#the summary on the top is slightly misleading i know

[lemonduckisnowawake]

You know, I was thinking about how the medieval European equivalent of the Greek "so and so is a child of this god/great hero" was "this guy is a knight in King Arthur's court" and it made me wonder what the modern equivalent could be, except my train of thought got steered into a female knight disguised as a guy to join King Arthur's court, specifically that a female knight is disguised as Sir Lancelot (which I know is probably done before).

So cue me going, "It would be funny if Fem!Lancelot was just literally trying to be a knight and save people and gain glory but King Arthur, who knows he is actually a she, was shamelessly flirting with her, and Queen Guinevere, who doesn't know of it, was also shamelessly flirting with 'him'".... prompting me to write this scene...

“I’m sorry, but…let me try to understand what’s going on,” Lan said, holding one hand in front of her and rubbing her head with the other.

She pointed at the smiling blond king. “First of all, you’re not actually in love with me, right?”

“That’s right!” the king cheerfully affirmed. “I have never been nor ever will be in love with you! My dear Guinevere is the only one for me!”

The queen grinned at her husband and wrapped her arms around him. “Darling, you’re too sweet.”

“Why, yes!” the queen said, sparing only a glance at Lan before turning back to the king with a smile.

“And you were never in love with Sir Lan? You always knew he was a woman?” Lan continued, ignoring the disgusting looks the royal couple were giving each other, pointing at the fair haired queen.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Lan felt something starting to boil. Right now, though, she was more focused on setting the record and her own confusion straight.

“So you’re saying,” she started to conclude.

At that moment all the energy left her. Even the thing simmering in the back of her head calmed for a moment.

“…basically, both of you acted like you were in love with me to…as an…just to amuse yourselves?” she said, voice dead as she felt all the light leave her eyes.

At least that drew the couple’s attention back to her.

“Once again, correct! You truly are my best knight, Sir Lancelot!” the king crowed, the worst part of all that being that his compliment actually sounded sincere enough.

“I told you she would understand it quickly, my lord,” the queen chided her husband lightly.

“Well, I didn’t have any doubts in her, just—”

“Hm?” the queen hummed. She glanced at the tree shading them from the sunset. “Well, we were bored, that’s all.”

“Hang on!” Lan interrupted, finding a little bit of her will to live again. “I never said I understood! I want to understand why?? What was the reason for subjecting me to both of your shameless flirting in my two personas??”

Lan knew that despite all her trained discipline, her indignation was starting to show on her face. But neither the king of queen seemed to be troubled by it.

Maybe they were unbothered because she didn’t have a weapon. If so, they were severely underestimating just how dangerous she could be with her bare fists, especiall when it was to punt these idiotic nobles—

“And you required a specialized test, given your circumstances,” the queen followed shortly after, as if that was an afterthought.

The energy and simmering fury left Lan along with the sudden breeze flitting through the private gardens, leaving her confused and baffled again.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, we like to test our knights’ loyalty and prowess in battle by giving them some impossible task. Gawain with the Green Knight, Pellinore with the Questing Beast, Launfal with the Faerie woman, so on. But you—”

Something about the queen’s gaze had become sharp, as if she were contemplating one of the dead monsters the Knights of the Round Table brought back.

“You introduced yourself as Sir Lancelot the knight seeking to be a knight of King Arthur’s Round Table, correct?”

Lan nodded dumbly.

“And then you introduced yourself as a lady of the court only months later, coming to seek employment in the castle,” the queen continued. “You were playing both worlds, which was a clever game, but it wasn’t hard to discover your double identity.”

“Well, that and we had the Lady of the Lake reveal that to me as soon as Sir Lancelot came to court,” the king offered, tucking his queen’s arm in his.

“Mhm. So the king had the brilliant idea to test how far you meant to juggle both the social field and the battlefield, if you meant to seize power, everything of that sort,” the queen blithely continued her explanation. “In the end, we decided it would be funniest to pretend to fall for you.”

Ah. There was that spark of simmering something again.

“It was a most diverting exercise, and we agree we went a little too far with it given how amusing your attempts at polite rejection were,” the king mused. “It did lighten the burden on our minds a little.”

Lan really tried not to grit her teeth, but her voice came out strained anyway. “Did it…really?”

“Of course,” the king said, his eyes suddenly wide and staring unblinkingly at her, though his smile remained pasted in place. “It happens when you’re expected to be the monarch of a country and yet lead expeditions and quests to remind the people of your battle prowess.”

The queen’s sharp eyes suddenly lost their brilliant blue light, almost fading into some sort of gray. “Indeed. And who is expected to lead the country while acting like a proper lady waiting for her husband to come back from way in the meantime, I wonder…”

So Lan was their stress dummy?

“However, when we were assured of your loyalties, we couldn’t leave you in the dark any longer,” the queen laughed, all light and smiles again, leaning into her husband. “And since we knew your secret, we decided it would be all right to let you know of ours.”

The king nodded. “Yes, you have an exceedingly good character. And now you know our secret.”

Lan’s eye twitched involuntarily. “Which is…?”

“Our true characters,” the king helpfully explained, with the kind of smile that screamed “liar!” to Lan.

“And what do you think?” the queen added, a similar sort of beam to her face.

With a deep breath to let the simmering in her brain abat, Lan stood and dusted off her dress.

“I think I will contemplate regicide now,” she found herself saying against her will.

Apparently, the simmering hadn’t died down, just burst open and flooded her entire body with the release of weeks of accumulated stress and pure, unfiltered rage.

It did not help that both the king and queen laughed at that.

So before Lan could say something that would actually be taken for treason, she bowed—she had meant to curtsy but her mind was too scrambled—and took her leave.

“If you do plan to kill us, please tell us how you plan to go about it! We may help!” the queen called after her.

“We’d prefer a coup, though,” the king mumbled as a wistful afterthought.

Lan, storming away with the intention of grabbing her sword, was going to kill those two and take pleasure in it.

[spideykaiparker]

Misleading Folders

Peter Parker x Avenger!reader

warning(s) : slight smut, fluff

summary : you like to record peter being cute, one day while you were recording him, he decided to... spice things up a little bit. flash forward to next week, the avengers finds a folder on your phone curiously going through it, leading to them finding a video that made them regret ever being curious.

author's note : I'm not confident about this:/ english is not my first language, sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes.

happy reading ^_^

school was exhausting. you and peter had just gotten back from school, and now both of you were hanging out in his room in the avengers compound. right after you arrived at his room, you immediately throw yourself on the bed, glad that school was over for the day.

"ugh.. your bed is so comfortable, why isn't mine like this?" you groaned out, jealous by the comfort of peter's bed.

"um.. i think all of the beds here are the same, maybe you feel that way because it has my scent?" peter suggested with a shrug.

"hm, maybe, guess I'm just going to sleep here then"

"oh please, you already sleep here all the time, you basically already moved into my room" peter said, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face indicates that he's not at all annoyed with you.

it's true, you stay in his room all the time, except when peter's not there at the moment, you hang out in your room.

you sat up against the headboard, playing with your phone, crossing your legs. while peter laid down horizontally on the edge of the bed, reading a book.

you both sat there for about 10 minutes, until you opened your legs, with your knees bent, and saw peter, reading his book, with his hands up holding the book, his lips caught between his teeth as he read the book with utter concentration.

you opened your camera app, recording him, because you think he looked cute, you take videos of him acting cute all the time, hell, you even have a folder for the videos.

"peter" you called, smiling

"yeah?" he looked to the side, to find you recording him, a smile of his own immediately morphing on his face.

"hi"

"hi" he answered with a slight laugh.

"what are you reading?"

"i don't know, just this book i found in the library, its kinda interesting"

suddenly, an idea popped up in his head. looking at you from in between your legs, with you recording him, made him think of several different things.

he slightly reached up and grabbed your shorts, pulling it down your legs with your underwear also coming off.

"wha—" you start, shocked by his sudden action.

"relax, we don't have to do anything, just keep talking, don't mind me" he cuts. his fingers slowly going up and down your slit, going up to your sensitive bud, circling two of his fingers on it.

"did me recording you, made you horny?" you asked, slightly amused.

"well partly, it's mostly because I've been thinking about you all day, wearing that short shorts of yours, and looking at you from between your legs also is one the reason" he simply replied.

"awee, you're wet already? you like it too don't you? you like recording me playing with your pretty pussy, huh?" he murmured.

his fingers came down to your slit, collecting the wetness that has gathered down there, then made its way back up to circle around the sensitive bud once again, but this time sliding much easier with your wetness.

your moans got louder as he pushed two of his fingers into your heat. he slowly thrusted his fingers inside of you, gradually getting faster with each thrust. his thumb going up to rub your abandoned clit.

"you like that?" he asks, smirking to the camera.

"a-ah... yes"

suddenly he pushed himself upwards towards you, burying his face between your thighs, planting his lips on your swollen bud, fingers still thrusting roughly inside of you while his free arm wraps around one of your thigh.

shocked by his actions, you dropped your phone on the bed facing upwards, the phone still recording, but can't see any of the actions happening.

"ah!— peter!" throwing your head back, you buried one of your hand in his curls, while the other gripped the sheets.

your hips bucking up to his face, so much that he has to grip your hips to stay put. you kept thrashing around, moaning louder and louder as time passes by.

his tongue plunges itself inside of you alongside of his fingers, thrusting at a harsh pace. his fingers sometimes coming up to play with your clit.

you could feel your orgasm coming soon, your stomach tightens, heat building up, you clench around his fingers, signaling him that you're close.

"ah— i'm cumming" you helplessly moaned out, your grip on his hair tightening.

"cum for me, baby" he groaned out, in between of his actions.

and with that you let go, gripping his hair tightly, throwing your head back, moaning out loud, couldn't care less about the possibility of people being able to hear you.

peter continues to lap up your heat, helping you through your orgasm, your body convulsing because of his actions.

when you were done, peter moved upwards, hovering over you with a smile on his face. his hands coming up to gently push away the hair that was sticking to your face due to the sweat.

looking up through your lashes, you pushed yourself up, hands coming around the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly to connect both of your lips.

his lips mold perfectly against yours, kissing you at a slow pace, pouring all of his emotions through the kiss.

suddenly you remembered something, "the camera" you said, pulling away from him. you reached out your hands, searching for your phone, eventually finding it, you pointed it towards peter.

"say byee~"

"byee~" he said while shaking his head, laughing. you ended the recording, putting your phone on the bedside table, then slowly reaching out for peter once again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"c'mon let's go shower" he said, pulling away from you, sitting on his knees.

"but you're still hard" you pointed out, reaching your hand to cup his hard on, to which he moaned to.

"you can help me in the shower" he suggested, smirking at you.

"fine..." you replied, rolling your eyes, but your lips curved up to a smile.

pulling you up from the bed, he lead you to the bathroom to continue your activities earlier.

~

the week goes by, the avengers were going to have a movie night. now you were just preparing everything because it was your turn to pick the movie.

everyone was just lounging around on the couches in the common room, when suddenly Tony remembered something.

"hey Y/N can you send me the pictures we took yesterday?" he asked, slightly throwing his head back on the couch to look at you who was preparing the popcorns.

"yeah sure, here's my phone," you gave him your phone which was in your pocket, opening it beforehand so that he could use it, "you can send it yourself" you said absentmindedly, not really thinking about it too much.

grabbing the phone, he searches through your gallery, coming upon a folder labeled petey♡. curious, he opened the folder, seeing a bunch of pictures and videos of you and peter.

smiling, he opened the most recent video, it was a video of you and peter walking down the street, with peter's arm around your neck, holding you close, and your face slightly smushed into his chest, one of your arm holding on to the arm that was wrapped around your neck and the other wrapped around his waist, while you both kept walking. you were both laughing in the video looking completely in love.

while Tony was watching the video, the other members were slightly curious to what Tony was watching, one by one, they gathered around him peering into the phone, also watching the video. they all awed when they saw what Tony was watching, they thought that you two looked absolutely cute together, that you were meant to be. well maybe except sam and bucky, but even they had to admit, you two were disgustingly cute.

when the video ended, Tony slides to the next video, which was a video of you and peter cuddling on his bed, peter was half asleep while you were awake, with peter basically laying on top of you, resting his head on your chest, facing the camera, one of your arm wrapped around his neck while the other was outstretched, holding your phone, recording you both.

"c'mon peter, we gotta wake up" you said smiling, slightly shaking him.

"mm..5 more minutes.." he groggily answered, nuzzling his face into your chest.

"you said that 10 minutes ago" you deadpanned, rolling your eyes, but the smile was still etched on your face.

"mm.."

"i have a class at 9, pete" you sighed.

"don't go.." he whined back, slowly gaining consciousness.

"i have to, pete"

"no you don't have to, you can just stay here and cuddle with me" he murmured, a pout forming on his lips, tightening his hold on you as if he's afraid you're going to leave him.

"i promise I'll go straight home as soon as my classes are over" you explained, slowly pushing away from him, to which he whined, drawing you back.

"no~" he whined, when you finally got out of his grip, turning onto his back.

"I'll be back as soon as possible, okay?" you kissed his forehead. and with that the video ended.

the avengers cooed as they watched the soft moment, they all agreed that you guys were soulmates, completely in love with each other, being each others other half. it's funny seeing peter being so clingy with you, because usually peter was shy little bean with the avengers, though he opened up more little by little but not as much as he is with you.

tony swipes to the next item, it was a picture of the both of you sleeping on the couch while cuddling, you were laying your head on peter's chest, your arms wrapped around his torso, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while both of your legs tangled below, a blanket covering the both of you.

the picture was taken by MJ, when you were supposed to have a sleepover with Ned and MJ, but ended up sleeping halfway through the movie. the next morning MJ showed you the picture, you told MJ to send it to you, to add to your collection of cute moments.

once again, they all awed at the picture, you both looked content with each other, holding onto each other like you're both afraid one of you is going to disappear.

then Tony swipes to the next item, it was the video from last week, when peter decided to... spice it up a little. at first, the video looked normal, you were just recording peter, who was reading, from between your legs because that's where you can see his face.

"peter" you called out from the video.

"yeah?" he looked to the side, a smile immediately morphing on his lips when he saw that you were recording him while smiling.

"hi"

"hi" he answered with a slight laugh, smiling widely.

"what are you reading?"

"i don't know, just this book i found in the library, its kinda interesting"

then peter had this... look on his face, suddenly he reached up, grabbing your shorts, pulling it down with your underwear.

"WOAH" nearly all of them screamed

"wha—" you said from the video

almost immediately, Tony slammed the phone face down his lap, the video still playing, so they could hear what's happening in the video.

"relax, we don't have to do anything, just keep talking, don't mind me" peter's slightly deeper voice ranged out.

the avengers were— to say the least, very surprised, they looked at each other with shock clearly written on their faces. they didn't think that the shy innocent looking peter would turned out to be very dirty.

they weren't paying much attention now, too shocked by the new piece of information. their attention snapped back to the video when they heard peter again.

"awee, you're wet already? you like it too don't you? you like recording me playing with your pretty pussy, huh?" they heard him murmur.

they couldn't believe it, peter parker, the guy who blushes at just a mention of a kiss, the guy who gets shy with even the slightest display of affection with you, is actually really dirty.

you started to let out quiet moans, gradually getting louder, the sounds of his slick finger playing with your heat, getting louder and louder.

"—oh my god, turn it off!"

immediately Tony flipped the phone to turn off the video, getting a glimpse of peter moving to bury his face in your heat.

"ah!— peter!" then he immediately turned off the video.

when the video was finally turned off, they all looked at each other with wide eyes, choosing to not say anything to each other for a while to avoid making it even more awkward.

"um... should we talk to them?"

"ew, why?" sam said with disgust, wishing to burn the image of you and peter from his mind.

"i think we should" natasha spoke up.

"yeah, i think so too, i mean, we didn't even know they were sexually active until now, we should at least tell them to be safe" steve said with his arms crossed, looking at everyone.

"yeah okay, at least i can tease him with it now" bucky said with a cheeky smirk.

"well that's settled, let's wait 'til they get back from getting the popcorns" rhodey suggested.

~

not long after that... incident, you and peter came back from the kitchen bringing 4 bowls of popcorn, handing it to the other members on the couch.

"alright, now I've decided that we will watch—" you started but got cut off by Tony.

"wait, actually we have something we want to talk to you about" he holds up his hand, cutting you off. "both of you"

"okay..." you and peter slowly sat down on the couch, looking warily to each other.

"what's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"well, you know how i was going to send the pictures from yesterday from your phone?" Tony starts.

"yeah..."

"well i happened to stumble upon an interesting folder" you froze, your eyes widening almost immediately when you heard him.

"yeah..." you let out with a nervous chuckle.

now peter was confused, what were you talking about? why did you suddenly froze? is there something in that fol— his eyes widened, suddenly remembering the video you took last week, his cheeks redden from his thoughts.

"well we found an interesting video there"

"wait— we?" you sputter out. wishing to bury yourself in the ground so you don't have to face this.

"yes we, at first we thought that it was just videos of you guys being cute, but then..." he trailed off.

you both are frozen now, too embarrassed to do anything. already knowing which video he's talking about.

"judging by your reactions, i assume you both already know what video I'm talking about"

"yeah..." you both meekly answered.

"i mean I'm not judging, you guys can do whatever you want, but i just have one question"

"what is it?" peter asked weakly.

"are you guys being safe?"

"oh my god! of course! okay, first of all, i don't want to have this talk with you guys, okay? we already got it from aunt may, we don't need it from you guys, and besides, we're both 19, we know what to do, you don't have to worry okay? we're being safe. and second of all, why would you go through my folders! i just told you to send the pictures from yesterday" you answered, still embarrassed.

"we were curious okay? you guys are so cute together" wanda answered.

"but still!—" you start but got cut off by Tony

"—okay okay! we're not going to give you the talk, you guys are old enough already, plus it's kind of weird giving you the talk, and we're sorry for going through your folders" Tony shuddered just by thinking about it.

"but peter, i didn't know you were wild, man" sam teased with a smirk on his face.

"ugh.. shut up" peter answered, hiding his face behind your shoulder.

"no, but seriously though, we thought you were just an innocent little bean, but little did we know..." bucky trailed off, a smirk also evident on his face.

"stoooop" he's hiding his entire body behind you now. you laughed, bringing him from behind you, wrapping your arms around him, his face buried in your neck.

"great! now that that's settled, can we continue movie night now?" rhodey spoke up.

you all agreed, turning on the movie of your choice, then each of you settling in comfortable positions.

you obviously cuddled with peter, a blanket draped over both of you, your head resting on his chest, arms wrapped around him tightly, peter's arm wrapped around your shoulder.

halfway through the movie, you saw that peter was slightly dozing off, so you decided to head up with peter.

"hey, we're heading up first okay? —c'mon pete" you said while pulling him up.

"use protection!" bucky shouted from the couch as you and peter went down the hallway.

"shut up!" you grumbled back.

the rest of the team just laughed then continued watching the movie while you and peter continued your way to his room.

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[plant-flwrs]

hi! i absolutely love your writing!! can i request a pureblood slytherin (kinda mysterious?) reader x george? muggle-borns call her the child of the cheshire cat bc her mischievous smile says it all. so when the twins escape the professor, she answers in riddles to not blow their cover. you can add on to that, thank you!! 🧡🧡

mischief // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i love your request so much!! i’m sleep deprived rn so i apologize if none of this is coherent or good, but my tiny brain did it’s best. hope u like it!!

summary: George falls for the mischievous pureblood Slytherin who couldn’t care less about blood status.

(3.1k)

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“You’ve never seen Alice in Wonderland?”

“No,” Ron groaned, annoyed with Hermione’s better-than tone.

“When would he have seen Alice in Wonderland, Hermione?” Harry asked, also annoyed with the two’s constant bickering.

“It is a book too, you know, he could have picked it up and read it any time he liked,” Hermione defended, sticking her little nose into the air with purpose.

“Will you just tell me what it means?” Ron pressed.

“It’s a reference. The Cheshire Cat is a mischievously annoying animal. It would mislead and annoy Alice,” Hermione explained, trying to simplify the characterization for Ron.

“So why do they call her that?”

“Because she gives us the creeps, she’s evil looking,” Harry answered, shuddering his shoulders slightly. 

“She’s actually quite interesting,” Hermione said, “if you gave her a chance.”

Harry rolled his eyes, having little sympathy for any pureblood Slytherin. Ron’s face showed him to be in deep thought, and Hermione returned to her Divination work.

You were perched in a shadowed corner of the library, twisting the ends of your hair in your fingers. Pansy sat across from you, reading her Potions textbook with great concentration. You hummed to yourself, a dull smile on your lips.

“Y/n,” Pansy spoke slowly, tearing her eyes away from the textbook and showing it to you, “do you know what this means?”

You looked intently into the notebook, your head nodding slowly as you read the page.

“Yeah, it’s applying the absorbing properties in lizard scales to the enlarging properties of ogre’s root. All the other stuff is there to make sure you don’t die, probably,” you said, handing Pansy the textbook back.

She made an “oh” noise, finally understanding the potion.

“I don’t think this school could be any more boring if it tried,” you groaned.

Pansy gave you an entertained smile and returned to her book.

Your gaze had drifted to look out of the window when you heard a loud crash.

Your head snapped to where it came from and your legs were moving before you had realized where they were going.

You came to stand right in front of three crashed bookshelves, little Cornish Pixies rolling around in all the books that lay on the floor.

You watched two red-headed boys doubled over trying to catch the Pixies in their outstretched hands.

“What happened here, boys?” you drawled, leaning against a book shelf that still stood upright.

“Shit!” one of them shouted, clutching his chest with this hand, “Scared us.”

“You gonna stand there, or help us?” the other said, not lifting his eyes from the Pixie he just managed to shove in his pocket.

“I think I’ll watch for now,” you quipped, a smirk reaching your mouth.

You watched them attempt to gather all the Pixies, until all three of your heads shot up at the heavy footsteps of McGonagall. 

“What on earth?” she started, and you watched the twins duck behind some standing bookshelves a few feet away.

“Did you see who did this?” she asked you, her suspicious eye trained on you.

“Did what?”

“This!” she shouted, her hands flailing towards the fallen shelves and books littering the ground

“What about this?” you asked, feigning innocence and confusion.

“Why are there shelves knocked down and books everywhere?” 

“Are they not supposed to be like this?” you nearly broke your act, a smile threatening your lips, but managed to keep a straight face. McGonagall looked infuriated.

“Did you see where they went?”

“Where who went?”

“The people who did this! Unless it was you?”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Then who did?”

“Who did what?”

“This!” she repeated, her face turning red.

“Oh! I think they went that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, the opposite way the twins went.

“She’s brilliant,” George whispered to his brother from behind the shelves.

“You can say that again, Georgie,” Fred answered, watching you in awe as you waved off McGonagall.

They crept form behind their hiding places, stepping cautiously around the fallen books. 

“How did you do that?” George asked, looking at you in awe.

“Do what?”

Fred smiled at you, quite entertained. George just stared, his mouth hanging open in amazement. 

You sauntered off, sitting back down with Pansy.

“Jaw up, George, you’re drooling,” Fred taunted his brother, bumping into George’s shoulder.

The two left the library, sneaking past Madam Pince. George watched you smooth down your green tie with your delicate touch, your eyes locking with his. He admired the mischievous grin on your lips, and he gulped when you winked at him. He just met The Child of The Cheshire Cat. And he was in love with her.

The two boys peered around the corner, Fred crouched below George. They watched you carefully taking a bobby pin to Snape’s door, your fingers jutting back and forth against the pressure you applied.

George watched you pull your lips between your teeth. He watched the curve of your body as you stood on the tips of your toes, bent at the knees and leaning close to the door. Your skirt itched dangerously up, exposing more and more of your thighs.

Fred’s eyes were trained on your mischievous actions, but all George could focus on was you. He tried to stop thinking about you, but ever since that day in the library he couldn’t get you out of his head. It became even harder when Fred insisted you join them in their pranks from now on.

You stood suddenly, your skirt falling back into place, much to George’s dismay. You turned towards the boys, smirking at them. Fred sprang from his place behind the wall. George stumbled to follow after his brother.

You bent the bobby pin back into place and George watched you tuck it seamlessly into your hair. 

“All in a day’s work, boys,” you said, breaking the silence that had formed around the three of you while they stared at you in awe.

“You’re brilliant,” Fred mumbled, gripping your shoulders and kissing your cheek briskly.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. George debated if he should copy his brother’s actions, take advantage of the situation to make an excuse to be that close to you. Before he could, he realized he had been staring at you for far too long. He coughed awkwardly and casted his gaze to the ground. You quirked an eyebrow at him in suspicion, and followed Fred into the potions class.

“What are we looking for, exactly?” you whispered into the dark room.

“We need more Ashwinder eggs for our products,” you heard Fred whisper back to you a few feet away, “running low on our supplies.”

“So you thought Snape wouldn’t mind letting you borrow some of his?” you teased, and heard Fred snort from where he was.

“Of course not,” George said from behind you, “as you may know, he’s a very generous man.”

“Always been supportive of us,” Fred joined, the smirk very loud in his voice.

George was close to you in the dark, you could tell. He must have been inches away from you, waiting for Fred to gather what he needed. You could hear his breathing, not that it was labored, and felt his presence.

“Fred, will you hurry it up?” George snapped at Fred.  You turned to where his voice came from, the deepness in his whisper surprising you.

“Scared?” you teased.

You heard George’s low chuckle, and suddenly two hands snaked their way onto your sides. George’s long fingers gripped your sides, making your entire body jolt. You jumped at the sudden touch, and heard George chuckle even more.

“Scared?” he murmured, his hands still on your sides but his fingers considerably looser.

You met his hands with yours, putting them on top of his for some reassurance that you weren’t imagining it. Your touch was featherlight over his rough hands, and you realized how small your hands were next to his. You felt the veins on the top of his hands and traced over them before you knew what you were doing. George’s chuckle stopped at the touch, and the only noise in the room was the occasional clink of two glass bottles bumping into each other as Fred looked for the eggs.

The two of you stood in silence, George’s body inching closer to yours from behind you. Soon, your back was against his chest, and he trapped you in his arms. Your arms leaned against his, hands still atop his hands. You felt safe in George’s arms. You didn’t care if Snape came in at that minute, you just wanted George to hold you.

“Got ‘em!” Fred called out, a few clinking noises heard.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice closer to you now.

George started to turn, turning you with him. He gave you one last squeeze, moving his hands a little lower on your hips before releasing you completely. You let your hands fall from his, and moved from your spot against his chest.

The moment of intimacy in the dark had caused a blush to spread across your cheeks, and George saw it the second you three reached the dimly lit hallway. You avoided his eyes, looking at Fred and the three glass bottles he was slipping in his pockets.

“What are you going to use those for?” you whispered, following them down the hallway.

“Our luck and love potions,” Fred answered, his hand ghosting over the eggs in his pocket.

You nodded approvingly, taking a glance over your shoulder to make sure you were still in the clear. The three of you stopped at the bottom of the stairs, well you stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Aren’t you coming?” Fred asked, looking down at you from a few steps above you.

They both towered over you, but the look in George’s eyes made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“My common room is down here,” you lifted your hand to point your thumb over your shoulder.

“Oh right,” Fred said, smiling, “sometimes you’re so much fun we forget you’re a Slytherin.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing. 

The boys watched you walk away. Fred smiled at the memory of the successful night they had, and George smiled at the way your skirt moved across your hips and swayed side to side.

“And where were you?” Draco Malfoy’s sneer was on you immediately after you crept into the common room. He was lounging on the couch, face illuminated by the dwindling fire on front of him.

“Where was who?” you smirked, starting your usual act.

Draco smirked back at you, aware of your reputation.

“Off with the Weasleys? You’ve been spending a lot of time with them recently. If anyone had some sense they might begin to question you aligning yourself with blood traitors,” Draco drawled.

You furrowed your brows, feeling incapable of deflecting that like you usually would. You were never one to focus on your blood status, but you figured you didn’t have to since you were a pureblood. Draco was obsessed with his blood status, you knew that, everyone knew that. Why was he so concerned with yours all of a sudden?

“Why do you care, Draco?”

Draco’s cold laugh echoed off the walls of the dungeon.

“I try to look out for my housemates,” he said, “especially the incredibly attractive ones.”

Your face twisted with disgust before you could help it. You walked past him and up the stairs, hearing his laugh continue from behind you.

Up in your room, you reflected on your night. You couldn’t help but lift your hands to where George’s had been earlier. You closed your eyes, imagining him still there with you, his chest a hard presence behind you. You breathed in deep, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest. A smile was on your lips before you knew it, and you realized you wanted George to hold you more often.

The next day at breakfast, you had filled your plate with food and talked with Pansy.

“So,” she started, glancing at you over her Charms textbook, “where were you off to last night?”

You smiled at her, looking down at your plate. When you looked back up at her, you noticed Draco watching you a few seats down. You gave him a glare, and he smirked at you.

“I was with Fred and George,” you turned your attention back to Pansy.

“The Weasleys? Why were you with the Weasleys?” Pansy tried to hide the repulsion in her voice, and barely managed to.

“They’re my friends,” you defended, furrowing your brow at her.

“Since when?”

You didn’t answer her, feeling that whatever said wouldn’t matter much to her.

Pansy gave you a suspicious look and returned to her textbook and breakfast.

You looked down at your plate, not daring a glance at Pansy or an accidental look at Draco. You felt isolated, the green tie around your neck becoming too suffocating all of a sudden.

You stood from the table, leaving breakfast early. You walked to the empty hallway and felt a little better in the quiet.

“Y/n?” you heard a voice call for you.

When you turned in the direction of the Great Hall, you saw George. He was walking cautiously towards you, concern etched on his face.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound normal.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

George had closed the distance between you, coming to stand right in front of you. You turned from him, leaning against the wall. He did too, and you felt his arm against yours.

“Fred and I were going to talk to you after breakfast,” he said, “but since you’re already here.”

“More late night sneaking around?”

“You could say that,” he smiled down at you.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already looking at you. You felt your heart stop beating, the air stuck in your throat. Your eyes danced all over his face, focusing on the strength of his cheekbones, the sharpness of his nose, the smile lines marked on his cheeks, the look in his eyes. 

He didn’t know what was happening. You turned towards him, leaning closer. You closed the distance and your hands were in his hair. He barely had time to close his eyes before you pulled away. You leaned back against the wall for a second, shook your head, and started to walk away.

You felt like an idiot. You had no idea why you just kissed George, probably ruining the only genuine friendship you had made at Hogwarts. You walked away from him, hoping that the sooner you left, the easier he would forget it happened.

You were only a few feet away before his hand was wrapped around your wrist.

“George, I’m sorr-”

He cut you off with his lips, his hands cupping your face.

He pulled you back to the wall, pushing you against it. The force nearly made your legs tremble from under you, but you forced them to stay still. 

His hands ran down your body, moving from your face and down to their spot on your hips. He squeezed them like he did last night. You couldn’t help the reaction it caused, lurching your hips into his at the touch. He groaned into your mouth, pushing his face harder against yours. His nose pressed against your cheek, your chins bumping as you passionately moved against each other. 

“Well, this is awfully disappointing.” You barely registered the voice, and George certainly didn’t.

You opened your eyes, still kissing George and glanced to the sound. Draco stood there, an evil smirk on his mouth. You slowly pulled away from George, and he trailed after you, trying to continue the kiss. It wasn’t until you turned your head to look at Draco that George even realized he was there.

“Get out of here Malfoy,” George said, his voice gruff and annoyed.

He moved back towards you, expecting Draco to scurry off. Draco stayed put, and you pulled back from George.

“What do you want, Draco?” you said, still pushed against the wall with George leaning on you.

You didn’t even bother to fix your messy hair, adjust your skirt, or tuck your shirt back in. All of which were messed up by George’s roaming hands.

“Just wanted to make sure my eyes didn’t deceive me,” he snarled, “Saw a Weasel chasing after you, but I didn’t think it would have been this bad.”

“What are you on about?” George said, and you could feel his body tensing with anger.

“Well I have to report this to the Sacred 28,” he explained, casting a fake innocent look over his evil features, “they’ll have to know that the Y/l/n family are now blood traitors.”

“Malfoy, you’re the only one who still cares about that,” you sneered.

You would have felt a bit intimated by Malfoy if it weren’t for George. You knew Malfoy was one of the smartest students in his year and had no doubt he knew some dark spells that you couldn’t have dreamed of. But George made you feel safe. When George was there you didn’t even think about the danger Malfoy threatened.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he started to saunter over to the two of you, “your father still seems to care.”

George moved you from the wall, putting himself between you and Draco. 

Draco was right about your father. He cared a great deal about his status and the power it held. He had grown to accept your disobedience, but you had never strayed this far from his ideals.

“You’re pathetic, Malfoy,” George spat from in front of you. You squeezed his arm warningly, and he glanced down at you. The second he saw your scared expression, his gaze softened.

“Shove off,” you managed, your voice nearly sounding afraid.

“Alright,” Draco said in a sing-song voice, holding his hands up in mock defeat, “fine, be that way.”

He walked back into the hall, and George turned to you with concern on his face.

“Why did you do that?” 

“I don’t care about what my father thinks,” you admitted, furrowing your brow.

“Are you sure?” George asked you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, looking up at George’s brown eyes, “You mean more to me than any useless blood status.”

George softened. He literally felt himself melt at your words. He took a few large steps, a goofy smile plastered in his face, and backed you against the wall again.

“That was adorable,” he said, sounding giddy.

You laughed, moving closer to his face. Your smiles connected, quickly changing to a heated kiss once again.

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Paper Planes

A/N: Hey guys!! Here is the first chapter of the fic, “Devil’s Advocate”!!! I’m excited about this, and writing it is getting me through a lot right now, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Here ya go :)

Summary: After a traumatic experience, you are forced back into the field with Neil, but the mission is personal and possibly too close for home for you to handle. Neil helps you through it, but you’re not sure if you can get the job done.

Warnings: Violence, guns, death, drowning, injuries, angst, cursing, and yes, luckily some fluff :)

Word Count: 4,405

The weight of your cold, dark black glock settles heavily into your right hand as you pick it up off the table to your left. You secure a pair of noise cancelling headphones around the top of your head. You load the gun and cock it. 

The headphones blast with music, helping you to concentrate on the man-shaped target in front of you.

Everyone’s a winner, we’re making our fame.

Bonafide hustler making my name.

 You extend your gun out in front of you as you shut your left eye tightly to aim. 

All I wanna do is…

BANG BANG BANG BANG 

And uh, and take your money. 

You lower the gun as the target pushes forward towards you. You can’t help but smile confidently as you look at the deep hole you made in center of the paper man. You reach to take it down, but a warm hand grabs onto your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, freezing you in place.

The hand twists your body slightly, just enough to make you turn around. You reach up to the top of your head and slip your off headphones, letting them rest around your neck. 

A charming, wild grin pulls at Neil’s lips as his gaze meets yours. “That was bloody incredible!” He shouts. There’s a bright flash of excitement in his eyes. His hands gesture towards the hole you made in the wall. You had aimed perfectly, shooting in the exact same spot each time you pulled the trigger. 

“Thanks,” You say back as your cheeks flush with heat despite the boost of confidence rushing through your veins from Neil’s praise. A compliment from Neil means a lot to you, even though you’ve known him for years. He was your closest friend and made sure to tell you the truth, even when it hurt. That honesty grounded you in the chaos of your life. He was a constant, a steadfast star in your sky. 

Neil chuckles a bit as his eyes look down to the headphones hanging around your neck. You don’t hear how loud your music still is. Your mind is too focused on the sound of Neil’s laugh. 

M.I.A Third World Democracy

Yeah I got more records than the KGB

So uh, no funny business!

“A bit loud, isn’t it?” Neil laughs again as he steps closer to you. He brings his hands to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he grabs the headphones and slips them off of you. 

That smile, You think before mentally slapping yourself across the face. Snap the fuck out of it. 

Your feelings for him were always at the back of your throat, clawing for supremacy, climbing up to the tip of your tongue, threatening to force your mouth open to spill your guts. Somehow, even after all these years, you were able to hold back. Maybe it was because you didn’t need more than what you had with him. That was an absolute lie. Maybe it was because he never belonged to anyone else. There was no need to be jealous. Maybe it was because there was a certain, silent promise of belonging to each other despite the lack of an official relationship.

That was more like it. 

Neil puts the headphones back on the table as the next song plays. The absurdly loud riff of the guitar pulls you back into reality. 

Fell in love with a girl,

I fell in love once and I almost completely.

She’s in love with the world

But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading. 

Blushing again, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to press the pause button. The music stops and you smile shyly. A creeping sense of embarrassment crawls into your stomach. You were beyond happy that Neil was able to see you in your element, and usually his presence made you feel good, but his attention was overwhelming at times. Now, the confidence that settled in before had been sucked from your soul and replaced with a racing heart and a cluttered mind. 

You push thoughts of Neil to the back of your head. “So what’s up?” You ask, setting the gun on the table next to your headphones. You casually slip your hands into the pockets of your baggy jeans. You mentally acknowledge that you may be overdoing the whole ‘playing it cool’ thing in front of Neil, possibly even to the point that he might be able to see straight through your act. 

“Well,” Neil pauses. His hand moves to the back of his neck. “I’ve got some news,” Neil says finally, his smirk falling from his lips. Your heart skips a beat. He looks unbelievably nervous. His brows furrow cautiously, knowing his next words are going to achieve some sort of poor reaction from you. 

You gulp anxiously and nod. “W-what is it?” You stutter as you predict the words Neil is about to say. 

I can’t fucking do this, not yet. 

Neil steps closer to you and grabs your hand in his. The touch was familiar but still shocked you to your very core, your nerves tingly frantically under his fingers. 

Please don’t say it, please don’t fucking say it. 

Neil’s voice is quiet in anticipation of your panic. “The boss, he wants you back in the field…” Neil trails off, continuing on about something in London, something about him going with you. You feel your chest tightening. You’re not listening anymore. You’re too focused on what happened last time, too focused on the trauma, too focused on the tears, the shouts, the deaths. 

“NO!” You scream, your long, HDM hung heavily in your hand. The lifeless body of a new recruit crashes to the floor. 

You raise up your arm and cock the gun. You’re ready to aim and shoot, but two large men grab your hands. Your gun falls to the ground with a clatter. 

The man with the dark hair cackles cacophonously. He shakes his head, his piercing emerald eyes dissolving your soul as he picks a new body to hold roughly in his arms. A revolver presses tightly against the person’s head. You can’t tell exactly who it is, as there’s a burlap sack covering their face. There are 8 other people in a semi circle, each appearing the same as the last, tied up in a chair with a burlap sack hiding their identity. 

“What?” He shouted barbarically, his voice echoing against the silver, metal walls of the chamber. “You think your fucking screams can get you out of this?” He grinned maliciously, licking his lips as he cocked the gun. Tears roll down your cheeks. 

You are helpless. 

You are useless.

“(Y/N),” The voice of the person cries out, knowing that their fate is already sealed. It was a woman’s voice, and you felt a bit guilty as you prayed to God that it wasn’t Wheeler.

BANG! 

The lifeless body slumps into the chair. You whimper, stifling a sob in the back of your throat. 

The man with the dark hair moves onto his next victim. You struggle, trying to shake off the two men holding you back. You look around the room, searching for something, anything to get you out of this. 

The man’s face lights up with malignant excitement, sensing that his next kill would hurt you the most. 

Fuck, no no no no no, You think to yourself. You could recognize those stupid, posh little black dress shoes anywhere. You knew the curves of his body, the shape of his hands. Blood dripped down his neck from the cut on his forehead he had gotten earlier. 

Neil.

“Please,” You beg. “Don’t touch him. Just kill me instead.” 

The man with the dark hair only grins more widely now. “Darling,” He snarls. You cringe at his use of the nickname. Neil usually was the one to call you that. “Your begging only makes this more fun for me. In fact, it makes me want to kill you even less, just so you have to live with the image of everyone you care for dying in front of your very eyes for the rest of your life.” His cold words send shivers down your spine. 

He maneuvers differently around Neil, as he grabs the bottom of the burlap sack and removes it from his face. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. You heart feels like it’s being stepped on as it sinks deeply to the bottom of your chest. You can barely breathe now. You huff, trying to keep your sanity, trying to find a way out of this fucking mess. 

“I figured you would want to watch the life drain from his pretty little face, (Y/N),” The man retorts. You shake your head violently. You look left to right, searching for some sort of weakness in the two large men that were keeping you in place. You notice a brace around the knee of the man on your right. 

Thank God for shorts, You think to yourself. 

The man with the dark hair raises the revolver to Neil’s right temple. 

“(Y/N),” Neil mutters. “I l-,”

Before Neil can get his last words out, you raise your right leg, bending it in and snapping it out at the back of the man’s knees, launching him forward. With your right hand now free, you sucker punch the man to your left square in the nose. You round house him in the stomach, sending him backwards. You grab your gun off the floor and aim it back to the man with the dark hair. 

The man chuckles evilly. “You shoot me, and I shoot him. It’s really as simple as that.” Your heart pounds in your chest. 

An idea suddenly dawns upon you. You shift subtly enough so that the man doesn’t catch on to your train of thought. The gun is already cocked, all you need to do is pull the trigger.

BANG! 

“Fuck!” The man cries out, stumbling forwards into the center of the semi circle as he releases Neil from his grasp. His gun falls to the floor. You turn away sharply at the realization that you blew his hand off. 

You run over to Neil first, quickly untying his hands and setting him free. He starts untying everyone else and you walk over the the man with the dark hair. You catch a quick glimpse of Wheeler, and sigh in relief that she’s safe. 

You breathe in hard and part your lips. “Don’t you dare ever fuck with me or my team again,” You pause, kicking the man in your ribs. There’s something extremely personal about your tone.  He grunts in response. “Now tell me where Edgar is keeping the weapons. And tell me where the fuck the lab is, you prick.” 

He chuckles, breathing shallowly. “Prick?” He pronounces the word articulately. “That’s no way to address your uncle.”

“Fucking answer my question ass hat!” You shout, aiming your gun at his head. With another swift kick to the stomach, he curls up in a ball, clutching at his core. You cock your gun again, ready to shoot. Neil rushes to your side, giving you a look that implored you to let him finish before you blew his brains out. 

“F-fine,” He stutters. “It’s in London.” He gives you a set of coordinates, and Neil takes them down. “I suppose I should tell your father that you’re calling him by his first name now, hm?” 

“No, you won’t be getting the chance to,” You say. 

You pull the trigger. 

BANG!

You hear someone in the distance calling your name. 

Two slender, toned arms wrap around your back, resting on your waist as they pull you into an embrace. The smell of Neil’s musky, cinnamon and citrus cologne heightens your senses and brings you back down to Earth. 

Your breathing slows down a good deal as you press your face into Neil’s chest. His right hand comes up to the nape of your neck, and he begins to rake his long fingers through your hair. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Neil whispers in your ear. 

You swallow roughly. “No,” You say without even needing to think. “I’m not ready yet. I can’t leave Headquarters yet. I’m just not ready.” You feel tears begin to swell in your eyes and you bite down on your lip, hoping to keep them at bay. It had only been a month since you had killed your own uncle. He was a piece of shit, but that didn’t make the situation much easier to deal with. 

It had only been a week since you watched two of your friends die. That part may have been the hardest for you to swallow. 

Neil shakes his head and breaks away from you bit, just enough to get a good look at you. “You’re ready, (Y/N).” His voice is calm and reassuring. “And unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. We have to leave for the airport in,” Neil pauses, checking his silver watch, “45 minutes.” 

