#the sun is literally rising and I need to sleep before any more light gets in this room

[flonkertn]

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : rafe cameron x reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : pure fluff, proofread like once so apologies for any mistakes!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k

𝐚/𝐧 : this is my first time publishing any writing so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! these hcs are mostly fanon!rafe but i tried to incorporate some of his canon traits. for the most part, i just wrote about scenarios/pieces that came to mind and sprinkled in some of my own fantasies (also that butterfly took so damn long i nearly gave up)

𖡼 he hates the fact that you work, it’s not that he values tradition, but he longs so desperately to provide for you, to take you away from the stress of your job and have you relax at home all day. he wishes he could come home after a long day and find you curled up on the sofa, asleep or covered in a blanket watching a show or cooking a meal for you both and feeding him a spoonful to make sure it tastes just right. he begs you to quit work and let him care for you and treat you all day every day by simply letting you do nothing.

𖡼 when you do have a bad day at work, he’s devastated (but also very smug). he runs you a bath and slowly takes off your clothes, wiping your tears as he does so if it’s been an especially unpleasant day. he sits you in the tub and tells you to wait, bringing in a bottle of wine or champagne (or just straight vodka who knows) and lighting a candle before quickly stripping off and sinking into water. he pulls your legs up so that they rest on his body and rubs your feet whilst you tell him about your day, having you let all your emotions out here and now, nodding along and chipping in with a “i know, baby” or a “i’m so sorry, love”

𖡼 he loves surfing and any other water sports, he just needs to be on the sand and by the ocean, but he knows that you sometimes aren’t in the mood for something so thrilling or dangerous. so there’s days where he takes you down to the beach, playing with your hair as you read a book leant against a palm tree and constantly asking if you’re thirsty or hungry, running off to get you anything you mention before you can even finish the word. as the sun sets he gets a paddle board, sitting on the edge and rowing through the soft waves as you lie down in front of him, head plush on his lap as the sun hits your back, perfectly highlighting the drops of water that have found their way onto your skin.

𖡼 he hums, like all the time. it doesn’t matter what he’s doing, wether he’s pottering about or cooking or literally just walking down the corridor, he’s humming a tune. it’s so soft and quiet that you can’t hear it unless you really listen, but he makes sure to be a little louder when you’re lying your head on his chest at night, his hands gently massaging your hips as your body rises and falls in unison with his heavy breath, his heartbeat echoing in your ears as you fall asleep.

𖡼 he loves to wake up the same time as you, he wants to lie with you for ages whilst you both get your bearings and keep asking you for five more minutes whenever you try to get up. if he wakes up before you and has nowhere to be, he’ll just go back to sleep, or at least pretend that he has, just so you can take your time and eventually wake him up with kisses.

𖡼 he’s always late because he’s too busy watching you get ready. sometimes he’ll stay lying in bed if you’re out before him, lazily watching you as he props himself up on his elbow, a smile pulling on his lips. the way you hum to yourself and hesitate before each step of your routine trying to remember whats next is so satisfying to him. he does the same on a night, rushing to get ready just so he can sit and watch you, often placing himself behind you and planting kisses on your cheek and temple and neck, all the while staring at you through the mirror, waiting for your cute little smirk when the two of you make eye contact. each time you ask him what he’s doing, his answer is the same.

“jus’ tryna memorise it. what if you want me to do it for you when you’re too tired?”

𖡼 he likes to be impossibly close when you sleep with one another. even when you can hear the soft snores escaping from his lips, his arms are wrapped around you or fingers tangled in your hair or body beneath yours. even if he just gets to have a hand on you, a fingertip, it’s all he needs to fall asleep, and he always makes sure to help you. his hands find your waist as he rubs against your sides, grazing your skin up and down or smoothing his touch in soft, slow circles. his breath falling warm on the back of your neck or against your ear and calming you into a deep sleep.

𖡼 his camera roll is FULL of you. like he genuinely runs out of storage sometimes because he can’t stop taking pictures and videos of you. he’ll go through it with you as well. you’ll be lying in bed reading or just waking up and he’ll mumble something with a smile on his face.

“look at this one, babe”

he rests his phone in front of you, a candid picture from the night before filling your eyes as a wide grin is plastered on his face behind the screen.

“aren’t you beautiful? my perfect girl.” he murmurs as he pulls his phone back to him, staring at the photo for a minute more and smiling to himself, before swiping onto the next item and repeating the process.

𖡼 most of his camera roll, however, is pictures of you sleeping. not in a creepy way, he does sometimes take a picture of you in bed when you just look too perfect to forget, saving it just for his eyes, but he can’t help it. a large amount of these pictures are the times when he does have to get out of bed before yourself, he has a stupid meeting or a stupid mistake to fix that pulls him away from you. he’ll creep out of bed and quietly get ready, scrunching his nose and squinting his eyes every time an action is louder than he wants it to be. just as he comes in to kiss you goodbye, he has to stop and look at you. you’re so beautiful. your hair sprawled out against the pillow and tangled in your mouth. the faintest snores falling from your nose and the duvet he’d only just neatened up is already disheveled from your movement. he can’t help but snap a quick picture of you and press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for just a little too long.

𖡼 he keeps a picture (or twelve) of you in his wallet. he keeps them everywhere. he just needs to look at you all the time. a keyring with your face attached to his keys. his wallpaper(s) on his phone and work computer are all you. his desk is covered in framed pictures of you so he can sit staring at your face and your smile, head resting in his hands whilst he avoids work and thinks of how he can treat you that night, desperate to spoil you.

𖡼 Rafe will never argue with you, he never even raises his voice at you if it isn’t laced with excitement. despite his short-temper, and his impatience and (at times) his arrogance, he refuses to show you that side of him, or at least direct it to you. if he does disagree with you or he feels something coming on, he’ll simply excuse himself, muttering “jus’ one minute” and squeezing your hand gently before walking into a separate room. he sits there, trying to slow his breathing and pressing his forehead into his palms to try and gain some perspective and, if nothing else, calm himself down. the first few times he did so you just stood there confused, eventually following him and peeking round the corner of the door, to which he’d raise his head and rush over to you, practically chanting the word “sorry” and kissing your hands as he pushes you out. you soon realised he needed the time and space to gather himself, and left him alone until he was ready to carry on the conversation, greeting him with a wide grin each time he came back to you.

𖡼 his hand(s) are on you at. all. times. it started as an act of protection, to ensure nobody tries it on with you in public but he’s become so accustomed to it that it’s now a constant. he’ll walk around with a palm spread across your lower back, arm swung around your shoulder, fingers intertwining with yours, hand squeezing your side, and it only gets more intimate at home. tracing patterns on your back, grazings his fingers against your thighs, peppering kisses on your stomach and cheeks and jaw and nose. he acts as though he’d die if he didn’t feel you against him for more than five seconds.

𖡼 he can read you like a book, literally nothing gets past him. you could walk into a room, a smile plastered on your face, not a hint of sadness around you in a meter radius, and Rafe would still be asking what’s wrong. before you even realise you’re upset he’ll be comforting you and insisting you tell him what’s got you “so worked up.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @sadfury

[clus444]

John Price vs H.O.A? More like H.O.E

The first part is the same as the snippet, and there will be an indication (RP) that the repeat part is done, but I recommend reading all of it. fair warning this is long to me.

Warning: Mature content, Despcritive words,

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John Price is a lot of things.

He is a captain of the 141. He's the man that people rely on to get home. Especially three men in particular. He has to be four steps ahead while you're at one. Not only are lives in his hands, blood, that cakes on his skin for however long it takes for them to evacuate. Every move he makes is calculated, not only for himself but for his team.

He is a friend when his boy's pride is too high to go to anyone else for help. They need someone to talk to but how can they when the aftermath of a mission is too much. He's the tough love, words of encouragement, or hell even drinks, whatever it takes to help them get up the next day. In some cases fight.

He is a husband to Y/n Price. He is her protector even when he's away. Call it obsessive but he'll be damned before his woman is left astray. But to focus more so on when he's home...Since the beginning of their relationship, he finds it easier to sleep with her around.

Whether he wraps her up in his arms to pass his warmth to her, as he knows his wife gets cold, or when she wraps him up when the world is too loud. Those were the days when the ringing was non-stop and he couldn't bear to get up. Though those were rare she still forced him to cut back on smoking.

He always thanks her when his body's personal alarm clock wakes him up before her. Like clockwork, John gets up at the ass crack of dawn. He takes that time to get important business matters out the way. But when the sun rises a light blue starts taking over as a sign for the rest of the world to wake up.

He slides the covers off you and pauses his movements as you shiver from the cold. He notices your nipples tense as a reaction as well. He licks his lips like a hungry beast looking at his prey. He takes the straps of your silk nightgown and slides them down to reveal your breasts. He leans down and lightly pecks both nipples. Soft whimpers come out of her mouth.

John pushes his tongue out and he circles his tongue around the pebble. He takes his left hand and circles his pointer finger around her other pebble before, lightly squeezing. He pushes himself away and makes his way down to her wet cavern. He slides the dress completely off and my god was it slow. His patience is on a thin line with it.

He opens her legs and takes a whiff. It sends tingles from his head down to his dick. He rolls his tongue out to let spit that piled up roll off his tongue and dribble down to her folds. Not a moment later he goes in for the kill. He laps at your clit like no tomorrow and you jolt awake," F-Fuck!"

Let's come back to the main point of this.

John Price is a lot of things, but someone's bitch?

I think the fuck not.

(RP)

Imagine this... John is pulling up in his drive-through after a tiring day of training recruits. It seems this batch of 'em are as hard-headed as they come. Between sticking their nose and sometimes dick in things they shouldn't (Quite literally), and trying to find loopholes in any and everything.

He sighs as he turns off the car and leans back in his seat. He closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. Soft lines on his face show the hard work and dedication he's put forth to his job. At the very least his job has granted him a week off.

He's gonna use that time to bury himself into forgotten hobbies and maybe his sweet juicy wife if she's feeling up to it. He grunts and hauls himself out of his truck. John landed on his feet with a soft thud. As he's walking up his pavement to his door he sees a white paper taped to it. He takes a second to survey his surroundings, trying to find anything suspicious. He runs through different scenarios in his head.

He sure as shit pays his bills on time so his pretty wife can have a roof over her head. All loose ends were tied and cut off from his previous mission but god help anyone that tries to reattach. He walks closer to his door, inspecting it cautiously. Call him paranoid but when you make as many enemies as him, he's sure they wouldn't go above lacing the paper.

Red lettering that read ' H.O.A' catches his attention. He grasps the paper, slightly crumbling it as he opens it.

H.O.A of Shefield.

8/6/24 Type of complaint: Written Warning/ fined

We regret to inform you that we will be charging you for 3 violations that you or someone in your household have been found guilty of.

$100- Not using the H.O.A garbage disposal that we kindly provide.

$75- Excessive amount of cars in the driveway/Lots of guest.

$50- Grass is the embodiment of needs help.

Total: $225

Any questions or concerns please make a report and leave it at the committee office.

Now john wasn't a sensitive man. He didn't cry when watching the boy in the striped pajamas, hell! He doesn't even get mad when the protagonist does something stupid in a horror movie. But like stated before John is a protective man especially when it comes to his wife.

How was this person who wrote this supposed to know that, and that his wife cut the grass for him as a way to give him a break. When he found out, he nearly had a heart attack and spanked that attitude right out of her (All in good fun). It feels like his whole body has taken offense to this paper.

But honestly, 225 dollars is nothing to John. It was more of the fact that this H.O.A. person had the nerve to want to make his family their new victims. Johns heard talk of the power-tripping H.O.As that were newly elected in office. His wife even had a run-in with them and he had almost given them a piece of his mind then and there. But his oh-so-lovely wife always wanted to be the peacemaker. He knew that this bud should have been cut the first time.

But you know what they say... Happy wife, Happy life.

John grumbles as he heads inside and looks for his wifey. His footsteps are heavier than before as he finally spots her. "John? What wrong-," He walks closer to her and picks her up to take her to the bedroom. When she lands she uses her elbows to hold herself up. She sees the wild look that takes over his features. She bites her lip.