“W-what?” You gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I just found out a few minutes ago,” Neil admits. “If I knew earlier, I would’ve told you.”

You nod, believing him entirely. “So we’re going to London? To the coordinates?” You ask, looking up into Neil’s ocean eyes. You could feel yourself beginning to drown in them, just as you always were. 

Neil simply nods back. He rests a hand on the center of your chest, feeling your heartbeat quicken with anxiety. “It’s just going to be you and I for a few days, and then everyone else will join when we confront…” He doesn’t same his name. He doesn’t want to make you panic again. But you know exactly who he means. 

Your father. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” Neil’s comforting tone relaxes you a bit. “I won’t leave your side for a second,” He adds. You sigh audibly in relief. 

You let a single tear slide down your cheek. “Thank you,” You whisper. 

Neil pulls you into his chest again. “Anything for you,” Neil responds. You shudder at his words. Sometimes you could swear that he didn’t only see you as his best friend, but something more. 

You let the ideas ruminate and run freely in your mind for a few seconds before shooing them away like pesky little children. 

You take a step back, allowing a small space to fill between the two of you. “I guess I should go pack now.” 

Neil instinctively closes the gap again. You can tell  that he’s worried you’ll break down, and you hate it, but his support feels nice. “Do you want me to go with you? I’ve been told I’m good company.” He grins and sends a wink in your direction.

The corner of your mouth turns up a bit into a half smile, and you let out a small giggle. He always had a way of making you smile, of making you feel good. 

“Nah,” You say, smiling fully now. “I’ll be alright by myself.”

Neil nods and smiles back. “Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby at two o’clock,” Neil says. His smile turns into a smug smirk, and he turns his back to you. His dress shoes tap against the floor as he walks away. 

“Make sure to bring that silk pajama set you wore that time we went undercover in Monte Carlo,” He calls finally, wagging his pointer finger in the air. “I liked it.” 

You felt heat rising in your cheeks at his words. You almost tripped over the completely flat ground as Neil’s chuckle echoed down the hallway. 

————

You clutched the handle of your suitcase in your hands. You let it dangle in front of your legs, nervously bouncing it with your knees every few seconds. Your eyes searched the lobby for a head of fluffy blonde hair, but it was nowhere to be seen. You glance up to the analog clock above the front door. 

1:59. You were early. You were always early, for everything. Being late made you too anxious. You never wanted to miss a beat. 

The clock ticked 45 more times, and you counted each second. Finally, the sound of dress shoes echoed from down the hall. You looked past the reception desk to see Neil carrying a leather duffle bag in his right hand, and a bottle of water in his left. 

He smiled, releasing your butterflies from their cage inside your stomach as he finally reached your side. You open your mouth to say something, but Neil cuts you off.

“Don’t try to tell me I’m late,” Neil remarks sardonically, his eyes drifting off of you and onto the analog clock. “You’re just always early.” His smirk tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but smirk back. 

“I wasn’t going to say you were late!” You playfully smack his arm with your hand. “I was just going to tell you to be earlier next time.” 

Neil grins and shakes his head. He brings his hand up to the small of your back and brushes lightly. Outside the front doors, underneath the awning, a sleek, jet black town car pulls up. You feel your breath hitch in your throat at the realization that it was time.

This was it. 

Neil looks to you. “Are you ready?” His voice is reserved, almost as if he was scared to ask the question in the first place. 

You nod once. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You swallow your fear and let Neil guide you out the doors. He grabs your duffle bag out of your hand, and opens the already popped trunk, carefully placing the luggage inside. You go to open the door, but Neil beats you to it. 

“I can open doors you know,” You say sarcastically, glaring disapprovingly in his direction. 

Neil doesn’t seem to care. “A thank you would be nice, love,” Neil says, shooting a charming smile in your direction. His hand is still holding the door open for you. You step inside the car and look up at Neil. 

“Thank you Neil,” You say mockingly. Neil smiles slyly and closes the door. 

The car ride to the airport is relatively uneventful. Neil gave you the run down. He told you your cover, where you were staying, and the overall gist of the mission. 

“So we’re married?” You ask, making sure you had heard that part of the plan right and hadn’t dreamt it up from a fantasy.

Neil smiles and nods. “We’re newlyweds, traveling the world together one city at a time.”  There’s a whimsy in his voice, almost as if he’s telling a fairytale. You can’t help but chuckle a bit, despite the anxiety growing in your stomach. 

The car turns onto an exit ramp, and suddenly the airport is in plain sight. You shiver a bit, feeling the air around you growing colder and colder. You check the temperature gauge at the front of the car, and notice that he hasn’t changed at all. You wrap your arms around your chest, rubbing up and down along your body, hoping to warm up. 

Neil’s smile fades away as he furrows his brows in concern. He wraps his right arm around your shoulders. You jump at the sudden warmth. 

“Are you alright?” He asks as he brings his other arm up to wrap around you completely. 

Your anxiety is begging you to tell him no. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” You lie. Neil doesn’t buy it, and rightfully so. 

Neil squeezes you tightly. “I know you’re not okay, you don’t need to lie to me,” He whispers. “I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your eyes begin to well up, and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Alright,” You sigh, wiping the tear away. You sniffle a bit, trying to clear your head in the process. The car rolls to a stop. “I’m ready whenever you are,” You say, trying to seem more confident than you actually were. 

You open the door and slip out. The chaos of the outside of the airport takes you aback, despite the fact you had been in an airport millions of times before. Neil steps out behind you, and goes over to the trunk. He takes the luggage out and steps towards to you. You stare up at the massive building, petrified to enter. 

Neil ticks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “There’s not much time, (Y/N). We have to go inside now,” He says, his gaze staring into the side of your head. You refuse to meet his eyes, you’re too focused on the building, the mission, the future. 

After a few seconds, you nod to Neil and walk into the airport. You and Neil only have one duffle bag each, and thus you could skip checking in any bags. He guides you over to security, which happened to be a breeze. 

A short walk later, you approach the gate. There was a line of people waiting to enter, and you and Neil shuffled to the back of it. A few minutes later, a nice steward scanned your ticket. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, you’ll be in row 2, seats A and B. Have a nice flight,” He smiles, and gestures for you to enter the bridge to the plane. 

Your heartbeat quickens as you take small steps. “N-Neil,” You stutter as you reach to center of the bridge. “I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. I mean it. I-I’m sorry I just can’t.” Panic is heavy in your voice. It feels as though the walls are closing in on you. 

Neil puts the luggage down and brings you to the side of the bridge. He pushes strands of your hair out of your eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” Neil reassures. “You can do this. I’m said I’m not going anywhere, and I meant that.” 

Neil picks the luggage back up, and guides you through the entrance of the plane and to your seat. You hesitantly sit down, quickly placing your hand on the armrest, wondering if there’s still time for you to run out of the door and back to headquarters. To your dismay, you watch the doors of the plane begin to shut. Neil wasn’t kidding before when he said there wasn’t much time. 

He stores the luggage in the overhead compartment, and takes his place next to you. He notices that you’re still shaking, and he places his hand on top of yours and brushes your skin lightly with his thumb. 

A comfortable silence rests gently between you and Neil as his hand remains on top of yours. Sometimes words aren’t necessary. You can get the idea of what someone means by their actions alone.

A few moments later, the captain makes an announcement, followed by a series of other voices sharing information. You're too wrapped up in your thoughts to pay attention to anything they have to say. Before you know it, the plane begins to move down the tarmac. It gains speed, and suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted in the air.

You shiver again, the anxiety becoming too much to handle. You try to ease into your seat in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail. You’re petrified and uncomfortable, a terrible duo of emotions to be faced with simultaneously.

Suddenly, you feel Neil’s warm hand leave yours. You watch in confusion as he lifts the armrest up, tucking it in between the seats. He lifts his arm, and wraps it around your shoulder, just like he had done in the car, and so many countless times before. You accept the invitation willingly, and snuggle into his side. 

Minutes later, you’re fast asleep in Neil’s arms. 

———

An evil chuckle echoes against the concrete and spreads down to the grassy beach below. “There’s no saving him now, (Y/N)!” A man shouts from the top of an overpass. 

You look down and watch as a familiar figure waves their arms frantically underwater, trying to swim up to the surface, but they can’t. There’s a brick tied around each of their angles. Their dirty blonde hair floats freely in the water as they continue to sink to the bottom.

“N-Neil!” You shout, trying to step forward to dive in after him. But your stuck, tied against a chair, guarded by two large men. “Please, please stop this!”

The man laughs, ignoring your pleas. “This is what you get, (Y/N). You’re worthless, and you fucking know it. Don’t you ever forget it, darling.” 

You shake side to side. The chair tumbles over and you fall into the dark, black, cold water. Your nerves are shot by the shock of the frigidness, and you can’t move. 

“Neil!” You gargle, left to watch as he sinks to the bottom of the lake. “Neil!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Neil!”

“(Y/N)?” 

Your eyes shoot open and you practically jump out of your seat. Your seatbelt pushes you down, keeping held tightly. You’re trembling. You can’t breathe at all. 

“(Y/N),” Neil repeats. “It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.” He wraps his arms around you, bringing you tightly into his chest. 

You bury your face into his white shirt, sobbing softly. His right hand reaches up to the nape of your neck, his fingers gently combing through your hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” Neil whispers, his voice filled with kindness. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” 

You whimper into his chest as pain explodes in your heart. “What am I going to do?” You mutter. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Neil says, his kind tone persisting in each word he utters. “I’ve got you, it’ll be okay.”

It needed to be okay. You needed to be okay. You couldn’t risk any fuck ups, not this time. This was real. This was life or death. 

This was the end of the world. 

Or at least it could be. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him for what he’s done to you,” Neil states, the kindness in his voice is replaced with anger and frustration. “I’m going to kill Edgar, I swear.” 

You shake your head against his chest. “No…

“Leave that part up to me.”

>>> Chapter 2

[juniorgman187]

The Unsaid (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend Halloween doing something unforgettable.

Category: Smut *NSFW Content 18+  A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I promise I’ll try to improve and not make it so cringy next time Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: cursing, choking, unprotected sex/creampie, penetrative sex, Dom! Spencer Word Count: 4.3K

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Call it cliche, but you looked fucking hot. 

Pigtails on either side of your head were tied with a red ribbon bow. Your white polo button up wasn’t buttoned at all but rather, secured with a knot right at your sternum. The shirt was pulled so taut, cleavage was showing. Just south of your red plaid, pleated mini skirt was white knee high socks with little bows at the top seam. You wanted to wear black heels, but they would’ve killed you by the end of the night, so you settled for the next best thing - black high top Chucks. 

Hell yeah - you were a sexy schoolgirl. Granted, you had to keep it somewhat P.G for the younger trick-or-treaters, but you didn’t mind giving the hot single dad’s a little show. At some point, you actually stopped checking the peephole and took your chances, not minding running the risk of high school trick-or-treaters on your doorstep seeing a little more leg than deemed appropriate. After hours of handing out candy, you tried not to lose your charm despite your exhaustion. That worked in your favor. 

When you heard your doorbell ring, something in you told you that it wasn’t a little kid knocking, so you provocatively leaned on the door frame once you opened it. And your instincts were right - for the most part. 

At first glance, it was like you were looking at a living paradox. His boyishly charming face and unwillingness to meet your eyes for longer than a couple seconds made him seem so young but how he was dressed reminded you of your grandpa’s church attire. Unabashedly, you eyed him up and down, whereas he was looking . . . respectfully. Yeah - that’s the word. Respectfully.

You crossed your arms over your chest, making your breasts push together further. This caught his eye, but he tried to pretend it didn’t. 

“Mmm, alright, I give up. Whatcha dressed as? Sexy professor?” You flirted. He cleared his throat, evidently unused to the forwardness you were exhibiting. “A federal agent actually,” He answered, flipping open a badge to reveal his credentials. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your demeanor completely changed. Your posture straightened out and you dropped the smirk on your face. You were rendered speechless, so you wordlessly nodded. 

“My name’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Um, can I come inside?” His voice was so sweet, it was misleading. Were you in trouble? If so, why was he being so nice? 

You did your best not to feel scrutinized while he observed the interior of your house. He was paying special attention to all of the Halloween decors. You thought you saw him smiling as he accidentally walked through a fake spider web because he was so tall. You took the seat straight across from him making things feel sort of like a homemade interrogation, what with the singular dim light hanging above the two of you as you sat opposite one another.

“I think maybe I should change into something more . . . appropriate.” You were about to get up from your seat when he stood up and put his hand up to stop you.

“That won’t be necessary. Here.” He jerked his dark gray cardigan off of himself and handed it to you before sitting back down. You stood there, clutching his large sweater in your hand. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to process. 

“Um, thank you.” You slipped it over yourself and pulled it closed across your chest with crossed arms. 

“Yeah, no problem.” He said with cool indifference. You thought this would’ve been a bigger deal - an FBI agent handing you his sweater - but his display of equanimity made you choose not to pay any more attention to it than you already did. 

He began asking you questions about the neighborhood, the people, even about the town. You became acutely uneasy with every question you answered, hoping you were saying the right things. It wasn’t like you were guilty of anything, but being interrogated like this just put you on-edge. You hoped that he was able to distinguish that the source of your anxiousness came from the situation, and not from any possible criminal activity that could be related to the case he was working on. 

As curious as you were about why he was asking these questions, to begin with, you thought it might actually be better not to know. Otherwise, you might grow paranoid, but still, you couldn’t help but ask the obvious - “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all. And if you do find something suspicious, just give me a call.” He reached inside his satchel and retrieved a card to hand to you with all of his contact information on it. 

“So how do I know you’re not actually the guy I should be suspicious of and this was all just to get me off your radar? Or a ruse to get into my house?” You joked, flipping the card between your index and middle finger. 

He had to chuckle at this. “Well, if you truly suspected something about me, why would you open the door for me?” He crossed his arms and put them on the table. “What was it about me that told you I was trustworthy enough to cross the threshold?” 

Without missing a beat, you told him, “You wouldn’t hurt me.” 

You’d never spoken with that kind of confidence or speed before, but something incredibly right about what you said. 

He wouldn’t hurt you. You just knew.

“What makes you think I won’t?” His question sounded serious, but you swore there was some sort of a sexual undertone in his voice. 

You tried to think of a satisfactory answer, but all you knew for sure what that your gut was telling you he wasn’t bad. Maybe it was something soft about his eyes, maybe the color that resembled sweet honey.

“A hunch, I guess?” 

He seemed delighted that his smoldering intensity had an effect on you. He was proud of how the heat of this moment alone shook your confident core. He caused you to revert back into a blubbering mess after he looked at you. You were intimidated by him. 

“So you’re not scared of me?” However, you chose to answer him would build up his ego either way. Because even if you lied, your body language wouldn’t. It would tell the truth and nothing but. 

You tried your best to make your voice smooth, and free of shakiness caused by fear. “No, I’m not scared of you.” 

‘Well, you should be.’ His eyes seemed to say. 

That’s when he reached both hands onto one side of the table and pushed, causing the table to slide out of the way. Like how a prey bolts when the predator nears, you shot up from the chair and backed up into the nearest wall. Theoretically, it wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to escape, but you didn’t want to escape - you wanted him to attack. You liked it. 

Spencer’s massive hands encased your neck completely, occasionally adjusting the force with which he used to choke you. Sometimes he’d let go, just for a second, so you could breathe, but it only made things crueler because, in the next breath, or lack thereof, he’d tighten his grip and choke out any air you were gasping for. Before you started seeing stars, you watched his eyes. They were darker than wine. He was enjoying this.

While your head lolled backward, the rest of your body seemed to tranquilize too. You had no control of your movements, so your body was shed of his cardigan when your arms straightened by your sides. You were like a rag doll. A toy. 

You were completely submissive to him. He had you under a spell that was cast by the magic of his dominant touch. 

“Still think I won’t hurt you?” He growled into your ear. He was so close you could actually smell him and feel the heat radiating off his body. 

He loosened the noose he made with his hands so you could speak. 

“You want to . . . but you won’t.” You replied between short breaths. 

Finally, he removed his hands completely, making your feet crash hard onto the ground. You didn’t even grasp that he was suffocating you using such a firm grip that you actually levitated off the ground. He managed to hold all of your weight and lift you up just by bracing your neck. 

“You can hurt me if you want,”

He looked too eager to hear you say that, making you want to fight for dominance.

“But only if I get to do what I want to do, too.” 

His sweet honey eyes intensified with fervor.

He put one hand on the wall and leaned forward, shortening the distance between you two. Soon enough your faces are millimeters apart. You look down at his soft lips with doe eyes, so he feels comfortable making the first move to kiss you. At first, it’s gentle and hesitant. A total departure from the dominance he was displaying just seconds before. But then he sneaks his free hand into your hair and pushes your head slightly to deepen the kiss. 

Not even meaning to, he bucked his hips forward, making your back arch against the wall. Reid takes this opportunity to remove his hand from the wall and place it on the small of your back. Slowly and sloppily, he moves away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses down your chin, neck, and onto your collarbone. Meanwhile, his hand has traveled up to the knot that secured your button up, and in one swift tug, the knot came undone.

“You are way too good at that.” You breathlessly acknowledge, shrugging the shirt off of yourself. 

You feel him smirk against your skin. 

Cocky bastard. 

His ever growing desire to see more of you overcomes him, and he can’t stop after just removing your shirt. So with the same unbridled passion he used to choke you, he pulled at the hem of your skirt, forcing it down and off of you. Threads practically ripped at the vigor of his actions. 

He must’ve recognized a look in your eyes that said he was a little overdressed in comparison to you because he didn’t stop you when you pulled at his tie and worked it free, so he could unbutton his shirt.

With your body nearly bare and the only thing stopping him from railing you being his pants, he continued the deed. Reid puts a hand on the back of your thigh to hike your leg up. You gasp at the hasty change in positions. He was as ravenous as a predator, but his hunger was something only you could satiate - and he was hungry for more.

Spencer left a trail of wet kisses from your collarbone, to your sternum, and then along your tummy. All the while, your leg is still hiked up. When Spencer goes on bended knee, your leg rests on his shoulder, keeping your legs spread out.

“Tell me what you want.” He commands, before placing slow kisses along your inner thigh. 

“I-” You’re at a total loss for words as Spencer’s kisses deliberately inch closer and closer.

“Is this what you want?” 

In an almost chivalrous way, rather than taking your panties off and leaving you completely exposed, he pulls them to one side, giving him complete access.

“Yes. Yes.” You cry out, while you watch Spencer briskly lick his middle and ring finger. 

Your body betrays you when he grazes his fingers along your lips, teasing you. You’re almost certain your legs would’ve given out underneath you if it hadn’t been for Reid stabilizing you with a steady hand on the leg that wasn’t hooked over his shoulder. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He purrs, slowly easing into the penetration. It’s almost worse having him enter you so unhurriedly as the process of adjusting to his fingers is drawn out. He refuses to increase his speed, wanting to see her beg for more. 

“Does that feel good?” 

You nod.

“Use your words, love.” 

“Yes, yes, it does.”

Your validation does the trick. He begins to sink into you deeper and faster. You begin to fight for breath as Spencer curls his fingers. Until he knows you’re on the brink of finishing, his pace is relentless. You were so close, but devilishly, he pulled out.

“Spencer!” You yell, but before enough of your scream makes a sound, he plunges his fingers deep into your mouth, to taste yourself on them. This gesture is well received as you begin to suck on his fingers, pleasing him greatly. 

“Good girl.” He utters. 

You let your eyes drop from his honey ones to the growing bulge in his pants. For you cannot speak, you peer down at his pants and up at his eyes to ask for permission. He nods once and watches as you begin to unzip his trousers.

As you palm him through his briefs, you feel the warmth of his precum through the fabric. Without being able to control yourself, you lowered his briefs just enough to completely reveal him. Your eyes enlarge at the sight. 

“You like that?” He coos. 

You still can’t speak with Spencer’s fingers in your mouth so you nod instead. 

Graciously, Spencer gives you room to breathe by taking his appendages out of your mouth and uses them instead to grip your hips and turn you away from him. He slammed the front of your body into the wall, causing your cheek to press against it. 

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” It was so bewildering how he managed to say things like that, proving he cared about you, but still dominated you with unrelenting aggression. 

“Do you want me to wear -” You didn’t even let him finish his question. You cut him off by arching your butt so it would graze over his cock. In this, you gave him your answer. Your body yearned for him and you desperately needed to feel him raw.

Unlike when he was fingering you earlier, he accelerated his movements. He fucked you with an animalistic speed. You didn’t even have time to adjust to his full length before he pulled back and thrust again. His pelvis rammed into your ass so hard with each forward movement that would surely leave bruises on you both. 

What you felt was indescribable. The pain would be quickly replaced by pleasure, only for you to feel pain again. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. He was hurting you, but in the best kind of way. Your bodies were tangling and merging. The heat that circulated in the air around you and the humidity emitting from your skin was ruthless. 

On fire. 

That’s what you felt - on fucking fire. 

Spencer’s strokes picked up and started hitting you in a spot that made you cry out in anguish. You actually started standing on the balls of your feet, practically tip-toeing. With your palms pushed against the wall, it was only a matter of time before you clawed a hole into it. Truthfully, a guy never made you cum before, so this was a completely new feeling. It was like pressure was building up inside of you and you had to release it, but right when you thought you’d come undone, the pressure only increased. Neither you nor Spencer had to vocalize that you were reaching your peaks because your bodies were saying everything unsaid. And just when you thought the air couldn’t get stickier, and the heat couldn’t get hotter, you and Spencer came at the same time. The only word you could use to describe the feeling was sublime. Not the sex (well partially the sex of course) but Spencer. 

Sublime.

His pace slowed down exponentially while he drew you closer to him to leave butterfly kisses along your shoulder. His arms enveloped you at his waist, and you almost indulged in his embrace by leaning into his chest, but there was no time when the doorbell rang. 

“Trick-or-treat!” A group of kids yelled from outside. 

You looked behind you exchanging looks that read, ‘Oh shit.’

Spencer flipped the light switch off that was right beside you before you took his hand and ran with him down the hallway giggling. 

Here you were - two grown ups running from kids that wanted candy. How childish. 

It was the combination of being choked, having sex, and running that left you breathless, but after a few minutes your heartbeat slowed down. 

“I think they’re gone.” Spencer observed.

You trusted he was right and retreated from the room with extra caution. You reached into the dark to feel for the light switch. After the lights came back on, you saw Spencer crouching down, gathering your clothes off the floor. 

You wanted to stop him to save him the inconvenience, but he was already helping you back into your clothes before you could even say, “I’ve got it.”

Spencer gingerly slid your mini skirt up your legs, frowning slightly at the tear in it that he caused. It was like evidence of his roughness, and he didn’t like it. 

“Sorry about that.” He murmured. 

You told him not to worry and that the rip made the skirt look cooler, which you could tell didn’t lessen his guilt, but it was good enough to make him smile and that was the intention anyway. Next to dress you in was the button up, and you had to laugh when, instead of tying a knot at the front, he opted for buttoning it up all the way to the collar. It was like he was trying to protect your modesty and dress you to look more respectable. Last to put on was his cardigan. After a small comment about letting you keep it, he started redressing. This is a moment you duly noted. 

He took care of you first. 

Was it stupid to fawn over such a small thing? Him helping you dress up first before he even dressed himself? 

Your thoughts carried you so far away you didn’t even realize he already finished dressing and was putting on his messenger bag. 

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You nudged his shoulder with your index finger trying to be lighthearted, even though the heavy weight of your inevitable goodbye was weighing on you. 

He chuckled and licked his lips before responding. “Happy Halloween.” 

You turned around to begin the miserable walk toward the door, while he was right on your heels, following closely behind. You opened the door for him to walk through and you smiled as the two of you lingered in the doorway. Evidently, neither one of you was quite ready to say goodbye. 

Your mouth must’ve become a completely separate entity since you started hearing words rolling off your tongue without even processing them beforehand. “I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me not because of what you said or what you did, but because of what you didn’t say or what you didn’t do.”

There was something about the unsaid and the undone that told you everything about the unknown.

With an understanding nod, Spencer took a step away from the threshold. 

He kept his head down and his eyes on the floor as he walked away with his hands in his pockets. The hopeless romantic in you wished he would look over his shoulder and back at you, or stop walking and turn around and run back up to you, but he didn’t. You almost thought he’d stop at the gate and say something, but no. He didn’t say a single thing. And for some reason, that was okay. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

You clasped your black push up bra behind your back, adjusting it in the front for maximum cleavage. Then you put on fishnets and a pair of black booty shorts. Last to put on was a white polo button up. That’s when you remembered it was the exact same shirt you wore for last year’s costume. It was weirdly nostalgic. You only fastened the shirt until it hid your midriff, but left the buttons that would expose your bra unclasped. 

To say what happened next felt like some supernatural spirit came into the room with you would be a gross understatement, because as soon as you stopped buttoning your shirt, you could see and feel Spencer’s ghost in front of you buttoning the rest. All the way up to the collar just as he did last year. 

So, just for Spencer, you fastened one extra button.

You painted fake blood under your nose and straightened your hair, which wasn’t giving off the desired effect. A black wig or a prop cigarette would’ve made your costume much more clear, but you’d been too lazy this year to obtain either of those things, so really the only obvious sign of who you were was the bloody nose.

Mia Wallace. Pulp Fiction. 

Before stepping out of the house to join your friends, you put on thigh high black boots. 

Luckily, they all saw what you were going for with your costume, so you felt slightly better, but there was still something weighing on your heart that kept you at a distance from your friends tonight. 

Handing out candy to trick-or-treaters wasn’t really your speed this year, so you opted for joining your friends at a club. At first, you were able to convince yourself that you were having fun and that you weren’t completely miserable, but as the night continued, it became harder to lie to yourself. You weren’t having fun. Sitting in the silence here was most definitely not fun. Not to say the club was quiet, but you were. And the silence was deafening. See with Spencer, when you didn’t speak, whether it was when he left you that night wordlessly, or when you came together without even vocalizing that you would, the silence was okay. It was welcome. But here tonight, watching your friends enjoy themselves on the dance floor - the silence was suffocating. The longer you sat there watching them, the more you noticed how they weren’t calling you onto the dance floor to join them. No one cared to include you. It felt like a sign. That you should leave, because if your presence didn’t matter, your absence wouldn’t either. So you slipped out of the club, not surprised that no one saw you and stopped you or begged you to stay. You got into your car and instantly unzipped your boots. No wonder you wore converse last year, heels hurt like hell. When you threw the shoes into the backseat, you caught a glimpse of something lying on the floor. 

Dark gray cardigan. 

You’d forgotten that that was even there. Would it be weird to wear it again? It was a cold autumn night, and it wasn’t like you were wearing much to shield you from the cold, so merely for the warmth, you put on the cardigan. 

You were in such a rush to be in your own bed again that you probably broke a couple traffic laws. After all, there wasn’t anything quite like seeing your house again after hours of wanting to be home. 

But then again, nothing could compare to seeing Spencer Reid sitting on your doorstep reading. Absolutely nothing. 

“Spencer?” You asked while blinking hard to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You didn’t know how you could tell it was him, but there was something in you that just knew. The same kind of gut feeling that told you he wouldn’t hurt you.

He looked up from his book and shut it with a smile when he saw you. You opened the gate and met him halfway in the walkway. 

“You still have my cardigan,” He laughed while taking in the sight. “Mia Wallace, right?” 

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him. In the light, you could actually make out his features. He looked older now. His hair was longer and much curlier than you remembered. He even had some scruff on his face. 

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You recited the exact words you said and poked him in the shoulder just as you did last year. 

“Happy Halloween.” He grinned, immediately understanding the reference. 

“So . . . who are you dressed as this year?” It was only a playful question, but it seemed like he was ready to give you a serious answer. 

Though his looks were deceiving and telling you that Spencer changed, his behavior told you he was still the same Spencer he was before. He looked everywhere except for right at you as he tried to think with an answer, and when he finally did speak, he couldn’t meet your eyes for very long. He still had his boyish charm. 

“I, um, I’m dressed as someone who didn’t get very much sleep, spontaneously booked a flight, and came straight here to tell you he needed to see you again.”

“Mmm, very cool costume.” You quipped. When your laughs died off, a new type of silence emerged. It was very different from the kind you were drowning in at the club earlier. This time, the quietude was rejuvenating. The two of you were simply taking in the feeling of being in each other’s presence again. 

“Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?” You asked, quoting Mia Wallace. 

Of course, he knew what the next line was. “I don’t know. That’s a good question.” He replied, quoting Vincent Vega. 

“That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.” 

With that, the comfortable quietude returned to fall upon the two of you again, but you enjoyed it because you’d found somebody special that made things like silence sublime.

So much more was said in the unsaid. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[amane-by-together]

Sweet || Yugi Amane

genre: tooth-rotting fluff

warning: too much fluff, slightly heated content, and fluff

summary: just amane spoiling [name] with his love and affection.

[name] fluttered her eyes open while furrowing her eyebrows, she probably moved a muscle that made her wake up in the midst of night. The small threads of moon light are shining through the window pane hitting her visuals.

The night sky was brimming with many stars perfect for stargazing to fall asleep while looking at them. [name] sighed closing her eyes and creasing her brows in hopes of falling back to sleep.

But she can't.

[name] turned her head to the side and saw her boyfriend snuggling against her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist so protectively while sleeping soundly. [name] envied Amane for falling asleep so easily while she can't.

"I can't sleep..." [name] mumbled angrily under her breath. As much as she wanted to toss and turn on their bed but Amane is holding her close and it looks like he doesn't want to let her go. "Amane-kun...?" she whispered while turning to his side.

"Mmmm..." Amane hummed tiredly then he digs his face to her neck. [name] pouted, he looks like he doesn't want to wake up at any moment.

"[name], you needed something...?" The female blushed at his husky tone. [name] covered her face using Amane's shirt that she was currently wearing.

As much as [name] doesn't want to admit that she is in need of Amane's affection especially when she's having trouble going back to sleep after waking up. Then she felt him chuckle against her neck. "Can't sleep?"

[name] nodded. Amane lazily pecked her cheek and rolled off to the side. "Give me five minutes, I'll spoil you when I wake up." he grinned making [name]'s lips curl up into a smile. "I don't want my girl to sleep without being spoiled by me~"

"Come here..." Amane swiftly pulled her into a hug just as the latter elicits a small squeak at the sudden action causing her head to clash on to his chest. "Ack." he whispered at the impact.

Amane closed his eyes to doze off for five minutes then he can go smother name with kisses and hugs after that. [name] let out a bored sigh from her lips while ruffling his disheveled hair but then an idea popped inside her head. She smirked slowly slipping her hand under his shirt, brushing her fingertips to his abdomen.

[name] tried to hold back her giggles at the look of Amane's face, knitting his eyebrows at how cold her hands are but still remained asleep. "[name]... I swear stop it..." Amane mumbled in his sleep but she still continues by softly tapping his skin underneath. "Mmm, stop...it"

Out of nowhere, Amane grabbed her hands and pinned them to the sides of her head. [name]'s cheeks grew red then shifting glances across the room until her eyes met with his amber ones. "[name], I said five minutes..." he said in a husky voice because he recently woke up. "How do you plan to make it up for me~?"

[name] gulped hard then she bit her lip and looking away with a blush. "A-Amane-kun! L-let's settle this!" she nervously yelled out.

"With you being under me?" Amane smirked as he slowly hiked up the sweater he was wearing. "Even better~"

"Y-you wouldn't do that!" [name] furiously blushes. Amane was known to mislead [name] all the time, which results of getting the wrong idea.

"You have no idea what I wanted to do with you~" Amane chuckled lowly at her. [name] was a stuttering mess trying to make him change his mind. He lowered himself to [name], leaning against her ear. "So let's test out what I'm about to do~"

[name] squeezed her eyes shut when Amane hooked his finger to the neckline of her shirt. "And when I did so, this shirt will be on the floor along with your shorts..."

When Amane saw the look on her face he grinned childishly and released himself from [name]. "I'm kidding~" he sang.

[name]'s eyes twitched just as Amane was smiling brightly at her. When he's misleading her, there's always that damned duality that Amane has, where he would be holding your hand on the streets and having you under the sheets—

[name] looked away from him, blushing madly as she sat up. Amane laughed pointing a finger at her. "You were disappointed that I'm not gonna do it, weren't you~"

"I-I'm not hoping for anything or whatever!" [name] hugged herself while rubbing her arms. Amane crawled over to the lamp next to their bed and dimmed the lights. "But I appreciate if you stop teasing me..." she mumbled.

Amane smiled softly at [name], he scoots over to her and hugged her from behind holding her tightly. "I'm sorry but you're just too cute, I can't help but to tease you~"

"Oh I know!" Amane's eyes lit up with joy squishing his cheek against hers. "I'll just spoil you with my love to make up for that~"

[name] nodded slowly, even though they were together for many years she was still shy and flustered around Amane so she lets him initiate things first, which she likes. [name] suddenly shivered, the air from the air conditioner started to get cold. "You're cold?" Amane asked.

"Kinda." [name] scratched her cheek.

Amane lovingly stares at [name], he slowly laced their fingers together just as the latter look back at him and their intertwined hands. “I like how your hands fit with mine...” he softly grinned next to her. “Back then, I would use excuses just to hold your hand, remember?”

“Why do you have nice hands.” [name] asked, pouting at Amane's gorgeous hands around her small hands. “I’m envious cuz mine are small.”

"You shouldn't feel that way, [name]." Amane assured her as he begins to play with her fingers. "I love you and your hands, sweetheart..."

[name] felt her heart melting at his words, and then she started to blush and giggle. Amane looked over to her. "I mean I love every portion of you," he added while hugging her tighter as if he doesn't want to let her go. "And I will love you for the rest of my life..."

"You're lovely and sweet, [name]~" Amane reached over to pinch her cheek lightly. "And adorable~" he grinned then he started to squish her cheeks.

Amane hugged her again, resting his chin on her shoulder. [name] suddenly shivered when the cold wind from the air conditioner hits her skin. "Still cold?" he asked in a soft whisper.

"Yeah..." An idea popped inside Amane's mind, he smirked slyly at [name], which caused her to look back in confusion. Amane dug his face to the crook of her neck, his right hand slowly made its way to her thigh. "A-Amane—?"

Then all of a sudden, [name] felt his lips on her neck to shut her up. Heat rises to her whole face and her heart beating faster than a shooting star in the sky. Amane smirked against her neck, knowing that he already made her weak, he decided to take it further by softly biting to her skin making the latter release an innocent mewl from [name]'s lips.

"W-Wait~ what are you doing~" [name] whimpered out as Amane continued to give her soft and sloppy kisses to her shoulder and her collarbone. Her breathing became uneven. "A-Amane~haah~"

Amane pulled away from her and grinned. "I'm warming you up, sweetheart~"

Amane started to lean towards her collarbone to her shoulder and started to give her red and purplish lovebites. He loves marking [name], reminding that she was his.

The two of them looked at each others lips, few moments before the real thing. Amane placed his hand on [name]'s cheek, tracing her bottom lip using his thumb. He looked at her with half lidded eyes, slowly leaning in.

Amane grabbed the sheets, still holding his loving gaze on [name]. Just before their lips crash, he pulled the sheets over them then hovering on top of her to kiss her.

Amane kissed [name], it was some sort of a silent promise of loving each other. It held passion and serendipity. The way their lips moved shyly against each other but then Amane decided to make the kiss a little heated.

He gently tugged her bottom lip making the latter part her lips. Amane slipped his tongue inside her mouth gently swirling against hers. The two of them pulled away from each others lips, a thin trail of glistening saliva connected between their tongues.

The atmosphere turned warm as the two of them panted softly for air. Amane looked down on [name], her hair was disheveled, and her hickeys running down from her collarbone to her shoulder.

[name] was still breathless from the amorous session, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes are clouded with pleasure. She raised her hand to her mouth and averted her gaze. Amane snickered. "You're pretty vocal, [name]~"

"Shut up," she grumbled earning an airy laugh from Amane. He laid down next to her and wrapped his lanky arms around her waist. [name] snuggled against his chest as Amane kissed the crown of her head. "..."

[name] smiled. "I always love cuddling with you," Amane mentions while playing with her hair. "I can even feel your heart beating against your chest, it makes me happy that it's beating for me..."

Amane slipped his hands under the back of [name]'s shirt and he started to draw hearts underneath using his fingers. "I forgot to mention, you look really cute under me~" he smirked.

"E-Eh?!" [name] slightly scooted away, glancing up to Amane, meeting his amber eyes with hers.

"I never thought, we'll end up like this..." A soft smile was plastered upon [name]'s visuals as she spoke. "With me being in your arms and all that..."

"[name], being with you is euphoric." Amane tells her. "Just by looking at you, it felt like the whole world was slowing down and I can only focus on you."

"But like, words can't describe how much you're important to me and how much I really love you." Amane brought his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks. "I rather look at you than the moon and stars because you outshined all of them..."

"Words may not be enough to tell you that I love you but my actions towards you would." he whispered softly. "Maybe one day when we're both ready, I'll make love to you..."

[name] tiredly hummed in response. Amane started to peppering her face with kisses which caused the latter to blush and giggle. "I guess we should go to sleep now..." he mentions as he hugged her. "We'll continue this tomorrow..."

"I'm looking forward to it..." [name] replied before closing her eyes and drifted to dreamland. Amane leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips and said.

"I love you so much [name]..."

For the rest of the night, where their hearts are beating in sync against their chests, the two lovers slept in each others arms...embracing each others warmth for the cold night.

===============================

a/n: stressed✨ but hab sum fluff hehe~

like and reblog if you love this oneshot~❤❤❤

[jamilelucato]

Imperfect [O.W.]

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Gryffindor!reader

Summary: Y/N is always trying out for the Quidditch team, and Oliver is tired of telling her no, so he decides to change it.

A/N: I know I have some requests yet and I’ll write them, but this idea of Oliver got stuck in my mind so I had to write it and it’s so cute! Oliver is so cute!!

Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

Words: +8.200

It was a beautiful morning to play Quidditch. But then again, if you ask Oliver, he would have said any morning is good enough for Quidditch. Today, he had an extra job than just managing his team. It was tryouts day — Gryffindor needed a new chaser.

Oliver Wood was thankful when he arrived in the pitch and saw that his teammates were already there. He expected Angelina, and maybe Alicia, but he wasn’t expecting the twins to arrive in time.

“A lot of people came,” commented Alicia, to fill the silence of an early morning. The teammates were good friends, but at such hour, they weren’t used to talk a lot.

Oliver took this as an opportunity to analyze the stands and found out Alicia was right. A lot of brave Gryffindors showed up, which was a surprise. Since only one spot was available, people generally avoided coming in lots.

Angelina stepped closer to Oliver, speaking a low whisper, her tone marked with pity: “Oh, no, she’s gonna try out again.”

Oliver followed Angelina’s eye, knowing very well who Angelina was referring to and trying to find her in the middle of the Gryffindors. He found her sitting on the first roll of the stands, holding her broom tight to her chest. If this were a photograph and someone had shown it to Wood, he wouldn’t have been able to tell each year was it taken on, because, since they were second-years she used to sit there in tryouts, waiting for a chance.

Oliver sighed involuntarily. He hated feeling pity for the girl because he knew that she truly didn’t deserve it. She was a smart, pretty girl who he shouldn’t take pity. She had other things to be proud of herself, Oliver was sure of it, but then why, why did she insist on showing up for trials every single time, even when the answer never changed?

“Good luck with her,” Angelina said, staring back at her old friend. She knew about the girl because she watched most of the times that Oliver had to say no to her.

“Don’t say it like that,” Oliver reprehended Angelina, his tone a little too harsh. He usually didn’t speak so seriously unless a match was about to start so it confused Angelina.

“Oli, are you feeling sympathy for her? Because you have to remember she’s terrible. I can give her points for trying, but that will not make us win a game,” Angelina said, touching, softly, her friend’s shoulder.

“Just... start the trials,” Oliver sighed, brushing Angelina’s touch off. He couldn’t stop staring at the girl, and he was happy to find her oblivious to the stares. Oliver and Angelina weren’t the only ones who knew she was terrible and yet kept coming — Oliver was quite sure that every Gryffindor in their year knew it too.

Angelina started calling the official team to their position, and she stole the list of names Oliver was carrying in his left hand. She was about to read aloud the first name when she noticed that it belonged to the girl in the stands — y/N y/L/N. Angie sighed, deciding to start bottom to top, giving herself more time to deal with the inadequate player.

“Oli, let’s go,” Angelina called her captain’s attention when the first trial was about to start. She was deep down worried Oliver was going to do something stupid towards that girl because why couldn’t he stop staring at her?

Thankfully, when the games started, Oliver Wood was distracted with Quidditch too much to remember y/N. He loved the sport, and Angie doubted there could be anything that could mislead him from that.

By the time they were testing the seventh chaser, Oliver was confident he had found the one: a girl from fifth-year who didn’t miss one chance to score. However, there were still eight other players in the stands waiting for their turn, and Oliver couldn’t let them all go without giving them a shot. He doubted they could be better than the fifth-year girl, but it was worthy.

The matches were capable of distracting him, but always when they were over, Oliver returned to face the girl huddled in the stands, y/N. With each new student they tested, y/N seemed to shrink even more.

Oliver wondered why she did this, why she kept showing up. It couldn’t be that after almost six years of rejection, she didn’t get the message.

“She’s the only one left,” Angelina said, looking at the stands.

The whole team groaned behind the two — Fred, George and Alicia knew very well how terrible y/N was. Oliver was beginning to think Harry Potter had understood that too, even if he was still new there.

“Today’s more crowded than the other times she participated,” Angelina pondered out loud. “People will laugh at her, Oli,” she looked down at her broom, her expression a mix of compassion and worry.

They knew she was terrible, but the rest of Gryffindor didn’t need to.

“Okay, listen up,” Oliver breathed hard two times before gathering the courage to do what he was about to do. “I’ll need more time to consider my options,” the whole crowd complained, causing Oliver to turn his eyes. His hands went to his waist as he tried very hard to not look at the girl in the first roll of the stands. “But later on I’ll call you all back here, or at least the best of you, and will try again.”

“Try again?” someone shouted, clearly angry.

“Yeah, you heard me,” the crowd wasn’t the only ones complaining — Fred and George were calling Oliver nuts in his back. “In fifteen days, we’ll try this again.”

“Oliver, what are you doing?” Angelina flew closer to the captain, her face clearly showing her surprise with Wood’s decision. “Thought it was going to be Katie Bell?”

Oliver swallowed hard, sure that not only Angelina was worried, but so the whole stands. “I need more time to think,” he said, letting his eyes finally wander to y/N.

The end of his sentence made things a little easier for the crowd, who left murmuring, but thankfully none of them was saying bad things about Oliver.

The girl in the stands fought against herself, a mixture of desires — the first was to disappear; the second was to raise her hand and warn them that they had not tested her.

“Oliver, what are you doing?” Angelina asked, knowing very well what her friend was doing, but not believing it anyway. Oliver didn’t answer because he didn’t know either.

Oliver finally dared to face y/N and noticed how her mouth opened and closed without saying a thing. Still, on the broom, he flew to where she was. He was able to fly efficiently, so even when his emotions closed his eyes, he knew he was making the right way to the girl.

“Oliver Wood,” the girl murmured, gulping in surprise. “Captain,” she said again, a bit louder, and Oliver looked down at his own hands. “I hate to be the one that mentions it, but you forgot me.”