He grabs the end of his shirt and yanks it off before quickly disposing of his pants, leaving him in his boxers. "That oll of this off," He gives her a hard look as he yanks her down by her legs. She takes care of her clothes as fast as she can but I guess she was too slow because in the end, he ends up tearing her panties off.

He palms himself as he looks over her bare body. Her soft, plushy thighs stay raised and open. " John-" he slaps the fat of her cheek and she shrieks.

"Did I say speak," He questions leaning down and she quickly shakes her head no. He raises a brow as if daring her to defy. He'd be lying if he said he hoped so but knew his good girl wouldn't. John runs his pointer finger through her folds. Feeling her slick on his finger as he plays with her a little, she lets out a moan. " I see you did as I asked," He starts fingering her with two fingers," Stretched yourself out for me, huh?" Her muscles tense as she responds, "Y-yes Captain."

He stops and brings his fingers to his mouth and cleans them. Her mouth parts as she watches him, she puts her hand over her breasts and squeezes. Her nipples tingle and she pinches them to keep the feeling going. He slides his boxers down and pumps his cock. Spreading the precum to slicken him up, she feels her hole clench as she watches him.

Her walls moisten up more to prepare for the beating she knows her pussy is about to take. She can already feel the delicious and painful stretch which causes her to get more excited. He takes his tip and moves it against her clit a few times before pushing in. She feels the air gets punched out of her as John tries to pushes his way through. He grunts at the feel of her gripping him like a vice. " Let... Me... In"His words match his long and deep strokes as he tries to fit more.

It sometimes amazes her that even with all the natural lube they both produce she still has a hard time taking it sometimes. With no patience to wait, John circles her clit with his thumb as he pounds at her pussy.

*pat pat pat pat*

The bed rocks from the strength of John's thrust. Y/n cries out as her back arches, her toes tightly curl and her nails dig into his back. "Captain," she moans as it feels like John's harsh thrust is digging for gold. He grunts and groans as he starts moving to hit the spongy spot that makes her see stars. "oo ooo oooo," her breath comes out in pants as she throws her head back.

"W- why are youuu... f-fucking me l-like thissss," y/n tries to get out as coherently as she can. John grins as he fills her tighten around him. A couple moans slip past here and there as his balls begin to tighten.

He puts her into a deeper mating press. Her hands are around the backs of her knees and her ankles land where her ears are. Their moans and grunts become tangled as one as he fucks her. " They have the audacity," He stops to thrust into her deeper," to make fun of my wife," He says it like he cant believe it even as the words come out.

He pulls out and quickly manhandles her onto her stomach. He pins her hips to the bed and grabs his cock to slide it back into her. Her moans sound like music to his ears. He lifts a leg onto the bed to fuck at a better angle. " Whoooo," she whines out as her hole clenches again. The pressure quickly built up in her lower abdomen.

" The fucking H.O.As! I'll show them the embodiment of needs help," He grunts as he takes them closer to the edge. His head leans back as he gets lost in her pussy.

" Fuck! Captain, Im comingggg, please, please," She begins begging. He speeds up and her hand goes to her clit to draw herself closer.

*pat pat pat pat pat*

Y/n cums first and the hand that was gripping John's back draws his blood. He lets out a couple more grunts before releasing and pushing all the way forward to plug his wife. They breathe heavily in unison and Y/n can swear that her body is floating. She starts fighting to close her eyes as a wave of fatigue washes over her. She holds tight onto John as he moves to start his aftercare," Stay please."

He nods and kisses her before laying on her chest and plotting against the H.O.As. He doesn't care how crazy it is. They think they can run people with their fines and threats that scare others. But he's seen true terror. Things that regular people would try to get him sent to the loony bin for. He's been up close and personal with the things children would call monsters and adults would call murderers.

To others, it may be fines and words on paper about his grass, the garbage disposal, and guess parking. But to him it's so much more. His wife rightfully chose another garbage company because they care about the environment and won't just dump it anywhere. His wife needs her friends because it can get quite lonely and who are they to isolate her! His wife, although warned to not do it again, tried her best to take care of his chores on the week that he failed to do so. Plus he'll be damned if he employed another man to take his job.

So yes, maybe it wasn't a big deal to others but John always hated those who abused their power. He had no problem telling people to fuck off and mind theirs.

So if I had to add to the list of things john is and ask his wife to weigh in.

It would be that John fucking price is crazy.

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How good did I just cook right now?

anywayssss hope you enjoy!!! I honestly couldn;t stop thinking about writing this i had so much fun.

Requests are now open!

Snippet

Original thought

Masterlist

[a-spes]

This is how I imagine what would happen if R decides to propose to Carol — and for once it is really just tooth rooting fluff, I promise there is no hidden angst, just two women deeply in love 🙃

You have been walking back and forth for the past few hours, waiting for the woman to return from her mission. Yet, this time, there was so much in your mind that the motion wasn't enough to soothe your worries.

She doesn't know you are here, and she probably does not expect you to be in her living room because that is the last place you are supposed to be. Damn, you should be on earth, not in a spacecraft landed on a planet which you don't even know the name.

How are you supposed to explain that to her? You definitely can't admit that you have used your skills to track her localisation, and then begged Tony to help you find a way here. You have spent the last few hours thinking about what you are going to tell her, but no words felt right, and you start to worry that she might be angry when she sees you — which would make sense because you literally broke into her ship.

You glance at the door, expecting the woman to barge in at any moment, but it doesn't move. The spacecraft is silent, if not for the sound of your steps and the one of the clock. Everything is still, and the wait starts to get on your nerves —; it is almost midnight, and you have already been here for the past five hours. The truth being that you have no idea when she will be back.

—

By the time she gets back to her ship, it is almost the morning. She can see the sun rising for afar, and she sighs because she doesn't want to think about the fact that another day is already about to start when hers isn't done. She is exhausted, and all she wants to think about is the hot shower she is going to take before throwing herself under the covers.

Yet, the universe seems to have other plans for her — she knew, from the second she entered the ship, that something was wrong. She was about to turn the lights on when she changed her mind, remembering that thing that someone told her about keeping the lights off when there is an intruder in the house. She knows the space, not them.

She walks carefully to another room when she notices that no one is in the living room. It is when she steps into her bedroom that she sees it, a figure in the dark that doesn't seem to move.

Suddenly, she can breathe again. The woman doesn't need to turn the light on to know who was sleeping in her bed, she knew it was you, and the sight was adorable. A part of her felt bad, she knows that you have probably waited for her for hours.

She walks closer to you, careful to not step on the candles that stopped burning a few hours ago. One of her hands finds a place on your cheek, her thumb caressing your skin slowly. “Hi, baby,” she whispers. A smile spreads on her lips when she notices the confusion on your face — you were supposed to surprise your girlfriend, not the other way around.

"Carol? W- what time is it?" you ask, your voice being raspy because you weren't completely awake yet. Something that you realize only a second later. “Wait, did I-"

“Fell asleep? I fear that you did, love..,” she chuckles, but her laugh is soon replaced by a frown, “but what are you doing here?” she asks, and you can hear the worries in her voice. It is true that you wouldn't have come all the way here if you hadn't a good reason, and the woman could only imagine the worse scenarios.

“I was missing you,” you whisper back, and the way you almost whined those words makes the woman's heart clench. It is only when you pronounce those words that you both realize how true they are. It makes you want to cry.

“And..?” she asks, knowing that there is more to your presence here. It is not your kind to do something like that. She has other questions in mind, as how the fuck did you do to enter her ship without triggering the alarm? Or, how the fuck did you find her localisation? But you come first, and she can feel that you are keeping something from her. “You know that you can tell everything, love?” she says, trying to coax you into sharing with her what was on your mind.

"I wanted to ask you something..," you admit, but suddenly this whole thing sounded stupid, and you couldn't look at her anymore.

"And it couldn't wait?" she chuckles, but as you aren't looking at her, you can't see the smile on her face. She has never been so much in love with someone, and anyone could see it on her face right now.

"Not really," you reply. You take a deep breath, trying to find the courage to pronounce the words you have thought of the past few hours. "Wait,-" you say, realizing that you don't know where the black box is. You find it a few seconds later, it has fallen on the ground while you were asleep.

"Carol Danvers," you start in a serious tone. You take one last deep breath, but as you are about to speak, the woman cuts you.

"Wait a second," she says, holding a hand to stop you from saying it. She knows the words you were about to say, because she has been dying to tell them to you for weeks.

Still, you can feel your heart dropping — does that mean she doesn't want to get married? You look at the woman as she disappears into the living room, and you can feel tears in your eyes. What feels like an eternity goes by before she comes back.

You, on the other hand, haven't moved an inch. You are still kneeling on the floor, holding the box, as if you were hoping for things to go differently. You are so lost in your thoughts that you realize that she is back only when she kneels in front of you, holding a box that is similar to yours.

"We say it ar the same time, okay?" she says. and you nod. Yet, you are a bit lost, and unsure of what is happening. "Would you marry me?" you both say at the same time, your voice joining the woman's.

[moodymisty]

Hi! May I request something comforting with Strife and a female reader? Work is exhausthing (a new hr system was implemented, it's not going well😑 - the project team could not delay the go live, so we now have less features and a nonexistent or randomly working interface). I'm done with everything... Hope your days are going much better!!

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: I understand the feeling, anon. Here's some cuddly Strife, I hope that makes you feel a bit better.

Relationships: Strife/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Just some early morning cuddles, I thought that would be the most comforting thing to enjoy a nice sleep after a shitty day :3

Word Count: 586

To wake up in one piece after confronting the literal Apocalypse is...

Something.

You don't know if you'll ever get used to it. People are just walking around and trying to go about pretending as if it never happened, to start back up where they left off, but humanity still has a permanent mental- and in many ways physical- scar that won't ever go away. Not many can say they don't flinch at shadows or loud sounds, or when the sky gets grey about to rain.

To go from that unknown terror to trying to sleep at night and go to work the next day for many has been, an adjustment. Especially with Humanity's new neighbors. At least the new friends were some of the better thing to come out of the End of Days.

The Makers have been more than incredibly helpful in rebuilding, but even then progress has been s-

"Why's it so Creator damned bright all the sudden?"

You were woken up by Strife's body shifting as he roused from sleep, his face buried in the nook of your neck. His right arm lays over your stomach, while the other is tucked somewhere under the pillows. You'd say his legs are tangled with yours, though given the size difference it's more like his are weighing yours down underneath the blankets.

He loves to hold you almost like some sort of stuffed animal. It's endearing, until you need to move anywhere.

"That's because the sun is rising, Strife."

The Nephilim lets out a groan as his face presses deeper into your neck, attempting to block out the morning sun. It's the crack of dawn, and you have no business being up this early. Nor do you want to be, as you close your eyes and attempt sink into the mattress and fall back asleep.

It seem Strife doesn't have any plans to let you do that however, as you feel him wiggle yet again. His warm breath fans over your skin as he attempts to fall back asleep same as you. His weight that pushes the limit of the bed frame's max limit makes it shift enough to jostle you, and wrench a groan from you.

To think he'd go from being so hesitant to get close his eyes around you to this. It's been interesting, seeing him finally let his guard down.

He loves the 'cool guy' facade, the rootin' tootin' gunslingin' Nephilim, but in reality his walls are nearly has high as Death's. He's just better at not showing them to anyone.

But now he has the security, that you aren't going anywhere and that nothing bad is going to happen. That he finally has you with him. And because of it, the Nephilim conks out like a light the moment he decides to sleep next to you.

Not this time however; As he moves his leg that dangles part way off the bed around and wakes up once again from the in-between space between awake and asleep. You weakly smack his arm.

"Strife, quit moving."

He finally raises his head and looks at you, glaring with his messy, sleepy face. You can't help but compare him to a beloved pet that you wake up from the middle of a deep sleep, frazzled and face scrunched. You can just barely make out a pile of armor and weaponry in the corner of the room behind him, where he'd dumped it the night before.