Oliver finally looked at her, suddenly locked in her beautiful eyes, lost in her mystic for a second. “I’m sorry?” he managed to say.

“You forgot to try me out,” she gulped again, and her cheeks instantly pinked up. She seemed to notice what had happened to her face because her hands let the broom fall next to her seat, and she covered her mouth with them.

“Yeah, well, new tryouts are happening in fifteen days, so... we can do it later,” he said, really not sure of what to say next. It was like he wasn’t thinking, and that would be a first for him — to be thoughtless in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

“Why’s that though?” she questioned, raising her left brow slightly. Oliver gulped, knowing that his answer was going to embarrass her and kill him.

“Because of me?” she asked, and if Oliver believed her face was red before, it’s because he didn’t know the power she had hidden — right at that moment, she was only red.

“Yes,” Oliver sighed, knowing he had to say it once and for all. “Y/N, I know how you play. I was there in your first tryout—”

“—Yeah, I remember, we sat together. You were really nervous,” y/N interrupted, but Oliver didn’t care. He knew she did it to call his attention to another thing, something that wasn’t her game skills.

“—and since then, you haven’t got much better. You usually play with your emotions, and every time someone else scores or you don’t score, you get angry,” Oliver continued, getting off his broom and sitting next to her in the stands, placing his broom next to hers. That was when he noticed that her broom was a Firebolt, “when you get angry, your play tactics get even worse. Wait a minute — you have a Firebolt??”

Her eyes widened, while her nose wrinkled slightly. Y/N didn’t know what to say. Yes, she had a Firebolt and knew very well that it was one of the best brooms on the market, which meant it was one of the most expensive. Many professional teams didn’t have that broom yet, so someone like her, who didn’t play anything, was not expected to have it.

“Yes, it’s a Firebolt,” she played with her fingers, trying to calm herself down. There was a secret behind the broomstick, and Oliver Wood was the last person she wanted to find out. “It was a gift; it doesn’t matter.”

Oliver noticed she was trying to brush it off, so he dropped the subject. Perhaps she was the daughter of a rich pureblood he didn’t know. It didn’t matter much, she was right, but it did incentivize him, even more, to proceed with his idea.

“Anyway, what I want to say is that I have a plan,” he said, clasping his hand in the other and crossing his fingers, making his features more serious, intending to intimidate her into agreeing. Now that he knew she had a Firebolt, he couldn’t let the broom go to waste. “I want to train you.”

She gasped, and Oliver watched her expression change and go through many emotions before she finally decided to stick with denial and shame.

“Oliver, you can’t be serious, I mean, look at me,” she started loud and ended whispering. “I’m fine with the simple rejection — say you don’t want me in the team. You won’t be my first ‘no’.”

“But I don’t want it to be a no. The amount of bravery and dedication it takes you to show up year after year, hoping for a chance to get in — that’s the kinda loyalty I want in my team,” he said, avoiding looking at her to embarrass her even more. His eyes found the pitch, where Angelina watched the two with a confused expression. She and Fred were the only two left — he seemed to be talking to Angie, but she focused on Oliver and y/N. “We just need to turn you into a good player, that’s all.”

“That’s why you postponed the trials?”

Oliver didn’t answer — he didn’t want the girl to think she was too much special.

“But fifteen days isn’t enough, you of all people should know that,” she commented, pointing at him but with a delicate pout.

“You forget who will be training you,” Oliver smirked, trying his best to make it look casual as if he cast smirks at all the girls he knows. “I can turn you into a good chaser, good enough to pass the trial and then, you can train with the team.”

Pressing her lips hard on a pout, y/N shook her head from side to side. Oliver was sure she would say no to his ridiculous plan and run away. But she surprised him.

“Fine. Fifteen days of training, I suppose I can handle it,” y/N giggled nervously. “These will be the most training days I’ve ever had.”

Her lasts words surprised Oliver, who tried hard not to look so disappointed. He was going to work extra hard with y/N if he wanted her to be at least a sub on the team.

But as he watched her gather her stuff and leave with a smile, he was sure she was worth it.

***

“I can’t believe what you did,” Angelina complained as soon as Oliver sat down in the Gryffindor table to the feast.

“Which part? The part where he delayed the tryouts—” “—or the part where he picked the worst player ever to be his protégé?” George ended the question for his twin in a sarcastic tone, both of them frowning at Oliver.

Oliver rolled his eyes, diverting his attention to the food. He wasn’t ready to deal with his teammates. He knew they wouldn’t get it, and Oliver couldn’t ask them to understand because even he couldn’t.

He was enjoying the chicken when, unintentionally, his eyes left the plate and landed on the girl who sat on the other side of the table, at the far end of it, y/N y/L/N. He wasn’t sure how his senses noticed she had just arrived, but once he gazed at her, he couldn’t help but glimpse in that direction at least once in a minute.

“You still need to come to our practices, do you hear?” Angelina asked, her voice sounded like she was miles away, but she was sitting next to Oliver.

He swung his head, avoiding the obvious that was beginning to boil in his chest.

“I’ll be there, Angie,” he replied, finishing his plate.

The table gradually cleared, and thanks to Merlin, Oliver had stopped looking away in the direction of y/N.

When Fred Weasley was about to get up and leave, Oliver called for his mate, taking advantage that Angelina was no longer close.

“What is it, Wood?”

“I need your help,” Oliver said, locking his jaw and exposing his teeth.

“What do you need?” Fred sighed, crossing his arms as he faced Oliver from above.

“I reckon you know some secrets about the castle, and I need to know one of them.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, excited to discover a side of Oliver that he didn’t think existed and answered everything he could, trying to help in the best way.

***

“Get up, y/N.”

“No, mum, it’s too early,” y/N mumbled in her sleep, her eyes didn’t even open, and her mouth barely moved to speak those words.

“Get up, y/N. It’s Oliver, not your mom.”

Her eyes flew open in the dark in fright, and her hands ran to her hair as she futilely tried to control the mess.

“Oliver, what are you doing here??”

“Shh! Everyone’s still asleep,” he whispered, pulling away from her bed, giving her room to get up. “I’ll wait for you in the common room. Our training starts today, did you forget?”

She didn’t answer anything, still in the trance of having a beautiful, polite and surprisingly scented boy so early in the middle of her dorm.

“Come on, get changed,” he whispered a little louder this time since he was already at the door. He opened it and left, giving y/N a little peace for a few seconds, while she took a deep breath after the fright moment.

After wearing something comfortable but thick, because it was too early, so it was very windy, she left her room.

“How the hell did you get through the spells that block guys?” she asked before saying anything else. She was more curious than worried.

“Fred told me how,” he shrugged.

“Of course he did,” she puffed, holding her broom closer and following him out of the common room. “Just... don’t do it again, okay? You really scared me.”

Oliver held in a smile, afraid that she could misinterpret him.

“Aren’t we going to the Quidditch pitch?” she asked when they stopped in the school lawn, where the younger students took the flying classes.

“No need, not for your first lesson,” Oliver explained, opening a trunk that was already in the middle of the lawn. He probably had wakened up way earlier than y/N presumed, just to put it there.

While he opened it and decided which of the balls to take, y/N took her time to appreciate what Oliver was doing for her. They were never actually friends, so it wasn’t like he owed her anything.

“Well, for starters, do you know which one you have to focus on, as a chaser?” he asked, and she chuckled.

“Hey, Oliver, that, at least, I know,” she joked.

However, he didn’t seem to find it funny because he ignored her playful tone.

“Good, that’s good,” he got the Quaffle and started walking away from y/N. “Get on your broom.”

She did as asked, interested with what he was planning to do since he didn’t get in his broom.

“Now, I’m gonna make some ‘catch and throw’ rounds, okay? Think you can handle it?” he asked, raising a brow towards her, taking more steps away. She simply shook her head an yes.

*** They stayed outside in the lawn for two hours, and he was completely lying when he told y/N that he was going to do just some rounds of throw the Quaffle at her because that was literally all they did.

Yet, y/N got really tired of that, and she could feel her arms melting as if she had lost all her strength. She didn’t want to admit it to him, scared Oliver would think she is weaker than he thought, but even though she kept denying it, Oliver noticed that, after one hour of that exercise, her productivity wasn’t as good as in the first rounds.

“Okay, you can go shower now,” he tried to sound comical, but he was quite sure he failed. “I’ll see you again tonight, at 8 p.m., okay? At the Quidditch pitch.”

Y/N was practically many steps ahead of him, but yet she stopped and walked towards him again.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You can’t at 8? Do you prefer at 9?” he questioned, but he didn’t realize her dissatisfaction.

“Oliver, you want me to come back today? Again?”

Oh, he thought, finally realizing what she was unhappy about. He’s so used to practising Quidditch at any chance he gets that he sometimes forget other people aren’t like him, especially y/N, who isn’t even on the team.

“Don’t worry, I won’t overwork your arms again today; it’ll be a dodging Bludgers exercise,” he explained, getting up and collecting his trunk.

“Still doesn’t sound exciting to come back,” she sniffed, in a sad frown.

“Want me to invite the twins?”

“Hell, no,” she rejected immediately, very aware that, although very funny (they could manage to keep her happy at least), they were very good beaters, and she would suck at dodging their Bludgers.

“See you later, y/N,” Oliver said, walking past her, while she tried to recover herself from the fear of exhaustion.

***

She couldn’t pay attention to any of the day classes, and it was not because of her new Quidditch career ahead of her — it was because, thanks to the Quidditch career, showering took longer than expected and she missed breakfast. And paying attention with an empty stomach (and sore arms) was impossible.

Her mind, walking through the imagination land; her thoughts, starting to make no sense when a piece of paper knocked her in the neck. She unfolded it and read:

Still sore?

It was a simple phrase, and at first, she did not recognize who could have sent it. Until she remembered who sat behind her in McGonagall’s class.

She replied instantly: I’m just hungry. I lost time for breakfast.

Since she got no answers, she tried to pay attention in class once again, but it was almost over, and McGonagall soon freed they all.

“Hey, y/N,” a voice called as soon as y/N stepped out of class. She looked around and found Oliver Wood leaned in one of the pillars holding an apple in his hand. “Take it, it’ll keep you sated until lunchtime.”

She looked at his hand stretched towards her so she could take the fruit, and, for a second, she hesitated. But she decided it was best she ate something.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, but he seemed not to notice.

“We can start earlier tomorrow if you want — you won’t miss breakfast,” he suggested, walking next to her towards her next class.

“No, I rather loose breakfast,” she said, frowning a bit, letting her mind imagine herself waking up at something like 3:30h in the morning — she didn’t doubt he could suggest it.

He chuckled, fascinated with her. He then froze, chocked with himself. That would be a first, Oliver had never felt fascinated by a girl before, only Quidditch news got his fascination. What had changed? Well, maybe he just needed a time walking with people that aren’t in the Quidditch team.

After all, his only best friend was Angelina Johnson, and he only talked to her about the sport.

They walked together to their next classes, surprised to find out they also had the next period together.

***

“Good evening,” Oliver said in the dim light of the Quidditch field. Someone had installed magic lights there a couple of years ago, but they weren’t too good.

Y/N stared at Oliver, angrily. She was only provoking him — she knew what she had signed up for — but he didn’t realize it was a joke.

“Are you okay?”

“Let’s start it so I can go to bed. You woke me up way earlier than I expected today,” she said, reminding herself to laugh afterwards, already picking up the fact that Oliver didn’t have the talent to know when people are pretending to be mad.

He smiled sideways, glad that she was able to joke around him. He was much worried when this all started that y/N would keep blushing every time he said something, and y/N would be shy around him, so it was nice to see that she was getting used to him.

He decided he wasn’t gonna train her much that night, after all, it was just her first day. They didn’t have much time though, and he was afraid they’d need all the time they could get, so he knew tomorrow he would have to take extra hours with her. But he let tomorrow worries be tomorrow problems.

***

It was her ninth day of training, and y/N was about to give up. She was exhausted — she wasn’t paying attention to more than half of her classes, and her homework was pilling up. The amount of pain she was feeling in her arms that were never used to exercise was killing her. She had stopped at Madam Pomfrey to get some potions for the pain, but she was afraid that if she appeared in the Hospital Ward for the fifth day consecutive, Pomfrey would admit her in.

Y/N started seeing other things too — when her mind wasn’t wandering off. She noticed the Gryffindor team was always staring — at the feasts and in the middle of classes —, particularly Angelina.

Quidditch pitch at midnight. (Sorry I didn’t get another time. Slytherin will train until 11:30 p.m.) See you there.

She was already used to the notes Oliver Wood would pass her in the middle of classes. She was glad he was using this system instead of invading her dorm room, even though his calligraphy wasn’t the best.

They were far from midnight, but y/N was already walking around the halls a bit sleepy. She managed to get coffee when she went to her dorm — y/N had to pretend she was going to bed just like everybody else. No one could know she and Oliver were wandering around past curfew.

Her, once very new broom, was now grated, scraped and worn in places. Okay, it was still way better than Oliver’s for instance, but still, she was falling off of it many more times than she wished.

She stared at the clock on the nightstand beside her bed. It was still twenty minutes to midnight, but she didn’t care. She got up, grabbed a jumper and dressed it over a green t-shirt (which was part of her pyjamas) and her black cotton pants.

Oliver wasn’t in the common room, so she kept walking alone with her broom to the Quidditch field, avoiding finding Mr Filch.

She met some Slytherins in her way to outside — a couple of boys in Quidditch uniform, so close to each other she wondered if they were lovers instead of friends.

When she finally got there, she noticed that Oliver’s broom was tossed in the ground, only she couldn’t find him in the dusky light.

She grabbed his broom, leaving her own on the floor instead, and she analyzed it. She had so many better brooms in her house... maybe if she wrote a letter for her mom, she would send y/N’s old Swiftstick 5.0 to Hogwarts. Oliver would like it better than his old one.

Suddenly, a light was turned on, illuminating the field much better than that spell they had cast years ago. Y/N looked around, trying to find the source and noticed a boy at the other side of the field.

“Hey, y/N!” Oliver yelled before jogging to meet y/N. “Much better, huh?” he looked over to the lights.

“What did you do?”

“Asked Flitwick how he did the lighting of here those two years ago and recast the spell. He said it was about time someone did it, but since they stopped using it at night, no one noticed...” Oliver stopped talking once he noticed he might have said too much.

“Well, it’s way better. Definitely better,” y/N smiled, giving Oliver his broom and grabbing back her own.

“Then let’s start. Don’t wanna be here ‘til five in the morning,” Wood joked and was surprised when y/N also chuckled. He knew he was learning to be funny (perhaps her influence), but it was nice to see that she thought he was funny too. “Today we’ll train something more specific — flying in the rain.”

“It’s not raining,” she pointed out, scared of what was yet to come.

Oliver smiled, taking his wand from his back pocket and casting the spell. “Meteolojinx!”

Y/N didn’t even get time to hide when the water started falling over then. It rained so much on them that y/N couldn’t see anything anymore. It made sense for Oliver to want to fix the lighting in the field — without the extra light, she was sure she couldn’t even tell where Oliver was.

“What a spell,” she gasped, riding on her broom and climbing at the ideal height for Quidditch.

Oliver followed and, with some difficulty, she heard his voice: “one against one, can it be?”

She didn’t reply so he took it as a yes. He let the Quaffle out, and both played chaser and keeper because it was a one-person team.

Y/N somehow manage to score — and she knew how hard that was because Oliver was an excellent keeper. She believed he was distracted with his new position of chaser, so she took it as an opportunity. Of course, he scored too, way more than her, actually, but the point there was to make her a better chaser, not a good keeper.

When they collided with each other, the sound of the collision was so loud it almost felt like a clap of thunder. She had no idea if the fake rain could produce thunders though, and she didn’t think much about it since she was falling from her broom of such a height that would scare anyone.

Oliver was falling with her, but because of the rain, she couldn’t see him. “Oliver, are you okay?” she asked, almost sure the fault was hers.

She heard him grunt not so distant from her. When she managed to see his silhouette, she raced next to him.

“Did you break anything? How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand over his cheeks, making sure he wasn’t bleeding in the head.

“I’m okay. Guess I’m used to it. And you?” Oliver asked, shaking his head and passing his hands over his shirt to clean the dirty.

“I guess my broom held on to me as much as it could, so my fall wasn’t that much,” she explained, not sure if her explanation was logical but that what she was believing. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

She offered him her hand, and he took it with a firm grip. She pulled him up stronger than she presumed she could.

Oh, maybe the training is making my arms stronger, she thought in the seconds before Oliver’s body collided with hers again — this time entirely her fault.

The rain seemed to be losing its strength, falling in a weaker cascade, allowing y/N to see Oliver’s face utterly, and so the two noticed that they were very, very close.

And it happened. Without knowing who was the first to approach — perhaps both; perhaps it was solely the circumstance. In a moment, y/N pressed her lips against Oliver’s, felt his body loosen and arms touch her shoulders.

Y/N tells herself she’s not going to think about it, she’s just going to let it happen, but she’s lying — just like she has been every time Oliver touched her during training, to show her a movement or something. She’s remembering every detail of pieces of training before this one, and she is comparing it to the way he kisses her.

It’s not perfect, no. They are in the middle of rain, for Merlin’s sake, of course, it’s not perfect. And Oliver Wood, although very hot, cute, and charming, is no movie prince. He grabs her waist a bit too harsh, he pulls her closer way too slow. But it is worth it. Because they are finally learning about each other, finally seeing themselves for who they are.

Oliver’s overthinking the kiss too. He’s scared he’s doing something she’ll regret. He doesn’t kiss a lot of girls — some brave ones corner him after Quidditch matches he won and congratulate him in this felicitous way, but no other girl is like her.

No other girl Oliver has kissed before pulled him by his shirt like y/N in a desperate way as if they are gonna disappear when they leave each other. No girl’s mouth was as sweet in taste like y/N’s, no other girl could have such a perfect perfume in the middle of the rain. But y/N has. Oliver has no idea why or how, but she has.

It’s not the perfect kiss, but it feels so perfect!

And then, she pulls away. One step at the time, she walks out of their little comfort zone. For the first time, Oliver noticed, he touched her, and she’s not blushing. It makes him scared for a minute, but it suddenly goes away when he sees her gasping for words because he doesn’t want her to say something.

All those days working together most of the time, exchanging notes in the middle of classes, Oliver noticed that neither of them is good with words, so he doesn’t let her speak. It can ruin the moment. Instead, he kisses her again, softer this time. Slower. He enjoys it, remembers the way their tongs dance, the way her hand feels in his hair.

But, again, it doesn’t last much. Y/N pulls away and presses her left hand in his chest, stopping him where he is. This is it, he thinks, she’s gonna say she hated it.

But she slowly leans down, grabs what Oliver believes is her broom, and she walks away, in rushed steps, running from the Quidditch field. Running from him.

Oliver was scared she would ruin the moment by saying something, but while he gathered his Quidditch supplies scattered in the wet ground, the only thing that comes to his mind is that he wishes she had said something. Anything. And that thought hunts him.

***

Y/N waked up in time for breakfast which meant she lost the morning training. But then, last training went until 3 a.m. Oliver couldn’t possibly want her in the Training Grounds at 5 a.m.

Besides, they shared the most passionate kiss ever, so y/N was kinda sure there was no training planned for that morning.

She walked in the Hall, looking for Angelina Johnson. She never talked to that girl, but y/N never had many lady friends. When she sees her target, she grabs the girl by her arm and takes her to a corner. Angelina doesn’t even protest — she figures Oliver has done something.

She imagined the wrong thing, though.

“You want me to tell him you give up?” Angelina was smiling when she asked y/N that, causing the girl to wonder if Angelina knows about the kiss and is somehow interested in Oliver.

“Give up on...?”

“Training. Oli probably made you wake up at 2 in the morning, am I right?” Angelina kept the smile on.

Y/N tilted her head, confused. They clearly weren’t on the same page.

“In his defence, he hasn’t recovered from that training session either. Hasn’t woke up yet. Said to Fred and George to wake him only five minutes before class,” Angelina found it all very funny. Like all the times Oliver made she wake up early to QUidditch were finally getting back at the boy.

The new information held y/N back. Did he spend his dawn thinking about her? About their kiss?

“I didn’t grab you because of Quidditch. I’m still trying out,” y/N decided to clarify.

“Oh,” Angelina smile died.

“Yeah, what I want with you is that, well, you’re the only one I see Oliver talk to, even more than the twins,” y/N started, not sure of how to finish. She takes a look at her hand before continuing. “Yesterday, he kissed me. I kissed him. I don’t know who started it — we kissed, that’s it,” she managed to say, and she watched Angelina expression as it changed back to a smile, this time way brighter.

“I knew he liked you! I knew it! It had to be the reason why...” Angelina let her phrase die, she didn’t want to offend you based n your Quidditch skills. “But oh my! What now? Are you two together?”

Y/N pressed her lips together, making an embarrassing face. “Well, about that. I ran. We kissed, and I ran away,” y/N told, expecting Angelina to shout at her, but no scream came. “I was super, duper stupid, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m not good with words, you see.”

“And that git isn’t either. What a pair,” Angelina chuckled with herself, lost in thoughts. “What are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” y/N answered, and she stared at Angelina with big puppy eyes, trying to make the girl understand she wanted her suggestion.

“No way! I’m not gonna give an opinion. He’s my friend, but you two should work this on you own,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Anyway, thanks for telling me about the kiss. That’s fresh gossip.”

“Oh, no, please don’t tell anyone,” y/N asked, and out of pity, Angelina agreed. But she didn’t say anything more either and walked away when she noticed y/N had nothing more to tell.

The poor girl was left alone at the end of the Gryffindor table, and being alone with her thoughts was all y/N did not want.

***

That day, no training was scheduled. Y/N did cross paths and classes with Oliver Wood, but no notes were tossed at her, so she decided to ignore him just the same.

Oliver was sure y/N hated the kiss, and that was why she ran away, or, at least, she didn’t want to be kissed.

Y/N was sure Oliver hated her guts for abusing of his kindness of teaching her Quidditch. So she had a plan. She wrote a letter to her dad, instead of her mom as she previously planned. And she asked for a new Firebolt. The latest he could get her.

Here’s the thing about her parents: they are divorced, and she lived with her mom. Her dad is practically never around, but when he comes up with new brooms, he gifts y/N with it. Those were the only times her dad would stop by because his whole life was about Quidditch supplies.

That’s where y/N’s dream of being in the Gryffindor team was born — she wanted her dad to cheer for his daughter, at least about the only thing he liked and talked about. But she never got in the team, and he never saw her playing.

She reunited all her courage to write a letter to the heir of the Ellerby and Spudmore, but it was the only thing she could think would be enough to Oliver apologize her. And she prayed it would work.

He didn’t write back so the next day in breakfast when her owl delivered no letters, she freaked out. He wasn’t going to reply when she most needed it, of course. So typical.

She was thinking terrible things about her father when the whole Gryffindor table started gasping at two owls who flew in with a big package in their beak. When they were close enough, y/N was sure the package was a broomstick. And when they dropped it in front of Oliver Wood (sitting at the other end of the table; they were sitting very far away from each other that day) she almost screamed to the whole Hall listen.

She watched as he unwrapped the papers, and the girl sitting next to her asked if she was okay because she seemed more excited than the boy who was presented.

“I’m a huge fan of brooms, that’s it,” y/N lied, holding in her smile as she got up and left the place, scared that her father could have told the boy she was his daughter.

Y/N kept it a secret of everyone, and it was easier when she had her mom’s last name instead of her father’s.

In the letter to her father, she told him that Oliver Wood was a friend of hers that was an excellent keeper, but his broom was broken, and Gryffindor was going to lose the next match because of it. Yeah, she was very dramatic in the letter, but if she weren’t, perhaps her father wouldn‘t have given the boy the broom.

And she couldn’t tell the old man she kissed the boy and ran away.

“Hey, y/N, wait up!” a voice called her, and even before she turned, she knew to who it belonged.

Oliver stared at her, one hand he held the Firebolt, in the other, a piece of parchment y/N was sure was a letter from her father.

“I think I have to thank you for the broom,” he said, stepping closer to her.

Thankfully they were outside of the Great Hall, so there wasn’t a crowd watching their every move.

“Although, there was no need for it,” he added, shyly. He was clearly happy about getting a new broom, but he had to play the selfless.

“You sure deserved it, for training me and all. I mean, you managed to turn a nobody into an okay player of Quidditch. That’s big, especially because nobody forced you into it,” she said, trying hard to not let her cheeks pink up.

“And you never told me you were the daughter of Randolph Spudmore!” he said, smiling.

However, y/N’s smile died. She got suddenly scared, afraid. He wouldn’t look at her the same way now, and he was probably going to admit her in the team because there was a chance they’d get free brooms. Gosh, she had already given him a free broom. And now she wondered: why? For kissing her, probably out of pity, and never mentioning it again?

“Yeah, well, I don’t talk to him much,” she managed to say, trying to turn the tables, but it was already too late. He was already staring at her like the air of the Ellerby and Spudmore. There were sparks in his eyes when he looked at her now.

They stayed in silence for a moment, neither wanting to step away, but they knew they would need to.

“So, huh, will I see you in training tonight?” Oliver asked, with hope in his eyes.

“Tell me when and I’ll be there,” she said before stepping away with a fake smile and then, as soon as she was sure he couldn’t see her anymore, she ran back to her dorm.

***

Y/N came to all the training sessions Oliver scheduled, and she trained as hard as ever, never even complaining.

Never even mentioning the kiss either, but Oliver didn’t want to think about that. It was his fault after all — he pushed her to do something she didn‘t want to. He needed to be thankful y/N was able to surpass it and still play friends with him instead of casting jinxes against him and never looking at him again.

So he acted professional, he was the perfect couch when y/N was around. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done — especially when he had to touch her to teach a new move — but it better to have her around as friends than to not have her at all.

And once y/N got in the team (and Oliver was sure that even Angelina would agree to admit y/N), the two would be teammates and maybe, who knew, one day he could kiss her again. After a match or something. The boy could dream.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” he said before freeing her, trying to make small talk.

“I guess. Can’t be better than I am now,” y/N smiled, and for a moment, Oliver forgot how to breathe.

“Well, then good luck. See you in the field tomorrow,” he smiled too, trying to make sure y/N wouldn’t notice his heartbeat that was accelerating.

And then she walked away before he could try and say anything else.

He wanted to rush towards her, grab her by the waist and kiss her again. But he knew he shouldn’t, and that was killing him, even more than losing a Quidditch match.

***

Y/N sat in the same spot in the stand she had been sitting for all those years she tried out. But something was different.

For instance, she now had this huge, ridiculous and platonic crush on the team captain.

She was also way better in Quidditch now than she was on the other times she tried out.

And, to make matters nervously worse, her father was there.

Yes, mister Randolph Spudmore was sitting next to his teenage daughter y/N y/L/N in the stands of the Quidditch field of Hogwarts. All eyes were on them, but somehow that was the last of y/N’s concerns.

After the letter she wrote thanking her father for he broom, he kept writing her back. He showed interest in her academic life. Asked about grades. Asked if Dumbledore was still a crazy chap.

He didn’t mention Quidditch in a whole letter of two pages — that was definitely a record!

He did ask about the boy he gave the broom to, and he asked again in person when he arrived this morning.

She decided to go with the truth. Her father wasn’t stupid, he would have noticed the way y/N was going to look at Oliver once they were in the same place.

“Tell me about the boy,” the father request. “I gotta know who’s friends with my daughter after all.”

“Well, honestly, he’s much like you. All he talks about is Quidditch. I bet he knows the name of every player in all the professional teams. And I bet he framed your letter.”

Her father burst into laughter, making all the students stare at him once again.

“But he’s such a good player, dad, like better than the professionals, you know? Looking at him, you know he was born for the sport,” she added.

Her father stared at the boy who was testing another student at that moment, and he was sure his daughter was right. But he knew there was more to the boy. Yes, when he saw Randolph in the stands, and he freaked. But the reason he kept looking in their direction in the middle of the trials — and y/N’s father was sure of it — wasn’t just because of the broom maker.

It was because he was captured by Randolph’s little girl.

“And he likes you,” Randolph said, catching his daughter by surprise.

“What? Oh no. I mean, we kissed, I told you that. But we’re over that. It was probably hormones,” y/N shrugged.

“Probably,” her father pretended to agree.

“He never mentioned it again, dad, so I know what I’m saying.”

“Hey, I didn’t disagree,” her father smiled, knowing his daughter had spilt the beans without him asking. “Look, honey,” he laughed his excitement off before continuing, “if you say he’s so much like me, have you thought about the possibility that he doesn’t know what to say? How long it took me to reach out to you?”

Y/N stayed quiet, not sure of what her father wanted.

“He speaks Quidditch. You told me that yourself. So maybe, he doesn’t know how to talk to you,” her father continued.

“Well, dad, maybe I don’t know how to talk to him either,” y/N protested. She didn’t want to be the one reach out.

“Then don’t,” he smiled. “But not in front of me, okay?” he laughed out loud again, so entertained with the teen drama, he wondered why it took him so long to reach out.

“y/N y/L/N, you’re next,” shouted Angelina from up her broom.

Her father wished her good luck, and she disappeared in the air. Angelina flew to y/N and explained what she needed to perform to be tested. It was simple really: score once in the five minutes limit.

Only problem: Oliver Wood was the keeper.

She sighed, almost laughing at how destiny was low. But y/N and Oliver weren’t enemies, they were friends. Well, both were hiding their feelings for each other, but still, friends.

Many tries. She got the Quaffle all the times the other chasers tossed it to her, but Oliver always managed to stop it before it scored.

“One minute left,” Angelina informed, before starting all over again with the run to catch the Quaffle.

And then, Alicia tossed it to y/N, Fred sent a Bludger in her direction — y/N ducked, lowering just a bit her broom and she scored. She actually scored!

The only person in the stands shouting was her father, but it seemed as everybody was celebrating.

She got to the ground, unable to stay in her broom any longer. Yeah, she scored — it didn’t mean she was in. Other students had scored too. But it didn’t matter — she had never scored before.

Fred and George flew around her, making faces showing how impressed they were. Angelina got out of her broom just to congratulate her.

Nobody believed that the girl in the corner had scored finally, after so many years and tryouts.

She wasn’t looking in the direction of the goal arcs, so she didn’t see when Oliver got down from his new Firebolt and started walking towards her.

“Y/N,” he had only called for her, but it was enough for her to hurry up and wrap her arms around his torso, swallowing him in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered over and over in Oliver’s ear. “I don’t care if your team doesn’t choose me. I am happy to just know that I am capable of it.”

Oliver didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged her even tighter and tighter.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you,” she said, slowly letting go of him.

“Of course you would,” he disagreed, smiling as he delighted in the sight of her beautiful reddish face. Oh, how he missed seeing her cheeks flush!

The silence settled again, that awful moment when they both didn’t know what to say, but wanted to say so much ...

“You know what? I need to score a point again,” she said, grabbing his wrist before taking a step closer.

“Score again? What do you mean by that?”

“I already beat the keeper. Now I need to win him,” she smiled, finally taking their space and kissing him in that perfectly imperfect way that only the two could masterfully reproduce.

She had a lot of things to still figure out. She needed to keep in touch with her father, for instance. She needed to have a serious conversation with the keeper she was kissing at the moment about what they were, and y/N needed to find out if she got in the team or not.

But with Oliver Wood curled up in her arms, kissing her and teasing her with bites on her lower lip and an audience cheering them on, none of those things mattered. She knew he was a keeper and she was never letting him go.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Only the Good Die Young (Part 5)

Summary: You were torn. Bucky had let you down, but maybe you were expecting too much of him.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout, harmful relationship with parents, implied domestic violence

Author's Note: Back on the wagon with ‘You May Be Right’. I’m sure everyone else is definitely as invested in this whole Billy Joel thing as I am...

---

Bucky’s grip on your hands tightened to the point of being slightly painful. You could almost hear the cogs whirring in his head as he tried to figure out how he could make everything better.

‘You know I’d never hurt you on purpose, right?’ You took a deep breath and nodded in response, eyes still fixed on the ground. ‘I didn’t even think, I can’t believe I did that to you.’

‘You know, you really don’t owe me anything Buck. Just please don’t let me rely on you if you can’t handle it.’

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, hands still tangled together. You hesitantly flicked your gaze up to his face, only to see him looking completely dejected, staring at his thumb as it brushed gently over your fingers. Seeing him like that hurt a lot, but you were determined not to let your heart win out over your head again.

He broke the silence with a timid half-whisper. ‘So what d’you wanna do?’

‘I don’t know, I need time to think.’ You paused and gave a despairing laugh. ‘God I’m so fucked, I told my parents I was going out to talk to the pastor.’

‘Don’t go back there. Please don’t.’ The sudden desperation in his voice shocked you a little, he was digging his thumbs into the tops of your hands. ‘You can still stay with me. I’ll give you space, whatever you need. I’ll sleep on the couch or even on the fuckin’ stairs. Just don’t go back.’

You hesitated for a second, gently tugging your hands away, before agreeing. He was right, you knew he was. Nothing Bucky could ever do would compare to a childhood of isolation and religious brainwashing.

As long as you had a choice, you’d never go back to them again- even if this was the only alternative.

---

By the time you reached his flat, you’d readied for a pretty tense evening together. The walk back had been awkward enough.

Glancing around the place, you could see that your hastily gathered clothes from the initial house escape were still piled up in his bedroom, but it looked as though he’d washed and folded them all whilst you’d been gone. The rest of the place looked a little better too, far tidier than when you last saw it. Christ, had he hoovered?

He offered you a beer, which you eagerly accepted, and suggested that the two of you try to unwind in front of a couple movies. You were exhausted and had planned to go straight to sleep, but switching off in front of a film sounded good too. Besides, with how you were feeling, you could probably use the company. Even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

It turned out to be surprisingly nice, just sitting silently in each other's presence, eyes fixed on the screen. He was true to his word, giving you space by sticking to the armchair while you curled up on the sofa. You still felt relaxed around him despite the slight awkwardness, his flat was safe and comfortable and you were so grateful that he was letting you stay.

Bucky finally piped up during the credits.

‘I don’t think I made a very good first impression with your mom.’ He caught you off guard, causing you to involuntarily chuckle. ‘I hope she wasn’t too pissed.’

‘I think pissed is just her default emotion these days. They were both very fucking smug when I went back though, so thanks for that.’ You raised an accusatory eyebrow at him.

He grimaced slightly. From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was inwardly weighing up whether or not to vocalise his next thought.

‘My bad. But, y’know...’ This should be good. ‘Now I’m even more determined never to do it again, cause I really don’t want to give them the satisfaction.’

You rolled your eyes and sighed, turning back to face the TV. ‘Bit late for that one Buck.’

He flicked through a couple films but you decided it was probably best to call it a night there. Despite insisting that you take the sofa, a couple minutes later you found yourself tucked into Bucky’s bed on your own, trying to fall into anything resembling sleep.

---

The next morning, as you stirred awake, the first thing you noticed was the smell of Bucky on the sheets. The faint mix of aftershave, motor oil and cigarettes made you smile to yourself before you remembered why you were there, and why he wasn’t.

Yanking the sheet up over your head, you tried forcing yourself back to sleep, but noise from the front room made it impossible. It sounded like a mumbling woman’s voice. Ugh, Bucky must’ve had the TV on loud.

You gave up after a minute or so. 

Your senses were still adjusting to being awake as you sat up and swung your legs out of bed, rubbing your eyes. You had half a mind to bang on the wall in protest at the noise, but there was no chance of you going back to sleep now. Crossing the room to where your clothes were piled up, you concentrated on the sound more and started to hear Bucky’s voice interjecting.

So, either he’d completely lost it and started chatting back to news anchors, or there was someone else here.

You quickly got dressed and pressed your ear to the door, listening to the faint mumbling, trying to make out any of the words. From their tones it sounded like she was upset and he was comforting her, but you couldn’t hear what about.  

Christ, if this was one of his crazy ex-girlfriends or something that’d be the final straw. There wasn’t much more of this you could take.

You timidly opened the door and stepped through, catching Bucky’s eye and prompting him to stand from the sofa. He walked over to you, rubbing the shoulder of his guest tenderly as he passed her. You could only see the back of her head.

‘Hey, you sleep alright?’

‘Uh fine, yeah. What’s going on?’ Your eyes flicked between him and the visitor.

He gestured for the two of you to step back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. ‘It’s my mom. She said dad disappeared a couple days ago and turned back up at the house this morning, looking like shit, ready to take it out on her.’

‘Cause of-’

‘Cause of me, yeah.’ You could see he was pissed, harshly rubbing the back of his head. ‘He took the fight to someone who couldn’t fight back, piece of shit.’ He kicked the wall as he said it, leaving a pretty sizable hole in the plaster.

You grabbed his shoulders and moved yourself into his eyeline, attempting to calm him down. ‘Hey, she’s here now, it’s okay.’

‘Look, I’m really sorry to ask, but could you sit with her for a while? I don’t have a first aid kit or anything here. The store is just a few minutes away if I run, she-’

‘Go. It’s alright.’

As you walked back through, his mother’s head turned in your direction. You couldn’t hide your shock, her face was mottled with bruises and shallow gashes. She looked like she’d been through hell.

You felt an immense wave of guilt when you realised how surprised you were that, underneath it all, she just looked like a nice, regular lady. All Bucky had told you about her was that they only spoke when she needed money. Because of that, you’d sort of assumed that she was an alcoholic or a junkie. Maybe that was unfair of you.

She gave you a wide smile and glanced over to Buck as you sat by her. ‘Is this your girlfriend?’

‘She’s just a friend, ma. She’s gonna sit with you while I run out for a few minutes.’ He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and shot you a smile before jogging out the door.

‘I’ve never met one of James’ girlfriends before.’

‘Oh, we’re not really- I’m just-’

She placed a hand on your knee. ‘I’m so glad he’s finally settling down.’

You opened your mouth to speak, but decided it was easier to just nod. If it made her happy then you were willing to go along with it. It was the least you could do.

‘You know, he’s the only good thing I’ve ever done.’ Her words took you back a bit, you were shocked at her frankness. ‘He’s been through so much, thank you for giving him a chance.’

Ah, shit. There goes another wave of guilt. You tried to convince yourself that you just felt bad for misleading her, giving her false hope, but you knew that wasn’t really the case. Cause she was right, he’d been through more than you could ever imagine, and you’d bailed on him the first chance you got.

‘Yeah, he’s a good guy.’ You really meant that.

The two of you chatted for a little while. She was so lovely, it made you wonder how on earth her relationship with Bucky could’ve broken down. She asked how the two of you met and all that but, when the conversation got round to it, she was pretty shocked to learn who your parents were. Apparently she remembered your mother writing to all the other parents in your grade about her disgust at the inclusion of evolution on the syllabus. Sounded about right.

The downstairs door clicked open, and as Bucky came up the stairs you could hear him talking to someone on the phone. He pushed it back into his pocket as he came into the room.

‘That was the cops, they’ve got dad.’

After patching her up, Bucky said he’d give his mother a ride home. You stood up as she passed you, slightly surprised when she pulled you into a tight hug and whispered in your ear.

‘Please look after him better than I did.’

---

You waited in the kitchen for Bucky, so many questions reeling through your mind. That boy was going to spill his secrets, you were determined to get to the bottom of his increasingly complex past. It wasn’t long before he got back.

‘Thanks for that.’ He moved towards you from the front door. ‘Although, she does seem to be under the impression that we’re all happy families over here.’

‘Yeah, sorry, it was just easier if I went along with it. It also seemed to cheer her up a little.’ He gave you a smug smile, leaning against the counter in front of you. ‘Buck, do you mind if I asked what happened between the two of you? You said you barely speak, but your relationship seems pretty good.’

‘It is. I just… choose to stay away.’ Christ he was fucking cryptic, it was like trying to crack the enigma code.

‘Oh right. Just, from what you said, I thought maybe it was drugs or something.’

‘Nah. I mean she drinks like a fish, but she’s not nearly as bad as my dad.’ He sighed, seeing you raise your eyebrows at him, prompting him to continue. ‘She just won’t leave him, no matter what he does. I’ve tried everything.’

You nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I see.’

‘I love her and I help her out when I can, but it’s too hard to just stand by and watch how he treats her. I gotta keep a distance or I get sucked back in.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before? It’s good to talk about these things.’

‘You don’t need all my shit piled on top of yours.’ He dropped his keys on the counter and went to walk away, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

‘She’s really proud of you Buck.’

A beaming smile spread across his face. He reached out and took your hands in his, pulling you towards him, looking pleasantly surprised at your lack of resistance. 

He was definitely still in the doghouse, but you were ready to cut him a little slack.

‘I still can’t believe you got arrested.’ 

A little, not a lot.

He chuckled and cautiously wandered his hands up to your waist, ready to be swatted away at any moment. ‘You ever gonna let that go?’

‘Nope.’

‘I made it home alive.’ He slid his hands around your back and pulled you closer to his chest. ‘Maybe I’m crazy, but you might enjoy some madness for a while.’

‘You may be right.’ You smiled into his chest. 'But if you ever pull that shit and make me crawl back to my parents again I'll chop your balls off.'

'That’s fair.'

---

Part Six

---

@shawnie--jo @brilliantbellesoares @livingoffsavvyillusions @noiralei @bebeyeni @kingkassam @newyorkgoddess @sir-lili @im-squished

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist

---

[jingabitch]

Armed to the Fangs ch.9

SUMMARY: you grew up in the hunter’s guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. while making the rounds one night, you encounter taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

PAIRING: eventual ot7 x reader

WARNINGS: some description of violence, angst, pining, maybe eventual smut but not for a looooong time, slow burn (really the slowest of burns), there is violence in this chapter, tense confrontation

RATING: T

WORD COUNT: 4k

A/N: yay action! thank you @pasteljeon and @jminacious​ for looking over this for me.

series index

Jungkook was the one who noticed it first.

His appetite started waning, and truth be told he hadn’t noticed it much at first. As the youngest of his brothers, he’d always had the greatest appetite of his brothers, always hungry. They’d promised that as he grew older, this would fade and he would no longer be so controlled by his bloodlust, but it hadn’t shown any promise so far. When he noticed that he was snacking less throughout the day, he chalked it up to that at first. Blood didn’t smell or taste as good anymore, but that was normal, right?

Besides, he had so much more to occupy his time now that you were around. He’d read that hunger was tied to boredom, and while life around the manor had been kind of mundane before, there was never a dull moment these days. Between spending time with you and your cat or listening to the stories of his brothers doing the same, there was so much more life in the manor now.

Really, it was no wonder that there was less time in his day (night?) for him to constantly be going down to the fridge now. And just like that, he managed to convince himself that a vampire losing his appetite for blood wasn’t really a problem.

Still, even the eternally optimistic and sunny baby boy of the manor could not ignore the fact that when the new delivery of blood arrived and he went to put them in the fridge, there wasn’t any space because it was still packed with the blood bags from last month.

“That’s weird,” he muttered to himself as he perused the contents of the fridge. He knew he hadn’t been drinking as much, but the others hadn’t said they were limiting their consumption either. And yet, based on how many packs were piled on top of each other, it looked like hardly any of them had been taking any at all.

It wasn’t the only strange thing that was happening around here, he thought as he remembered his strange visit with Hoseok a couple of days ago. He’d kept quiet about it out of respect to his hyung, recalling how desperately the older vampire had begged him to keep it a secret. Against his better judgement, he had, though in the back of his mind he still worried.