"Then fix the light issue, Princess." You look up at him, barely able to make out his shapes through the blur of sleep. You fill your cheeks with air to blow a raspberry at him, but he just uses his hand to force the air out with a pinch of your cheeks. It frustrates you, which is always his goal.

"I can't make the sun just go a-"

Suddenly Strife grabs a handful of the blanket and pulls it overtop of both of your heads, covering you completely. And now back in near total darkness apart from the tiniest bit of light bleeding from the top most part of the blanket, Strife resumes his trapping of your body in his limbs, his nose pressing against your cheek. You feel his lips against your skin as he talks.

"There, solved."

It's so warm underneath the blanket, despite the frigid cold weather outside.

But it's not as if you have anywhere you need to go anytime soon. And if you do, it clearly wasn't important enough for you to remember. After terrible your week has been as of yet, you'll gladly forget about all of that for awhile.

Strife clearly smiles against your skin as you sigh and grasp the part of his arm you can reach, wiggling to get comfortable and falling back asleep as the sun continues to rise.

[scribbling-dragon]

don't turn out the lights (kiss yourself goodnight)

summary:

“Hi,” Martyn continues to grin, even as it turns awkward and even guiltier. “I'm coming over. Can I come over?” Martyn pauses on the bridge then, as though just realising his presence might be unwanted after ditching him all morning. “I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way.

(ao3 link)

(7,119 words)

[hi! talking in bold so this catches your eyes ooOOooo anyway! this is the FINAL PART of this series! it's done! this is the end! meaning, everyone dies in this fic. there's your warning! there's gonna be death, injury, blood, etc. all the fun stuff! so just keep that in mind when you read it. also! it'd be really nice if you could reblog this because it took me a long time and i put a buncha effort into it! comments in the tags are even cuter- they let me know you liked it! i write for fun but i post because i want other people to also enjoy what i make, letting me know that you did quite literally makes my day.

anyway! hope u enjoy! <33]

The Isles is almost eerily quiet.

It is expected. The losses they had experienced only a day prior are enough to stun even the loudest of people into silence. It seems their world is only mirroring their mourning, not even birds singing to greet the dawn. Instead, it leaves everyone to prepare for their day, silence permeating the air around them. Even the sun appears muted, watery, as it tiredly heaves itself over the edge of the water, already beginning to chase away the deep purples of night.

He doubts any of them will be around to see another miserable sunrise such as this one.

Scott runs a cloth over the dull edge of his sword, wiping the dried blood away as best as he can manage with only a scrap of damp fabric. It’s already stained red, beyond any kind of repair. The dried blood remains stubborn, clinging to his blade as the last few echoes of others’ lives.

It flakes away as he scrapes against it with a single, sharp nail. The dried blood of friend and foe alike clumps together as it gathers beneath his nail, forcing him to stop his task and pick it out once he can no longer stand the feeling of it. He flicks it to the ground beneath him, hoping the flecks of red will become lost amongst the yellowing grass he sits upon. He still finds his eyes picking it out, like berries nestled amongst the dry stalks of grass that are determined to catch his eyes whenever he glances over.

He pauses at the sound of creaking floorboards above him, a few grains of sand pattering down onto his head. He cocks his head to the side and listens a little more intently as more creaking follows. Martyn had still been sleeping when he got up, curled comfortably in their shared bed. Scott had been tempted to stay and enjoy the peace a little longer, but his own mind was restless.

He hadn’t wanted to disturb the last few peaceful moments Martyn would probably get before this is all over, rising and attending to small tasks that didn’t really need to be done; tasks that were there to busy the hands rather than be productive. He doesn’t have that sort of time to waste, still target number one, certainly, his clock ticking down from higher numbers than everyone else, but his time is as limited as the rest of them.

His sword had been cleaned and sharpened. The blade, previously coated in dried blood so thick you could barely see its shimmer now gleams in the rapidly strengthening sunlight.

The purple hue of the skyline has been almost completely wiped away, leaving a pink sky in its wake. The light of it dyes the ocean a deep red, churning against the edges of their island as though it can hardly wait to devour it all once they're gone.

He continues to listen as footsteps echo overhead, uninterested in continuing to prepare for murdering his friends, waiting for Martyn to poke his head through the doorway and begin chattering away. He’s always more talkative in the morning, as though he has to make up for not speaking all night.

He looks over at the sound of a quiet splash, sitting up and sword forgotten as he stands a moment later. He pokes his head out of their storage room, watching as Martyn swims away from their island and towards the mainland. He dips beneath the waves a few times, swimming quickly.

Scott lingers in the doorway, watching as Martyn emerges onto the sandy shoreline, not even bothering to rid himself of the water he’d collected on his trip over as he usually would. Instead, he looks around, searching for…something. Scott isn’t certain what it is that he’s searching for – they hadn’t even had a conversation yet that morning to go over what should be done, who to avoid, who to target – and apparently not find it as he trudges into the treeline, quickly disappearing into the murky darkness that seems to cling to any dark oak forest, still soaking wet from his short swim.

Scott withdraws into their storage room, confused and more than a little hurt. His mind races a mile a minute, barely giving him a moment to process anything before he’s thinking of another potential explanation. Did they have a conversation last night that indicated Martyn was going to do something like this? Did Martyn assume he had already left and gone searching for him?

Only, Martyn had swum over there like a man possessed, like he would die if he didn’t reach the shoreline as quickly as he did. And yet – and yet – the moment he reached his destination he had looked around, as though uncertain of where to go.

Scott likes to think that he can read Martyn quite well, after the multiple times they’ve gone through these games together, and also the time they’ve spent together on this very island. He likes to think he can read Martyn well. And the way Martyn had looked around, on that shoreline, had not been with the intent of finding something lost, it had been done with the confusion of someone that had walked into a room and forgotten what they were going to do.

But, there’s no point in catching up with him yet. No reason to dive after him and catch up; see if he can shake any answers loose from the man. Not when he still has arrows to make and a bow to restring.

They can talk later. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

=== === ===

“Now, I'm not a professional,” he tells Cleo, hopping down a few more blocks and squeezing into the gap he’d left for himself. There’s no redstone involved in this, only the tiny guide in the back of his head that’s jumping between steps as he attempts to remember how to do this, struggling to reconcile the new information he had with the idea that he’d already gotten it right.

He’d done it wrong last time, his hands still stinging from the hot blast that had gotten him before he managed to shove his shield in front of himself, letting that take the brunt of the explosion rather than absorbing it with his face.

“Never said you were,” he feels a shadow fall over him as Cleo leans down to peer at what he’s doing. “Reckon you're gonna blow the both of us up again?”

“I wouldn’t stand so close,” he chuckles, feeling rather than seeing as Cleo steps back. He slowly, carefully, places another bundle of TNT into the minecart, feeling the thing rattle with the weight of how much TNT he’s shoved into it. The sculk clings to his hands as he sets it down onto the block, gripping onto him as he attempts to pull away, unwilling to release him.

He continues pulling his hands back until the sculk accepts its loss, releasing his fingers and withdrawing back to the dirt block he’d provided for it. He watches as it curls itself into the dirt block, then simply engulfs it. He has no better words to describe the way it simply spreads over the block, too fast for him to even track with his eyes, until the entire patch is made of sculk.

He withdraws even more carefully, slowly easing himself out of the hole. He’s aware of the way the dirt clings around his shoulders. One wrong move could set off the trap he’s just spent the better part of ten minutes setting up, and he’d probably be blown to bits alongside it.

Cleo waits until he’s completely free of the hole before continuing to speak. “Where’s your other half today? Didn’t think you came as a single package anymore.”

“Very funny,” he forces a laugh as he turns to glare at them. “I don't know,” he answers. Not at all bitterly. “He ran off this morning before I could even get a chance to speak with him, went off to do…something.”

He sees Cleo frown, eyebrows creasing together. “And you haven’t tried to find him?”

“He needs something, then he’ll find me.” He dismisses Cleo’s worries easily – he’s been dismissing his own all morning, ignoring them in order to actually get anything done. Dismissing Cleo’s probing questions and slightly worried glances is far easier. “He’s been acting all funny recently anyway. If he’s gone off to sort himself out, then that’s fine.”

“Wait, Scott,” Cleo moves around him, pressing their hands down onto the small tunnel entrance and blocking him from poking around in there a little more. He leans back on his heels, knees digging into the ground as he glares up at her. “That’s not at all like Martyn. He sticks around other people as best as he can, even if it means bouncing between several groups. You're telling me he’s disappeared and you're not even worried?”

“Of course I'm worried, Cleo.” He huffs out a breath, resisting for only a moment before he raises his hands to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. It relieves a little of his stress, and also means he doesn’t have to look them in the eye anymore. “But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just have to wait and sit tight and hope he shows up.”

“You said he was acting weird,” Cleo asks, after the silence has hung between them for a moment. “Weird…how?”

“I don't know,” he sighs, dropping his hands. Cleo stares at him. “Ugh, I guess, like, spacing out? He was acting really weird after, uh, yesterday and the whole,” he waves a hand, “canary business. But I thought that was just the shock of all that, and then all the stuff after that. I didn’t even speak to him this morning, but there was this weird air around him. It was really fucking strange, Cleo, and I don't even know what it means!”

“Yeah, alright, alright,” Cleo hesitates for a moment, before patting him on the shoulder. “I think that’s just how he gets at this point. I think he was like this last time? I’d have to repeat myself several times for literally anything to get through to him.”

“I keep forgetting you were partnered with him last time,” he huffs out a laugh. “So he just gets like this every time? Why doesn’t anyone say anything?” He pauses. “Have you said anything?”

“To Martyn? No.” Cleo glances over at a shout from the Clock Tower, then back at him. “To anyone else? …Also no. I didn’t think it was my place to pry or ask around, and I guess that’s the common sentiment. Maybe he’s done it every single time. Maybe he only started doing it last time. Who knows? Maybe he's just gone insane.”

“Pretty sure that’s Joel you're thinking of,” he jokes, and then regrets when it opens up a pit in his stomach.

“Maybe go find him,” Cleo says. They both ignore the slightly heavier air around both of them, the mention of Joel souring their moods rather quickly.

“Yeah,” he brushes the dirt from his hands. “Yeah, I will.” He stands, eyeing the inconspicuous path ahead of them. “Thanks, Cleo.”

“No problem. Hope you find him.”

So do I, Scott doesn’t say. Hope you're still kicking around when I’ve found him, he keeps to himself too. He knows the Clockers aren’t doing well for time, all of their clocks far lower than his own, even after donating some of his time to Scar earlier.

He can feel Cleo watching him. Maybe they're giving him some of their own well wishes.

=== === ===

Going onto Skynet is never his favourite thing. But he’s been poking around on the ground for long enough that he’s rather certain Martyn isn’t hanging around there. Unless he’s dug himself into a hole underground as it currently hiding there until his clock runs out, he’s not on ground-level.

Meaning, into the skies he goes. The ladder is wonky and the rungs are thin enough that they threaten to snap under every step he takes upwards.

He can feel his hands growing sweaty the higher he ascends, nervousness making him glance down and come to terms with just how high he was in the air. With nothing to support him but a quickly and shoddily built ladder to nowhere.

He hauls himself up onto the main chunk of Skynet, grateful for the ground beneath his feet; solid despite being a thousand feet in the air. A drop from here would definitely kill him. A real risk, he realises, when an arrow thunks into the ground at his feet.

He glances over in the direction where it came from, dropping into a crouch. He’s not certain whether that shot was a mistake or a warning. It could have been fully intended to send him stumbling backwards and over the edge. But another arrow doesn’t follow, leaving him staring across the gap between their bridges, the group of three staring back at him.

…Three?

He can just barely see Etho crouched behind the makeshift wall he’s thrown up, the very tips of fuzzy white ears peeking over the edge of the dirt barricade, and Tango beside him is distinctive with his hair aflame. Meaning, no, his eyes are not deceiving him; Martyn really is crouched over with the other two, watching as they shoot at him.