He was still standing in front of the fridge, frowning at the neat piles of blood bags, when you ran down the stairs. He truly didn’t know how you’d been a hunter when you were so goddamn loud all the time. It sounded like you were stomping through the hallways every day.

“Y/n,” he greeted as you darted past him.

“Oh, hey!” You paused to greet him. You were dressed in the same black jacket and trousers you’d been in when Taehyung first brought you to the manor, with your gun strapped to your hip and – he was sure – knives in your boots. Thankfully, as you’d eased up around them, you stopped carrying around the machine gun on your back, but you still felt vulnerable and naked being unarmed. Old habits die hard, after all.

“Where are you rushing to?” he asked, observing your jittery and anxious demeanor. Your eyes were constantly flicking towards the hallway that led to the front door and you couldn’t stop shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“Oh, Jennie-unnie said she was going to come visit today, so…” You trailed off.

“Right, okay.” He smiled at you to hide his unease. One hunter in their midst had been nerve-wracking enough at first, and you were his mate. He knew you were best friends with Jennie, though, so he tried to keep an open mind about her.

You didn’t notice his hesitance, so excited about finally seeing Jennie again. Since you’d been living at the manor, you hadn’t been able to meet any of your old hunter friends, and as much as you were starting to enjoy living here, you did miss them. Jennie had just texted you to let you know that she was almost here, so you were on your way to greet her.

---------------------------

Jennie stood in front of the manor, staring up at the massive, imposing building. Her fingers were loosely curled around the barrel of her shotgun as she remembered the task from the Head.

“You have to get rid of her,” he said impassively.

Jennie’s eyes widened. This wasn’t what she’d expected. “But sir,” she started to protest. “I’m sure there are other options we can explore first – recalling her, training her again…” Her eyes searched Master Bang’s expression for any sign of sadness or regret at having to issue such an order for you, the hunter he had practically raised.

“You know there is no other option for a vampire sympathizer,” he cut her off.

“Sir, please,” she begged, tears falling down her face. She didn’t want to have to do this. You’d just been misled by the vampires you were living with, that was all. This was an unprecedented situation, wasn’t it? Did he have to be so cruel?

“You have your orders.” His tone was firm and brooked no opposition. She’d been a hunter long enough to know what that meant.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered in defeat, before turning to leave. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she shut the door behind her.

One would think, probably, that she would be more of a mess. Crying, maybe, from the stress of having such a mission placed upon her. But Jennie was, first and foremost, a hunter, and she would carry out her orders no matter how much she didn’t want to. Her eyes were dry and focused, her hands steady. The last thing she could do for you was to make it a clean shot, so you felt no pain.

Still, she swore, she would avenge you. After carrying out your execution, she would make it her life’s mission to hunt down and kill all the bloodsuckers who’d made you like this. Who’d pretended to be civilized and kind, intentionally misleading you and tempting you from the path of austerity that hunters committed to. How dare they, she thought, her fingers tightening around the handle of her gun. When she finally got her hands on them, it wouldn’t be a clean, pretty shot like she was going to give you. She was going to make them suffer for what they’d done to you.

“Unnie!” you called out, opening one side of the double doors. You waved at her cheerily as you skipped down the steps to the driveway where she was standing.

“L/n Y/n,” she said emotionlessly, raising her gun to your face. You stopped short at the unexpected sight.

“Unnie, what’s going on?” you asked, eyes darting to her weapon as you raised your hands in the air. Your training kicked in automatically - don’t say or do anything that might startle the person holding a weapon at you, of course, and always follow every instruction they give you. Still, as composed as you looked on the outside, you were a mess inside. Thankfully Jennie wasn’t a vampire, because she would have been able to hear your heart rate ratcheting up. Hell, you could hear it pounding away in your ears.

“Drop your gun on the floor,” she instructed, her eyes flicking down your body. She knew you definitely had them on you. The months you’d spent here couldn’t break the habits of a lifetime.

“Okay,” you said slowly, keeping your left hand in the air as you slowly reached down with your right, shifting the lapel of your jacket aside so she could see the holster strapped to your hip. “I’m going to take my gun out, okay?” When she nodded, you took the gun out and bent down to put it on the ground.

Meanwhile, Jungkook heard the conversation from the kitchen and ran out. You’d never closed the door, and he was standing behind you, in the door frame. “Jungkook,” you cautioned, hearing his footsteps, “You should go back in.”

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“Jungkook, this is hunter business. You need to go inside.” You didn’t know why you were trying to protect Jungkook when Jennie had never even faltered in her aim, clearly uncaring that he was there. He might be a vampire, but to you he seemed so young and innocent, and you didn’t want him to have you watch you get your brains blown out.

“Y/n, come back in!” His raised voice drew the attention of his brothers, who all dropped what they were doing to come see what was going on.

Hoseok, still in his room, pulled back the drawn curtains slightly to check out the commotion. He gasped when he saw the hunter standing in the driveway, her gun pointed straight at you.

“Unnie,” you ignored Jungkook to address Jennie, “why are you doing this?” Your voice didn’t tremble, even though you were staring down the barrel of her gun. Jennie wasn’t crazy, you knew, and she had to have a good reason for showing up here all of a sudden to murder you.

“Master Bang…” In the face of your calmness, her voice unexpectedly trembled. She swallowed hard, then tried again. “You’ve changed, Y/n. You’re sympathizing with vampires now, and there’s no place for that in our organization, you know that.”

“Jennie-unnie…” you pleaded. “Don’t do this, please.”

“I have to,” she whispered, the sound of her voice barely carrying in the wind. “Goodbye, Y/n.”

In the second before she pulled the trigger, there was a giant crash from upstairs and glass and plaster rained down on them. Jennie, who was standing exposed, screamed and threw her hands up over her head to protect her face, and without looking up to see what had caused the commotion, you dropped to the ground and rolled, picking up your gun as you went.

When you looked back up, in a different position now, you saw Jennie lowering her arms – and, nearby, Hoseok, who’d apparently flung himself out the window and was lying on the gravel now, groaning in pain. “Shit!” he hissed. His body, which was already weak from starvation, had not been in any position for what he’d just put it through.

Your eyes flicked towards him, ascertaining that he was alive, before returning to Jennie. You needed to help Hoseok, but before that, you really needed to get rid of your friend – former friend? – and fellow hunter.

“Unnie, you need to leave,” you said firmly, pointing the gun at her.

“No,” she insisted, aiming at you again.

You flicked the safety off with your thumb. It was a bluff, of course – you could never actually shoot her – but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m going to count to ten, and if you’re not back in your car by the time I’m done, I’m going to start shooting.”

Jennie’s lips flattened into a line, but she knew that you were a crack shot. You’d started learning how to shoot a gun when you were six, after all. As good as her aim was, yours was better. She had no chance against you.

“Ten…” You started counting. Jennie started backing away, though she held her gun up to you the entire time.

“Nine… eight…” She rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. It was only when she was in that the gun aimed at you was put away, although you didn’t lower your weapon as the car started.

“Seven… six…” You continued counting until she drove away, then hastily stuffed your gun back in its holster. As you ran over to the man who was still lying prone, you heard the six other vampires in the house burst through the door to get to their fallen brother.

You reached first and fell to your knees next to him. “Hey… you okay?” you asked, touching his face gently. To your shock, he jerked away from you with more force than you would have thought him capable of, given how weak and in pain he looked earlier.

“Get away from me,” he snarled.

“Hey, I just want to help, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” you rushed to soothe him, thinking that he was reacting to a hunter coming close. He was the one you’d interacted with the least, after all, so it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to think that he didn’t trust you because you were – had been? – a hunter.

Instead of being comforted by your words, however, he just bared his fangs at you again. By this point, the others had reached you, and Jungkook, who recognized the expression on Hoseok’s face as ravenous hunger, quickly got between the two of you.

“Wha—hey!” you protested as you were shoved aside. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Y/n,” Jimin said apologetically as Namjoon knelt on the ground next to Hoseok. You couldn’t hear what they were saying or see what was going on through their legs.

“Yeah, he’s in pretty bad shape and it’s dangerous for you to be around him,” Taehyung added. You stood up and brushed the dirt off your clothes. What was he talking about? You tried to peer over their shoulders at Hoseok, who was now being lifted by Jungkook and Jin, but they closed ranks around him so that you couldn’t see him.

“We’ll just put him back in his room, okay? Why don’t you go get some rest, you look pretty shaken up.” Jimin came close to try and hug you, then seemed to hesitate at the last moment, his arms awkwardly stretched out. He didn’t actually know how you would react to a hug, since all of them had made sure to keep a respectful distance from you.

To extricate you both from the uncomfortable position, you took a step back and his hands fell to his sides. “Right, well…” you said, looking away. “I’ll see you later, then. Feel better soon, Hoseok-ssi.” Then you turned and walked away, heading back to your room.

Yoongi sighed as they watched you leave. “She’s going to have a hard time later,” Yoongi predicted, and the others nodded, a few murmuring in assent. They would need to see if she was all right, but later. First, their brother demanded their attention.

---------------------------

It felt like your body and your mind were on autopilot as you walked back to your room, retracing the path you’d taken earlier this evening, when you’d been so excited to see Jennie. So much had changed in the few minutes that she’d been here, and you could hardly process it.

The room you returned to seemed different, somehow, even though you knew it was objectively the same. Injeolmi came to greet you, chattering softly as he wove around your ankles, and you bent down to pick him up, rubbing your face in his fur for comfort. This room, once your prison and workplace, was now the only place you had to call your own. For now, anyway – you didn’t know if the boys would even want you to remain here now that you weren’t playing a diplomatic role. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that you were no longer a part of the Guild, not after a hunter had been dispatched to kill you.

Almost robotically, you walked over to the drawer where you kept your weapons, putting your gun away and hanging up your holster. You toed off your boots, keeping the knives you kept in them, then fell onto your bed face-down with a groan. Injeolmi hopped onto the covers next to you, looking concerned as he sniffed at your hair.

Even though you wanted to, you couldn’t cry, the tears refusing to come. Instead, you just lay there, not even attempting to process your emotions. What was there to think about? You’d been cast out of the Guild, the only home you’d ever known. Worse, you’d been sentenced to death. Even if Jennie hadn’t succeeded in carrying out her orders, it was only a matter of time before other hunters showed up to finish what she’d started. Your days were numbered.

Thankfully, your whole body was still numb from the shock, and every emotion was dulled. While adrenaline had allowed you to act quickly, picking up your gun when you saw the opportunity, now that it was fading, so, it felt, were you.

Closing your eyes, you ignored the plaintive meows of your cat as you tried to block the world out. As the energy drained from your body, all that was left was an overwhelming exhaustion that you allowed to steal your consciousness.

---------------------------

“Hobi, what’s going on with you?” Yoongi fussed over his brother. Since there was now a giant hole in the window in his own bedroom, Hoseok had been brought to Yoongi’s, the older vampire gladly giving up his bed for his brother. This was the first time that most of them had seen him in weeks, and they were shocked by how weak and sickly he looked – even accounting for the fact that he’d thrown himself out a window.

“Nothing,” Hoseok groaned, even though they could all clearly see that it was a lie. His colour was off, and his jawline and cheekbones were more sharply defined than before. He curled up in bed, clearly still in pain, which meant his healing abilities had been affected too.

Namjoon sat down on the bed next to him, patting his face with some concern. Vampires were made of hardy stuff, and there were few things that could cause something like this. “How long has this been going on?” he asked.

“Couple weeks,” Hoseok gritted out, turning his face away from his brothers. He just wanted to go to sleep, and they kept bothering him.

Namjoon’s gasp made him turn his head back to his brother, and the shocked expression on his face made him kick himself inside. Of course Namjoon would be able to put two and two together.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Namjoon asked. Resigned, Hoseok nodded slightly.

“Hobi…”

“Stop,” he groaned. “I can’t deal with this all over again.”

“Well, it doesn’t appear like you have a choice, does it?” Jin cut in. “Or did you just happen to fall out of your window just in time to save her?”

“Hyung…”

Seeing his obvious pain and misery, Jin relented. “Fine, you should get some rest. But we’re talking about this later.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Despite his current state, Hoseok never missed a chance to mouth off to Jin.

“All right, everybody clear out,” Jin ordered. As all of them filed out, he turned back to take one last look at his brother, who’d turned onto his side and pressed his face into the pillow.

---------------------------

There was a minor scuffle among the remaining boys over who would get to see how you were doing – one that Yoongi, surprisingly, won. He claimed that he was bored because he’d had to give up his room to Hoseok while the window in the latter’s room was fixed, but his brothers knew better than that.

As he walked down the hallway to your room, Yoongi straightened his clothes. He really should remember not to get into physical altercations with his brothers, especially that muscle pig Jungkook, he thought to himself. Not that the younger really had a chance against him, but it was usually annoying.

Standing outside the door to your rooms, Yoongi hesitated before knocking. He remembered the shell-shocked expression on your face earlier and knew that you’d be dealing with some pretty intense shit right now. You might not want any company, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to let you know that you weren’t alone.

With that in mind, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, then waited. There was no response, and he tried again. When he heard only silence through the door, he grew concerned.

His hand hovered over the doorknob as he debated over whether or not to enter without permission. He didn’t want to interrupt you or invade your privacy, but at the same time, he was worried – you hadn’t even spoken to tell him to go away. In the end, his curiosity about what you were up to won out over his prudence, and he opened the door, promising himself that he would only check to see if you were safe before leaving if you wanted him to.

It was cool and dark in your rooms, and Yoongi didn’t see you at first. “Y/n?” he called quietly. You didn’t respond, but Injeolmi woke up and leapt off the bed, padding quietly over to Yoongi.

“Hello,” he greeted the cat. He wasn’t as fond of Injeolmi as Jimin was, but even he had to admit that Injeolmi was an exceptionally good-looking and well-behaved feline, a fine companion for their mate. Injeolmi blinked at him, then went into his litter box.

“That’s nice,” he said with a slight grimace before continuing into the bedroom. There he found you, still dressed and wearing your socks, lying face down on the bed. Your legs dangled off the mattress and your arms were laying by your sides, looking for all the world like you’d just collapsed out of exhaustion, which was basically what had happened.

He knew that he should leave now that he’d ascertained that you were fine, but seeing you look so defeated, he couldn’t help but feel a tug in his chest, compelling him to go to your aid.

Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the mattress next to you, raised a hand to place it on your back, then thought better of it.

“Y/n?” he said again. This time, you stirred slightly. Emboldened, he repeated your name.

As you woke up, you became aware that you were lying face down in a puddle of your own drool, and you pulled your face away from your bedspread with a grimace. “Ugh,” you groaned, wiping at your cheeks and chin with the long sleeve of your shirt. Yoongi looked at you with fond amusement, as you suddenly became aware that he was there and lowered your arm to the bed sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with a cute little scowl. He noted that your reflexes had slipped from when you’d first arrived, although he wasn’t sure if you’d eased up because you trusted them more now or if it was a result of your emotional state.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Yoongi said simply with a little shrug.

“I’m fine,” you grouched, even though you really weren’t.

“I know,” Yoongi accepted, instead of calling you out on your lie. “Just… I had to give Hobi my room, so is it okay if I chill out here for a little while?”

You knew what he was doing, and you appreciated it more than you could say. “Sure, you can stay,” you allowed, striving for nonchalance. From the small smile he gave you, though, you knew that you’d missed the mark. Still, he didn’t call you out on it, instead crawling onto the bed so that he was reclining against the pillows you’d stacked against the headboard.

You followed suit, snuggling close to him and throwing an arm over his middle. Your forehead pressed against his side, and you closed your eyes. You knew that you definitely wouldn’t have done something like this if you were in your right mind, but you’d never felt so alone and helpless in your life and here Yoongi was, offering his own quiet, subtle brand of comfort that you couldn’t help but take greedily.

Yoongi draped an arm around you, rubbing his thumb against your back, and stayed there with you, letting you know without words that you hadn’t been completely abandoned. No matter what, you had him in your corner.

[cordonia]

Ethan + MC: “Stick” 

Summary: Ethan Ramsey has been in love, he’s just never been lovesick. Dr. Valentine didn’t show up for work and suddenly he’s feeling dizzy... 

Inspired by Stick by BANKS 

“Baby, you don't wanna leave You'd be sorry, 'cause honestly I can make you feel better, any day Look at what you've done for me, I called it how I see You belong with me”

Warnings: Brief mention of sexual content. 

Word Count: 2000

“Ethan? You never take time off, what is wrong with you?” June Hirata appeared to be almost excited, but anything was good gossip when you were a neurologist. Every decision the team made was a deeper look into their brain, and that’s why Ethan could never tell her that she was a bit scary. 

“I’m quite dizzy, I don’t feel right practicing medicine today. It’s best I rest at home to avoid making anything worse.” 

“Dr. Valentine must be feeling the same way, today is the first time she called in.” How pointed of her. June didn’t waste time, even when she was playing games. He maybe respected her a bit for it, if it wasn’t involving him. 

“I hadn’t realized,” lies, it was infiltrating his thoughts like a virus. “Have you checked in with her?”

June smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, instead she looked like she was doing a complex math problem with different answers. 

He would never tell anyone he was intimidated by them, mostly because the feeling did not arise often. But June was good at her job, and trying to crack into his brain was one of her favourite pastimes. Anyone else would have thought that June had a bit of a crush, always digging into his personal life, but she had made it very clear she was too good for him. 

She was, but again, never something he would tell her.

“Perhaps you should give her a call on your way home. She might require some medication, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”  

Ethan sighed, hoping it came off as an annoyed reaction to doing anything out of his way. But Dr. June Hirata just turned on her heels and walked away without another word.

Dr. Valentine was too good for him as well. Despite the circumstances of his career putting him ‘above her’, he knew that she would outgrow the entire team one day. She would definitely outgrow him, and the feelings that she reminded him of often. One day she would look at him and see him for who he really was; jaded and struggling to adapt to change. 

It was silly, the things that he did to impress her. A social media account, bordering on favouritism when he took her for trips, and he even felt guilty for how badly he wanted her to win the competition. He wanted her on his team because she was a good doctor, but maybe a bit because her smile made him want to save lives a little bit more than usual. Maybe a lot. 

Ethan loved his job but Valentine made him love it a bit more. It couldn’t be bad though, right? To love someone who challenged him to be a better doctor? Another thing he couldn’t tell anybody, not even her. And he wanted to tell her everything. 

He got into his car without taking out his phone, put the keys in the ignition and began pulling out of the parking lot. He should have called, he should have checked in on her. It didn’t feel like his place, and how ridiculous it would be to call as if he had a right to know why she was home. Or even a right to care, for that matter. He had sworn off doing this to her, playing with her feelings and being misleading. 

It would only hurt her more. 

But what if she was hurt? The dizzy feeling began again and the nausea crept up on him. His hands clenched the wheel until he could barely feel them, but his eyes were still glued on the road. He was only a few streets away from her and he swore he could feel something pulling him to her.  Ridiculous, as all feelings were. Especially whatever this one was. 

He couldn’t just show up, right? But Ethan’s hands were turning the wheel, and suddenly three streets away became one. And then there he was, sitting outside of her apartment, where anybody could see. Her roommates were working, he’d seen them all that morning when he realized she wasn’t there. 

He wasn’t going to get out of the car, and he still hadn’t reached for his phone. Ethan was trying to talk himself out of doing anything, going too far just because he was a bit worried. But... 

He grabbed his phone and dialled her number, holding his breath as he waited for her to pick up. He wanted to hang up, regretting the impulsive decision immediately, but then she’d know how strange he was acting. The phone kept ringing and then reached her voicemail. He hung up, too embarrassed to leave a message in case his voice was shaky. 

Why wasn’t she picking up? Was she oka--

A knock on the passenger window surprised him so much he jumped a little, his phone slipping from his hand and into his lap. Fuck. 

“Ethan?” There she was, peering into his window with messy hair aglow from the sunny sky above them. Ethan swallowed and tried to compose himself, he was speechless for a change. 

She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat next to him. Under any other circumstance, he would have laughed at the sight of her in fluffy pajama pants, but her tank top was it’s own distraction. She picked very inopportune times to be braless. 

“Why are you outside my apartment? I called in super early, I promise I didn’t want to throw off your day.” She sounded concerned, which was slightly ironic, but he was starting to feel bad for bothering her. 

“I’m sorry. I was... well I, I guess I was worried that you needed something.” 

Her brows were furrowed and her gaze went from his face to his hands that were shaking slightly in his lap. Had he noticed that his hands were shaking? It was too late to stop it now. 

“What would I need?” 

He didn’t have a convincing answer to that. “Tylenol? Soup?”

She looked in the back seat, empty of course, and then looked even more confused. “You left your job of saving lives to what? Come make me soup in my own kitchen?”

“Of course not, I was on my way home and just thought that I would check in. We need you healthy and back at work, it doesn’t benefit our patients if you’re sick longer than needed.” Definitely the wrong thing to say to her, as formal as he wanted to be. He could see that she was starting to become annoyed already. 

“I wouldn’t jeopardize the lives of our patients, Ethan. I can make my own soup, I’m not a chore. I just needed a day off.” 

He loved how she said his name, even if it was meant to be patronizing. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t word that quite right, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re important, Dr. Valentine.” 

That seemed to catch her attention, and finally the annoyance dissipated; he felt relieved to see her shrug it off. “Thank you for checking in. I’ll be back tomorrow, it’s just not a good day. It’s the anniversary of the death of someone who was very close to me, and I thought I would be okay today... but,” she faltered and closed her mouth instead of finishing the sentence. 

Suddenly the anxiety, the dizziness and stress on his muscles seemed to fade away. Empathy was not Ethan’s favourite feeling, but he couldn’t help but be flooded by it when she looked away from him to hide the shine in her eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry before, and it wasn’t something he would like watching. 

He tried to change the subject. “Are those bunnies riding polar bears?” 

Her gaze snapped back to him and she immediately grinned, blinking away the start of her tears. “My grandmother bought me these pajamas. I have no idea why the bunnies are riding polar bears, but they’re quite soft.” 

His fingers instinctively twitched and he stopped himself from reaching out to touch the strange choice of lounge wear. She was always attentive of his movement, much like June was of his lies. 

He was back to holding his breath again as she reached for his hand, pulling it to her. How was she always so warm and inviting? 

“Touch them,” she said, a bit quieter. 

He nodded and let his fingers graze the material over her thigh. She was right, it was soft, just like the rest of her... But those thoughts were better kept pushed to the back of his brain. He couldn’t think about the one night they had spent together... 

“You’re starting to make me sick.” The words left his tongue quicker than he had anticipated, no time to find any eloquent way to express his thoughts. 

“What?” She recoiled away from his touch and his eyes widened as his brain caught up. 

“Lovesick,” he said even more quickly. “Rookie, I think you’ve been making me lovesick.” 

“You’re telling me,” she whispered, shaking her head with a small smile upon her lips. “Do you ever think that if we hadn’t kissed, it wouldn’t have gotten this hard?”

He knew what the right answer was, the professional answer. And just as she probably had, he had run through every encounter with her in his head, a million times. Ethan had spent so much time wondering when he’d become so hung up on her, but he didn’t have a satisfying answer. She had been stuck inside of his heart for so long now that the love had left roots. How do you choose to uproot your love for somebody once it becomes a part of you like that? 

She was waiting for a response that he didn’t have. Against his better judgement, his hand reached up to her face and caressed her cheek. Her eyes closed and her whole body relaxed. Was that all it took, one touch? Ethan didn’t always know his own power. 

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t take it back,” he said firmly, sure of that answer even if it wasn’t enough. 

When she leaned in, he didn’t pull away like he knew he should have. Instead, he let her lips press against his so softly that it could have been his imagination. 

His fingers became entangled in her hair as he gripped the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. Their lips met again and this time he let guard down, overwhelmed, his teeth catching her bottom lip. She moaned, just slightly and as her lips parted, his tongue brushed against hers. Nobody else could ever make the taste of mint toothpaste so inviting. Her nails dug into his arm and the slight sting of pain only led to a deeper kiss. 

Ethan could imagine pulling her upstairs, taking off those ridiculous pajamas and kissing her until her knees could no longer keep her upright. He would have bent her off the kitchen counter, maybe the couch if they made it that far. And every time she said his name, he’d fuck her a little bit harder. Until they both couldn’t stand. 

That’s what being in her presence was like most of the time. The slightest touch, accidental or stolen, put scenarios in his head like he was watching a film broken into so many parts. He could envision so many illicit encounters, but other things he craved too. Holding her hand in public, making dinner around her friends, and sharing a bed with her some nights. 

She was probably considering the same scenarios, he caught the look in her eyes so many times and he knew how badly they both had it. 

For a change, she was the one who pulled back first. “You’re supposed to be going home, Dr. Ramsey.” 

So this was how she felt when so many times it was him who pulled away. Hungry and longing to push things just a little bit further... Perhaps not a little bit, but his brain was desperate to rationalize any chance to touch her. 

Reality was cruel. 

“I’m suddenly feeling a bit better, actually, I should go back to work and see what I can get done.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He nodded in response and she began to climb out of the car. 

“Rookie? Call me if you ever need anything, even soup.” 

She nodded and gave him a smile that he had noticed was reserved just for him. He hated that he noticed things like that, because June would too. Just like she would know something was off when he miraculously returned to work. 

“Don’t have too much fun saving lives without me.” She winked and then headed back to the apartment. 

“I won’t,” he said to himself, exasperated. He should have just called, but he was very, very glad he didn’t. 

-

Tagging: @binny1985 

[captain-tch]

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner, who gets thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 3: two truths and a lie 

previous chapter

Kiko was sweating so hard she thought she wouldn’t be able to get out of her chair. She was praying no one would be able to see, but with all the eight players sat in a circle, she was certain they all had a front seat view to the perspiration building on her forehead. 

In front of them all was a polygraph. From the frowns on some peoples faces, it was clear they were confused as to what it was, some of them even glancing at the foreign device cautiously. Still they followed the instructions from the bodiless voice to connect themselves to it. Kiko prayed it didn’t mistake the racing of her heart as a lie.

“RULES: ONE PLAYER WILL TELL THE OTHER PLAYERS TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE. WHAT LIE THEY TELL AND WHAT THESE TRUTHS ARE ABOUT WILL BE DISPLAYED ON YOUR DEVICES. IF YOU DO NOT TELL THE SPECIFIED TRUTH OR TELL THE LIE YOU ARE TOLD, THEN YOU WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. YOU CAN ASK EACH PLAYER TWO QUESTIONS. THOSE THAT CORRECTLY IDENTIFY THE LIE WILL WIN AND CONTINUE TO PLAY THE NEXT ROUND, UNTIL ALL PLAYERS HAVE HAD A TURN.” 

Something about the word disqualified rang alarm bells in her head. Kiko watched the boy in front of her carefully, seeing how he flinched when the voice said this. It clearly wasn’t disqualification as Kiko knew it, but something far more sinister. 

“YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES. GOOD LUCK.” 

As soon as the voice stopped talking, Kiko’s phone flashed. All around the room her fellow players reached for their phones, reading the information displayed to them on the screen. She took a moment to gauge their reactions - a man in shorts raised a brow before putting his phone face down, glancing nervously at the person next to him, another man with glasses smiled, and the middle aged woman Kiko spoke to earlier was impassive. The teenage boy sat directly in front of her didn’t even look at his phone.  

Taking a deep breath, Kiko read the information on the screen. 

TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR DARKEST TIME.  TELL A TRUTH ABOUT YOUR FATHER.  DO NOT TELL A LIE - PICK A RANDOM TRUTH ABOUT YOURSELF. 

Kiko tried to control her expression. She tried to not betray the confusion running throughout her body. The rules were running through her head on a loop - maybe by telling only truths, she was misleading her fellow players. By default, even if the words she said were true, she was lying to them. Kiko suppressed the urge to gulp deeply. She tried to focus on the information instead, repeating it endlessly so she wouldn’t make a mistake and get disqualified.  

Placing her phone face down on the table, she cast a glance around the room. Everyone was eyeing up the other players. 

“Who goes first?” The man with glasses asked. He pulled on the collar of his shirt. 

A girl Kiko hadn’t taken much notice of before piped up, clicking her heels on the ground. “Since you so kindly volunteered, why don’t you go? Then we can follow it around.”

Glasses man grumbled, but yielded none the less. Kiko stared at him carefully, watching how his hands kept tapping thin air and he kept licking his lips. “I’ve been committing tax fraud for the past five years.” 

He paused, as if waiting for someone to egg him on. He relaxed a bit in his chair. “I married my wife even though I never loved her.” 

Kiko sat further up in her seat. 

“I hate it when the girl I’m fucking behind my wife’s back is on top during sex.” 

A snort slipped past Kiko’s lips. Glasses sent her a glare, which she returned with a sweet smile. 

“What questions should we ask?” Shorts man offered the room. No one responded. 

Time was ticking and Kiko hated it. These people were sitting silently, as if expecting the answer to be handed to them on a plate. Time was money, a concept Kiko was far too familiar with. Before she could stop herself, she had directed a question to Glasses. “When did you and your wife get married?” 

“18th October 1992.” He responded quickly.

At this, Kiko tilted her head slightly. Why would a man who claimed to have never loved his wife, remember the date they got married? Maybe the speed he responded wasn’t because the date was ingrained in his brain, but a sheer moment of panic. Either way, it seemed impossible to pluck a random date from thin air. Even if that wasn’t the date they got married, it clearly was a date of significance to him. 

She turned to her fellow players, “Anyone else want to ask a question, or can I go ahead?” 

They gestured for her to carry on. Egged on with this confidence, Kiko asked a final question. “When did you start fucking other people who weren’t your wife?” 

He paled slightly. Head turned down in shame, he answered. “Four years ago.” 

Kiko mulled the information over. The rules said that you had to identify the lie - but they never said anything about half truths. For him to have started an affair so late in the marriage, and to remember the date so quickly, suggested to her that he did love his wife once. By default, it was technically a lie. However with the way he reacted to about the fraud, she wasn’t sure that was the lie. He was nervous, but who wouldn’t be if they committed fraud? Maybe Glasses messed up on the delivery. Or maybe there was only one lie and Kiko was looking too much into it. 

“I think his lie is that he never loved his wife.” Kiko followed her gut. The other players stared at Kiko, as if looking for an explanation. Sighing, Kiko explained the train of thought she’d had. It seemed to satisfy most of them, and nearly everyone bar one agreed with Kiko. 

“Hold up, you’re going to blindly agree with this girl? You know she could be setting us up right?” The man in the shorts argued, pointing an accusatory finger at Kiko. “I don’t trust the newbie. I believe that the lie is that he committed tax fraud.” 

With all the answers in, the disembodied voice made an announcement. “SIX PLAYERS ARE CORRECT. ONE PLAYER IS DISQUALIFIED.” 

With those damning words, a beam of energy appeared from the roof. And shot the man in the shorts directly in the head. 

Kiko shrieked, watching his body slump and fall off of the chair. A hole was burned into his head. His mouth was slack, his body robbed of the time to scream. His coffee coloured eyes were wide open. Kiko couldn’t erase the feeling he was staring at right at her. Her vision became misty, unable to rip her focus from the dead man she indirectly killed. 

The player sat beside him didn’t spare the dead body even a single glance. Now, Kiko understood the blank faces, the dead eyes and the hopeless attitude. 

To be disqualified, was to die. 

The next five players passed in a blur. The lies were easy to spot from miles away, and having gained the trust of her fellow players everyone gave the same answer Kiko did. While it did provide her a sense of pride they trusted her so easily, the weight of the game lay heavy on her shoulders. Each time she pondered an answer, she saw the man in the shorts, how his face fell slack as the laser pierced his brain, ending his life. 

She wouldn’t allow that to happen again. 

But as they worked through the players and got closer to Kiko, she realised how fucked her team mates were. She didn’t have a lie to tell. They had been relying on her to identify the answers, and now they were going to do it alone. Someone was bound to die. 

“Kiko, it’s your turn.” The middle aged woman gently reminded her. “Not to be rude, but we only have five minutes remaining. You better be quick.” 

Gulping harshly, Kiko tried as hard as she could to not show any tells. The moment she showed a clear tell, they would latch onto it and believe that would be the lie. After years of training her face to face loan sharks and debt collectors, she composed an iron wall in front of her features. 

She needed to tell them a truth about her darkest time. God, she wished she didn’t have to share this with strangers. Even her own brother didn’t know. “My dad went into hospital and I... I tried to jump in front of a train.” 

Taking in a deep breath, she continued with a truth about her father. “My father died and left me with a lot of debt. I resent him for that.” 

Lastly, the final truth. The truth that was meant to be a lie. She panicked, letting the first thing that came to mind spill past her lips. “I’m allergic to cats.” 

Kiko watched her fellow players, seeing the answers she gave toll in their minds. They had less than five minutes now to decide on the answer. The weight of their deaths felt heavy on her heart and Kiko questioned why this wasn’t a hearts game, especially since she could feel her heart ache in preparation for the pain that was about to come. 

“Why did you jump in front of a train?” The woman in heels asked. “Not exactly a great solution to the problem.” 

Anger boiled off of Kiko. “Fuck off and shove your heels up your ass.”

“You need to answer it.” 

“It...” Kiko glanced away from the woman, trying to shy away from her venomous gaze. Her voice was small as she revealed one of her darkest secrets. “It felt like the only option at the time.” Kiko stared at the woman, imagining how satisfying it would be to punch her. “Can you please stop looking at me as if I’m the scum of the earth?” 

“I just hate it when people lie about things so serious.” 

Kiko laughed darkly, shaking her head. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you lie about murdering a man? I bet it was because you only got manslaughter instead.” 

“You bitch -” The heeled woman was cut off by the middle aged lady. 

“We only have 2 minutes remaining.” The middle aged woman smiled at Kiko, taking it upon herself to ask the final question. “Did you love your father?” 

“With all my heart.” 

“Then I’m sure he forgives you for feeling the way you do.” The woman looked at the fellow players. “I believe the lie is that she’s allergic to cats.” 

All around the room, everyone started to list her lie. There was a variety of answers, with the heeled woman believing the lie was about her dark time. With each answer, Kiko felt her heart fall further. She stared at their faces, memorising the features of those she was about to murder, trying to push down the roaring wave building in her chest. 

“My answer is there was no lie.”

Kiko’s head snapped to the boy sat in front of her. His face was young, with eyes old beyond his years. He was subconsciously rubbing the red stain on his shirt sleeve. 

“ONE PLAYER IS CORRECT. FIVE PLAYERS ARE DISQUALIFIED.” 

She managed to stomach her scream as five people got murdered before her very eyes. 

“GAME CLEAR - CONGRATULATIONS.” 

Kiko removed herself from the polygraph, keeping her gaze fixed on one point of the wall as she left the room. With a controlled ease, she stepped over a pair of heels blocking her way. She made her way to the entrance, ready to open the door and feel the air brush her skin. 

“Wait!” The boy jogged behind her. In his hand was looked like a card, the seven of diamonds painted on it’s surface. “You forgot this.” 

Kiko rolled her eyes. “What am I going to do with a playing card that proves I killed six people?” 

“You never know when you might need them.” He offered the card out to her. Begrudgingly, she plucked it from his fingers, turning her back to him. “Wait.” 

She took a calming breath. A storm was brewing inside her and her body was begging for it to be released. All this conversation did was build the intensity of the destruction. 

The boy no longer looked like a boy, a memory of a dark time adding to his years. She could see in the way his eyes clouded and his lips downturned. “I know how it feels right now. Don’t make their deaths mean nothing.” 

“What do I do?”

He gave her a sad smile. “You fight to get back home.” 

“How?” She wasn’t sure at which point she relied on a teenage boy to hold all of the answers. 

“You keep playing games. With this seven of diamonds game, you have a seven day visa. Play a game before it expires. You don’t want to find out what happens if it does.”

With those wise words, he clapped her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before pushing his way into the outside world. She followed him, watching him walk further away. As his shadow melted into the night, she wondered if she should have asked him to stay with her. 

She didn’t even know his name. 

She didn’t know any of their names. 

Somehow now, with the ghosts of those she murdered haunting her, she felt lonelier than she ever had before. 

[fairyshuuu]

Iveracity 1| do kyungsoo

.summary. IVERACITY (noun) the act or practice of deceiving; concealment or distortion of the truth for the purpose of misleading; duplicity; fraud; lies. .word count. 30k .pirate!au | princess!au | strangers to lovers!au. .pairing. kyungsoo x female!reader .genre. fluff, romance, fantasy, smut (in part 2) 

.warnings. violence, blood mentions, char/char threats (violence is not cute pals!), swearing, human trafficking mentions, drowning threats and mentions, sehun is best boy, pirate!baekhyun (not a warning but i ♡), explicit language and scenes, dom!kyungsoo, first time, unprotected sex, it starts very slow, i’m sorry!

!  if you are on mobile, please try to open this post on desktop instead because it might very well crash the app, thank youu  !

.author’s note. this bitch is really long, so sit down with a blanket and a cup of tea please, i don’t want you to get back or neck pain. hope you enjoy!!

    🌊🌊🌊    

With the bright of morn, a harmonic melody sounds just barely though the thick, stone walls, waking any stragglers from slumber. You, however, have been awake for hours already. Though your hair is pinned up with costly jewelry every which way, still a few stray strands fall into your face. “Oh please, your Highness,” you breathe, turning on your heel to follow behind the tall figure that readies to walk out the door, “it’s hardly a difficult request. I’ve been scouring the port for weeks now. I’m prepared entirely, top to bottom.”

The man sighs and sends you a small smile, while two maids slide the protectors around his lower arms into place. When all is finished, his pristine outfit all in place for the day, he turns to you. A heavy hand is rested on your shoulder, dark eyes finding yours. “Will you settle down? It’s early, Princess, and people are still sleeping.”

“The sun is up,” you huff in response, “that means ‘get to work’.” The two maids bow deeply and leave the room after that, leaving just the two of you in the smaller of dressing rooms inside the palace. When the King doesn’t say any more, you breathe out deeply. “Father, please. I promise I can do this. I’ve readied all my supplies myself, I have a guard set up and everything. Besides, I’m not as young as you hope I am anymore. If not now, I’ll never get to do anything worthwhile before I’m married off.” When your father glances at you again, you pout. “Please?”

“Y/N Clementine Panethin,” he says, a frown sliding onto his face. Your father, though he does his best to sound fed up, has always had a soft spot for you. It is why you can push it as much as you can, you’d hardly ever consider whining this way to your mother. He rubs his fingers right above his brow, smoothing away the non-existent wrinkles there as he thinks. Your father, like most of the kings and queens, is still very young. Perhaps it’s this that sets you apart from the working class. The ability to marry young, to have children while you’re still as able-bodied as you were. Well, that, and the money of course. 

“Why,” he sighs then, “why is it so hard for you to just accept your role in this world?” His clothes are covered top to bottom in fine copper thread, shimmering even in the low light of the sun. If he was hunting for food, and not for fun, you’d guess the clothes impractical. But royals don’t do anything for the need of it. “And I don’t think you can complain about marriage, young lady. When I was as young as you are now, I was already married and had your sister, after all. Be glad I haven’t married you off myself already.” You huff in response, taking as deep a breath as the tight corset around your ribs allows you to.

“I’m fading away in these sad, lonely walls! Colet and Toelo don’t have to stay inside all day, why do I?”

“Because your older sister and brother are both married and are doing their ruling jobs, Princess. Until you are, you’re supposed to stay inside and learn your families craft by heart. That is your role, as the younger of the two girls,” he smiles as he says it, sensing your absolute refusal of his words as soon as he speaks them. He is, by all accounts, right of course. Women being the head of the family comes with some great advantages, ones you have no right complaining about. Still doesn’t take away the excruciating boredom though.

“I’ve learned everything I had to since I was five years old. I can read texts older than my great great grandmother, should I ever need to do so. I can paint, sing and dance.” You sigh, looking at the countless pieces of jewelry displayed on the wall next to you, and pick one of the pieces from it’s hanger. Your father bows his head smoothly for you to place it on him, securing it in his long, black hair to have the colorful stone fall between his brows. A protection charm. “But what I want more than all of that combined— is to see the world. Please, your Highness, let me. And I’ll never complain again.”

With this, your father straightens up, and pulls you into a small hug. “Alright, you little monkey. You can go.” He walks to the door and past it then, not willing to lose more precious daylight spent indoors. You trail behind, eyes wide.

“Wait, really? I’m really allowed to go?” When your father rolls his eyes at your disbelief, you jump up and give him another hug. “Oh really?! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best parent ever. I love you.” When you rush past him and toward the exit, your father laughs along with you.

“Be careful! And I want to hear from you in a dozen days at the latest.”

“Promise!” you confirm, already rushing through the shiny halls on bare feet. With the door closing behind you, you run past the many rooms of the palace, past the gardens too. After a good minute or two you finally make it to the main room, as many of your cousins and nieces get ready to eat breakfast. You don’t need to join them, not when you have a ship to board in a couple hours. Arriving to the main hall, you slow, taking a deep breath in and out. Excitement rushes through your veins.

The main hall leads straight to the wide, open world. The sky is clear, though still dim in the early quiet of the morning, colored an orange to pull in the rising sun. The big plaza in front of the palace is still devoid of people this early too. You clean and dry your feet quickly before tying your shoes and grabbing the bags prepared carefully for your departure.

The plan is to join the traveling fleet on it’s journey to your biggest trading companion. Aking, the Capital and the only home you’ve ever known, is rich with many talented artisans who often sail their goods to the land north from here. You don’t just know this of course, since a Princess doesn’t have much to trade for. You barely go outside of the city, let alone to leave the island. And you like it that way for the most part, since your country is a beautiful, thriving place. 

But for as much as you’ve read, there’s one place that seems to be even prettier. Elyfhil, of the land of snow. When your older sister announced yet another trading fleet to go there, you couldn’t help yourself. You just have to see it yourself, if only once. The cold breeze travels down your spine, carrying the soft rumbling of the lively city to greet you. As if right on time, a voice clears behind you. “Where do you think you’re rushing off to so quietly, Princess?”

You straighten out, and pull a grin as you greet the new person. “Out.”

The young man’s eyebrows rise considerably, normally serious expression replaced for one of youthful wonder. “You actually got them to let you go?” Sehun is dressed in the royal guard colors, sunflower yellow and a deep blue, though he still looks about as sleep deprived as usual. For as much as the guards get switched out, a security measure of sorts, Sehun’s been there for longer than you can remember. He was one of the only people to ever volunteer, if you recall correctly. He’s been your friend ever since he entered the palace at twelve years old, wide eyed and clueless.

“Sure did,” you nod, smiling gratefully when Sehun takes the heavier bag from you to carry it himself. He’s not the little, scrawny boy he once was anymore, and it shows. “Actually, I was just about to go check the quarters for a guard willing to accompany me on a long and tiresome journey like this one. It might be hard to find someone able to travel with me. Unless you want—”

“I’ll go!” Sehun brings out before you can even finish, reaching forward to grab your second bag. “Anything to get away from the new maid girl. She’s been following me around for the entire week, I can’t do it anymore. I suppose I feel flattered, but Gods… I can hardly focus on my work this way.” You snort as he colors slightly pink.

“Yeah, you’re right. Which man would possibly enjoy the attention of a beautiful girl like her? I can’t imagine the hardship.” Sehun’s face voids when he looks at you, though you can almost read the retort in his eyes. Luckily you’re a Princess, who can’t be sworn at. “Come on, Master Sehun. We have a ride to catch.” With a swift nod, he slips into his shoes as well, and starts walking. Down the stairs and across the marketplace that unfold in the shadow of the mountain. You greet some people as they walk past, getting ready to set up store on the expanse.

When you look further down the path, Sehun has your both bags on a shoulder each, dark hair swaying left and right in the wind, much like the flowers that line the cobbled street. You speed your steps to keep up with the man, and take a deep breath of the peaceful silence of the city. Some kids dart behind the houses when they see you two approach. “Are my bags not too heavy?” you ask, turning to your friend. “We might have to leave some things behind in the stables if they are.”

Sehun laughs at that, shaking his head. His eyes crinkle into moons with that sentiment, reminding you of the many times you two played in the royal gardens when you were both a lot younger. This must be the first time you’re heading out with him though, even with all the years that have passed. “They are fine, Princess,” your friend grins, looking over his shoulder as you do your best to keep up with his long legs. As you arrive to the big, richly decorated building he pauses, putting them down next to his feet. “Now quickly go pick a horse for us both. Or your precious dream will sail off without you.”

     🌊🌊🌊    

The trip to the port city Aoran takes both longer and less than you expect it to. The sun is quite unforgiving while you travel, the heat of the horse beneath you only adding to it in turn. But though you ride for a couple of hours, the scenery is ever-changing and you find it to go by much quicker than hours normally do. When you finally arrive, your water and tea are almost at day’s end. The salty ocean wind comes to wish you welcome, along with the busy chatter of the city life. The streets are wider than those back home, and crawling with people left and right. You dismount your horse smoothly, not catching your robe like you watch Sehun do, as he almost levels with the ground. You do your best to keep the giggles to a minimum when he already looks entirely mortified.

As you cautiously walk into town, many eyes trail behind you. You guess you do stand out quite a bit, doused top to bottom in everything expensive. Aking is full of these sorts though, you never noticed how obvious you were until just now. The people here are used to a more toned down display of class. Long hair tied out of the way with ribbons instead of the metal pins you’re used to, and a surprising amount of pants. Weird. As you walk, Sehun stays close to your side, though his eyes are as full of curious stars as yours are, if not more. “I’m pretty sure we just follow the road down,” you mumble to him, noticing people who scurry around to get out of your path. You never really thought the Capital as rich before, but maybe now— 

“I believe so too, Princess.” He cocks his head forward in gesture, towards a group of men and women further down the wide, cobbled streets that click under your shoes. “I’d say follow the fishermen, probably.” Indeed, the people have thick bundles of nets tied around their backs, and heavy ropes in hand, most likely seafolk of a sort. When they turn the corner at the end of the street, so do you. The houses here are nowhere near as tall or large as you’re used to, but they have a certain charm. Though foreign, the city carries a peacefulness, a rhythm of life that seems to bring you warmth. If you weren’t so down on time, you’d love to spend weeks here, exploring every single nook and cranny. 

Soon, the sounds of chatter is replaced with that of seagulls, and of metal slamming against wood. A much rougher sound. The sun sinks ever so slowly past it’s highest point, making you swallow. After midday, the letters had informed. You just hope… “What if we missed the boat, Sehun? I can’t possibly explain my mother that I wish to try again.” You lean a bit closer to him when a vendor jumps into the street to sell some goods, reeking of wine, or maybe some cheaper drink. He doesn’t seem worried though, and trails peacefully behind you.

“I doubt there’s anything your parents wouldn’t allow you, your Highness.” He smiles as if to himself, before looking over at you. “Or is it not you whose entire collection of ancient pottery was painted over at a certain time, “by accident”? Pretty sure you didn’t even get told off, let alone punished. The King and Queen have the biggest of soft spots for you. If you blink your lashes enough, I’m certain you can do whatever you desire.” When he finishes with a giggle, you have to pause. A soft hum leaves you, because he’s right. You can hardly complain.

The fisherfolk in front turn corner again, leaving you to wonder. As you look up to follow one of the birds overhead with your eyes, you spot a tall pole sticking out above the houses. It is a little rough around the edges, with worn ropes hanging from the top and another fabric that darts softly back and forth in the wind. It takes a few seconds for you to really realize what it is, but when you do you almost swallow your tongue. “Is that the mast?” you bring out, shocked. “It’s so much taller than I thought it would be, dear Gods! How big is this damn boat?”

You rush down the last bit of road at a much swifter pace, the brown mare trotting behind you. When you round the corner, with Sehun’s displeased mumbling in the background, you stop drop dead in the middle of the street. The pier is long, and filled with hundreds of people, but that’s not what catches your attention. The wooden boat closest to you is massive, and only one of many. You could run the entire length of it and be out of breath. The national flag blows proud in the wind, wood accompanied with touches of silver, and ocean topaz that shimmers in the light of the sun. Clearly part of the royal fleet. You don’t even want to doubt how a thing of this size floats.

“Princess Y/N,” Sehun calls from behind you, having caught up. “Over here.” You have to forcefully tear your eyes away from the countless things happening to find your friend in the stir. People do their best to stay out of your way though, staring over their shoulders with whispers of ‘princess’ to their friends. You spot Sehun standing by another guard, as he motions you closer. “This is Marthe, a guard of house Sinith. He’s staying here in town until the crew return from their journey.” The boy is still quite young, with boyish features and some messy, brown hair. He gives you a deep bow, not quite catching your eyes. It too, is pinned out of his face with a silver-like pin, decorated all over with tiny, orange gems. Strange how easy it is to pick out who belongs and who doesn’t. But then again, maybe that’s the point.

“Your Majesty” the boy smiles, taking hold of Sehun’s horse as he hands it over. “My sister and her husband own that tavern, over down by the beach. We have some stables that can hold the royal mounts while you go, though. If that would convenience your Majesty, of course.” Sehun’s already taking your bags off of the horses before you can say anything, so with a small smile, you agree. He smoothly picks the reigns from your hands without touching them, and bows once again. “I’ll take good care of them,” he confirms. You don’t doubt it.

“Thank you. You’ll be rewarded graciously upon my return,” you confirm, already watching him turn away. Some voices sound from down further, with the wafts of the waves rhythmically smashing against the pier. Everything seems to move much quicker here, like the rapid flow of the ocean affects the people just as much as it affects the sand. This is their life though, the maritime trade provides everyone here with money to live. You grab a loose hold of Sehun’s garb as he travels through the people, hands occupied with your large sacks. His tall shape barely sticks out between all the others here. “Hey, Sehun?” you suddenly bring out, squeezing between two men who drag a full net over the ground. Sehun can just about catch your eyes as he looks over, and pulls a questioning face. “Was this one of my really bad ideas, you think?”

“Probably,” he laughs, “but I like it. At least you’re trying to be someone you dream of being. The Capital has enough prim and proper Princesses to marry half of them off without problems. You’re making a difference!” He points over to the ocean then, to the incoming waves that look a lot less unruly from a distance. “I haven’t heard of a single princess boarding a ship just for the fun of it, after all.” You two walk past the full length of the pier to reach the way up, as you stare all the while. People climb with ease into the ropes that span between the masts. Some people carry the last of giant boxes of merchandise down deck, while others talk joyfully between them. A boat like this, as strange as it sounds, almost has an entire life of it’s own, you think. A life where city rules don’t count nearly as much.

“Careful,” Sehun motions over to the edge of the pier as you come to a standstill, looking up now too. He stares for a second longer, before lifting his shoulders. “I think here is where my expertise stops, your Highness. You do have a way to get on board, don’t you?” You point in front of you without thinking, to the narrow piece of wood connecting the pier to the boat. It moves up and down with the motions of the wooden vehicle. “By Idite, not that! I mean, are we even allowed to be on the ship, Princess?”

“Oh, that,” you respond. Of course you thought of that, you’ve been preparing for this journey for two months now. Though, you’re not quite sure how this works. “Yes, of course, we’re allowed. I’ve sent multiple letters back and forth with the crew leader, after all. I just don’t really … know what they look like, ‘s all.” This makes your friend’s mouth drop open in disbelief, but you’re already walking up the plank before he can add any of his no-doubt entirely positive criticism. “Only one way to find out, I guess!” With wide outstretched arms you walk forth bit by bit, not willing to let the sudden movements of the waves below scare you. Another advantage of being royal born maybe, is that you have received a great swimming training, since you were a small child.

You hold your breath when the plank creaks below your feet, balance feeling entirely clunky on the narrow walkway. When you finally set foot on board, a relief seems to fill your tense body. You turn to Sehun to check on him, and motion for him to throw the bags over to you, which he does with a surprising ease. As the bags land with loud thumps beside you, you turn to take in the ship. Your entrance doesn’t seem to have gone unnoticed, however, since many of the men stare at you without blinking. “Captain!” one calls over his shoulder, as you look around. The sails of the boat are truly gigantic, most likely the largest pieces of fabric you’ve ever seen, and fall from three different masts. The wood under your feet is polished top to bottom.

Without warning, a person suddenly drops from the sky— or one of the many ropes more likely, having you stumble back in surprise. The stranger is tall and quite built, with long, copper hair that peeks out from under a large hat. The woman grins when your eyes widen in surprise, before bowing a slight bit. “Well, well, what pretty flower washed onto my ship so suddenly.” Before you can answer, she takes a gentle hold of your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, as you shoot entirely cherry red. “You’re awfully dressed up.” 

When you don’t respond right away, she lets your hand drop back down under the laughter of some of the crew, and lifts an eyebrow. “Sorry to say, sugar plum, but I think you’ve walked onto the wrong ship. And I don’t like sending pretty girls away so rudely, but we have somewhere to be before sundown, so.” The woman is clearly a good bit older than you, but is dressed in the colors of your house, albeit a faded version of them because of the sun. Her skin is full and warm, and her face with big, round eyes that seem to scan you thoroughly.

As you open your lips to respond, a smooth voice comes from your right, somewhat hurried and with a hint of laughter laced between the words. “Ah, Captain, I think this is my doing.” The man greets you with a deep bow, and smiles, lips curling cutely like a feline during a nap. “You must be Princess Y/N, I’ll assume. I’m your correspondent of the last few weeks, it’s nice to finally meet you in person. Kim Jongdae, quartermaster.” He greets you in the traditional Aking way that you’re much more used to, with his knuckles pressed together against his heart and a small bow of the head, that you gratefully reincorporate. “Or first mate, for the non seafaring folk, I guess.”

He then turns your attention back to the woman to his side, and smiles widely. “This scary one is the boss of this operation, you’ll be safe in her hands. Captain Lilith, meet the Princess that will be accompanying us for our travels. Princess,” he then returns. You briefly offer the captain a deep bow, looking around. The crew that have gathered around you in a circle seem increasingly interested now. You have to wonder how many of them have ever been to the Capital before, if any. Lilith nods in understanding, before crossing her muscular arms over her chest. You’ve seen strong women before, but geez, she’s got more muscles than Sehun does. It’s kind of impressive.

“I see. Well then,” she sighs, pointing in the general direction of the cabin at the far end of the boat. “Sugar plum can stay in the free room downstairs.” She looks around at her crew then, and frowns. “What are all of you still standing here, we’ve got a ship to man! Off your feet and to your positions. This is not a evening cruise, so make it snappy, thank you very much.” With a hand on the black-haired man’s shoulder, she moves to walk away. “Jongdae, you’ll handle this?”

“Aye, Captain.” Her heavy boots make the wood creak as she walks away, disappearing out of view by the wild back and forth of her crew. You stare until the feather of her hat vanishes entirely when the door is pulled close behind her. So instead you turn your attention to the man who’s left. Jongdae is kind-looking, with bright, calculating eyes and high cheekbones, one of which has a scar down it. His hair is tied back with the same ribbons you saw the townspeople use, but he has a certain attitude that screams Capital to you. He takes you in top to bottom again now, and then smiles, the gesture warm. “I’m sorry about that. I did tell her that you’d be coming a few days ago, but in all the preparation, it must have slipped both of our minds. I’ll prepare your room as soon as we’re out of the harbor, Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, toying with your dress, “I’ve had that happen to me more times than I can count.” You turn to pick up the bags that were so graciously tossed on board earlier, and then gasp. “Oh! This is Sehun, by the way. He’s my guard for this journey. I did mention that, didn’t I?” Sehun bows politely to the quartermaster, looking about as out-of-his-element as you feel.

“You did,” the raven haired man grins, giving the other a slight bow.

“Good.” You flush a little, attempting to shake the silence between you. It’s just strange. You’ve never met people before who regard you so casually while knowing who you are. It’s either one or the other, most of the time. When you go out into the outskirts of capital, dressed in the plainest clothes you own, it’s easy to pretend that you’re one of them. Sit by the canal, watching small children rushing by on their short, stubby, little legs. When one of them tumbles and you rush forward to help, a mother thanks you genuinely. Because she wants to thank you, not because of a certain imposed obligation. Jongdae looks at you this way now too, despite knowing who you are. You swallow, and attempt a better hold on the bag when it slips down. “Is there anything I could help with?”

“Later, maybe,” he agrees, which makes a slight pride swell in your chest. At least he doesn’t think you’re entirely useless. Jongdae nods, more to himself than to you, and cleans his hands on his brown pants. You’re a bit caught off guard when you really take a look at him. His clothes are not what you expected a sailor to wear, though that might be an entirely self-centered misconception on your part. It’s just— his clothes are clean, and entirely well made too. The white blouse seems much more comfortable on a busy place like this than the tight, restrictive clothing your dressed in. Colorful glass beads are woven into some strands of his hair, and his earrings are even more intricate then yours. “I guess it’s good that our ship is as big as it is, huh. With the amount of metal you’re wearing, a smaller vessel would have gone straight to the bottom.”

You laugh a little at that, glad to rid the situation of the awkward tension as soon as possible. If you’ll be on the same ship for a few weeks, you’d rather be comfortable with the people you’re on it with. Jongdae doesn’t seem very hard to like, though. “I think you’ll be fine.” You look up to the sky again, watching as people swing around between the ropes with ease, like they’ve spent their entire lives up in the ropes. Most of them probably have. “I’ve never been on a boat this big,” you admit, “or at all, really.”

Jongdae motions to follow him as he talks, eyes smiley. “It’s not just a boat. It’s a ship, Princess. The royal fleet has some of the biggest ships in the entire world, the May Terror is no exception.” As you walk toward the cabin, you notice that the plaque above the door indeed has ‘May Terror’ engraved into it, bright in the afternoon sun. You wonder who gave it it’s name. Lilith, maybe. You walk past many of the crew, attempting to acknowledge every person you meet with a little bow of your head. “Besides,” Jongdae continues, “I guess we would be fine! Don’t Royal born’s float in water?” He turns to you with a laugh, but the question seems entirely genuine, so you raise your brows at him.

“No! Of course we don’t.” You glance behind you to check for your friend a second, before continuing. Sehun seems bright in the light of the sun, his demeanor entirely soaking in the new environment. You’re glad he likes it this much, you do too. “I don’t think there’s anything that floats in the ocean, quartermaster.”

“Actually,” Sehun brings out, long legs easily keeping up with your pace even with his wondrous looking around, “I heard the same about sailors.” Jongdae’s eyebrows raise at that. “That they float in water, you know.”

Jongdae snorts, and pushes open the back door of the cabin, leading into a dim staircase. “Well, believe me, we don’t either. After you,” he gestures. You shift your dumb, big bag to one arm, and lift your dress with the other hand as you descend, blinking against the darkness of the hall. Jongdae follows behind you, and Sehun last. The hall is narrow, the air a bit dull. The strong scent of sea is still present, but there’s also hints of candle wax and wine here, which seems to check out. Jongdae leans over you a little to point at the far door to your right, and laughs. “That’s the one. You and your guard would be sharing a room though, if that’s okay. Or, if you’re not too comfortable with that idea, he can sleep downstairs as well, where the rest of the crew is.”

You nod and make your way over, pushing down the silver handle to reveal a beautiful room, with more light than you would’ve expected. A large, round window sits in the middle of the wall, flanked on both sides by beds. The side closest to you has a large dresser, and even a mirror. “Wow,” you just breathe, making way to allow both men to enter. As you walk towards the window, a loud bell sounds from somewhere upstairs, scaring you a little.

“Ah, I’ve gotta be getting up there, we’re sailing out.” Jongdae checks around the room quickly, before nodding. “You can get settled in, your Highness. And afterwards, come find us up top, the main door will lead you straight to the office. If you have a need for anything else, we’ll get you sorted out then.” Before you can even say a proper thanks, he closes the door behind him and rushes off to help man the ship, you guess. With a little sigh, you drop the one bag on your bed, and sit down next to it. Sehun follows your lead, though he stays standing on his side of the room, with a little frown.

“Your Highness. I’ll go find myself a place downstairs, do not worry. And maybe I can get the quartermaster to apologize for the mistake as well.” He turns away to start unpacking your stuff, mumbling quietly to himself, but loud enough for you to catch it. “A guard and a Princess sleeping in the same room, ridiculous.”

You pause to think for a moment, hearing the waves rushing past at an almost timed speed, again and again. Paired with the creaking of the ship and the muffled sound of voices, sounds entirely foreign, and yet you find a joy in it. You, a Princess, on a gigantic ship called the May Terror, it’s comical at best. “Actually,” you say, “if you don’t mind, I’d rather have you here.” Sehun’s eyes are big as saucers when he turns to look over his shoulder at you. “It’s unconventional, I know, but I don’t know anyone else here, and I’d take a great comfort in having you here. Besides, it’s not like the King and Queen would even find out.”

After a long pause, your friend nods, though hesitation is still marked in his eyes. “Of course, your Highness, if that’s what you wish for.”

“It is,” you confirm, getting up to take out one of your dresses. It’s a much lighter fabric that the traditional one you’re used to wearing, which means it’s infinitely more expensive, but it doesn’t look it. Besides, it’s hot down here, the air smothering. A lighter dress would do you well. When Sehun notices your stance, he immediately looks away.

“I’m waiting outside.” With that he runs off and shuts the door behind him, while your giggle follows. Sehun should probably also change. You’re not sure if he brought anything but the bare essentials though. Maybe he could borrow from Jongdae. You lay the dress down on the bed and stare at it for a second, taking in it’s pale pink color, as well as the form-fitted silhouette. Modern craftsmanship at it’s finest. If you were to wear this inside the palace though… well— safe to say you just wouldn’t wear it in the palace. Your mom and your older sister would both have your head.

You reach behind you to loosen the tied lints of your corset, fiddling with them until they come apart, and lay it down next to you on the bed, to disrobe entirely. Despite what some people might think, you actually don’t get dressed by maids every day, so you’ve gotten quite good at taking off your clothes without wrinkling them. The intricately embroidered dress is put aside and replaced by the pretty, empire waisted dress. It’s light, made of countless layers of sheer linen and entirely too “modern” for someone of your status, but this place makes you feel daring. You slip it on quickly, and sigh because it’s gorgeous, like you expected it to be. But Gods, does it show the entirety of your ankles. You’ll just have to live with it, you suppose.

“Sehun,” you call out then, hoping that he’s still waiting in the hall, “please come help me lace up! I can’t do it on my own.” This is true, of course, you think as you situate the corset back into place, but this way you can also check the reaction of your friend before going out into the real world. If he truly thinks it too much, you might just have to suffer through the heat. Sehun enters after two swift knocks, and sighs.

“It’s really dark in that hall, they should place some candles or — something.” He trails off, before blinking a couple of times. You motion for him to lace up your support and to your luck, he does so without thinking twice about it. “I won’t say anything about it, your Highness,” he says as he pulls the piece to your usual tightness, “but if your parents would know what you’ve been up to already, and the ship has barely left the port?” He doesn’t need to continue that sentence, because you both know you’d be in massive trouble.

“But they won’t know, now will they?” You respond, relaxing when Sehun ties the lints easily. “Now, I’ll go ask Jongdae if he has something to lend that you can wear. You’ll overheat if you keep walking around in uniform like this.”

Sehun snorts, but lets you do what you want. He’s known you for long enough now to realize that you will do what you want to do, whether there is someone to stop you or not. “Let’s get up to the cabin, then,” he grins. “If I you don’t get followed around by every man on the ship, that is. You know, I thought you were going on this trip to get away from the prospect of marriage, not to gain your own harem.”

“I heard that all girls dress like this in the smaller towns, actually.” You push open the door with a huff, already walking towards the stairs. “Your lack of fashion knowledge proves that you’ve never been outside the Capital before, Master Sehun.”

“And you have?” He laughs when you send him a little glare, but follows behind at a polite distance. When you get back on deck, the wind is much more wild then it was in port. You lean over the barricade as far as you can, mouth dropping open when you look behind you. Aoran already looks tiny from here, the white of smaller sails looking like little specks in the distance. Everything looks so green from this far out. The waves of the sea smash against the sides of the ship, small drops flying up high enough to reach your face. “Have you ever seen anything that beautiful, Sehun? Look at the city.”

He nods, staring at the view much like you are. “The world is so much bigger than you realize when you’re always locked up indoors.” And right he is. You feel so small in the wake of it all. Trailing behind this first ship are two more, smaller in size but impressive nevertheless, all with the same design as this one. Not wanting to disturb anyone working on deck, you decide to follow Jongdae’s command and make your way to the main cabin as soon as possible, while Sehun decides to explore the ship further. When you knock and push open the office door, you’re surprised by how spacious the room is. The Captain is stood bent over the massive map, as Jongdae sits slouched comfortably in a chair by the window.

“Hope I’m not intervening,” you mumble softly, as the door falls into lock behind you.

Jongdae smiles, getting up to motion you over. “Not at all, princess. We’re just trying to predict what route to sail, is all.” You nod in understanding, as Lilith gives you a small smile of acknowledgement. “You said you’ve never been on a ship before, right?”

“Right.”

“Have you ever seen any other place but the Capital, your Majesty?” the Captain then asks, frown deep set on her visage, as you lift your shoulders.

“I saw Aoran for the first time a few hours ago, if that tells you anything. I mean,” you trail your finger over the map slowly, where Aking is just barely visible on it, “there’s large forests around the city, and mountains that you can walk up for days without getting to the other side. I’ve seen some of those places on outings before, briefly. But real cities, I’ve only ever read about.” The two sailors share a glance when you talk. “Not that I’m ungrateful for my position, of course. I have it much easier than most people. But that’s also partly why I wanted to join this journey. I want to be involved in my nation’s trade, I want to know who we’re trading with. Want to know what people go through, you know.”

Jongdae nods, before putting a hand on your shoulder. “I think that’s you’re doing a pretty good thing then, your Highness.” You mouth a ‘thank you’, before aiming your gaze back at the map. Lilith maps out points with a definite ease, she must have done this many, many times before after all. “Well, let me show you then,” Jongdae suddenly says, pulling you around to the other side of the table. “Our first stop will be this island. There’s a small town there called Caryon, where our food and water gets refilled for the rest of the journey. It’s the biggest of a couple islands here, as you can see. But unlike most other islands in this area, Caryon is under the nation’s control. If you have a need for anything, be sure to ask before we leave there. We’re meant to arrive around tomorrow evening, by sundown. Then we dock there until morning to resume our travels.”

“What about the other islands?” you ask, looking over at Jongdae as he easily explains. Jongdae too, looks at total ease on the ship. You wonder how long he’s been sailing for, but don’t ask. If he’s from Aking, something that seems likely considering his appearance and gesturing, something must have happened to turn him into a seafarer. People from the Capital don’t just become sea folk. Not like he is.

“What about the other islands?” he repeats.

“Well, you said, unlike the other islands, Caryon is owned by the nation. Who own the other islands?” You can barely finish your sentence or the Captain clears her throat, standing up straight. The two experienced sailors don’t say anything for a few seconds, before someone moves. Captain Lilith turns then, takes a glass and fills it to the brim with peach wine, a drink highly prized even in Aking. She offers it to you, and sighs.

“Just no-good chums, sugar plum. Don’t worry too much about them, we’re not planning to run into them anyway.” She wraps your fingers around the cup and then softly gestures you towards the door. “Why don’t you enjoy a bit of the sun and the wind, outside, ay? It’s a nice day out, and you’ll be stuck inside for too long when it starts getting cold out. Faring North tends to have that effect.” As if to confirm her words, Jongdae nods and gives you a wink.

“Captain’s right, Princess. I’ll let you know when you can help, okay? For now, you should probably experience your first boat ride from a better place than inside this dusty, old office.” With a slight pout, you nod, and bow as you head back out. The sun still hangs high in the sky, and the crew is easily bustling with a life of it’s own, laughing and talking as they do their jobs. The wind in the sails makes them bulge like reeds in the wind. As you sip your wine, you take in the view. The city that was once visible on the horizon behind now is gone, swallowed entirely by the waves, making way for an endless ocean to stretch out. It seems just as vast as the night sky, without edges to contain it on any side. You wonder if you’ll be able to count stars on the surface of the ocean when evening comes. You hope you can.

     🌊🌊🌊    

Your hands wrap around the cold game pieces again, tossing them onto the table with an attentive gaze. The ship bobs back and forward without purpose, as you reach to the side and watch the man in front of you work. He topples one of the bone runes, and then another. The game is kind of confusing, and you absolutely suck at it, but it’s entertaining anyway. The man across you plays easy, you can tell by the rolling of the eyes of the crew behind him. “Put that one forward,” Sehun mumbles to you, pointing at the piece with the number three. Cato, that’s what the blond in front of you is called, nods and points at the piece too.

“Good move,” he says. So you push it forward a square, and smile when Cato hands you a silver coin as a reward. “Congrats, your Highness.”

“You let me win.” Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see it in the glint in his eyes.

He shakes his head dramatically though. “I wouldn’t dare.” You don’t believe it one bit. “Well, thank you for this game, Princess. I’ll be heading back up though, my break is done.” Cato is a junior officer, in charge of the naval provisions and making sure the food is all accounted for. He’s nice, he offered you a biscuit earlier. With a bow, he stands from the table and puts on his vest. “I best take my leave before the Captain has my head on a stick.” The blond smiles at your expression. “Metaphorically, of course.”

“Or literally,” a guy laughs behind him, as you look on in surprise. “You know what they say, Cato.”

“Aye,” the other responds, placing his hat on his head.

You don’t though, and frown in question. “What do they say?”

Cato laughs off your confused frown, and rests his hands on his belt with ease. “They say that the Captain is the daughter of a giant and the ocean Goddess. I wouldn’t know though,” he smiles, “I’ve never asked her. It would make a lot of sense if you think about it.” You don’t know much about giants, but if anyone is the daughter of one, you believe it to be Lilith. And she does carry herself with the confidence you expect from a goddess’ child. “I’ll play you later, if I get the chance. And I won’t go easy on you that time.” You nod at that, laughing softly.

As you wave Cato out, the loud bell signalling your departure sounds out of the blue, the ringing rushed. It lasts a really long time. The two crewmen left in the hull look up at the sound of it, while glances are exchanged between all of you. They seem just as confused with the signal as you and Sehun are, which is much more concerning than the sound itself. Shouting seems to come from up top, ringing through the depth of the ship. The men get up and rush out the way Cato left, leaving only you and your friend left behind in the confusion.

“Uhm, what’s going on?” you question, asking no one in particular, glancing at Sehun with wide eyes. He is entirely as lost as you are, looking more like a sailor himself instead of a guard in the new clothes he borrowed. The shouting doesn’t stop, and you take this as a signal that something is wrong. “We have to go check up deck,” you say. Sehun attempts to hold you back by your dress but you’re up and through the door before he gets the chance to, rushing down the abandoned halls. The shouting gets louder and louder the higher you get, indicating your guess to be correct. Whatever is causing the ruckus is an unexpected and unwelcome one. When some of the crew scramble down the stairs in a hurry, you flatten yourself to the wall to let them pass and continue up, ignoring Sehun when he calls for you.

You get upstairs slightly disoriented, the sun bright compared to the dim inside, even though the sky colors orange and yellow. People are scuffling all around you, as you heave yourself out of the indent of the stairs and onto deck. Someone dressed entirely in black almost runs into you, choosing to push you aside instead. You frown but don’t let this stop you. As you get up from the deck you look around the tangled mess for anyone you recognize. And sure enough. Jongdae stands far behind you, sword in hand and fighting off the person that opposes him. When he spots you, his eyes widen, as he uses his free hand to motion ‘no’ over and over again. You can hardly run back to the stairs though, watching the rest of the crew storming up them, armed with swords and shields. Jongdae overpowers the other man and kicks him in the gut, before pushing him overboard with a grunt. 

While you’re distracted with all of this, someone grabs for your arm, holding tight. Sehun. He says something in words so rushed you don’t get to make them out, but sounds angry without question. You point over to the stern of the ship. “Jongdae’s over there.” Sehun pushes you behind him, and makes his way over there slowly but surely, avoiding strangers that get in your way. The quartermaster runs to meet you halfway, pushing another stranger out of the way in the process, as you blink around you in confusion, clinging to your friend. “What’s going on?” you yell over the noise. Jongdae wipes some blood from his cheek with his sleeve. You don’t know if it’s his or someone else’s, and it doesn’t really seem like the time to ask. You’re so lost at the situation. Both parties drop to the floor like flies, marking the spotless deck with stains of red.

“Pirates,” Jongdae breathes, gaze dark. He takes the smaller knife out of his belt to hand it to Sehun, before hiding the both of you behind him to make his way through the invaders. It’s hard to make out who is who in the mess of it, so you just cling to Sehun as you can’t do anything but watch. People getting pushed overboard, and others getting stabbed. Your stomach drops at the sight of it. To the side of the ship, you notice, is another boat, almost identical in size. It’s not a part of the fleet though, because the entire length of it is painted entirely black, with deep red sails that seem to have been doused in blood.

Jongdae comes back around to stay by you, something you find a lot more comforting. He seems to have found the Captain in the fighting, or they at least end up in the same place together when you look over at him. The woman slashes two men across their throats at the same time, the bodies falling overboard with a well-aimed kick. They fall in between the gap of your ship and the other, but just barely. “Captain!” Jongdae yells, glancing at her in worry. “Where’s the other ships?”

“I sent them ahead! These bloodsuckers are not getting a single coin today,” she roars back. She tackles another of the men and skewers him against the deck, viciously glancing around. Whatever she is, Goddess or not, you’d be terrified if you were fighting against her. She glances over her shoulder for just long enough to make you and Sehun out in the madness, and swears. “Get those two on a ship and out of here, Quartermaster!” Jongdae refutes almost instantly, but she doesn’t back down. “We are fine! They won’t keep fighting if enough of their men are injured. If she dies however,” another person gets speared to the floor, smacking their head into the deck hard enough to knock them out, “I won’t be responsible for the start of a war! Get her off my ship!”

Jongdae slashes another person down when they charge at you, before giving in with a swear. He pushes the two of you toward the back of the ship more, grabbing a hold of you. When he turns, you notice how much blood is on his face and ruining his white blouse. Blood runs out of his nose, though it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. “Run to the back and get your stuff, as fast as you can,” he says to Sehun, who nods and runs to the back immediately. “You,” he brings out, wiping the back of his hand over his face and smearing the blood all over his cheek because of it, “run into the Captain’s cabin and get a big bag. Fill it with food, money, and flasks of water, okay? I’ll protect the door. Go quick!”

Waiting for one of the Pirates to stumble away, you nod, doing your best to keep your eyes from watering. You didn’t even know pirates were a thing, let alone that they would attack you on sight. With the way towards the cabin relatively clear, you run over there as fast as you can, and push your full weight against the heavy door to open it. The door falls closed behind you, leaving you obstructed from the fight. If something were to happen to Jongdae or Sehun or the Captain, you wouldn’t even be aware of it until you got back out there. However, you don’t have time to think about that. You grab a big bag and do exactly as Jongdae asked, tossing everything in with shaky hands. A map, the small metal thingie the captain was using to mark places, you toss all of it inside. Three flasks of water, a heavy pouch of money, and all the fruit that was cleanly displayed on the dresser to the side.

The door creaks behind you as someone attempts to open it, but falls back into lock just as fast. Tingles of adrenaline crawl all over your skin, like small needles. When you’re done, you grab the thing in both arms and hoist it up to the best of your ability, but it’s heavy. You lean it against the wall to pull open the door, screaming as a person stumbles inside when you do. The pirate has a knife in his back though, the one Sehun had. “Come on!” your friend blurts when he notices you there, pushed against the wall as your only protection. He grabs the bag from you and pulls you through the door so fast you almost fall over your own feet. Jongdae is standing by the railing, and fights off another of the pirates. How many of these guys even are there?!

You arrive out of breath and with flushed cheeks, but don’t get time to pause. Sehun tosses the bag overboard, as you watch with wide eyes. “Sehun!” you start, before noticing the much smaller boat there to catch it’s fall. The bag lands with a loud thump, but the small rowboat stays afloat. Sehun climbs onto the other side of the railing without hesitating, and lowers himself down to the boat by the thick rope that Jongdae must have tied there at some point when you were inside. The ship is high though, and the waves suddenly don’t look nearly as calming as they once did.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Sehun says, “you can do it!” You climb onto the other side of the railing with shallow breaths, and start lowering yourself down the rope by clenching it in between your legs. It gives you some nasty rope burns. Before you can side down any further, your hands lose strength and slip. You fall the rest of the way, landing onto the side of the boat and almost flipping it. “By Idite’s name,” Sehun brings out, helping you into the boat properly. Your feet are wet and your hip hurts a lot, but apart from that you’re fine, and the boat luckily is intact. Now you just stare up at the edge of the ship and wait for Jongdae’s face to appear. It doesn’t, not for a long while, to the point where you both attempt to pull yourself back up to check for him, but to no avail.

Luckily, after another minute or so, he finally appears to look over the side of the ship, and climbs down with his sword still in hand. He lands easily, but stares guiltily to the ship as the small boat bobs with the motion of the waves. “We don’t have to leave, Jongdae,” you quickly say, feeling equally guilty. “I can hide, or fight!”

“No,” he says though, putting the sword down and grabbing the paddles, as Sehun grabs the second pair. “The fact that you think that just means that we have to leave. The Captain knows what she’s doing. She’ll meet us in Caryon, by tomorrow. Sit tight, Princess.” So you do as told, and sit down. But the entire time the boys row away from the atrocity that just happened, your eyes stay on the ship. You can’t see anyone on deck anymore. You don’t dare to ask if that’s a good sign, or a bad one.

You’ve been swaying with the stubborn movement of the waves for at least an hour now, staring into the distance where the ship has vanished into the fog for ages already. It’s getting later and later, and the ocean is getting exponentially dark as time goes on. Not much more now, and you’ll be surrounded entirely by darkness. The idea that that can happen is terrifying. Aking is never entirely dark, even at night. However, that seems like the lesser of your many problems. Jongdae peers to the front intently, on his knees and looking for something, though you don’t know what. Sehun seems to have taken it onto himself to count your items, most likely to fight away the silence. He doesn’t do well in complete silence, it lets his thoughts run entirely free and in situations like this, he’s never the best at staying calm.

After a while, you get more anxious by all the things and Sehun’s twitching, and turn around in the boat to watch Jongdae instead. He glances behind to catch your eye, and smiles a bit. His face is still not entirely clean of the blood, but he did his best to wipe most of it away, or at least you think he did. It’s hard to tell in the slumber of nightfall. As if sensing your total and complete loss at the situation, he cocks his head to the front. “The waves are too strong for a rowboat of this size. We’d just be burning energy and staying in place, trying to head for the main island.” That makes sense. A while ago, he told Sehun to stop rowing after all. You offered to take his place, but it would have been no use, he’d said.

“So where are we going now then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he nods, glancing at the stars and then at the map again. You don’t know how much use a map is when you don’t have a single thing to base your position off though, just water. Jongdae doesn’t seem scared by the ocean even in a situation like this, you admire that in him. “If we have a little bit of luck on our side, we’re still heading in the right direction. And with even a bit more of said luck, we’re coming up to land any second now.” He peers out into the distance again, fingers curled tight around the paper in hand. Sehun stops his mindless counting to join in your staring. It’s hard to see because of the fog. But sure enough, very faintly, like a small curve sticking out above the horizon, you see something that you just hope is land.

“Is that it, you think?” Sehun asks, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“It can’t be anything else,” the sailor confirms, which settles your nerves. Your heart still feels heavy though. At least you’ll be reunited with the Captain and her fleet. You worry about the crew, about Cato and all the other innocent people who might have gotten hurt in the attack. How didn’t you know about this? The Captain and Jongdae did, which means that it’s happened before. How many innocent people have been attacked by pirates to get rich folk some foreign fabrics? The possibility that your parents don’t know of this is scary, but it’s even scarier to think they do. That just means they don’t care. That’s not an issue for right now though, you decide.

“Is Caryon far from the beach?” you settle on asking, “how will we get there?”

But Jongdae makes a slight noise of disagreement, before looking back at you. “This isn’t the main island, your Highness. We’re still a few hours out of reach on this little boat.” He frowns, and shakes his head. “No, this is one of the smaller islands, one we normally choose not to stop at. It is not a place you wish to stay when you work for the Royal fleet. Ayusoshil.”

You sigh, and lean forward a little, grasping the sides of the boat. “What does that mean?”

“Thief’s Bay.” Jongdae doesn’t look away from the slight bump raised above the water as he talks. Sure enough, it already seems closer than it was before. 

“Charming name,” you bring out, which makes him snort.

“Very.” When you wait with shallow breaths to get even closer, you swear you can see a tiny light through the fog. It’s faint, but unmoving, and at least it’s something to base your position on. “Let’s row now,” he says, turning to face you in the boat, “we’re close.” Sehun nods and takes a hold back on the paddles, dropping your stuff back into the big bag that lays useless at the bottom of the boat. You can hear the waves raging in the distance, washing up against the islands like a vicious attack.

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The wind is cold against your skin, biting at the exposed parts of your body with razor sharp teeth, and though Sehun shelters the most of it by walking behind you, you feel weak. The sand hurts when it hits your face too. But Jongdae walks with a reasonable pace, and an optimistic attitude. The grass is long and wet, wrapping around your ankles as you scale the hill. The light you had seen from afar had been but a mirage, but Jongdae is sure that people actually live here, and that you should be coming up on them soon. The silence is broken by the sound of a bird in the distance. When you make it to the top of the hill you’re truly exhausted from the events of the day. “I told you!” the quartermaster sighs, relief brushing his features ever so softly.

Jongdae helps you up the last step and makes way for Sehun, before pointing towards the valley that spreads out in front of your eyes. Many torches burn in the darkness, flames fighting to stay ignited against the damp air. They reveal a few houses, with one large one in the center of the town, and lights that lead a path to the other side of the island, where you guess the ships are docked. “Oh, good Gods!” Sehun whispers, “I didn’t want to say it but I was worried we’d never arrive. I’m so tired, a good warm drink and I’ll be ready to go to bed.”

Jongdae stares for a while, before slowly walking down the hill, with the two of you following behind. “I don’t know if there’s an inn we can stay at, Sehun. I don’t even know if there’s anyone here who can help us. But it’s worth a try, at least.” He walks in front of you two by a few steps, and nods. “Let’s just be careful, though. And your Highness, if anyone asks,” he swallows then, eyes too serious as they regard you, “you are not a Princess starting from now, alright?” Though you don’t understand why, you nod. It seems to be really important to him.

When you finally arrive at the town, the bottom of your dress is colored a dark pink because of the wet grass. The streets are abandoned because of the nasty weather, you guess, partly wishful thinking. The main building you spotted from a distance looks old and worn, the wooden front colorless and bulging because of the elements, with yellow stained windows that are fogged up by the cold night air. “Here’s the plan,” Jongdae says, slowing his steps underneath the overhang of one of the much smaller buildings. They looked like houses from a distance, but it seems more like an abandoned storage house when you look at it now.

“The people that come here aren’t those favored by the nation. Some are probably criminals, some are most likely fugitives or other lot of that sort. And I can’t enter there without being denied immediately or worse,” he admits, “I should have brought some neutral clothing but — we were kind of in a rush to leave. It’s also not a good idea to enter there with your money on you, unless you want to be robbed the second you set foot in that place. So Sehun will stay here and hide behind this house with our things, and I’ll stand guard out here.” The wind whistles through the cracks of the building.

Sehun drops the bag to the floor for a second then, and raises his eyebrows. “All right, but then who will go inside to ask for help?” It stays silent for a while, before Jongdae’s gaze slides over to you. Sehun immediately shakes his head though. “No, no way. You can’t make the Princess of the Capital enter into a rat’s nest like that! What if something happens? She can stay hidden behind the building instead of me.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae frowns, “with all due respect, she can’t fight. You’re a guard, you have at least some fighting training. If we lose the money to thieves, we’re as good as dead. Then we’re never leaving here, and we wouldn’t have any reason for them to not kill us on the spot.” He sighs, and turns to you. His clothes are still entirely stained with blood. It would be best if he didn’t enter, you reason. He’s right, if he were to enter he’d immediately give away in how much trouble you really are. “You’ll have to do it, your Highness. I’m sorry.” Sehun opens his mouth to cut in again, but you place a hand on his arm.

“It’s fine, Master Sehun. I can do this.” You look to the floor then, and at the one bag full of everything you own. “I can do this,” you nod to yourself, before motioning to the biggest building. “I’ll try to hurry. Stay safe out here, please.”

“You too,” your friend says, frown still digging into his features in worry.

When you walk to the door by yourself, the night seems entirely quiet. Even the wind has ceased to reach this far down the valley, instead making way for a void where only the ocean is audible. You’re so used to the sound of it you almost don’t notice it anymore. The door is thick, and heavy-looking, like a piece of driftwood that was merely attached here out of ease. When you look behind again, the two guys have already moved to hide behind the building, so you take a deep breath to calm yourself, and then push hard against the door with your shoulder. The loud buzz of the room quiets when you enter, and tens of eyes turn in your direction. The men here look unfriendly to say the least. With unshaven faces, scarred arms, and sunken eyes. They seem to gleam at your arrival, but you will yourself to be brave.

The door falls shut with a loud sigh of the wood, bending under the pressure. “Does anyone here have a ship?” you ask, looking around the room and briefly at the fire that burns wildly in the fireplace. It stays silent for a while, so you sigh, and bite your lip. “Or does anyone here have a ship, who can speak Home Tongue?” Your reading ability might be pretty great, but you’re far less equipped to speak a language you’ve never even heard before. Some men talk among each other when again no one responds. Then, with the sound of metal being dropped and some ruffling, the group of men to your right move apart to reveal one of the few tables of the place, and the person sitting at it.

“I do,” he says, voice deep and full, with a slight bit of raspiness. When his eyes move from the grain of the table to meet yours, you pause to take a deep breath, and link your hands behind your back. The man seems to radiate cold from every fiber of his body, bringing a baring panic that is laced into the color of him. Though his skin tone is far from pale, it seems icy, just like the slight curl of his lips. His eyes are dark and piercing, though he’s dressed entirely in white. The many piercings that he has are delicate, and his posture casual. But maybe the most peculiar part is his hair, since it’s so much shorter than you’ve ever seen anyone wear. It is not only weird to cut your hair in your culture, it’s almost like you’re cursing at the Gods directly. “Well?” he asks, sounding bored.

“Good,” you just respond, taking a few steps closer to him. His men come to stand behind you, closing off the entrance with their bodies. You feel entirely uncomfortable turning your back to them, but you don’t really have a choice. “Me and some friends were on a fishing trip, but it seems a storm snuck up on us and we got stranded here. We would really like to get back to Caryon by tomorrow, or people will start to worry.” You pause for a second to check his reaction. But the man barely moves, just blinking a little. “I can pay you.”