He straightens up, almost planting his hands on his hips and yelling across the gap then and there. For Martyn to just ditch him earlier, and then for Scott to find him with people that have been relentlessly hunting him? Unacceptable. He only holds his tongue because shouting across such a wide gap is embarrassing, and not at all conducive to a proper conversation.

He stares across the gap a little longer, before holding a hand up in the universal gesture for wait.

He then takes a very brave step away from the main landing pad at the top of the ladder, the bridge narrowing even further and leaving him running quickly across the thin branches of Skynet. He keeps his shield held loosely at his side, and can only pray that Etho and Tango – or, gods forbid, Martyn – decide to get in an easy kill and shoot him.

He gets onto the same bridge as them before they start shooting at him, close enough for Scott to start talking to Martyn, even if it means he has to yell to be heard.

“Etho!” He jerks to the side as an arrow skims past his face, close enough that he can hear it whistle as it passes him. “No need!”

He hears Etho chuckling easily enough, even hunkered down behind his own makeshift shelter, only daring to peek over the edge once a moment has passed and his heart no longer threatens to leap from his chest. Martyn, Etho and Tango all peek back at him, lined up near perfectly. Scott might be tempted to take a photo if he wasn’t so irritated.

Another arrow shoots past his face and he scowls, pulling his own bow out and firing right back at them. He sees Tango jump in place and duck down as the arrow goes right over his head, far too high to actually hit anyone.

Several arrows embed themselves in the front of his small defence within a few minutes, making it easy to reach over and collect them up, adding them to his own quiver. “I've got arrows for days!” he calls over to them, grinning and urging them to continue shooting at him.

He notches another arrow, back pressed against his barricade before popping back up again, aiming and ready to fire.

Martyn visibly startles when he reappears, halfway across the bridge connecting them. He almost falls, Scott thinks, teetering dangerously on the edge as he readjusts his balance, shield held cautiously but not protectively in front of himself.

“Martyn,” he warns, not releasing his arrow but not dropping the bow either. He keeps it carefully trained on Martyn’s face, even as Etho and Tango continue to watch the two of them curiously. Martyn glances upwards from where he’d been watching his feet, smiling guiltily. Good.

“Hi,” Martyn continues to grin, even as it turns awkward and even guiltier. “I'm coming over. Can I come over?” Martyn pauses on the bridge then, as though just realising his presence might be unwanted after ditching him all morning.

“I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way. Something that Martyn seems to realise too, as he doesn’t keep moving forward, remaining rooted in place on the stupidly thin bridges that TIES built on a whim and everyone else decided to use. “Why are you with them?” He jerks his bow towards Etho and Tango, taking it off Martyn for a single second.

A single second which is, apparently, long enough for Martyn to run across the rest of the space and drop down beside him, both of them huddled far too close behind this too-small barricade. His knee knocks against Martyn’s, their legs pressing together when he lets them. He’s twisted awkwardly to continue aiming the bow at Etho and Tango, reluctant to take his eye off of them even if Martyn demands his attention with pleading eyes.

“Because I've not seen you yet today,” Martyn’s hand is warm on his arm. Near burning at the point of contact as he pulls at him, urging him to lower his bow. He holds the string of his bow tense for only a moment longer before heaving a great sigh and loosening it gradually, allowing the arrow to fall free from where it had been notched and into his open palm. Martyn continues, seeing him giving in, “I woke up and there was no-one here. There, wherever,” Martyn shrugs. “And then I just…” he trails off, eyes sliding to the side.

The hand on his arm slackens a little, turning from a comforting grip to a weight on his arm. The point of contact no longer burns, his skin warming up and adjusting to the sudden heat of another person.

“And then you just…?” Scott prompts, frowning when Martyn doesn’t give him a response. He’s still watching something off to the side, but when Scott turns to look where he is, there’s nothing there. No person trying to kill them or mysterious floating entity that would cause the kind of look Martyn currently has in his eyes.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of Martyn’s face, frowning when that continues to get no response from him. He rests his hand on Martyn’s cheek, growing even more concerned when that fails to get a reaction from him, sliding his thumb along Martyn’s cheekbone. His hand slips lower to cradle Martyn’s face, bringing his other hand to pat him on the cheek, like trying to wake someone up.

Martyn blinks, eyes refocusing, and then jolts. Scott holds onto him, keeping him in place as he regains his bearings from…whatever the hell just happened.

“When’d you get so close?” Martyn asks, clearly going for joking and missing it by miles. He lands somewhere around confused and worried instead, which only concerns Scott more.

Scott pauses for a moment, considering his next step. “Aw,” he tilts his head to the side, thumb still brushing against Martyn’s cheek affectionately. “Don't tell me you got so caught up in seeing me that you forgot to pay attention?”

Martyn laughs, leaning in a little closer, close enough that their noses are just shy of touching. His eyes are completely focused now, not drifting over Scott’s shoulder to look at something only Martyn can see. It eases something in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was so tight until it loosened all of a sudden.

“Well, it really is quite easy to get lost in your eyes. The depths of them are like an unexplored ocean-”

He shoves Martyn away from him with a laugh. “Don't you start with that,” he warns, mock angry as he wags his finger at Martyn. “That’s a terrible pick-up line, and one that doesn’t even work right now! My eyes are as red as they can be, so don't be silly.”

“Then your eyes are like the ocean in the morning,” Martyn counters. “Did you not see how red it was this morning? Like the sunrise itself had spilled into the waters.”

“How romantic of you.” He doesn’t mention how this morning was the only time the waters were dyed such a colour by the rising sun. Martyn wouldn’t know that, as a late riser, but Scott has watched those waters shimmer beneath the sunrise every morning since they were dumped here.

“Get a room!” Etho very bravely yells over at them, still hiding behind his barricade. “We wanna get past you!”

“Run on past then!” Scott yells back. “What’s there to be scared of!”

“What we might see!” Tango contribute, popping up beside his teammate. “I don't know what you two’re doing behind that!”

Scott scoffs in disgust at the idea. Not only is the entire place made of dirt, but they're also miles in the sky. Not exactly something he’d jump at the idea of.