“Can you, now?” he responds, straightening up in his chair. He rests his hands on the table for a bit, before toying with the glass on the table. “So a storm caught you off guard, and now you need to get out of here?” he repeats, not looking at you while he speaks. It doesn’t look like he’s looking at anything really, rather staring through the creaky, old planks of the floor into nothing.

You squeeze your own hand out of nerves and ignore the breathing of the men behind you, too close for comfort. “Yes, Sir.”

He smiles. Wide and mischievous, it curls on his lips into a heart, making him look younger than you expect him to be. It’s a pretty smile. But despite that, it sends a shiver down your spine. Smoothly, he leans back in his chair, and props his feet up on the table. Polite. His eyes find yours for just a few seconds from under long lashes, before flicking away at his surroundings. “I’ve never seen fishers before with clothes like that. Very pretty.” It’s like he doesn’t even want to look at you, like you couldn’t pose a threat if you tried. Your gaze hasn’t left his shape once for the opposite reason. He seems volatile, flammable and if you’ve learned anything of people like this, it’s to keep close watch on them.

When he gestures vaguely in your direction, you actively have to break that rule to look down at yourself. Your corset is bedazzled all over with small, shiny crystals that shimmer in the light of the fire, with thin threads and exquisite craftsmanship. Even the dumbest of people would be able to tell it to be of value, but you take solace in the fact that there are plenty of families rich enough to afford things like this. He wouldn’t be able to track you back to the royal house with just this. “You seem like a smart girl,” he sighs, with a nonchalance and a slight tick of his jaw. The rest of his crew keep their eyes on you, increasing levels of curiosity. “How about you tell us your name, huh?”

He takes clear pleasure in the doubt you express, dark eyes gleaming with the gold light of an inferno. Like a lion, exchanging glances with his prey. As if he’s asking to be dared, wants to have a reason to light up this room and tie you to the floor with it. You’re determined not to let him though. With a small nod, you take another step forward, and place your hands on the table. “It’s Clem,” you say, voice sturdy as much as you can get it in a situation like this. You only straighten up when he looks at you again, sighing deeply. “Now, can you help us or not, Captain?”

He lifts a brow and grins again, looking over at his crew. “You seem very sure about your chances here, little girl. I assure you that I’m not normally very kind to strangers who impede on my territory, though.” He stands up from his chair then, leaning forward on the table like you had seconds before, and bringing his sword up from his belt to have the blade rest against your throat. It’s perfectly sharp, dragging lines into your soft skin every time you shake. Both from the cold and the nerves. “You have some guts to come in here all alone and demand something from me so confidently.” The breath you take is shaky against the cold metal, but you clench your teeth and do your best to fight through.

“Not confident, just desperate,” you gasp.

He now pauses, expression freezing over within seconds. Then, slowly, he drags the tip of the sword down your throat and leaves it to press under your collarbones, thin skin almost revealing blood. “Then what makes you think that I won’t kill you here, right now, and find your little friends after that. It seems to me a lot more profitable to just get rid of you all together, and still take your silver for myself.” Some of the men chuckle at that, like threatening a person is a normal part of their routine.

“You won’t,” you breathe. This seems to amuse him greatly.

“Want to bet your head on that, rich girl?”

Despite the blazing fire in the room, your body is cold, and your muscles weak. You might as well. “You won’t kill me, because if you wanted to do that, you would’ve by now.” His eyebrow twitches a little at your voice, sword becoming increasingly painful on your skin. “Now, I might not know much about you or anyone in this room, but I bet you’re all here for the same reason. You believe in rules that the world doesn’t adhere to, and you think that you can do better on your own, out here in the middle of nowhere. I believe in that too.” The room feels thick with the eyes that are aimed at you like throwing swords at your head, but you don’t dare stop. At least, as long as you’re talking he doesn’t get the chance to scare you out of it. “But if you truly feel that way and you’re willing to die for it, then don’t play around like unknowing, little children. Prove that you are better than what you’re running away from.” A long, tense pause. You don’t think anyone breathes, because the room is entirely dead quiet.

In one smooth move, the sword is away from your skin, and slid back into his belt. His heavy gaze stays on yours for a second longer, before he makes his way through the men and to the door with weighted steps. “The smart mouth can live, for right now,” he brings out, taking the white jacket that matches his other clothes and draping it over his shoulders. “Baekhyun, bring her and her foundlings to the beach in a bit. The rest of you, go man our godforsaken ship before the wind changes again.” When the door is pulled open, it carries in waves of cold, and the howling of the wind through the frame. He turns over his shoulder once to give you a one over, and tuts. “Oh, and if she opens her little trap again, you kill ‘em where they stand. Understood?”

“Ay ay, Captain,” it sounds from across the room, almost sung with amusement. The idea of talking so casually about death makes you sick to your stomach. It’s like none of them have seen death before, like they don’t believe in the concept of it. But before you can say anything else, or want to, he leaves the house and disappears into the dark night, taking most of the men with him. You stare until the door slams shut with a lot of noise, before letting out a deep breath. The place where his sword was pressed is painful when you brush your fingers over it. “So what have we here,” the same voice sounds from behind you, slipping around you too fast to keep up. When you look over your shoulder, he’s already in front of you, and turns your face to meet his with a hold on your jaw. “What a curious little fish who washed up on our beach,” he grins.

“I didn’t wash up on your beach, I washed up on the other side of the island,” you bring out, pulling your face from his hold and frowning at him. The man in front of you also has relatively short hair for a citizen of any city, with smiley features and a bright grin. He’s beautiful as well, eerily so, with silvery eyes that glint with glee. He seems to light up at your attitude, and brings his face uncomfortably close to yours while he inspects you.

“I should really stab you for that,” he brings out, voice playful, “but I quite like a bit of bite in my ladies. So you’re free to do so, for as long as I’m around. Isn’t that kind?” His back is turned to you but his gaze is over his shoulder at you, as he holds his sword in his hands behind his back. You just glare at him and don’t respond, which makes him laugh. One of the men who didn’t go with the Captain pours a bucket of sand onto the fire, effectively putting it out. The other, Baekhyun you guess, tosses him a piece of silver, and then glances back at you. 

When he notices your gaze on him, his smile grows. “So, let me guess about you, little fish. I think you’re the second daughter of some sort of high ranked citizen in the Capital who sent you out, right? Your storm story is complete garbage, there were no storms anywhere near here. So the people who are with you are most likely a brother, cousin or friend who was sent with you for support, and the person who was supposed to ferry you over, right? You’re one of those librarians they sent every once in a while, right, one of those girls?” You again, don’t respond, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “I always wondered why they only send girls. My guess is they offer one to the gods every few months.” He smiles as he places the point of his sword against your lower back. “Guess you’ll find out, huh. Now walk, unless you want to get skewered.”

You walk to the door under his tight surveillance, and pull it open with both hands, goosebumps covering your every inch in the cold night air. Baekhyun hums a melody as he walks behind you, steering you towards the dirt road and out of the light that peeks through the small windows of the inn. “So what are you,” you start, staring out into the night to see of any sign that might reveal your friends, “you’re pirates, right?” Baekhyun doesn’t really respond for a bit, so you slowly start moving into the direction you came from, and wait for a sign. But as you think that, a doubt makes it’s way through you. Jongdae is still in his same uniform, unmistakably an ally of the Capital and if these men find that out, things don’t look good for his safety. You stop in the middle of the road as you think, suddenly unsure about this whole idea. You’ve got a sword pressed to your back, for the Gods’ sake. 

“I guess that’s what they call us, yes,” he admits, halting when you do. You can feel his statue behind you, unwavering. What now?

“But you’re not?”

This makes him laugh, a bright, chilling sound in the silence of the abandoned island that sounds much too genuine. “Oh no, we definitely are. It just doesn’t sound very nice, does it? ‘Pirates’, like we’re out to hurt every single person in the whole wide world, murder in cold blood. Thief would be kinder, I think.” You can’t help but wonder how sane this man truly is, if he thinks being called a thief would be any better. In old tales, thieves end up with their heads being bitten off in the night. When you still don’t move, Baekhyun presses harder against the sword, urging you forward. “What are you waiting for, little fish? If you want your request fulfilled, you’ll have to move and get your friends.”

“How can I trust that you won’t kill us and take our money?” you bring out, gathering some of your dress in your both hands to step into the long grass.

“You can’t.” Baekhyun sighs deeply, and then hums again, the same tune. After a second of walking, you pause, and turn to face him. “What?” he blinks, staring at you with a teasing look. His eyes are lined with a black that makes them seem sunken in, and almost impossible to read in the darkness. This of course, is true. But you can’t help but feel that if they were planning on killing you, they would’ve done so by now, and twice over. You just hope this man is loyal enough to his Captain to follow the order of bringing you to the ship, alive. You don’t have another choice, or the Royal fleet will leave without you.

You take in a deep breath, and hold back a frown as best as you can. Here goes nothing. “I was going the wrong way, the sword held to my spine must’ve confused me.” At the raise of his eyebrows, you breathe out. “I’m sorry, it’s that way instead.” Baekhyun tilts his head to the side, before shrugging and lowering his sword entirely, a small grin crawling up to his lips, triumphant. He cocks his head to motion you to lead the way again, hands settling around his belt. The casual way in which he does it only seems to prove again that he doesn’t consider you a threat. So either he’s dumb and cocky, or he genuinely has no reason to be worried. You don’t really know which you’d prefer.

You speed your steps a bit as you return in the way you just walked, and towards the house you left your friends at. Baekhyun trails behind leisurely, the gravel crunching under his feet with each step. As you peek around the back of the house, relief fills your body. Sehun is pressed to the wall of the building, his eyes wide as he stares at your sudden appearance. Jongdae lowers his sword and smiles at you, as you let out a breath. “You’re not dead,” Sehun cleverly says, which makes you laugh.

You nod, and let your dress fall back to it’s normal length, smoothing it out with small movements. “Good news, I found us a way to Caryon. Uhm, bad news—” you say, falling silent when Baekhyun shows up beside you, face lit up with curiosity.

“Hi there.” He looks the two men up and down, before huffing a little and putting out his hand toward the sword in the other’s hand. “I’ll take that.” The frown on Jongdae’s face is clear, but he agrees with the man almost instantly. He too seems to know that in this state, he’d lose a duel, even if you have the majority here. “You look to be in seriously bad shape,” he nods in the quartermaster’s direction, taking in the blood stains and the intricate stitchings of the shirt, “and from a much more prestigious ship than a small fisher boat.” A big grin comes to kiss his lips. “You know, you’re a really bad liar,” he says, turning back to you. Jongdae’s sword is slid into his belt, as he motions his own at the three of you to guide you toward the beach. “I guess you’re lucky I worship the Goddess Manto. We’re big enthusiasts of any form of drama, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” you bring out, as you grab Sehun’s arm and trail behind the pirate, who walks backwards toward the beach. Many of the royal palace worship that same goddess, and you are sure to know that they most definitely enjoy a good bit of conflict and theater. The walk down the narrow path happens mostly in silence, with the humming of the leading man carrying through the emptiness of the valley. The island isn’t that big, it seems, because you reach the beach sooner than expected. “I’m sorry to say,” you suddenly begin, hesitating for a second when Jongdae catches your eyes, “but you seem quite casual for a pirate.”

Baekhyun laughs, ringing loud as he walks, and turns back to look at you. “How so?”

“I was under the assumption that pirates were more… ruthless, maybe.” You smile a little when Sehun squeezes your arm under his.

“Would you like me to be?” the raven-haired pirate asks, raising his eyebrows. When you shake your head ‘no’, he smiles. “We are when we need to be, I think. Captain definitely is not one for small talk like I am, I guess you would find him ‘ruthless’ more so then me, in the simple sense of the word. But he doesn’t enjoy suffering as much as I do, either.” When he faces you this time, it’s with a smile that you can only describe as dangerous, one of a person needing desperately to play games. “I like seeing a body curl into unnatural shapes with pain,” he admits. You quiet when he doesn’t say more, and look away from the pirate to glance at the busy back and forth of the indistinguishable shapes near the water edge.

The ship is about as big as you think the May Terror was, though hard to tell from this far away. People are loading large boxes up into it. As you get close enough, you can see the ship in it’s full glory. Though it doesn’t have the same glamour as the royal fleet did, there’s a definite air that surrounds it. Like the ship allows only awe to be pulled from you. The ship is made of dark wood that has grayed in the sun, and giant, white sails. Baekhyun grins as he comes to a stop, poking Jongdae with his sword. “Up, up, my seafaring friend. We’ll have to get you onto the ship without the Captain seeing, after all.”

“Why are you helping us if you’re so against the Capital?” you bring out at that, glaring when he jabs Jongdae between the shoulder blades.

“Well, because I really want to see this thing play out. Long journeys can be so terribly boring when we don’t have captives or any form of entertainment. The rest of them,” motioning at the men that walk around on deck above you, “are just following orders. And the Captain— just hope that he doesn’t find out before we load you off again. Maybe you’ll be able to run off as soon as we board, and just survive it.” With a smile he pushes Jongdae toward the plank, then Sehun and lastly you. As you walk up it, Baekhyun follows close behind, sliding his sword away. “You know… a kiss might make me consider trying harder to keep your secret from coming out, little fish.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch his smug grin, as you send him your hardest death glare. “Don’t dream of it, you sneaky, stealing— lowlife.”

“Ouch,” he pouts, “you wound me. Truly.” When you arrive on the deck, people are too busy manning the ship to really pay attention to you, though some eyes follow your group to the back of the ship. They walk around with candles and lanterns, giving just enough light to keep you from running into things. Baekhyun takes one of the candles and tosses open a door nearing the back of the cabin. “Down into there,” he points, to the dark hole that the door opens into. The ladder down is rickety, creaking under Sehun’s feet as he descends. 

You follow, wanting to get away from Baekhyun though not daring to remove your eyes from him. You quickly think of the Captain, and what he might do if he finds out that Jongdae is who he is, or worse, who you are. But then the last of your trio descends and Baekhyun is leading you around in the belly of the ship, past food stocks and even past the beds of crew until you reach a little corner. There’s a small space left there, with ropes and barrels taking up most of the space. “Here we are,” Baekhyun nods, squishing you in one by one, “pleasure having you on board, and thank you for sailing the world’s grandest pirate ship. I do have to tie you up now. Don’t want you getting any ideas, of course. Oh!” He suddenly exclaims, dramatic as ever, “and I need our money.”

You pause for a bit to think, locking eyes with Jongdae and Sehun before nodding. “Alright. We’re paying you half now, and the other half when we arrive in Caryon, safe and unharmed.” When Baekhyun giggles, you swallow, and cross your arms over your chest. “I think that’s only fair, considering our situation. And I’m staying untied, also.” The black haired man cocks his head to the side with a smirk, before looking behind him and back.

“If that makes you feel any better, sure.”

Before you have to ask, Sehun reaches into the bag without taking his eyes off of the pirate, and takes a handful pieces of silver to hand him. “You can try to cheat us or steal from us before we arrive,” he mumbles, “but this is all we have. You’ll be disappointed by your win if you do.” You nod along, watching Baekhyun as he slides the money into his pocket with a smooth move. Now just to hope that he doesn’t take it all for himself. Jongdae seems to be strangely quiet, leaning against the wall with a frown on his handsome visage. Maybe he’s thinking the same you are. A pirate isn’t to be trusted.

“Alright, pretty boy, quiet down. If I wanted to steal from you, you wouldn’t have that bag anymore, or your hands, alright? I won’t keep being as civil as I’ve been if you keep accusing me.” True to his word, he ties each of your arms behind your backs, leaving one of your hands untied. You are all tied to the barrels then, as Baekhyun gives you a small bow. His grin has yet to leave his face, and you can’t help but think that this is his normal expression. With his free hand he gives you a little wave, walking back in the direction of the ladder. “Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the rats bite. I’ll see you all in the morning. Or before that, who knows.” With a loud laugh, he climbs back up to the deck, slamming the door shut. It falls into lock with a grinding, metal noise. Most likely a lock of sorts.

When the silence comes for the first time since maybe an hour ago, you slide down the side of the barrel to sit on the floor, grabbing at the bag near your feet. Sehun and Jongdae are already seated, their hands tied tight behind their backs. Poor them. You guess he didn’t feel the need to tie you up because he thinks you can’t fight, and sadly, he’s right in that assumption. Instead of dancing or singing, they should have given you fencing lessons, at least you’d be able to make yourself useful now. “I’ve just doomed all of us, haven’t I,” you breathe, looking at the both of them. Your eyes are still adjusting since Baekhyun left you behind in total darkness.

Sehun opens his mouth to answer, but settles on squeezing your arm softly instead, and rests into you a bit. It must be terrifying to him too, though he doesn’t admit it. Jongdae stays quiet for a long while, like he’s trying to sort through all his thoughts, before finally sighing deeply. “No, you did well. I’ve dealt with pirates before and I was hardly as helpful as you were. I mean, we’re tied up, but on our way to Caryon at the very least. That’s more than we had an hour ago.” Count on him to be full of optimism even in the dark, dim depths of a pirate ship.

“Jongdae?” you call again, waiting for his small hum, “what happens to you if they find out that you’re part of the royal fleet? What if Baekhyun lied, and he’s tells the Captain at this very moment or at any point during the trip? I don’t trust him.” Sehun seems troubled by this thought too. You don’t want anything to happen to him. He saved you before, and even if he didn’t, you’d want him to be okay more than anything.

A tiny smile comes to his lips, but you can tell it’s not very genuine, or self-assured. “I don’t know, Princess. Let’s just hope they don’t find out before we arrive.” When silence falls, every crack of the wood or whisper of the wind sounds loud, and you have a hard time letting go of thoughts. Despite this, the call of sleep catches up to you after a while. In the cold belly of the ship you sleep, resting against Sehun’s shoulder as you sink into a dreamless night.

     🌊🌊🌊     

You’re awoken by the sound of many feet on the deck above, and the faint sigh of the heavy door being pushed open. Cold, salty air blows down into the belly of the ship and fills your lungs, a much needed breath of fresh air. Sehun is already awake when you glance over at him with heavy lids, Jongdae awakening from slumber much like you. “They are coming down,” Sehun mumbles, and he’s right. Heavy boots stomp down the ladder, past the load of food and past the beds. They are coming for you guys.

“We can’t have arrived this soon already,” Jongdae mumbles, which makes your heart sink to your toes. If they’re not here to get you off their ship, then why are they?

Two men drag you up by your tied arms before you can say anything to your friends, yanking you through the rooms under loud mumbling from the other crew, as you struggle to stay upright. They don’t even allow you to climb up yourself entirely, instead dragging you up by your shoulders the last bit. You’re led to the middle of the deck, and pushed down onto your knees without a second thought, with Sehun and Jongdae following the same path. Sehun is dumped down with a harsh shove that sends him on his side, and winces when he lands onto his shoulder. You do your best to help him up with your tied hands, looking around. The waves are wild today, ship anchored in the middle of nowhere. Though the sun is out, the weather is chilly, leaving you with the hairs on your body raised.

Feet click on the wood, shoes decorated with metal that gleams in the first light of the morning. The person halts in front of you three, barely acknowledging you as humans in their own right. Dust blows into your face, but you don’t look away. The man of last night sighs with the same stone cold attitude he carried then, before squatting down and taking a hold of Sehun’s face to yank it up into view. When his stained fingers grab at your friend you clench your teeth, but hold your tongue. Now’s not the time to talk back, you know this. His dark eyes flick to yours for just a second, before he surveys the young man. After a little while, all under the judging eyes of the crew, he moves away from your friend to do the same with Jongdae.

“Tell me,” he clicks his tongue, before looking between all three of you again, “where’s the rest of your men and women?” He trails his finger over the colorful emblem on Jongdae’s shoulder as he waits, but none of you answer. Only the wind can be heard over the rushing of the ocean waves. The small emblem is that of your family, your home so far away by now, it’s yellow and blue clearly recognizable. You don’t know how they found out, but you can only guess that someone talked to the Captain. But as you look around, you don’t see Baekhyun under the men. “Is my question unclear to you?” the man in white breathes, glancing at you with a fire in his eyes, like that of the burning sun.

You curl your legs to the side to push yourself from the wood, and glare back at him. But before you can say much of anything, Jongdae pushes himself up from the deck as sits on his knees, hands still hung uncomfortably behind him. His brow buries deep into his visage, the frown proof of his fighting spirit. “What men and women do you speak of, Sir, that we are supposed to know the location of?” Before he’s able to say any more, the Captain’s leather boot connects with his face. Jongdae collapses back against the deck, head hitting with a sharp thud. He winces, blood dripping on the floor.

You stare at the scene in horror, heart dropping all the way down to toes. “Do I look like I am wanting to play games?” the Captain asks, taking out his sword to twist it in the light of the sun. The sharp metal glints playfully in the beams of morning color. Jongdae just groans, and rolls onto his back, hands trapped under his body. His nose is bleeding, and bottom lip busted because of the impact, face paled. When no one responds, the man standing above you all clicks his tongue in disapproval, and lifts Sehun’s chin with the edge of his sword. The point makes a mark under his jaw, blood dripping down his neck. He trembles, catching your eyes for a flash before looking back at the Captain. And you see the fear in his eyes.

He didn’t want this, Jongdae didn’t want this. Only you did, and look at you now. The dark, cold eyes stay aimed at your best friend’s face for a while. “Tell me. Or I’ll cut into his pretty face over and over and over, until you can’t look at him anymore without feeling terror. Same goes for that capital scum.” Though the Captain doesn’t look at you, you feel the weight of the question on you. Your lip wobbles without your control, so you pull it between your teeth to keep it at bay.

“I don’t know where —” Another sharp kick to Jongdae’s face, this time connecting with his cheekbone so hard you think you hear it crunch. Jongdae’s head falls to the side, eyes flickering with pain and you can’t hold the tears that well up. “I’m sorry, I’m trying!” you yell at the standing man, and glare at him from under your lashes. His eyes are just as cold, though now they are unflinching on yours. His full lips open to let out a sigh, as he places the sole of his shoe on Jongdae’s face. “Just stop! Stop hurting him, he has nothing to do with this,” you repeat. Sehun’s eyes bore into the side of your head when the sword comes to press into your cheek instead, but you don’t look away. Can’t look away.

“I’ll ask one more time.” His deep voice unwavering, filled with a hatred that you can barely comprehend. How can a person have so much darkness inside them towards someone they don’t know? “Why are you traveling with this rat,” he motions toward Jongdae, “and what are you doing on my fucking ship?”

The sword presses hard enough to slice open the skin of your cheek, sharply burning like a fire. You breathe in deeply, and do your best to silence the cries that well up in his throat. But before you can muster up the courage to answer him, Jongdae huffs out a strained laugh. “Don’t.” His soft eyes glide over to you, and despite the blood and blooming bruises that mark his face, he doesn’t look scared. “Let him rot in his doubt.” Everyone quiets. Where before there were soft whispers running between the crew, now there’s a thick void. You look back up to the man dressed in white, taking in his quiet form. In those cold, dark eyes brews a storm that would terrify every mortal soul.

Then, ever so slowly, a smile starts creeping up to his lips, as he meets your eyes again. “Have you ever held a sword before, little girl?” A shiver runs between your shoulder blades at the softness of his voice. Tender almost, like he’s talking to a loved one. You shake your head into a minuscule ‘no’. “A sword is an honorable weapon. It kills quick. When on sea, there’s much more horrible deaths. Starving. Disease. Drowning.” He kneels gently before you, and looks only at you with that same smile that would bring comfort in any other situation. 

Right now, it looks like death itself. “I almost drowned, once. You can’t do anything but sink, holding your breath as long as you can. Longer than you ever have, until you feel like your head is going to burst. You can’t help but hold out until every single part of you quakes in pain. Your head bursting from the pressure. It’s agony. And then, when everything starts to fade, when you can’t hold out anymore, you open your mouth anyway. And it feels like hell. Filling your lungs to the brim, as you choke to death. It’s the longest, most painful death you can imagine.”

Your lips are still shaking. For the second it lasts, he seems truthful, entirely. A deep, suffocating sadness that is pulled from the deepest part of his soul, making it’s way onto his features. And it touches you, despite your anger and your fear. “That’s horrible,” you breathe. Because it is. The Captain nods, staring at you for a beat longer, and then he gets back up to his full height. Towering above you from where you sit motionless on the cold, hard floor. His voice is equally soft as he speaks again. 

“Throw the rat overboard.”

A darkness overtakes you at those words, dread bubbling up from deep inside. You flinch when the crew grabs hold of Jongdae by his arms, and glance between the three men in rapid succession. Blaring fear for the new friend who only wanted to help. The Captain doesn’t move a muscle when you look at him. The quartermaster now looks scared more than you’ve ever seen him, jerking in their hold as they drag his towards the edge. He fights with all his might, but to no avail, ignoring his words. They lift him over the wooden railing, and— “Stop!” you scream, “take me instead!” Your free hand wraps around the Captain’s ankle, grabbing his attention whether he wants it or not. The crew waits, Jongdae dangling halfway over. “It’s me you want, believe me. Throw me overboard instead. Please. I’m begging you.”

Finally, a sliver of emotion crosses his face, a frown pulling his eyebrows close together. “Did you not hear what I said? That right there is the most painful death you can imagine.”

“I heard you,” you say, letting go of his leg now to wipe your hand under your eyes, glancing over your shoulder at the bloodied face of Jongdae. He looks about ready to pass out from the stress and pain that he’s been put through. So you pull up your nose, and rub your eyes with the back of your hand again, staring into the Captain’s face. “And it sounds terrifying. But I don’t want anyone else to hurt because of me.” Sehun makes a noise of disagreement, but a hand comes over his mouth to shut him up, much to his displeasure. “You want Jongdae because he is of the Royal fleet, right? But I’m the Royal blood that fleet was carrying,” you admit. Sehun’s shoulders sag.

In one smooth motion, you’re pushed backward against the deck, sword back at your neck. The Captain’s eyes glint with anger, jaw tight as he looks you straight in the eye, your cheeks still red and burning up. This is the most emotion you’ve seen cross his face yet, anger dripping from him like tar. “What are you doing on a ship?!” he grunts, teeth clenched so hard they might shatter.

You smile pitifully, the open wound on your cheek pulling with the motion. “I wanted to see the world. Just once.” The wind whistles as it blows between the creaks in the wood, ocean waves slamming against the belly of the ship again and again, as you wait. Your breathing unsteady, heart slamming painfully hard against your rib cage. The metal gleams a pretty shade of orange under the rising sun, that you choose to watch instead of looking at the man above you.

After what feels like forever, the silence is finally broken. From the back of the group of men, a voice sounds out, strangely familiar. “They’d probably pay a nice sum if we bring her back unharmed, Captain.” Baekhyun moves from between the taller, burly men to reveal his sharp face, a slight smile on his lips as he catches the recognition on your face. His raven hair is damp, curling slightly as it falls over his eyes. His steps are smooth as he walks closer, not disturbed in the slightest by the hostile posture his Captain carries. His sword is still pressed to your neck. “I’m not sure about you, but I’d rather have her weight in silver than another stain to clean, Kyungsoo.” His grin only widens as he reaches forward, hand wrapping around the blade and slowly dragging it away from you.

“You dare push me too far, Baekhyun. I’m your Captain.” The man in white only sighs, before straightening and letting the sword drop from his hands into the other man’s, not acknowledging you in the slightest.

“Aye, but you’re also my best friend. So with all due respect, Captain,” the man grins so wide at the word that you barely believe he means it at all, “let me play devil’s advocate for once. If we bring this little fish to Caryon unscathed, we’ll be richer than we are now, and isn’t that what you told me pirates do? Rob the rich, give to the poor, more of that inspirational nonsense.” He squeezes his friend’s shoulder, the other already turning his back on you and walking between the crew, who plop Jongdae back down on the deck. 

“I’m the murderous, crazy one of us two. You’re the smart one.” The Captain, Kyungsoo, shakes his head at his friend’s antics, but clearly the words hit home in some way. When you let out a relieved sigh, Baekhyun grins down at you and pulls you back up to a seated position. Kyungsoo waves his hand dismissively, telling his men something that makes them spread out, as the dark haired one in front of you calls after him. “If they don’t give us a high enough price, you can still get your revenge! Drown her in a bathtub for all I care.” You’re not sure if he means it or not. It doesn’t matter, relief fills you all the same.

“Get back to work, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo responds, before disappearing into the cabin.

Baekhyun’s eyes glide from you, to Sehun, to Jongdae, all three of you slumped onto the deck from the stress. With two fingers, he brushes a loose strand away from your face. “There, there.” He stays squatted in front of you for a bit too long, staring down at you with those same gleeful, flickering eyes, like he doesn’t see the absolute terror you just went through as a bad thing. But still, he takes the flask of water you didn’t know he had, wetting a piece of fabric to press it to your cheek. Then he walks over to Jongdae, to cut loose his binds and helps him up, doing the same for Sehun. Some of the crew glance at you three while they work, but none seem surprised by Baekhyun’s behavior, which only serves to heighten your confusion.

As you stand up, you notice the sun has risen entirely above the sea now, gold and peach tones filling the sky. Your legs are shaky still, but you’re alive. And so are both men you came with. As soon as you realize this fully, you rush to embrace Sehun. His long arms come around you just as easily, breath still shaky against your cheek. He holds you for a long while, before stepping back to check your injury. You look over at Jongdae then, who has a grateful smile on his lips, holding himself up against the railing. And Baekhyun— he just stares at you and your best friend with an interest that you can only see as foreign. Like he’s watching a fascinating animal in it’s natural habitat. Still, when you catch his eyes, you bow at him. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

The man smiles, before tossing the flask towards you. You catch it, just barely. “I didn’t do it for you.” He bows back the slightest bit, before disappearing the same way Kyungsoo went. Leaving the three of you behind in confusion, as the day truly begins.

You haven’t seen Baekhyun or the Captain again, since they entered the cabin. Something you are grateful for, now that the shock has worn off. Sehun helped Jongdae back down into the belly of the ship not much after, to clean him up and settle him into rest. And while he wanted to stick close by you, you asked him to keep an eye out for Jongdae instead. He got the much shorter end of the stick after all. Now, with the sun still rising, the clean air has been abandoned by most for wine and music below deck. You run your hand over the railing as you walk the length of the ship, stilling once you get to the very front. In a couple of hours, you’ll arrive on the small island of Caryon. You hope to see some familiar faces soon, Lilith, or Cato, or anyone else.

The sea, though loud and wild earlier, has now settled into a softer shape, crashing open into millions of tiny droplets. You take a deep breath of the salty air, and lean your top half onto the wood, letting your arms dangle. Your body is tired, and muscles uncomfortable in their stretch. Your mind can’t help but wander, settling back to your home, to your father, mother, siblings. If they ever caught news of all that you’ve been through, they’d never let you set another foot outside the palace. Understandable in a way. You’re their precious gem, you know this. They would, however, protect you with everything they have. Some people, like Jongdae don’t have such luxury. For maybe the first time in years, you notice the true advantage of your position.

It reminds you of the one other time you realized it. You were still young, barely half your height now, and out with your older sister. A bright day, perfect for going for a walk, though unlike much of the kids in Aking, you had to be under tight surveillance. While walking down the stairs toward the river, a group of giggling children rushed by you, in the middle of their own game. In the mess, an even smaller girl ran straight into you, falling backwards because of the impact. She tumbled down several stairs, sitting up with a small hand pressed against her head and tears in her big eyes. But instead of helping her, your royal guard demanded an apology from the poor thing. And she did, with the most sorry expression you’d ever seen on a person.

Now, it strikes you again. Jongdae almost died in your place, and for what. You let out another sigh, before standing up. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a shape behind you, scaring you into the corner. You almost lose your balance from the shock. The Captain regards you with a blank expression, wearing a soft blue, long-sleeve shirt in place of his white jacket now. Despite the softer appearance, he still carries the same darkness on his face. At your unmoving state, he clenches his jaw a tad. When he takes a step forward, you take one back, his frown deepening. “I’ve hurt you once today, I think that’s enough.” He lifts his hands, to reveal a bottle with a murky, brown liquid. “I’m going to clean up that cut.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you snap back, almost rolling your eyes. He gave you the damned cut.

Kyungsoo just stares at you for a moment, before taking a few steps in your direction with raised hands, like you’re a rabid animal ready to strike. He has the same deep line digging between his brows every time he looks your way, only fading slightly when you cross your arms over your chest. The small jewels of your corset dig into your skin that way. “Baekhyun is helping your … friend,” he sighs, “he can’t help you right now. If you don’t clean the wound it will infect and fester.” Though you want to argue that he doesn’t care either way, you choose to look away instead. In a way, he probably does care. If you’re damaged, he might not get his money after all.

Kyungsoo steps up onto the higher ledge to stand a few feet away, and opens the bottle. A strong, alcoholic smell comes with it, making you pull up your nose. “Turn this way,” he motions. You turn your head towards the other end of the ship, as he pours some of the stuff on a rag. As a frown comes to rest on your face, he shakes his head. “This is all we have for cleaning wounds. Luckily, I don’t see a need for stitches.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have cut me at all,” you mumble, gaze on the wooden boards beneath your feet.

His eyes narrow at you as he lifts the rag to your face. “Maybe you shouldn’t be too nonchalant about my help. You’re on my ship, surrounded by my crew, under my rules.” A pause, and then he looks out from the ocean to you. “It’ll sting,” he says, as he drags the rag over your cut. It does burn like hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep from cursing something. Two good brushes of the rag before he takes it away, and walks down the ledge to go back towards the cabin. His steps rhythmic on the planks. After a second, he stops in place to turn around, and looks at you once more. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for kindness. I’m a lot of things and kind isn’t one of them.” You scoff. Yeah, you’ve noticed. It doesn’t seem to bother him. “Where was the fleet going to take you?” he questions, and for the first time the dark shadow on his face clears.

You hesitate for a second, before uncrossing your arms and swallowing. For some reason, you find it strange that he would ask. There’s barely any cities that far north, that the Royal fleet would fare to. Only a few have trading accords with the Capital. The other ones aren’t seen as important, and you barely know a thing about them. So, you answer him truthfully. “We were going to Elyfhil.” The Captain nods in response, expression barely changing. Yet, staring back at him like this, his face looks softer at the admission. “I read it’s the loveliest city in the world. Have you ever been there?”

“Born there,” he says, frown climbing back to it’s place on his features. “It’s a miserable place, really. Always cold, many old, abandoned houses, a lot of poverty and a lot of rich people abusing power.” He shakes his head though, and lifts his shoulders, as the ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth corner. “I guess someone like you wouldn’t find it miserable though. After all, you’ll never be one of the poor suckers struggling to feed their family.” The words hit your skin like a knife, leaving you with an open mouth and too little words coming out of it. “Go back indoors now, the wind is picking up.”

He walks away without waiting for your reply, as you follow his retreating shape with your eyes. You can’t even say anything in return, because to your surprise, you find yourself agreeing. You’ll never be one of the people who need help the most.

The sound of people is surprisingly loud, not only on the ship itself but from around it. There’s sound of vendors and merchants, but also children playing around the port. Sadly, you can’t see much of the small town of Caryon since the three of you are tied together around the mast and with your backs facing each other. And even if you could escape, you wouldn’t be able to get far without Sehun or Jongdae’s help. Most of the pirates went to land long ago, leaving you under the surveilling eye of a big man with a grimy beard and large hoop earrings. He doesn’t seem to speak Home Tongue, since he’s ignored every one of your pleads for water. After even more waiting in the smoldering sunlight that beams down on you without stop, people finally come back. You can only hope the Royal fleet was willing to pay off a group of pirates.

Baekhyun is the first one back on deck, with nimble movements as he hoists himself and two large bags over the wooden guardrail that protects you from the water. His dark hair messier than ever, but partly clipped back with a golden pin. He tosses the heavy looking bags to the side, before skipping over to the three of you with a smile. His dark eyes shining silver as he crouches in front of you. “Do you like my pin? I got it to match yours.” He tilts his head more into your view then, revealing the intricate details of a gold-threaded dragon that you recognize immediately. It’s yours, one you left on the ship when you had to flee. Baekhyun sees the recognition in your eyes, and giggles. “Seems like you really are from the royal fleet, huh. They sold some of your stuff but I’m guessing most of it is still on board.”

“They— no, wait, who sold you this?” you fumble, watching him stand again. The rest of the crew is already pouring back on board, carrying various crates and sacks. “Did you find the Royal fleet? Did they give you the money?” Baekhyun doesn’t answer your questions. He walks towards the cabin with a spring in his step. “What in Idite’s name…” you sigh, feeling Sehun’s fingers wrap around your hand and holding it in support.

“I’m sure they found them,” he mumbles back, his shoulder pressed to your own, “Captain Lilith wouldn’t just let us sit here. Right, Jongdae?” There’s a non-committal sound from the quartermaster. “As soon as she hears word of your being on the ship, she’ll come and get you, Princess. Have no worry.” Though his comforting words help to calm your heart, there’s part of you that doubts this notion. After all, any pirate could say they have someone of value on board. Who would believe a bunch of thieves without a shred of proof?

Not much later, the Captain comes on board too, hopping over the railing easily. He straightens his jacket, before giving an order to the men behind him. You’re too far away to hear. After a second, his eyes meet yours though, deep orbs scanning you up and down a few times. It sends an uncomfortable feeling to your stomach, you don’t enjoy being viewed as cargo. He grabs the shoulder of one of the pirates, and cocks his head towards the three of you. “We’re sailing back out, so get into the nest. When we’re about an hour out, you can let them out of their binds. They won’t be able to run elsewhere.”

When he turns to walk away, most likely to steer the ship, you lean forward and clear your throat. “Captain Kyungsoo!” Several of the men turn to look at you, but don’t say anything. “Could we get some water, please? We’ve been sitting in the sun for hours.” When he turns to look at you, he lifts an eyebrow, before clicking his tongue in disapproval. His hands come to rest at his belt, where the sharp sword that was pressed to your throat just this morning still hangs easily, next to two smaller knives.

“Any requests can go to Baekhyun,” he sighs, sounding most fed up you’ve ever heard him. You want to ask about the fate of you and your friends, but judging his expression, now is not the best of times to ask. “He’s been put in charge of your well-being.” Said man comes from around the corner with a grin that makes his cheeks cutely round, already waving a water bottle back and forth nonchalantly. Kyungsoo whispers him something as they cross, but doesn’t acknowledge you any further. He merely shakes his head, and walks toward the helm, to steer the ship without having to see you three. You huff when he disappears, and watch the last of the men pull the anchor of the ship up. Four of them, straining to get the giant metal onto deck. Baekhyun hums as he approaches, pressing the bottle against Sehun’s lips and pouring without thinking twice.

Half of the water runs down the sides of his mouth and almost in his nose, but the pirate clearly doesn’t care. “Drink up, buttercup!” he grins, waddling to Jongdae next. The man has been mostly quiet since you’ve arrived on Caryon. It doesn’t sit well. Jongdae, out of you three, has been the most optimistic the entire trip. Even when you were floating out in the middle of nowhere, he had a smile on his lips and a spring in his step that brought you an immense feeling of calm, despite the hopeless situation. You can only guess what’s going on in his head. When the quartermaster has had his fill, Baekhyun settles in front of you, and motions at you to open your mouth.

The water is cool, even when it slips down your lips and drops from your chin. Two gulps, and then the bottle is pulled away. Though you glare at him from under your lashes, Baekhyun beams down at you with a smile. You still can’t get over the strange feeling you have around him, even with the kindness he’s shown you. There’s just something— that feels off about him. “What is happening now, Baekhyun?” you ask. You can feel the ship moving again, the sails curved into half moons in the wind. “You didn’t find the Royal fleet, did you?”

At the very last, the artificial grin slips off, revealing for the first time ever a slight frown on his handsome face. It stays silent for a long while, before Baekhyun leans a bit closer, face uncomfortably close to yours. He truly must not understand what personal space is. “You didn’t tell me you got attacked by pirates before. I thought we were friends, and friends tell each other things.” Holding your tongue for a moment, you look at him. His eyes are tense, lips set into a straight line, like whatever he found out genuinely bothers him and for this moment only do you truly feel for him. But then he leans back and cocks his head, smiling. The chance is instant, if you had blinked you would’ve missed it. “There’s no problem, little fish. Just a change of plans.”

You frown, but nod. “Well, I would have told you, but I thought whoever attacked us must have been part of your men. I take it that assumption is wrong?”

Baekhyun grins, before tapping his hand softly against your injured cheek, ignoring your wince entirely. “You do have some brains in that pretty head of yours, after all. A bad liar, but not useless.” He jumps back to his feet to put the bottle into a bunched stack of thick ropes, and then stretches out. “You’ll all be staying with us for a bit longer. You see, the Captain has decided that he really wants that coin you’ll make us, so I’m not allowed to play with any of you. But it seems the Royal fleet has been split up. One of the ships was taken by the Red Skulls, and they are on their merry way to capture the other two as well. With on board, our money. So you see how this becomes a problem for us. If the Red Skulls take the fleet before we can, there won’t be anyone left to pay us off.”

“How do you know all this?” Sehun asks, unable to look at Baekhyun but listening intently nevertheless.

The raven-haired pirate just shrugs. “I have charms, getting people to talk isn’t hard.”

For the first time in a few hours, you finally hear Jongdae’s voice as well. “Did they say anything about the crew?” But Baekhyun doesn’t answer, which is the most telling answer of all. His lips purse though, and he turns away from you to look out at the no doubts vanishing island, as if he doesn’t want to face the disappointment in Jongdae’s eyes. All you can do is touch your fingertips to the man’s bound hands, unsure of what to say. When Baekhyun turns back to you, he lets out a deep breath, and rubs his black-stained hands under his eyes.

“They have a few hours on us, but our ship is much faster. We’re going to take that ship before it can get to Elyfhil.”

“And what about us,” you question, running it over in your head. If they can take back the ship with that much ease, surely, they don’t need to deliver you back to get the money they so eagerly ache for. If anything, I’d be easier to just get rid of you all together, and take the remaining ships as well. Baekhyun takes out his sword as you talk, planting it into the wood between your feet. “The way I see it you have no good reason to keep us around. You’re going to get your money, you’re going to get your revenge. You’ll probably even get to stab a few guys along the way.”

He chuckles, before leaning forward onto the sword to look straight into your eyes. “Aye, but you forgot to tell us some really important things before, didn’t you? The first ships of the royal fleet, those that weren’t taken yet? They were looking for something more valuable than coin.” His eyes glint knowingly, the same dangerous smile curving onto his face like a shadow. “They were looking for a lost guard, and the Queen’s daughter. Now what are the odds of that?”

“You think I’m the Queen’s daughter?” you scoff.

“No, little fish,” Baekhyun shakes his head the tiniest bit, before answering, “we know you are.”

     🌊🌊🌊     

It’s been a day. A whole day, you’ve been locked up in the small wine storage they cleared out as a cell. You’ve burned through six candles, since the tiny window that sits right below the ceiling is constantly blocked by water gushing past. At least you’re able to use your hands again, and look your friends in the eye. This has given you plenty of time to think, too. Something limited only slightly by the alcoholic fumes you’ve been breathing in. Sehun sits slumped against the wall across from you. “We could try and pry loose one of these boards, and jam it into the keyhole to open the door. Then, we sneak past the crew once they are asleep, and we knock out the captain. Then we either sail straight ahead towards the city, or we turn us back around to Caryon. Either would work, really.”

You snort, unable to help it. His ideas have been getting more and more ridiculous by the minute. “You almost lost your finger pushing it into the lock earlier, Master Sehun. I think we’ve all seen enough of that for the rest of our trip.” Jongdae is stood against the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes the sharpest of all of you yet. You guess he’s more used to the wine than you are. His lip is still swollen, cut right through the middle and looking very painful. “And even if we got out of this room, we’re still on the ship with a couple dozen pirates who won’t hesitate to stab us.”

“Stab me and Jongdae, you mean. They are not going to stab a Princess.”

You stretch out your leg to deliver a tap to his shin, your friend jumping out of the way with a smile. At least someone’s still seeing the fun in all this. You shake your head at him, and sigh. “What happens to you, will happen to me as well. I’m not letting any of you get hurt in my stead. Not again.” It’s strange to think that less than a week ago, you were still in the innocent belief that this would be a fun experience. Jongdae’s hand is soft on your arm, his smile strained against his injury but genuine all the same. You wave him off, when he mouths a ‘thank you’. “We’re not going to escape here any time soon, is all I’m saying,” you finish, pressing your back against the coarse wood behind you.

It stays silent for a bit, before Jongdae clears his throat. “Actually, that isn’t that bad of an idea.” Your eyes are wide when you glance at him over your shoulder, and see that he means it. Never mind, Jongdae doesn’t handle wine well at all. He’s gone completely crazy. When you laugh, the quartermaster takes hold of your hand. “No, listen, Princess! We could take the ship from the inside out!”

“How in the Gods’ names would we do that?!” you respond, glancing between the two clearly irrational men that are locked in this shed with you.

“Well, Baekhyun is right. They know who you are, they know they are right and how much the Capital can pay to have you back unharmed. Meaning, you’re relatively safe around them, even though they don’t look at all like the caring types.” Jongdae speaks with so much conviction, that you almost believe him. “Second, and please excuse my crudeness, your Highness; but you’re an desirable young girl, if anyone can get close to the Captain, it’s you.”

You just blink at him. “You’ve gone insane, Jongdae. Truly!”

“I hate to be against your judgement, Princess Y/N, but I think the Quartermaster is right.” Your disbelieving gaze snaps to your best friend at that, mouth dropping open. He cannot be serious. “You’re the only girl on a ship full of men, and you cannot be harmed under their care. That is the perfect moment to use your womanly charm, and enchant the Captain into your trust.”

Jongdae nods. “If he trusts you enough, maybe you’ll be able to enter the cabin. You can steal the key, and then when night comes, we can sneak out and lock the men beneath deck. I can take the wheel from there, and we’d only have to deal with the captain, which is us three against one.” He runs his hands through his hair, and nods. The faith they have in your abilities would be a compliment, if not for the fact that Captain Kyungsoo scares you more than a tad. “It’s quite a good plan, your Highness. But we need you to be willing, of course.”

“That is, assuming the Captain wants to be charmed at all! I don’t know if you’ve yet noticed, but he’s not the most jolly of individuals,” you argue, with wild, frustrated hand movements. “Let’s just assume that he did, in fact, have an interest in me past the monetary value he sees me as, then I have to convince him to let me into the cabin without him, and steal a key that I don’t know what it looks like. And then what?! Say we do get to Elyfhil without any further issues, what do we do with them then?” Sehun seems entirely too amused by your worry, so you take off your shoe to toss it at him, only missing his face by a hair. Jongdae, for the first time in a while, smiles as well.

“We have a few weeks to figure it out,” Sehun grins, giddy at the idea and all you can do is glare at him in response. “This is pretty much the only plan we have, Princess. But fear not, for I have faith in your abilities.” Stupid boys. Stupid, idiotic boys with their stupid plans.

When night falls, your head falls into an tired rest on Jongdae’s shoulder, with the last flickering light of the candle dimming into darkness. The wood creaks around you, ship waving back and forth smoothly on the face of the sea. Your lids are so heavy, and soon you’re falling into an unsteady sleep.

The sea is calm, smooth like a mirror to the sky, as the ship cuts through it. The water reflects yellows and soft pinks, cold filling your lungs as you wait. The figure stands at the very front of the ship, looking out over the sea with gentle, rhythmic breaths. Calm. ‘Captain Kyungsoo?’ you breathe at the shape, watching him as he turns over his shoulder to look at you. Face dusted a soft pink, he smiles. A kind smile, one that fills you with joy and you can’t help but return the gesture a tenfold. ‘There you are, I was waiting for you for a long time,’ he says, motioning you up onto the ledge. You do, feel his hand in yours as support, while he leads you to stand in front of him. His sturdy figure close to yours, pointing out at the sea. ‘A bit further and we’ll arrive at the shore. Just past the fog you see there, there’s trees as tall as giants, white beaches with sand finer than the finest thread. Woods, for miles and miles. You’ve always wanted to see it, haven’t you?’ Your nod is gentle, but genuine. You have. He rests his chin on your shoulder then, breath brushing over your exposed skin. ‘I wish we could see it together. I wish you could explore it all, with me.’ ‘But we can’t. Can we, Princess?’ You can’t move. You want to turn to look at him, you really do, but you can’t move. Unable to move a single muscle. Unable to speak. You can only watch the undisturbed ocean, and feel the soft brush of his hand against your fingers. ‘We can’t, because you lied to me. You’ve been lying to me the whole time, and now everything is ruined. Did I deserve it? Did I deserve to be a pawn in your royal game?’ ‘Y/N?’

“Y/N.”

A hand wraps around your wrist, shaking you up and awake at once, eyes wide. Small beads of sweat gather at your hairline, your cheeks glowy, bright red. “Wake up, Princess,” Sehun breathes, his large hand still gently wrapped around your arm. You blink a few times, before pushing yourself up from the uncomfortable position you’re sat in. “You’re glowing.” You look around to see the same small space, though the door is open, and Jongdae is nowhere to be seen.

“Where are we?” you breathe, rubbing your warm hands over your cheeks in circles. They are very hot indeed.

Sehun lets go of you once your stable on your feet, and smiles. “Still aboard the ship, Princess. But we’ve been allowed out, we’re too far away from land to escape, it seems. I think you need some fresh air, you were overheating in here.” You nod, and swallow. Your throat is dry, tongue sponge-like. Your friend watches you intently, before lifting his brows. “Are you okay? You look out of it.”

“I’m fine, Master Sehun,” you respond, peeking out of the door into the dark belly of the ship. You need some fresh air. As you walk, the tall man follows close behind. That must have been a dream. It can’t have been anything but a dream, yet it felt so real. Your breathing is still strained, only evening out once you get out of the confined space of the ship. The ship creaks loudly, under the busy movement of the crew. Jongdae is sitting on the railing further up, letting his legs dangle. He looks so casual, despite the worried expression he carries. You feel his worry. Sehun’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder after a second, where he returns with a cup, ordering you to drink with the most gentle voice anyone has ever given an order.

You sigh when you catch his eyes. “Listen, Hun… I know that you’re putting all your hope on this plan,” you lean a bit closer to say the last word, “but I have a really bad feeling about it. As in, I don’t think we should go through with it.” Your friend doesn’t try to hide his surprise, mouth dropping open slightly. “I know that we should try— but I don’t think I can. I’m hardly as charming as you seem to believe I am, I’m stubborn and a little bit too snappy for my own good sometimes. I can’t… make a random man suddenly like me. He’ll see right through it!”

The dark haired man bites his lip in thought. “I don’t think he will, Princess. After all, he did clean your cut out of his own volition, did he not?” You let out a tense breath, and pout up at him, making Sehun’s face flood with a certain joy. You should both know that he only did that not to carry damaged goods aboard. Sehun seems to purposefully ignore that part. “If you really don’t want to, then don’t. But you know as well as we do that there’s nothing more we can plan. We’re outnumbered by a tenfold. The only way to get anywhere is to gain a bit of their trust or even respect.”

“And what if I don’t think they deserve to be lied to so?” you bring out, wringing your hands together in the soft, pink fabric of your dress. There’s no other clothes aboard, so you’ve been in the same dress for days.

At this your friend just stares at you, disbelief in his eyes. “They are pirates, Princess!”

“I know, I know that,” you sigh, “I know that I’m looking too much into it but…” 

Before your friend can say anything in response, a shout comes from behind you. “Little fish!” the voice beams, bright and too loud for even your sunny disposition. Sehun just lifts his shoulders, as confused as you are when you turn. Baekhyun’s bright features cut through the bustle easily. “Come over here, please.” He waves you over with a happy grin, and places his hands on his hips. “Or Princess Little fish, I should say!” You huff out a tense breath, but walk over, and tilt your head at him in question.

“What do you want?” you say.

Your defiance delights him endlessly, every time. You can see it in the way his cheeks seem to get even wider, if possible. “Don’t be rude now.” You glare at him in return. “You’re all worked up I see,” he beams, and takes your hand smoothly in his own to lead you around, “but I’ll get you even more worked up! Captain has sent me to get your pretty self to join us for lunch. He worries about your well-being every second! Isn’t he the kindest?” You can only imagine the tiniest truth hidden behind his words, and decide to ignore the rest. This man really knows how to get under someone’s skin like a rash. You pull your hand from his, but walk alongside him.

“What’s the purpose behind this sudden lunch invitation if I may ask?”

A playful hum comes from him, as he pinches your side. “No reason~” Baekhyun sings, only adding more fuel to your worry. As you near the door, you sigh, glancing back at Sehun just once. You can’t deny that the setup to the plan is being handed to you on a silver platter at this very moment. Your friend gives you a tense smile, and puts up his thumbs toward you. Though it frustrates you beyond belief, you know as well as your two friends that any other means of escaping will be as good as impossible. You’re more than a week away from your destination. You tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear when Baekhyun leans around you to open the door, and swallow your hesitance. You can at least give it a try.

The silence that lingers in the room between each sentence is deafeningly uncomfortable. You lay your hands next to your plate, and drum your nails on the smooth wood of the table. It’s a miracle that this ship even floats, with the amount of heavily decorative furniture occupy the cabin. You’re sat across from the Captain, whose seat remains empty for now, while Baekhyun sits at the head of the table. “Would you like some water?” the deep voice calls from across the room, broad back facing you.

You don’t respond, unsure of what to say. After all, what could he possibly want from you that requires lunch to precede it? You will yourself to remember that these men, however charming, are still pirates. Pillagers, murderers, thieves. They take what they want, when they want it. The only reason you’re still alive is because they have a use for you. You have to remember that. The Captain glances back at you with a frown, and places a glass of water in front of you anyway, mouth corners turned down. “I’m not usually this attentive to my captives,” he mumbles, as he takes his seat across yours. “Your pride is going to give out before I start caring, so drink while you still get to.”

“Maybe I won’t drink anymore for this entire journey,” you bite back, unable to help it. You don’t understand this man, and it frustrates you to no end. He invites you to lunch, but threatens you basically the second you’re in his presence, and calls you his captive. “Then I will die of sickness and you won’t get any riches at all.” The darkness on his face flickers like a flame over his gaze, playful but unwavering, though his frown grows deeper if possible.

“Then die, Princess.” He takes a drink from his own glass, before slumping back in the plush of the chair. “If that is the way your Highness chooses to go, by all means, be my guest.” Your jaw stays locked hard together, eyes on his expression. But he’s not looking at you anymore, like the sight of you disgusts him. His handsome face aimed solely at the table, or the wall behind you, but not on your face. You almost wish he’d at least have the guts to stare you in the eye when he talks to you, but in truth, that might just anger you further. “You speak of your life so easily, like you’d be willing to give it up for anything and anyone.”

“I would,” you say, full in this notion. You don’t feel the need to lie, since your truth is much more to you than just a way you were raised. You believe in it, fully and from the bottom of your heart. Not that he’d understand, you think, watching the nonchalant way he twirls the small knife between his fingers. Baekhyun, meanwhile, has been the most quiet you’ve ever seen him. Your bottom lip juts out a bit as you continue. “It’s my duty to protect my people, and I take that role very seriously.”

At this the Captain scoffs, loudly, grinning at the ceiling in disbelief. For two full heartbeats, it stays quiet, and you can feel the anger in your body bubbling over. Forget charming this man, maybe you’ll just launch over the table and strangle him instead. But when he finally looks at you again, you don’t see the gloating expression you’re expecting. Instead, there’s a distinct sadness that settles in his features, brushed gently over his face. The face of sorrow, and loss. “Have you ever even seen death before, Princess? Sickness? Excruciating hunger and pain?” He shakes his head at you. “Because if you are willing to give your life so easily, I don’t believe you have.”

The tenseness of your body ebbs out with the long breath you let out. “Then don’t believe it. I have. Not me, and not my close relatives. Because I was as fortunate as to be born into a position of power and money.” He doesn’t respond. But your lips shake slightly as you continue. “But I think I’ve seen more death than you have, Captain. Whenever I can, I sneak out of the palace to visit the temples, and after that the doctor houses. Orphanages. I see people pray to every God they know of to heal their family members. I watch them wither away as I hold their hand, cold in their beds. I read stories to those poor children who’ve lost everything and it’s true… I am healthy, because I get fed every day, and because I can pay the best medics.” You swallow, removing your eyes from his to stare into your glass. “But do you think I don’t feel it? I am the only one standing tall between people who see death as a constant. People put their faith in me, their hope, their dreams, they give them all to me because I was born a princess and yet, I can’t do a single thing to save them!

“So yes, I want to give my life for the people I care about, because that is the only thing I can do to help,” you say, clenching your trembling hands in your dress. “I’m not sorry for giving my one life away for the values I believe in. At least I don’t kill for enjoyment.” You’re not sure what the man is thinking, but you’ve had about enough, and lunch hasn’t even started yet. You push your chair back and stand, ready to walk out of here. Tell your friends that you’d just have to sit it out. You and the Captain are just too different, there’s no way you’d ever get along. But then fingers wrap around your arm, pulling you back, and your feet falter as if automatic. Baekhyun’s grip on you is tight, long fingers locked around your wrist.

“Stay,” he says, face void of the familiar grin you’ve learned to anticipate on him, and it makes you hesitate. “Kyungsoo is not a man of many words. He doesn’t talk much, and when he does, it often comes out too harsh. But we might all have some things in common, Princess.” His eyes are clear on yours, mouth pulled in a soft line. “So sit back down, please.” You huff, but do so, not looking across the table again. One of the men soon enters with a pot of soup, and places it on the table. You all eat in silence, something you’re not used to, but at this moment you’re glad for the bit of peace. When Baekhyun finishes his plate in record speed, the Captain sends him a look.

“Baekhyun, would you please check up on our other two guests for a moment?” The other nods, and leaves the room without another word. You wonder which of the two really wanted this lunch. From the way Baekhyun held your arm, it seems to suggest… but then why? The Captain pauses for a moment, before linking his hands together on the table. “I trust that Baekhyun has been looking out for your well-being sufficiently?”

You bite your bottom lip, but nod. “He has been trying his hardest, I think.” The Captain agrees wordlessly, and chooses to watch you instead. His sharp, calculating gaze is entirely distracting. You play with your cutlery for a moment, but are unable to keep quiet anymore. “Whatever the reason for this dinner, I don’t think I—”

“I wanted to apologize for my impertinence toward you throughout this trip,” the Captain cuts in, his strong voice filling the cabin easily. Definitely now it’s just the two of you, it seems to tremble through the fibers of the wood.

“Do— w-wait, what?” you stutter, eyes wide, “Apologize?”

“Yes.” His handsome face is aimed solely on you yet again, and this time, your cheeks heat under his gaze. You’re absolutely confused now. Kyungsoo tilts his head a bit when you don’t immediately respond, and continues. “I was harsh in my punishment, and I’ve come to understand you’ve been quite polite towards me for it in return. I wanted to…” he pauses, and for the first time to this point, he looks unsure of his words. Like you’re the one who might shut him down. But, you’re still too starstruck by the apology to make out anything else. Who in the history of -ever- has gotten a pirate of all people to apologize to them, out of choice? “I want to promise that I will not cause you harm again, Princess.”

Your mouth drops open at that. You’re starting to think you’re currently still having a fever dream and that you’re still locked up in the wine cellar, imagining all of this. You don’t even really care if he has an alternative motive, which he most likely has. That makes two of you, then. “Thank you,” you mumble, finishing the last of your soup quickly. Then, you look around the room, this time out of genuine curiosity. On the wall facing you, hangs a giant map, with thin, blue lines of ink marking a spider web across it. They must have all been sailing together for a long time, if they’ve seen all those places in their relatively short lives. You bite your cheek, and slowly breathe in. “Can I ask you a question, Captain Kyungsoo?” He nods.

“You’ve traveled a lot, right?” Again, he gives you a nonverbal response. “Do you believe in mermaids? I know they are most likely just stories,” you smile despite your hesitance, “but I’ve always wondered. They seem so fascinating!” This pulls a quirk from his full lips, turning them up at the corners, ever so gently. “Don’t laugh! My aunt, the third Queen, swears on her life that they are real. I just have to know, it’s been eating me up inside. And even if you haven’t seen them yet, doesn’t mean they can’t exist. You haven’t sailed the entire world yet.” You cross your arms over your chest when his smile grows, turning his smile into the shape of a heart, full and warm. It’s a foreign sight on his otherwise serious face.

“They are real,” he nods, smoothing his expression back into one of indifference, but you can see the twinkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

You brush your strand of hair back behind your ear, before shaking your head. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” This makes the man giggle, a sound that surprises you so that you freeze in place. It makes him look so much younger, painting such true joy into him that you can’t help but join in. “I would’ve believed you!” you whine, pushing your plate forward a bit in protest.

“They are real,” he repeats, eyes crinkled into half moons because of his wide cheeks. “There’s an island, far up north where the water is as cold as ice, but it doesn’t freeze. And there, in the water, you can see them swimming around. I swear it, they are real.”

You stop laughing when he does, and lean forward. “Are they pretty?”

“No,” the Captain breathes, “they are very ugly. With thick, grey scales all over, and sunken in cheeks. They have dull, almost see through skin, only barely visible in the water. And their hair is long and dark like the night. When you sail through their waters they try to crawl on-board of the ship, to take you with them into the water, and they cry painful songs as soon as their heads peak above the water.” He says it so fully, that you can’t even tell if it’s a lie or not. You want to believe it. “The Hellbound still has scratches on the side of her from when their claws scraped by the wood,” he nods. You just blink, and look at your plate.

“How do you know they want to harm? If they are magical creatures, they could be kind.”

“We don’t know they want to harm. But none of us were willing to find out. The water is too cold anyway, would’ve killed us in minutes. And since I’m responsible for my men, I didn’t want to take a chance.” You nod in understanding, looking around this room. To your left is the door back out, and to your right is a door that has only a small window in it. The golden plaque on it says ‘Office’. You can only imagine what treasures lie hidden in the office of a Pirate Captain. “And magic, that’s something for landlubbers like yourself. I don’t really believe in it.”

For some reason that doesn’t surprise you. With the breath you let out, some of your anxiety ebbs away. “Maybe I’m totally wrong, and excuse me if I am, but you don’t seem to want this,” you suddenly murmur. The Captain raises his brow a bit, a silent question. You clear your throat. “Everyone looks at you like you’re meant to be the one to lead, like… like you’re programmed to do so. They admire you, but they also seem to think you have all the answers, when you don’t. I feel the same things in a way, back home. Being a Royal. I know I shouldn’t complain, but most days I wish I could switch places with any other girl my age. I never asked for this, but people treat me like I did.”

You blink at him for a second again, biting through the tense feeling as best you can. “You treat me like I asked for this. And I treat you like you wanted to become what you are.” The man across from you gives you the tiniest nod. So you pick at the thin fabric of your dress, and look down. “So I guess I’m asking you now… Did you?”

The silence is filled yet again with the rushing of the waves, a constant the last few days that has become calming to your soul. Then, like the truth pains him deeply, he lets out a huff. “No.” Kyungsoo stares through the window revealing the deck for a long time, blinking against the muted light. “But things happen that push you in ways you never meant to go.” You try to respond a couple of times, but you’re not sure what to say. You agree with him… again. He doesn’t seem interested in elaborating about it further, so that leaves you both alone to your thoughts, in the same room. Not much later, Baekhyun suddenly pushes the door back open, his happy demeanor breaking through the void easily.

“The guests are breathing and alive! And I brought the second course.” The rest of the meal goes by in relative silence, both men informing you that the Red Skulls sold most of your left-behind items in Caryon. They also mention that these pirates are more ruthless than most. When you ask about what might have happened to the remaining crew on the ship, their faces don’t let on much, but you can notice Baekhyun tensing up at the topic. He swiftly explains that you shouldn’t have hope of seeing them again, which makes you incredibly sad for Jongdae. You don’t find out the actual reason behind inviting you to lunch though, which leaves you the most uncomfortable you’ve been in a while. Because you can’t figure out for the life of you why the Captain and his Right hand are being kind to you.

     🌊🌊🌊     

The days, though painstakingly long at times, are quite nice. You’ve truly grown to enjoy the breeze that flows past your shoulders when you stand out on deck. You’re gotten to sit up in the lowest of the crows nests, even though Sehun looked terrified for you the entire while. Turns out you wholly underestimated how long the trip would take, because seven more days out at sea seem like a lifetime. However, today is fun, since the wind has turned. The ship barely moves on the ocean, and the sails are pulled up and bound, which is a spectacle in itself. Baekhyun hangs in the ropes like a monkey, grinning like he is having the time of his life and you can’t help but tilt your head all the way back to follow his smooth motions from mast to mast, swinging between the ropes.

When you look over towards the rear of the ship, you can see Jongdae and Kyungsoo talk, even though it doesn’t last long. Kyungsoo’s hair is loose today, like it’s been freshly washed and though you’re not sure how he did that on a ship, you decides it looks good on him. It falls in fluffy tufts over his brows, hiding most of his frown even though you don’t doubt it’s still very much in place. When Jongdae returns back to your side, he smiles. You smile back at him, though the motion seems to pull at your muscles uncomfortably. You haven’t told him about the Red Skulls yet. You couldn’t, not when it’s clear that the hope has been all that he’s been holding onto. You turn to him, and lift your brows. “What’s got you so happy, Master Jongdae?”

“Nothing much,” he blinks, before poking your side playfully. “But I do have a slight surprise for you.”

“Oh no, what now…” you breathe, growing even more concerned at his overly excited grin.

“The ship is going to be stuck here for a while, since we’re stuck in between two currents caused by some smaller islands to the east. So I might have asked the Captain if it was alright to go have a swim. And before you say no, Sehun’s already getting you one of his shirts so you can’t back out.” He takes your hand to take you across the deck to the small space without railing, where a rope ladder hangs to a foot above the water. “We’ll just have a little dive, alright? The water looks great and it’s not very deep either.” The water does look great. It’s a warm, blue color, like that of a tropical island, and small droplets splash onto your exposed skin while you look.

“We’re on an pirate ship, and you want to take a little dive?” you giggle in return.

“Just because we’re on enemy territory doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to have some fun! Even Captain grumpy didn’t need any convincing.” When you roll your eyes, he pouts. “Come on, Princess, we’re going to be stuck here for an hour or two at least!”

To your other side, your best friend comes to lean his arm over your shoulder, and holds out the dark fabric of what you guess must be the shirt he was talking about. It’s quite thin of fabric, but at least it’s not as sheer as the dress you’re wearing. “You know you want to,” Sehun mumbles, the smile on his face audible even in his voice. You shake your head at both man’s antics, before jutting out your lips. But before you can convince yourself of any reasons that this might be a bad idea, your best friend lets out a high pitched laugh. Because he can see it on your face clear as day, fuck yes, you want to.

The water was pretty cold when you first entered, but now it’s actually quite warm. You laugh when Jongdae splashes a whole wall of water Sehun’s way, and swim out a bit more. The seafloor is only a few feet lower than the belly of the ship here, but it’s still way to deep to stand up. You smile, before letting yourself sink underneath the surface of the water and gently open your eyes. It feels a bit uncomfortable, but after a second or two you can make out your friends in the water, lower halves looking extremely silly. They look like frogs jumping around, only without getting very far. You look down the side of the ship, making out some paler lines on the wood that could very well be scratches, before coming back up for breath.

Jongdae smiles at you. “Princess! I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to catch a fish like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to catch one,” you giggle, and splash some water on their direction, before shaking your head. “Never-mind,” you reply. You sink under again, this time turning away from the ship to look down at the colorful plants that occupy most of the sea bottom. Small, multicolored fish swim in and out between the corals, unbothered by your presence. Some even swim towards you, as if curious to what strange creature you might be. They never get close enough to touch though, so you come back up to the surface for air. How pretty. For the first time in a while, this trip is going the way you wanted it to, and without being able to help it, you smile. You slowly make your way back to your friends, feeling the strain in your muscles from the lack of using them.

In all honesty, though you’re a good swimmer, you can’t remember the last time you actually did. It must have been years ago, that’s for sure. After another couple circles, you take hold of the ladder to your side to rest. Some of the pirates in the ropes glance down at you three every few, most likely wanting to take a dive as well. Jongdae comes to hold onto your shoulder as well, motioning Sehun over. “The plan seems to be going quite well, right, your Highness?” the older says, lowering his voice a bit out of caution. “The Captain seems less on edge about our presence than before.”

You give him a slight hum, though your brows are furrowed. “I guess… but I don’t really think that’s because of me. Baekhyun mentioned something about common goals, so it wouldn’t surprise me if we weren’t the only ones with hidden agendas. And besides, the Captain has hardly been very open with me since that one lunch we had a few days ago. He’s been very busy with the crew, and I don’t want to make it obvious either. Who knows what they’ll do if they find out we are —” you lower your voice even more, barely reaching above a whisper in volume, “trying to take over the ship?”

“I don’t think they have a clue,” Sehun smiles easily, backstroking past. “Who’d think that three people would plot against three dozen, after all?”

Jongdae nods. The two have become good friends throughout the time you’ve spent together, you’ve noticed. It makes you happy to see, since most of your time has been spent away from your best friend the last few days. And not that you’d admit it to him, but you’ve also grown quite attached to the older man’s quirky sense of humor and kind personality. “Exactly,” he agrees. “You’re doing great, Princess. Really. If you keep this going, in a few days you’ll definitely be able to enter there without the Captain even questioning it.” Though you shake your head with a roll of your eyes, you can’t help but hope he’s right. You don’t feel particularly glad to be misleading him after all, even though you should have no problems with it. Sehun and Jongdae are both kind people, and they don’t seem bothered, after all. Why should you be?

“Hey, Dae?” you then call, swimming away to let Sehun rest for a bit. “What do you think is going on with Captain Lilith? I know you most likely don’t want to talk about it, but I… I just worry, you know?” Baekhyun and Kyungsoo seem to worry too, though you don’t say this.

“I understand, Princess,” he soothes you, though he smiles sadly as he talks. “I know I’ve been avoiding the topic, because honestly… I felt guilty for a long time there. The Red Skulls are infamous, and known to sail those parts. As soon as we got attacked, I should have realized it was either them or these group of thieves, and never have left the fleet.”

“Jongdae…” Sehun tries to cut in, attempting to help, but Jongdae shakes his head.

“That’s what I should have done. But I didn’t, so there’s no reason I should beat myself up about it any longer. I can’t change the events of the past anymore anyway.” And he’s right, though you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you didn’t get attacked by pirates. What would you be doing right now? You’d probably be lounging in your bed, in the belly of the ship and sailing across the sea with no worries and no qualms. You wouldn’t have the scab on your cheek from a pirate sword, and you would most likely never have become friends with Jongdae. Not as quickly, at least. You would have never met Captain Kyungsoo and his mess of a Right Hand Baekhyun. You would definitely not have stopped here to take a dive in the perfect, blue water and you can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your brain telling you that maybe, very maybe, you’re having a better time because of it.

but no, that’s ridiculous, right? You do your best to shake that idea from your mind, and sigh. “Whatever might happen next—” You’re cut off by a loud, childlike shriek from above you, and you look up. Baekhyun grins down at the three of you in the water, along with many others of the pirates who seem to have given up on work for right now, in favor of a bit of fun. The raven-haired tease scrunches his nose at you when you eye him, before taking a run up and tossing himself over the guardrails of the ship.

“CANNONBALL!” The splash he creates is gigantic, and goes up your nose when you giggle.

After a few long hours of playing in the water, you’re the first to climb back up onto the ladder. Which isn’t easy, with the immense effort you have to put in to lift your exhausted limbs above your head. You almost crawl onto deck, choosing to lay down on your back for a second, and feeling the cold wind nip at your shoulders. The afternoon sun is still warm on your shoulders, and the air is clear and cold in your lungs. If this wasn’t such a strange situation, this would be the only way you’d choose to spend your free time. Out at sea with friends, just enjoying the days. Maybe visit a tropical island or two, while you’re at it. When you open your eyes and roll onto your side, you come face to face with some boots, and looking up further, Kyungsoo. He stands hovered over your body, his top lip lifted slightly in what you can only guess is… awkwardness? So you stare at him for a moment, before pushing yourself up from the deck surface to stand on your legs. Only when you do, you notice the airtight way your shirt sticks to your shape, revealing much more of yourself than you wanted to. Oh, that’s why.

The man’s eyes linger for just a split second too long for you to miss it, though the rest of his face is schooled back perfectly into one of seriousness. He holds his arm out, with over it a white piece of clothing. “Here,” he nods for you to take it, “we figured you’d like to have the remainder of your items if given the chance. We found them being sold in Caryon. Don’t thank me either, it was all Baekhyun.” As you take the dress from his hands, you stare at it for a bit. It’s a white dress, with a boat neck and simple lace ruffles at the bottom, though pretty designs have been stitched on with white thread. Did you really bring this dress with you? You might have, though you don’t recognize it. The entire preparation period seems like a bit of a blur now, since everything that has happened between then and now. “I saw you getting up so…” he trails off, biting the side of his cheek. “Can you call the rest back up? The wind is picking up, we have to get going soon.” With that he walks away, not waiting up for your answer.

You hum after him in response anyway. When the Captain disappears from sight, you quickly peel the wet shirt from your body to slide into the dress, shaking a bit as the wind indeed picks up. Normally you’d never be this brave, but since everyone is either in the water or sleeping, you take a chance. Right on time in fact, because not long after the first pirates are making their way back onto deck. You tug your dress down a bit, frowning. You definitely did not bring this dress, you now realize, as it doesn’t even reach your knees. With a frown, you push the edge down a bit, turning when a whistle sounds out. Of course.

Baekhyun’s eyes seem to shine like diamonds, glee like you’ve never seen on him before. Of course this is his doing. “Baekhyun!” you hiss, walking over to him to punch him in the shoulder. “You think this is so very funny, don’t you?” He doesn’t respond, but takes hold of the hand you hit him with to pull your body way too close to his drenched one, smirking all the while. “Gods— let go, you maniac!” A bit harsh maybe, but it’s Baekhyun you’re talking to. He’ll get over it. This seems to push him towards the edge even more though.

“Don’t be like that, Princess. I got you a gift, you should be grateful.” Gift, hah, you think. The only person who it’s a gift for is him. “If you’re not grateful, I’ll tie you back up and sell you for a nice price as soon as we get to land again, little fish. Wouldn’t be the first. Don’t test my limits or I will test yours,” his voice grows so very close, face way too close to yours. Never mind, not harsh enough. You can’t help but want to shove him back, but his hold is too strong on your wrists. His words give you shivers down your spine, because you know he means it. You pull back again, and tilt your face away from him. Too much, too much— 

“Baekhyun,” that calm, deep voice suddenly mumbles, and you can’t help the relief that fills your chest, “let the girl go.” Kyungsoo, though he just lifts a simple eyebrow in your direction, looks livid. It expresses in the line that digs deep between his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth that are genuinely down-turned. You freeze, as well as Baekhyun does, because both of you seemingly had not expected anyone to help. But you’re oh so grateful.

“Come on, Kyungsoo, let me play with her just a little bit!” the other whines, wrapping his arm around your waist as you struggle against him. “You never nag like this when other women are present. Just because she’s a pretty, little Princess doesn’t mean that I can’t tease her. Should I tease you a bit,” he asks you then, glints still flickering in his eyes. You don’t want to be teased. Not by him at least, you think, glaring up at the attractive guy, who suddenly looks so much less pleasant. He really doesn’t seem to notice that the game has long died for you, and that you just want him to let you go now. But with Kyungsoo standing so close, you’re not scared to push against the other man harder, shoving him to let go of you. But Baekhyun is quick, and his hand snakes around your arm, grip painful on you now. “Come on, sweetheart, I won’t bite.”

“I don’t care, you’re gross and this dress is not a gift to anyone but you! You care about no one but yourself, I can’t even believe I was starting to not despise you!” you snap at him, feeling a warmth around your other hand now. Kyungsoo is holding your free one, clenched tight in his. If it’s for your support, or his own, you’re not quite sure. It doesn’t seem to deter Baekhyun, in fact, it’s as if he’s able to look straight through Kyungsoo. Like a bull seeing red.

“If you want me to sort you out, you just have to ask, Princess. I’ll treat your precious, rich girl body so well that you can never spread your legs again unless I tell you to.” The grin he was wearing has long worn off, eyes so sharp that you don’t want to keep them. When he wants to step closer to you again, Kyungsoo pulls his friend back by his shoulder.

“Let. her. go,” the bassy thrill of his voice makes the hairs on your neck stand up. “I’m not telling you again.”

The dirty look that Baekhyun sends the other is vicious. “Why? No one else is allowed to play with your property, is it?” Though he seems to be getting more ferocious, he loosens the grip on you. “You’re delusional, Kyungsoo. You’re just as bad of a person as I am, I don’t know why you’re acting like a saint here. Why don’t you let go of her?! At least I never put a scar on her face.” You, seemingly forgotten, fall from his hand entirely, as he closes in on the other man. “I saw you looking at her too, I’m just not afraid to admit to it. You’re delusional,” he repeats. “At least I don’t expect her to suddenly fix what a shitty human I am! Unlike you, I have self-respect!” When you step forward automatically, Kyungsoo’s hand pushes you back away, keeping you out of reach. You’re not sure why you care, but Baekhyun looks frantic. Like he can’t see the world around him anymore, too drilled down in this emotion of anger to care.

“Baekhyun, snap out,” Kyungsoo solemnly replies, not backing down when Baekhyun shoves him against the shoulder. He doesn’t even seem to listen to the words thrown at his face, Something in the Captain’s expression makes you feel like he feels at least as sad for the other as you do, if not more. Your eyes narrow a bit as you watch the both of them from the sidelines. You want to help, but you wouldn’t know how. It’s truly as if the older sees black from all sides, and Kyungsoo knows. “Hey, breathe. I’m not your enemy.”

“Fuck off, Kyungsoo! You don’t know me!” Baekhyun basically growls at his friend, pushing past him. The man stomps away with his fists clenched so tight that his bones peek out white through his skin. You stare after him until he disappears into the stairway, leaving you both standing here in silence. All your energy has depleted, and the urge to sink to the floor floods over you. But you stay standing, and instead turn back to Kyungsoo.

“Thank y-” Don’t, a voice in the back of your mind screams like an echo of your previous anger, making you swallow the rest of that. 

What Kyungsoo did was only what any other person would do. You don’t need to thank him for being a sane human being! Baekhyun was all up on you, because you’ve been taken as a captive here! You know your frustration is speaking now, but can’t help be mad. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to notice your mental tug-of-war. “Don’t— hold it against him, if you can. Baekhyun doesn’t mean to be this way, he hates it too,” his voice seems to die down the longer he speaks. “He just can’t… he wasn’t always like that. Some things still give him a very difficult time, and he has a hard time snapping out of it by himself.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes as he takes a few steps back, staring instead at your shoulder or something behind it. “I brought the rest of your stuff down. Baekhyun bought you some new things too. He thought you might like to get out of that one dress you have.” A soft sigh, as he looks at you again, storm-colored eyes dripping down your skin, as if soothing you from afar. “He seems to really like you, you’re kind to him. He hasn’t had a lot of that in life yet.”

“Right,” you just respond, biting your lips as you give a tense nod, not able to aim it towards him fully. He seems to understand, and gives a soft, understanding hum. Kyungsoo walks back after that, picking some of the thick ropes from the floor and hoisting them over his shoulder, before walking out of your view. And though you might not be able to admit it out loud, you say it internally with every fiber of your being. Thank you, Kyungsoo. Really.

     🌊🌊🌊      🌊🌊🌊      🌊🌊🌊    

.next part. 30.01.2020  as soon as possible

next part up tomorrow if all goes well!! thank you so much for reading his beast up ‘till here already~ it would mean the absolute world if you could sent me something about this one because i felt like deleting it all more times than i’d like to admit! hope you enjoyed and love you ♡♡♡

tag list @chanyeolol​ @ninibears-erigom​​ @suhoerections​ @kimjongdaely​ @byunfirstlady​ @greenmetalroof​ and @spring-medley​ pirate!kyungsoo is finally here ♡ thank you so much for helping me through this and being excited for it

[vanilladyfics]

Yakitori Time

Ship: Denki Kaminari x Assumed Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, First Words Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight sexuality, Mineta mention

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary:  Denki Kaminari, like most people, was born with the first words his soulmate will say to him written on his chest.  The words tell him where he’ll meet his soulmate, just not when.  Denki is not a patient man.

Do not repost.

----

“Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

Denki Kaminari had seen the words in the mirror so many times, he could write them backwards.  Ever since quirks first started appearing, more and more people were born with words tattooed across their heart, supposedly guiding people to their soulmates.  Most of his friends had simple, generic greetings.  Every day platitudes that could, and have, mislead people to believing any given stranger could be their destined mate.  Sure, he got teased for it back in middle school, but at least his was unique.  Millions of people were walking around with “Hi” or “Nice to meet you” across their chest with no clue where their soulmate might be, but he had a solid lead.  No doubt those old locker room bullies were just envious he knew where to look, even if it was a grilled chicken place that, last he checked, didn't exist.

Denki turned his phone back on after another grueling library study session with Bakugo.  He had five missed messages, all from Mineta.

What's the name of that chicken place again?

The next message was a selfie of Mineta and half of the shot was taken up by a woman's butt in leggings.  Nice.  He almost missed the sign Mineta was pointing to in the background:  Yakitori Time.  Another shot of just the top of Mineta's head and the sign again, this time with the grand opening banner above.

They'll kick me out if I don't keep eating.  Bring money.  Plz.

“Oi!  What's with the face?”

Denki showed his friend the second picture.  “It's from Mineta.  He found it. Yakitori Time.”  He cradled the phone in his hands, feeling something between awe and disbelief.  No one he knew met their soulmate this young.  He liked girls, he really liked girls, but didn't know what he'd actually do if he had one.

“And you're just standing here?  Didn't take you for a coward.”

The last message was just the address.  He knew the street.  He could be there in ten minutes if he ran.  He ran.

Denki knew the place immediately from the large Grand Opening banner and chicken mascot outside.  He could see just how crowded it was through the glass windows.  Any one of those people could be his destined mate. Denki's mouth felt dry.  He was already sweaty from his sprint from UA and regretted not changing out of his uniform.  He could meet his future wife today with his hair standing on end and his shirt wet with pit stains.  He could still go change.  Come back fresh tomorrow.

Mineta made eye contact through the glass, waving frantically.

Nope.  It was today.

He'd do it fast, like ripping off a bandage.  Denki pushed the double doors open with both hands, the air conditioning blasting cool air on his hot face.

The entire staff greeted him as one, “Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

This was going to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

---

Years passed, and everyone at Yakitori Time knew about Chargebolt, the Stun Gun Hero. He stopped by a couple times a week, and the corner table was unofficially dubbed “Denki's table” with autographed pictures of him posing with staff hanging above it.  Some the veteran staff still called him by his first name, and the owner loved the free advertising that came with having his restaurant's name emblazoned across the chest of one of Japan's up-and-coming heartthrob heroes.

Denki was greeted with the familiar chorus of “Welcome to Yakitori Time!” when dropped in after his Saturday patrol, followed by some of the older waitstaff calling out to him by name.  It was nice, having been informally adopted into a found family by so many people.  None of them were the person he'd been hoping to find when he first came by, but he thought, maybe, they were who he needed.

The owner came out and hugged Denki when he approached the front desk.  “How have you been?  We've been getting lonely without you.”

Denki laughed.  The place was so busy he doubted he'd been missed.  “Good, good. Great, actually.  Any newbies for me?”

Since seeing Denki's soulmate tattoo, the owner, Mr. Please-Call-Me-Dad, had taken it upon himself to assign all the new hires to work Denki's table. At first it was exciting, and then mortifying, but now it was... nice, knowing he had someone in his corner, even if it was embarrassing to have all the new employees paraded around him like livestock.  It was probably worse for them.

“Just one.  A real cutie.  Your usual table is taken, but I can put you by the window.”

“Anywhere's fine, Dad.”

Denki took his seat, ignoring the gawkers outside by pretending to read the menu. Only the pictures had changed since the grand opening, and he knew them all by heart.

Denki felt you before he saw you.

“Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

He heard the phrase hundreds of times before, but this time was different.  His quirk discharged slightly, sending electric currents buzzing through his veins and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.  His mouth suddenly felt dry and he was immediately reminded of the nervous, sweaty teenager he was when he first stepped into Yakitori Time.

“--My name's [Y/N] and I'll be your server today.  Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“It's you, isn't it?”

You continued on autopilot, “We have Pepsi products, fresh-brewed iced tea, and our drink specials for today are peach sake and our house white wine.”

“It's you,” Denki smiled, “[Y/N].”

You blinked, truly seeing him for the first time-- his wide, full mouth; his thick, dark lashes; the way his Adam's apple caught on his choker when he spoke. Your heart was running away with you and your brain was struggling to keep up.  “I'm... not on the menu.”

Denki flushed, “No-- I mean, yes!  I mean... the words... on your chest... what do they say?”

“I...”  You placed a hand over your heart, as if to hide the words under your polo.  You could feel your heartbeat thundering.  You knew what they said, but what did he say?  You cursed yourself for not paying more attention.  The man in front of you could have just said the words you waited your whole life to hear and you just missed it? “It's... 'It's you, isn't it.'”  Your eyes stung with tears.  You sniffed, your nose suddenly runny.

You snorted.

He laughed.

Oh God, you just met your soulmate and now you had a giant snot bubble coming out of your nose.

Denki stood, “Can I hug you?”

“I'm snotty.”

“I don't care.” Denki pulled you in as your hands slipped under his hero jacket and up his back.  He hummed contentedly into your hair, “I'd order you, you know.  If you were on the menu.”

You laughed into his chest, “You're a total dork.  I bet you have hundreds of those lines.”

“Millions.  All for you.”  Cameras flashed.  He'd pose for another photo for the wall and sign autographs later.  This moment was yours.

[mackwritess]

Westwood Road (Part 2)

A/N: I’m back with a second part! This was another commission, I didn’t think people liked the first part enough to want more of these two, but I guess I was wrong! My commissions are still open, with three slots available currently, so if you like what I do feel free to hit me with your own requests!

Summary: It’s been years since the incident on Westwood Road, and the two of them have long since gone their separate ways. But when an opprotunity to be reunited presents itself, will the risks be worth the reward?

Word count: 5.8k

Part 1

He doesn’t know how long he sits in the dark.

For all he knows, the dark is all he’s ever known. He sits there, waiting. Waiting for what exactly, he doesn’t know for sure. He just feels like this is the calm before the storm. Though he feels, upon thinking about it a bit longer, that this is more like the eye of the storm. 

After all, he was just killed by someone he loved. 

No, that doesn’t quite sound right either. He does still love her. He knows he probably shouldn’t, given the way she had just ripped him apart like a rabid animal, but he can’t bring herself to harbor any negative feelings about her. His only regret is not asking how she’d ended up in such a tragic situation. If the tears that streamed down her face as she finished him off were anything to go by, it must have been devastating. 

He continues to just sit there in the all encompassing darkness. He wonders if he’ll ever be reunited with her again. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see her smile again, or hear her voice.

While he’s lost in thought, memories drifting in and out of his mind, he doesn’t notice the way things are beginning to grow brighter around him. He doesn’t notice until the light is near blinding, and he finds himself losing consciousness again. 

~

It’s been years since she did what she did.

She’d convinced herself that she would move on and, in a way, she has. She continues to feed, preying on men and women alike as she sustains herself on their souls. In all this time, none of them had the same effect on her. She was able to do the same process that she had done with him with very little trouble. She was so certain this meant she had moved on.

Deep down she knew she hadn’t. 

Even after all this time, the way he had looked at her before she took his life sits at the back of her mind, coming forward at the worst possible moment without fail. 

Sometimes it comes to her just before she falls asleep, rendering her unable to do so for several hours, if she gets to at all. Other times, it comes when she’s about to feed, when she’s already planning where she’ll go to catch her next one. Suddenly, her prey becomes the predator, looking back at her with his forgiving eyes rather than the terrified ones they’d replaced. She’s taken back to the moment before she committed what she considers to be her greatest sin. Though he wasn’t fully composed, the fear of death as paralyzing as ever, his eyes told a different story. It was one of forgiveness, of acceptance. 

It was one of love. 

Sometimes she wonders if she’ll ever see him again. Perhaps he’d be traveling the world as a spirit, unable to move on from his mortal dwelling. Though she figures he’s likely become an angel by now. Helping others where he can, protecting them from things that may come to harm them. Protecting them from beings like her.

She knows he couldn’t have become something like her. It’s not in his nature.

While he had been able to accept his end, remembering all their moments together with fondness rather than regret, she hadn’t been able to do the same. Instead of remembering any good that had happened between her and the man that had ended her life, she found herself thinking about all the red flags that she had looked past. The way she had ultimately pushed away her friends and family who tried to warn her floated through her mind. She wished she’d listened to them. 

Now she was doomed, her soul tainted with spite and vengefulness. She was to wander the earth, inflicting the same pain tht had been done unto her, only able to survive by causing heartbreak that could rival her own. 

She wonders if the man who killed her had wanted to do the same. Reveling in the damage he had done to her, for fun rather than for survival. She thinks he was her first encounter with a demon. No person could be that evil without corruption. Though she fears she’s become like him.

She wonders if the cycle will ever break. If she’ll ever be free of her curse.

~

When he wakes up again, he’s disoriented.

The room is covered in a blinding white. The white curtains that hang in front of the window move slightly, a light breeze flowing into the room. There’s not a single sound coming from inside or outside of the room. He takes in his minimal surroundings, noting the chair sitting at the edge of the bed. The walls are as bare as the rest of the room, save for a rather intricate painting of clouds that rests near the door. It’s redundant, he thinks. It’s as if whoever was responsible for designing this pace felt it was too plain, but decided any sort of color would disturb the flow of the room. 

He continues scanning the room, searching for something, anything, that could tell him where he is, when there’s a knock at the door. He freezes. Should he be hiding right now? Would making any sounds alert whoever, or whatever was on the other side of the door? 

As if able to sense his apprehensiveness, the door opens slightly. It continues slowly, and he doesn’t dare move an inch. When it does open, he’s met with a young woman. She wears a simple white dress, and carries a clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached to the front of it. 

“There’s no need to be alarmed,” she says. “You’re safe now.”

“Where am I?” He asks immediately. He can’t quite explain it, but her presence soothes him instantly. He finds any worries he has have melted away, and now he only has questions that need answers.

“Heaven, of course. You do know that you’re dead, right?” He nods. “Well, you’re certainly handling this better than most people your age do.”

“I didn’t think heaven would be so… clinical.”

“We’ve tried modernizing the way we welcome new angels.”

“It’s a little…”

“Plain?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s no real reason for that. Just how it is.” He nods again. “Were those all your questions?”

“What’s the clipboard for?”

“Oh! That’s actually what I’m here to go over with you. You see, once you die, the place you end up after assigns a job to you.”

“So we don’t just get to enjoy the afterlife?”

“You do, just as long as you’re on top of assignments. It’s just so we can keep things running smoothly. Gives the people here a purpose.”

“So it’s like having a job.”

“Exactly! Only the payment is living in paradise.”

He considers this for a moment. Everything he’d been told about what Heaven is like has been a little misleading, it would seem. Though, he guesses that angels who visited humans in all the stories he’d heard were just doing their job. He tries not to think too hard about what that implies.

“So how do I choose my job?”

“Oh, you don’t choose. Your assignment is chosen when it’s decided where you’ll go after you die. Easier to get both of those examinations done in one go. Much faster that way.” 

“But what if someone gets a job they aren’t happy with?”

“They learn to be happy with it eventually. Each job is rewarding in its own way.”

“I guess so.”

“You’ll understand more the longer you stay.” The woman clears her throat. “Now then! Let’s talk about your job. Your file says that you tend to go out of your way to help people. You were fairly popular in high school. A shame that you died so young. You really didn’t get to live much of your life.”

“I’d rather not think about that too much.”

“Your manner of death, though, that’s what really interests us.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Oh, this is a great thing. It’s the reason you’re getting the job you’re getting. We’ve been trying to deal with this type of demon for a while now. So many souls, unable to be saved.”

“Why?”

“Well, we don’t really base where you’ll go on your whole life. We base it on your emotions during your final moments. Really says a lot about you as a person. Much more than you realize.”

“So the people who died the way I did? What were they feeling?”

“Rage. Vengeance. Bloodlust. They wanted the person who had betrayed them to pay for what they’d done. They wanted them to suffer as they had.”

“But isn’t that normal? Isn’t it reasonable to be angry that someone you loved would hurt you?”

“Maybe. But forgiveness should follow. That’s what we’ve all been taught. And that’s why you’re the only one who’s been saved.”

“The only one?”

“Understanding. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Those were the last things you felt before your death. We’d never seen that before. More interesting, though, you felt love. You were still under the spell of that demon.”

“A spell?” His voice raises slightly at the mention of her. “She never used any spell on me. I love her.”

The woman eyes him for a moment, mild concern written on her features. 

“You poor boy. One day you’ll be free.”

“From what?”

“Nothing. Now, your job is similar to a guardian angel, albeit a bit more dangerous. You’ll be helping more people free themselves from these demons. Or, at the very least, you can warn them by telling them what will happen if their emotions lean too negatively when the time finally comes.”

“Okay. I think I can do that. But why is it so dangerous?” 

“In doing your job you're essentially taking away a demon’s source of food. Much like a wild animal, this will make them more dangerous. We usually leave a job like this to our more experienced angels, but seeing as you know first hand how these demons work, you should be just fine.”

He’s silent for a moment. He didn’t think there were very many demons who operated the way she did. Certainly not enough to cause such a problem that it would be considered dangerous. His heart hurts at the thought of so many people suffering the way she had. He wonders if there’s a way for him to help the demons themselves as well as their prey. 

“Will I ever find her again?” He opts to ask.

“I doubt that. None of us know her name?”

“What? But-”

“Demon’s names hold power. If someone knows the true name of a demon, then they’re basically owned by that person. They usually go by cover names.”

“And you don’t know hers?”

“No, I do. But you can’t know that information. You could end up going rogue, and we can’t have an asset as valuable as you doing something like that.” 

“Rogue?”

“You know them as fallen angels. You’d essentially become a powerful demon. I’m sure you can understand why we wouldn’t want such a thing.”

“Could a demon become an angel?”

“That’s not possible. Their place was already decided. There is no way for them to rise in status, no matter how much they believe they have redeemed themselves.”

“But that’s-”

“I know. It seems harsh, judging someone based on a single moment. But that’s the way things are here.” 

He’s speechless. He wamts to do this job, that much is for sure. He wants to save people from having everything taken from them the way he had. He’s got all the motive he needs to do the tasks given, not really afraid of the potential danger of this new proffession.

He just wishes there was a way from him to save her.

~

This is probably the worst attempt at feeding she’s had to suffer through in a long time.

It seemed easy enough when she first stumbled across him. A strange man who’d never even been in a relationship. He would be quick work, she’d thought. He’d fall for her in a week, three at the most. That’s what she’d assumed. 

It’s been about four weeks now, and she can’t lure the guy away from his house for long enough to finish the job.

It wouldn’t be as bad, all things considered, if the guys weren't also a total freak. He’s definitely not someone she feels any sympathy for. He’d started pressuring her into sleeping with him a week into the relationship, which would’ve been the first red flag to anyone who knew how to spot them. She’d managed to convince him that she wanted to wait, and he agreed, deciding that her reluctance made her more “worthy” of him when the time came.

She thinks he’s full of shit.

She’s tried everything to lure him away, from telling him that she wanted to take him out to dinner to telling him that she had some sort of surprise for him that needed to happen outside the city. Just her luck she’d find prey that was essentially a hermit. She’d only come across him when he was out buying computer parts. Today, though, she was at her limit. 

It was when he’d berated her for her choice in clothing, a simple tank top and jeans combination, that she’d decided that she’d let his pathetic existence go on for much longer than what was necessary. 

It takes finally giving in to his request of hooking up with her to pull him away from the basement he was living in. She imagines his soul won’t be particularly tasty, but at this point, she’s more worried about having someone like him taking up valuable space on earth than anything else.

She brings him to the outskirts of the city, his greasy hands finding their way all over her body on the way. She can’t wait to be done with him. He’s so focused on trying to make her focus on him that he doesn’t notice the way her eyes flash red with every press to her skin.

She’s so focused on trying not to kill the man right then and there that she doesn’t notice she’s being watched.

~

She managed to convince him that allowing him to tie her up would be a good idea, and he agreed, noticing that the building they’re in is run down, but too concerned with what he thinks is about to happen to interrupt her. 

“C’mon, Miranda, when do we get started? I’ve gotta be back home for this tournament.”

She flinches at the use of her name, or at least what he thinks is her name. Somehow it doesn’t make her feel any less dirty. 

“Oh, you poor soul, you don’t realize the danger you’re in. Not that it matters.”

“What danger? Does this building have asbestos or something? Why would you bring us here, are you really that stupid?”

Her eye twitches at the comment, but she makes the decision to ignore it. He’s the fool here, after all.

“It’s not that you should be worried about, though you’re probably right about the chemicals. This building has been around for centuries. Great place to harvest a soul.” The man lets out a nervous chuckle.

“What are you, like, one of those fake vampire people?” 

“A vampire? You don’t even know enough to know what it is they do? The most explored mythical creature in existence?”

“I don’t need the likes of you telling me what I do and don’t know. Let me go, you’ve ruined the mood. Maybe I’ll let you try again in a week.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? Let me out of here!”

“Ah, you’re another one that doesn’t get it. Frankly, I’ve wasted enough time on you, so I’ll just spell it out for you. I’m a demon and I’m here to consume your soul.” His eyes widen, but he says nothing. She continues. “Ideally I would’ve been done with you a week ago. But you’re such a pathetic waste of a person that I couldn’t even get you out for long enough.”

“So this is what you do? Trick men so you can eat us?”

“Yup. You made the hard part easy, too. You were wrapped around my finger the second I rejected you. Strange behavior, if you ask me.”

“You bitch, you won’t get away with this!”

“You’re not even that original. A misogynist named Kyle? Give me a break”

Her eyes begin to change from their warm brown to a harsh crimson. She opens her mouth, rows of inhumanly sharp teeth appearing seemingly out of nowhere. When she does, she can feel her body begin regaining energy, his soul draining from his body and entering hers. She watches as the life drains from his eyes, growing duller the more of his soul he loses. When the light is gone, she reverts back to her human form, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Wow, that was exhausting. Never going after one of these types ever again.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t like the way he treated you.”

She freezes. It’s happening again. She hasn’t imagined his voice in such a long time. It hasn’t crossed her mind in months. Why now? Why after all this time? 

“I know you’re not real,” She says. “I’m just hearing things again. Go away.”

“Again? So you’ve heard me before?”

“You know I have.”

“How could I know that? I haven’t seen you since the day I lost you.”

“Since you lost me... You don’t talk like that. Where’s the ‘you did this to me’ speech?”

“Turn around. I’m real.”

She’s unconvinced. She knows this is her mind playing a dirty trick on her. A simple rewording of what it usually tells her won’t get her hopes up. Still, she decides to play along. She turns, slowly, like a model on a runway showing off their every angle. She figures that she’s already on the edge of her sanity as it is, and she closes her eyes too, making it a bit of a game. Her turning comes to a stop.

“Alrighty, go ahead and tell me when I can open my eyes. Really make me look even more unhinged than I feel. Let’s have fun with this.”

~

He can’t believe that after all this time, she’s right in front of him.

She’s just as beautiful as he remembered. He’d just watched her consume a soul, a soul which he’d been sent to save, but he can’t find himself feeling anything other than pure joy at the sight of her. He thanks his lucky stars that he was assigned to this case, he was starting to lose hope that he would ever see her again. 

He’s thinking about what she said. She’d been hearing his voice before he found her. Killing him really had taken a toll on her, it would seem. At this realization, he thinks back to what he had been told so long ago.

“Her kind don’t form connections to the people they kill,” the woman says. “They’re heartless creatures. It’s best that you accept that now rather than finding out later.”

“Is it just something that doesn’t happen often? Or is it difficult for them to do it?”

“No. It’s impossible. You really need to let that girl go. She’s out there right now forming the same type of relationship with other people as she did with you. You were nothing but something for her to use.”

“Right. A food source.”

“Exactly. You’ll feel better once you move on. For now, just focus on your work.”

He did exactly that. He’d managed to save many people in the time since he'd begun his job. Luckily, he’s been able to avoid every demon he’s managed to swindle out of a meal. Until now, that is.

This is the first mission he’s ever failed. Surely, he would be questioned about what happened, and he knew he would have to make something up. But seeing the way this particular person acted, especially after he found out it was her he was talking about in such a disrespectful way, he decided he had no qualms about letting him die, taking advantage of his luck so that he could get the answers to his questions. He needed to know if he really should be moving on, or if he should be looking for a cure.

“You can open your eyes. It really is me,” He says. She scoffs.

“You better leave me alone for good after this.” She wastes no time in letting her eyes fly open. When she does, she looks unimpressed. “Oh, you haven’t done this little trick in a while. I suppose you expected me to run forward only for you to turn to dust, right?”

“You can touch me. I’m real. I came to see you.”

“Prove it then. Walk forward. All the way over here to me. I’m just dying to see what you’ll do when you get here.” 

He obeys immediately, making his way over and resisting the urge to run over to keep from alarming her. He stands right in front of her now, and she continues to give him the same unimpressed gaze. She still doesn’t believe what she’s seeing. 

It’s when he makes the bold move to wrap his arms around her that she goes quiet.

~

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. This is just an intense delusion of hers. 

He’s warm, that’s the first thing she takes note of. He’s got a tight hold on her, almost as if he’s afraid that he’ll leave him again. Against her better judgement, she leans into his embrace, taking in his scent.

“You’re real,” she says. “You’re really here.”

“I’m real,” he confirms. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“But why?” She asks. “I’m the reason you ended up this way. You’re supposed to hate me.”

“I could never hate you. Not when I understand why you do what you do. I won’t punish you for doing something out of your control.” 

She finds herself relaxing in his hold. She hasn’t been able to relax in such a long time. It’s not what she was made to do. It’s entirely out of her nature to do such a thing. She’s never been able to stick to her own rules when it comes to him, though. Still, she pushes him away.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not with me. You could get in trouble.”

“You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am, don’t be ridiculous.”

He seems to consider her words for a moment. 

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” She thinks a moment before nodding. “There’s a way for me to cure you, I know there is, but I need to know that this is what you want.”

“What? That’s not possible.”

“No, there’s a way. I just need time. I’m not gonna let them keep us apart like this. I just need you to trust me.”

She already trusts him, though. She doesn’t need any convincing. She only worries about what will happen to him if he’s caught. 

“You can’t help me. It’s against your rules. You could get in serious trouble.”

“I don’t care. As long as your burden is lifted, I’ll be happy.” She says nothing. “I’m going to get you out of this. But we’ll need to be apart again for some time. Stay safe until that day.”

She doesn’t bother arguing with him. He’s always been this way, setting his mind to something and not stopping until he gets what he wants. It’s a trait of his that she always admired. She’s afraid that this time, it may be his downfall. He’s challenging forces he’s only just begun to understand. 

But she’s tired of them too. She doesn’t care what happens to her, but if this is something that can cause a change, she’ll do it.

“Okay,” she says. “I want this. I trust you.”

He grabs her by the waist and pulls her close to him again, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, before backing away again. 

“I’ll see you soon. I promise.” With the flash of a bright light, he disappears, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts, and the shell of the soul she had eaten.

For the first time since she lost him, she breaks down.

~

When he returns home, the first thing he does is report what happened to him.

Not all of it, of course, he can’t mention that he’d finally found her. That would only anger them. They would likely restrict his activities, making his mission more difficult than it likely already will be. The people in charge tell him that because of his great work in other cases, one failed case was nothing to worry about, so he could just go about his day until he received his next assignment. 

While he waited, he went to visit the person who would help him to do what he needed to do. He knocks lightly on the door, and upon hearing the quiet “come in” on the other side of the door, he lets himself in

“Oh, it’s you again. Don’t tell me you’re here to find more ways around the curse.” The woman says.

After being here for several years now, he’s met tons of people. Though, he’s never bonded with someone the way he has with Kora, an elderly woman whose death came to her in her sleep. In her life she had been a witch doctor, dabbling in spells that could transform things into different objects, cause misfortune for others, and yes, lift curses. 

“I don’t need to do that.”

“Sure,” Kora says. “I just made tea, come have some.”

He sits down at her kitchen table, and she turns to pour him a cup, placing it in front of him before pouring one for herself and taking a seat. 

“I really don’t need to find a way around the curse, Kora. I found her today. She wants to do this.”

Kora looks up at him, expecting him to tell her he was just joking. But when she sees the way his eyes sparkle, unbridled hope written in them, she knows he’s serious. She lets out a sigh.

“Well, I did say I’d help you. I’m a woman of my word.” He smiles. “But you’re risking a lot here. If it doesn’t work, you could risk everything. Not just for you, but for both of you.”

“That’s fine. Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

“So, it’s not the procedure that takes much effort. It’s the aftermath. The main step is finding the man who killed her, in order for her vengeance to be achieved. Lucky for you, he’s still alive.”

“Sounds easy enough. It didn’t take much for her to tear me up,” he says with a chuckle.

“However, once she does this, she’ll be reborn. This would separate the two of you, leaving you behind to deal with the consequences, on top of defeating the purpose of you doing this.”

“I can’t accept us getting separated from each other. Not again.”

“There is a way for the two of you to be reborn together. But it is difficult. You’ll have to have bonded to her. Seeing as she’s a demon, the only way for you to do that is for you to get her name.”

“She didn’t even tell me that when we were alive.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. In the end, will she have trusted you enough to give you this information? Will she love you enough to make herself so vulnerable?” He says nothing. “Even so, there’s no guarantee that in your next life the two of you will meet. That will also depend on how strong your bond is. You could end up in entirely different countries, even.”

He thinks about this. Now that he knows what will be required, he’s hit with the weight of what exactly it is he’s risking here. If he’s unsuccessful, he'll have to face the wrath of the angels he’d betrayed. If he succeeds, he doesn’t even know if he’ll get the result he’s really after.

But then he thinks of her. No matter the outcome, she’ll be freed from her curse. She’ll get to live the life she didn’t get to before. More than his desire to be with her, he wants her to have the life she deserves.

“I’ll do it. I don’t care about the risks. I’m going to do it.” Kora sighs.

“Alright, then. I’ll tell you where the man is, but the rest is up to you.” He rises from his seat and makes his way over to her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“I’ll be okay, Kora. Everything will be fine.”

He makes his way out of her home after talking a bit more with her. He knows that regardless of what happens, he won’t see her again after this. 

She watches him leave, and for his sake, she hopes that if she is to hear about him again, it won’t be a story of a young man who risked everything for the wrong person.

~

When they arrive at their destination, she feels a chill run up her spine.

It’s late. They wanted to be certain that no one would be around when they did what they came to do. Things would be less messy that way.

“He’s in a church?” He asks, confused. She rolls her eyes.

“I expect nothing less from him. He always did hide behind a facade. This is the best one yet.”

The two of them head in, and hide amongst a few churchgoers that linger inside. She assumes that there was a late night church service being held here. They must’ve come at the end, and she’s thankful. The thought of having to actually listen to him pretend to be a good man makes her sick to her stomach. 

They linger until the church is empty, and she sees him head to the back, leading to the basement that she knows all too well. She grabs his hand and leads him in that direction, bringing him to the door that leads deeper into the church.

“Are you sure you’re ready to face him again?’

“I’m sure. It’s about time I see him again. This is long overdue.” Her eyes flash red for a moment, and he decides to stop asking questions.

She pushes the door open, and makes her way down the stairs with him following close behind her. She sees the man at the back of the room, rifling through boxes, and wastes no time in letting him know she’s here.

“Well, well, well.” The man freezes. “Been a while since we were down here, huh? Sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real,” the man mutters to himself.

“Oh, so you do feel guilty about what you did to me? Could’ve fooled me. Your little holy man cosplay is quite interesting.”

“Why are you here?”

“Look me in the eye, coward.” Afraid of provoking her, he turns to face her, slowly. “Much better.”

“How are you here? What are you?”

“This question gets more annoying the more i hear it, you know. Figure it out yourself, holy man.”

“What do you want from me? Please go away.”

“Oh no. Not yet. See him?” she points to where he stands, standing a little distance behind her. “I want you to tell him what you did to me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Tell him why you thought my life needed to end.”

“I had to. You know what would have happened.” the man turns to him. “She knew what she was doing.”

“You didn’t have to do anything.”

“They would have disowned me!”

“So a little premarital sex is an issue, but murder is cool? Got it. Anything to keep your dirty little secret, right?”

The room is silent. Now that the truth is out there, now that he knows what happened to her, he understands why no one knows her name. 

“I guess I should’ve expected this, right?” She continues, “After getting involved with the preacher’s son? And you got to go on, right? Continued living? Taking up after your dad? And what did I get? Cursed. Dooming people to the same fate you forced me into. But today, that changes.”

“You dare to claim that what I did wasn’t justified? You wanted to ruin me!”

“I wanted to be with you. In public. I didn’t wanna be a secret.”

“You convinced me to commit a sin. You haven’t earned the right to love, I could’ve been great. Instead, I’m stuck in this town, in the middle of nowhere, trying to make up for something that you did.”

“You did this to yourself.” she says. Her eyes quickly change to that harsh red he had seen before, and he knows what’s about to happen before the man does. “I don’t need to prove my worth. To you, or to anyone. You were nothing in life, and now, you’ll be nothing in death.”

Before he can even get a word in, she’s latched onto him, ripping him apart in the very same room where her existence was cut short.

~

A few moments of silence go by before she begins to glow slightly. 

“It’s happening. I did it, I broke the curse.”

“You did. You’re free now.”

“But what about you? Why aren’t you glowing too?”

“We haven’t bonded enough. It’s okay though, I wouldn’t have wanted you forced into doing something. You’ve been through enough.”

“No! No, tell me. I’ll do it.” He knows she won’t, but she won’t remember him when she’s reborn anyway.

“I needed your name.”

She looks at him. She’s so close, so close to being free from that person. She can’t be bound to her again. She can’t say her name. 

Taking note of her silence, He grabs the sides of the face, and pulls her in for a kiss, putting everything he has into it, as he knows it’ll be the last time. He whispers an “I love you” before looking her in the eyes to be sure she knows.

It’s at this moment, as her glow is becoming blinding, that she realizes this is a decision she can make herself. Finally, she’s the one who gets to make a choice. Instead of misery, this time, she chooses happiness. She just hopes it isn’t too late.

“My real name is..”

~

Somewhere, in another part of the world, a baby girl is born to a family that had been trying to conceive a child for years. They know this is the most precious gift they’ll ever receive.

Minutes later, in that same hospital, a baby boy is born. 

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story about something crashing on little Sammy parents farm. Maybe the government comes and forces them out for a while to collect it?👽

Warning for disturbing imagery and dead animals!

Summary: Joey Drew Studio is snowed in, so while everyone tries to keep warm for the night they end up reminiscing about the oddest things they had ever experienced. Sammy ends up recalling a rather bizarre event from his childhood.

---

[[MORE]]

"I'm sorry to impose so much Mrs. Harrison. I trust Abigail will behave, she's a little angel I assure you." Sammy fidgeted with the phone chord nervously as he listened to his elderly neighbor. "Yes, yes thank you... Oh certainly! Let her on so I can wish her a good night..."

Susie watched as the tired look on the music director's face melted away to welcome a gentler smile. She could sort of hear a child's voice on the line (his little sister that he'd mentioned a few times). It was quite endearing to see Sammy with such a calm and content expression instead of the usual grumpy scrawl that scared half the band into submission.

"Good night Abby, be good to Mrs. Harrison." The call was coming to a close. "I love you too."

Susie smiled at him and nodded, taking her turn to call home now that he was finished.

"Wally is heating up soup in the break room. The stove's thankfully working." She called after him as she dialed the number.

"Everyone camping out there?" He asked as he looked back at the voice actress.

"Everyone but Joey, that devil of a man actually has an insulated office... The rest of us are sleeping by the stove." She sighed "Thankfully Norman and Grant thought ahead and brought a few blankets to stay warm."

Clever thinking and also a necessity, as Grant's office was very drafty, and Norman's booth got cold from the pipework frosting over a bit (since the music department had been a repurposed bathroom) in cold weather. Mr. Cohen also knew the likelyhood of Joey having paid the heating bill. Slim to none.

"Great... Just what I wanted, to sleep in a stuffy room full of people and the smell of that rancid soup..." A soup he'd enjoyed at first (due to it reminding him of his father's cauliflower soup which had little bits of bacon in it), but which had lost its luster on the third week of being asked to take a few cans home. Abby hated the stuff so he'd had to eat it himself. "Don't you just love getting snowed in?"

"Only when I was a child. The snow usually meant no classes." Susie finished dialing and waited for her mother to answer.

He left her alone to go back into the break room where Wally and Norman were passing around bowls of soup. Grant greeted him with a blanket, which he graciously took. The damn studio was absolutely freezing in November. The freak snowstorm hadn't helped.

Honestly he'd loved the look of a snowy New York when he'd first moved here with his father. It had looked beautiful and new, almost magical, unlike the ranch he'd grown up in until he was 11. Looking back now, he missed the expanse of snowy fields instead of the cold streets. He also missed watching a few of the animals play in the snow.

Getting stuck in the studio made him a little nostalgic.

"Here ya go Sammy!" Wally passed him a bowl of soup, which he nearly dropped in surprise, and grinned "It ain't my ma's beef stew and it definitely lacks a spoon since we don't got that many of those to begin with, but at least it'll keep you warm from the inside!"

"I, yes at least that." He sniffed it and grimaced. Pork grease and chunky bits that definitely were less bacon and more cartilage. "You ever wonder how they made this slop?"

"I'd rather not think about it. It's like hot dogs ya know... The less you know about it, the better they are!" The janitor shrugged and went to sit on one of the chairs closer to the stove. Everyone was very much huddled close by, swaddled in shared blankets, rubbing their hands together to keep them warm, or drinking soup.

Norman nodded at the music director once he sat down to join the group. Not too long after Susie was sitting beside him, and he offered to share his blanket with her.

"So, what do we do now?" Wally asked as he looked around. The issue would be sorted in the morning but it was still only a quarter to eleven and no one was particularly keen on sleeping just yet.

"I'll tell ya what we could do!" Shawn called out from his spot, voice slightly muffled by his big red scarf. "I say we pass t'time by indulging in the ye old grand art that is story tellin'!"

"Story telling? What, like a sleepover?" Jack questioned. Sammy found it amusing that he'd swaddled himself in his blanket in a way that pressed his hair tight against his skull, to the point where it looked like a makeshift scarf and ear mitts. "Like when we were little kids?"

"Well we're all sleepin' here t'night aren't we? And ya don't need t'be wee little ankle biters t'go tellin' stories." Shawn huffed "Besides, what better way t'know yer co-workers than share some harrowin' tales? I sure got a few that'll intrigue you folks I'm sure."

"Is it about potatoes?" One of the art department workers asked, only to get a slap on the back of the head and an elbow to the ribs.

"Very funny, that muppet over there's a real comedian coddin like that..." The Irishman rolled his eyes. "Right, you folk ever hear 'bout the legend o'the banshee?"

Everyone gave him a peculiar look, which Shawn took as permission to carry on.

"The tale varies some dependin' on t'person who tells ya. But the way me ma told it to me was somethin' like this: The banshee is a sweet singin' virgin, pretty as a button, a real feek." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he recalled his mother's words. "Sometimes she has long black hair, other times it's a bright red like fire. Always pale... But don't be thinkin' she's just some little lady, oh no. The banshee is a spirit, one that heralds death in the family. Her ghastly cries precede the death o'loved ones and fill ya with a mighty chill o'dread... And I saw one when I was just a wee lad."

"Ya saw... A ghost?" Lacie wrinkled her nose. "And ya sure it wasn't some regular girl you just saw?"

"Couldn't o'been. She was right outside the window Lacie. And me room was on the second floor..." Shawn shook his head "And I knew it had to o'been a banshee. She looked just like me cousin, who died o'the shakes a few months prior. My pa always did say she might come back as the household haunt, she wasn't ready t'leave just yet."

"So, that's it? You saw some apparitions at your window and think it was some folklore horror?" Sammy rolled his eyes.

"Yep. An' then in the morning me grandpa was dead. Dreadful song she went and had t'sing. I was just 5 too! T'damn beour coulda gone bother me brother instead... He was t'one that used to scare us wee lads with these tales o'ghosts n' ghoulies..."

Well, that wasn't a very nice story. And it likely had a reasonable explanation behind it too. Just a small child frightened by tales and likely still coming to terms with losing a cousin.

"Oh, that's nothin'!" Wally grinned. "Ghost stories aren't anythin' compared to what I found in a ditch when I was 8!"

"Oh yeah? Then enlighten us, oh scare Meister!" Shawn barked back, glaring slightly. "What coulda been worse than a banshee?"

"How about a maneater?" The janitor offered.

Shawn fell quiet and others began to whisper among each other at the claim, before Norman began to hush everyone.

"Go on then... Yous can't just say that an' not tell us."

"Oh man, it was the dang scariest thing I'd seen as a kid!" Wally grinned. "Us tykes from Brooklyn? We didn't grow up with monster stories and such. Our mas and pas told us about kidnappers and murderers instead, cuzz those are like, real dangers you know?"

He took a sip from his cooling bowl of soup, before clearing his throat.

"But you know what kids are like. They like adventure and don't really listen too much cuzz, you only believe it when you see it!" He carried on. "Me? I was with a couple a pals exploring this old ditch that had some neat stuff people used to throw in there. Busted watches, trinkets, sometimes a lost wallet with a little bit of cash in it...Well that day there wasn't just goodies."

Sammy sipped his own soup and felt Susie's arm brush up against his as she got on the edge of her seat. She was excited to hear wherever Wally's story was going.

"Local news had like, been going on about this one loon that had run off from the big house or somethin'. Some big mug who was a pervert or whatever. Adult stuff we kids didn't care for." Wally looked around as he spoke. "Only he wasn't no pervert, just really messed in the head. A cannibal. A cannibal that liked eating little tots. You know, stories like Little Johnny went pokin' around where he shouldn't and now there was no Little Johnny no more? Yeah that nearly was us."

"You found the guy in the ditch?" Sammy guessed.

"Nope! Found my neighbor, Sally, partially eaten and all kinds o' messed up." Wally replied "I figured we were in trouble so we ran like our butts were on fire and screamed the whole way back. Coppers caught the fucker and his picture on the paper still gives me nightmares. If we'd found him instead, we woulda ended up like Sally!"

Everyone looked extremely disturbed at the thought of a couple of 8 year olds finding another child's partially eaten corpse.

"Shite... No wonder yer such a mog. Brooklyn's fucked up!" Shawn winced.

"Hey!" Wally pouted.

"Also your story was misleading. You didn't actually encounter the "maneater"." Sammy pointed out. "That's not how you should advertise a tale you twit."

"Would ya rather I have found the creep that did it?"

"No, next time just don't make it sound like an actual encounter when it's an anecdote about another outcome entirely."

"Don't go bein' an ass Lawrence." Norman called out. "I thought the story was good. Messed up, but good... Granted it don't top what I experienced when I was still in the cradle."

"Oh, this ought to be good." The blond smirked. "Word of mouth?"

"My Nanna never told no lie. Yous won't find a more honest lady." Norman smirked back.

At this point everyone had finished their soup and was practically laying or leaning against one another for warmth. It helped that the story telling atmosphere had all but made everyone forget about the cold.

Norman being so tall and obscuring the stove ever so slightly, cast strange shadows on the wall.

"Now, this happened a few months after I was born. My Nanna was lookin' after me while my mama and memaw was helpin' my pops and pepaw out in the cotton fields. My brother and sister wasn't that much older either, not yet ready to go pickin', so they was in their room playin' together." He leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face "Nanna was just preparin' lunch while I was layin' in this big ol' basket full o' pillows and blankets, just sleepin' away like babies do. She turned 'round to chop up some carrots when she had this weird feelin' all of a sudden."

Sammy put an arm around Susie as he listened. Norman was a pretty good story teller. Had this voice that just pulled you in. He could almost imagine a little chubby baby in a basket while an old lady prepared food in the kitchen.

"Nanna Polk always had a feel for when things were no good all of a sudden. She'd known when Poppop weren't doing well in the head, and she knew how to pop a shot into a big gator when it got too close to the house. She wasn't afraid o'nothin'." Norman carried on. "But she was afraid. She was afraid when the blade o'her knife caught the reflection o'this big brute pullin' my basket out the window."

Sammy winces and Susie tightened her grip on his arm. The others were quite aghast as well, at the thought of an innocent little babe getting snatched away by some stranger.

"Nanna didn't scream. She didn't wanna scare my siblings you see... Instead she tiptoed towards the backdoor, knife in hand, and kept outta sight o'the man that was tryin' to take me away." Norman hummed as he thought back on what Nanna had told him. "You know, they often tell ya 'bout southern hospitality. If yous is friendly and respectful, yous always got a friend. They don't tell yous about Louisiana ladies like my sweet Nanna tho... They is forged of iron and grief. Strong and protective o'their youngins... She knew what that man wanted from me, an' she wasn't bout to let it happen."

"What did she do?" Wally asked, bitting his knuckles as he put his legs up to his chest.

"Put the knife through his back. She pushed him so he wouldn't go an' fall on me, oh 'course, and that basket well about saved my life cuzz it was damn well padded and didn't so much as wake me when it hit the ground."

"Holy shit..."

"Now, that might sound a little extreme to yous, but I trust Nanna's judgement." Norman began once he noticed the horrified looks on his coworker's faces. "That man woulda taken me somewhere no one could'a gotten me from, an' she wasn't 'bout to lose anyone else to them creeps. Nanna was smart, and Nanna was hard workin'. She buried the bastard where he fell, an' planted a tree t'remember it too. I got to put a swing on it when it grew big enough to support the weight."

"Where were they going to take you?" Sammy finally asked, once he realized no one would do so. "The man?"

"Hm, well I don't know exactly. But she did say it was where my Poppop grew up, so I know it wasn't a good place." Norman frowned. "They did bad things to him, made him messed up in the head an' dangerous. Nanna saved me from endin' up the same way... Don't care if it wasn't the right way t'do it, them folks don't deserve no pity if they go stealin' babies from their cribs t'do god only knows what."

"Well... For what is worth, we're glad your nanna saved you Norman. You're a gem." Susie smiled which got the much larger man to chuckle.

"How's that for a story then? Anyone steppin' up to top it off?"

No one seemed to have anything that quite matched the energy of this... What should he call it? Cultist kidnapping story? It certainly sounded that the man was some underground cultist if he was taking babies to indoctrinate, or whatever...

The blond watched, saw no one step up to the challenge, and then remembered.

"Well, it may not be as bad as getting snatched away. But I do recall a rather peculiar set of events from before I moved to New York with my father." He began, the band members snorting and whispering among themselves that it was probably something stupid. He glared their way before looking at Norman who gestured for him to go on.

"Floor's all yours Sammy."

"Right." He thought back, way back when he was 10. Just a year prior to his mother's death. It was all a little foggy but the more he concentrated on what his father had told him about that night, the less his explanation made sense once correlated with his own memories. "I didn't exactly grow up in the city. Not until I was 11 that is... I actually lived in a cattle ranch for a while."

"That explains why you call us sheep." Johnny laughed.

"No, I call you sheep because your job is to follow me, you damn goat." Sammy snarled back at the interrupting organist.

"Ouch." Jack winced.

"Either way, as a child living with a father who raised cattle for a living, one can expect that I was often tasked to help with a few of the animals. Mainly cleaning the pens and, if I was particularly lucky, shearing the sheep." The sheep, he confesses, had been his favourite. They were dumb and cute. "My father usually dealt with the larger animals. When this event occured, he'd just bought a big healthy heifer. His ornery old bull had covered our best breeding cow but she'd not been having calves."

"Was she called Bessie?" Wally grinned.

"The name of the cow isn't of importance!" Sammy rolled his eyes. "It was Felicity by the way."

"My mistake."

"Either way, my father was a breeder, so his breeding female not producing offsprings was a big deal. I was a kid so I wasn't particularly interested if Felicity had issues, I just liked watching her when she had little calves. They were the cutest thing right after the baby lambs." Sammy carried on "The new heifer, Clarabelle, arrived that day and immediately the bull was put to working. My father thought That'd be the end of his problems... An easy fix. Except it wasn't..."

"She sterile?" Norman asked.

"Oh I wish that had been it. I was 10, had seen animals in plenty of states from sickness or wild animal attacks. But never had I seen a cow turned inside out, other than in a damn butcher's..." Sammy shuddered. He could still remember it... Going outside to get the eggs like his father had asked, and just finding this massive dead heifer with no skin on her body. His mother had said he'd screamed like the devil himself had been before him.

"Oh god..." Susie gagged slightly. "That couldn't have been nice..."

"It wasn't. I was freaked out and my father was furious. Clarabelle had been an expensive purchase. And she wasn't the only casualty." Sammy shook his head. "The pen was wrecked, the bull was in better state but no less dead, and poor Felicity must have run into whatever butchered them both because she had a massive wound on her hind. Every animal was spooked out of their minds and even our sheepdog wouldn't come out of the house. Peed himself when we tried coaxing him."

"Did ya find what did it?" Shawn asked.

"No, we couldn't find anything that explained it." Sammy carried on. "No tracks, no trails of blood, nothing. The pen was just ruined, like it had been splintered apart, and Clarabelle looked to have just... I don't know how to explain it. Pop? Like a balloon?"

"I figure your father wasn't too keen on going' about business after that?"

"He wanted compensation, but you can't exactly put the blame on anything if you can't even find a cause." The music director sighed "We eventually just decided to call it quits on figuring out what the hell happened and went on with our lives. But then things just got... Weird."

Strange lights at night, bizarre noises, and horrific night terrors. Sammy's father had lost his patience when he'd found their dog's remains and called the authorities.

"We were all on edge, unsure what was going on at the ranch, and losing animals every night. My father called the cops, saying someone must be playing some seriously messed up joke to terrorize us. He'd made a lot of enemies with his attitude over the years, so I wouldn't have been surprised..." He trailed of, beginning to feel goosebumps as he recalled the final night of these strange occurances. "And then one night I saw something strange out of my window. Stranger than anything else."

Everyone was eager for the conclusion, he could tell. Taking a deep breath, he recounted what he'd been a witness to.

"I wasn't sleeping well, no one was, but I just couldn't settle in bed that night. It felt too warm in my room so I got up to open a window." His 10 year old self had always struggled with the latch on his window, but not that night. That night it opened without a fuss. "I saw... A figure. Out in the fields. Cast in weird green light that I couldn't put a source to. They were tall, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I assumed man because there wasn't a hair on its head... I just stared, and it looked to be staring back. Next thing I know, I'm outside in my pajamas, staring up at this pitch black figure... Taller, imposing, faceless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth... And yet it felt like it was glaring hatefully at me. Frustrated, angry... It pointed at the woods and I don't... I don't know what it wanted and I was just a scared kid."

He gulped heavily as he recalled how oppressive everything had felt.

"Again I blacked out, but this time awoke inside to my mother fanning me. My dad was yelling at the cops and it was morning." Sammy frowns "Yelling at them to get that damn thing off his property, and to fuck right off since they were so useless at their damn job."

A soft amen from a member of the writer's department. Followed by a chuckle from another one.

"My throat was raw, and when I tried to ask what happened, my mom told me they'd found me outside at the edge of the woods, screaming until my voice went. Screaming about wanting out of the woods. Screaming about wanting to go home... Screaming that nothing here was good to eat and that I was going to die... I don't recall doing it, and my father said I'd probably had a nightmare of some kind. A fever dream even, since mom had been trying to cool me down for a good reason." He bit his lip "It's odd, I'd just fallen ill overnight and everything was fuzzy... I asked why the cops were here, and my father said when he'd gone to get me he'd spotted a weather balloon of some kind in the woods. The cops were there to take it away."

Everyone stared, confused and trying to figure out how these events connected. He gave them a shrug.

"I have no idea what was going on, so don't ask. I was 10, animals were dying weirdly, and I got so sick all of a sudden that I started sleep walking and hallucinating demonic figures. No one ever said anything about the weather balloon in the local paper either, so I don't even know what to think of that." He leaned against Susie "It was weird, but it stopped. Still that thing kept appearing in my nightmares for a while... It faded with time but it bothered me while it was still fresh in my mind."

"Sounds like aliens." Wally pips up.

"No such thing." Bertrum laughed at the suggestion. "Just a bunch of vandalism, fallen governament property, animal attacks, and a child's overactive imagination."

"No, I'm serious! Stuff like that happens in farms all the time! Stuff no one can explain..."

"Wally, there's tons o' things none can explain in this world already." Norman pointed out. "I'm not sure what sorta thing Sammy might o' stumbled upon as a kid... But little green men don't sound plausible."

"Oh come on, ain't it obvious? Cows gettin' killed, the strange damages? The fallen thing in the woods? The spooky figure? The one person who no one would believe being chosen to see the alien? Then the cops just swoopin' in and covering it up? Happened just the same to my uncle Paul!"

"What I saw wasn't little or green. Don't make it another one of your outlandish tall tales." Sammy grinned, enjoying how much Wally was puffing up.

"Bite your tongue! It ain't a tall tale!"

"Sure it's not."

"Boys don't fight... Because I've got one heck of a story that'll make Norman's and Sammy's feel like child's play!" Susie cut in, with a devilish grin of her own.

And so the night carried on, with more stories to be shared. All the while Sammy laughed and listened, content with the situation.

Although... He did still wonder what he'd seen out in the field. Surely it couldn't have been extraterrestrial.

Hm... Yes, surely not. Just a bad dream and some sick prank. Had to have been.