“Go the other way then!” he yells, getting to his feet. He pulls his shield up just in case, but no arrows come his way. He offers Martyn his hand as he watches half of TIES (two-thirds, his brain supplies helpfully. Two-thirds.) deliberate over their next course of action.

“Cowards!” Martyn yells as Etho begins retreating.

Scott laughs at the offended noise Tango makes, loud enough for them both to hear it. Laughing is easier than thinking about what just happened. Easier than turning Cleo’s words over and over in his mind.

Easier to take Martyn’s hand and lead him away as though none of that happened at all.

=== === ===

He can see Etho watching him as he climbs, ears twisted backwards and crossbow held at the ready. He’s just as pleased to be up here as Etho is. All roads lead to Skynet, apparently, meaning he’s back on the hellish thing, praying that nothing breaks.

“We’re just here to talk,” he assures, crouching on the lip of cobblestone just above the ladder, reaching a hand down slowly for Martyn to take. He feels it slot into his hand easily, burning hot against freezing cold.

“Promise?” Etho keeps his crossbow held tightly in his hands. Not that Scott blames them. This is the time for temporary alliances, certainly, but he doubts anyone is above faking a temporary alliance to get closer to someone just to kill them.

“Promise.”

Martyn settles onto the ledge beside him, though Martyn sits down, legs swinging off the edge as he watches Martyn. Scott remains crouched, one hand flat against the cobbles, hunched over like some kind of gargoyle.

He probably looks like one, too. Fish-like spines and fins make it rather hard to hide the changes he’s undergone since going red. The scales layering over his skin and remaining thick until his elbows make it even more so. He can only be glad that he still has his legs, or that It didn’t decide to give him some kind of tail to weigh him down further.

“Okay,” Etho takes a step closer, and, in an incredible show of good faith, tucks his crossbow away so none of them have any weapons. “Let’s talk, then.”

Scott grins, more than a little satisfied with himself. It’s always risky reaching out for another alliance this late in the game, but taking the risk is better than leaving the ending unknown. This is a way for them to have a better shot at winning.

“The biggest hour- time, thingy, is the Nosy Neighbours,” he starts. “Pearl and Grian have the most time right now.”

“And they're a pretty strong team,” Etho glances over in the direction of the Neighbours’ tower, expression considering. “There’s three of them in it.”

Martyn hums something that vaguely sounds like agreement, but when Scott looks over at him, he’s staring off into space again, not at all registering the space around them. Scott shuffles a little closer to him, pressing his hip into his side in the hopes that the contact can bring him back from wherever his mind has wandered off to. Contact has helped, in the previous moments where he’s been like this.

“And we’re two sets of two,” Scott says. He feels momentarily guilty for pointing it out when Etho looks saddened by the reminder that Tango is gone now, too.

“Well,” Etho rocks back on his heels. “I can’t find Impulse at the moment- not a clue where he’s wandered off to.”

Maybe Etho’s words summon him, because Scott watches a blur plummet down onto the Mansion, disappearing under the water for a moment before resurfacing. Even from their distance, he’s able to make out the distinctive yellow ‘i’ on his shirt.

“Grian fell from Skynet,” Martyn says, blinking back to reality.

“Uh, no,” he gives Martyn a confused look from the corner of his eye. “That’s Impulse.”

“I- what?” Martyn glances over at the Mansion, “Oh! Yeah, yeah, that’s Impulse. Yeah.”

Etho gives them a funny look, eyes squinting as he studies Martyn.

“We can summon him over here,” Scott says, distracting Etho before he can ask too many questions. He’d been hanging out with Martyn earlier, could have seen his spacy-ness. Could identify it as something to be used later. Something that Scott would prefer him not to do. “Tell him we have Etho.”

“Like some kind of hostage situation?”

“Ooh, yeah,” Martyn nods along with Etho’s suggestion. “Let’s take him hostage.”

“Or we can just go down and meet him?” Etho suggests. He doesn’t look excited at the hostage idea, go figure. “I don't want to make him climb all the way back up for nothing.

“I don't really want to climb all the way back down there,” he complains, but its for nought as Etho clambers up to where they're sitting, leading the (very slow) charge down to the base of the ladder. His arms feel shaky by the time he reaches the bottom, from both exertion and exhaustion. He feels like he hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

Scott taps out the message on his comm, feet firmly planted into the nice sandy ground below him. It’s a comfort, to be back on truly solid ground again, even with the TIES’ wonky tower casting a slightly uneven shadow over them all.

<Smajor1995> come to us

He follows behind Martyn and Etho absently as he continues to type, hopping over the small blast craters easily and circling around the larger ones just as easily. He has to pause for a moment to bat away a zombie, sword slashing straight through its chest and sending it dissolving into a pile of dust.

<Smajor1995> we have etho

He knows its an ominous message to leave it on, especially when the two of them have been separated for who knows how long. Etho chuckles a little at it, but doesn’t send a message to reassure his teammate. A sense of urgency makes for swift feet, and they want to deal with the Neighbours as quickly as possible, he supposes. Better to do it now than when their timers are about to run out.

“What do you mean you have Etho?!” Scott spins on the spot to greet Impulse.

“As a friend!” he calls back. “We have Etho as a friend!” A skeleton shoots him as he speaks, managing to actually hit him when he’s sluggish on putting his shield up. It’s enough to make him realise how surrounded by mobs they’ve gotten, closed in on all sides, each of them beating back at least two mobs at a time.

“Let’s go!” he calls out, looking around for a place for them to actually go. He only manages to spot the little cave entrance by chance, remembering the little nook beyond that they can hunker down in for the night. Martyn catches up with him quickly when he realises where Scott’s heading. “Told you framing it like we had Etho as a hostage would work.”

“Yeah, wasn’t you he tried to run through with his sword.” Martyn mutters.

“He didn’t try to run you through with his sword,” he rebukes softly, speaking quieter as they enter the cave, aware that their voices will echo over to the following pair.

“He was thinking it,” Martyn says darkly. “I could sense it; hear it in the air.”

Scott doesn’t even get to ask what the hell that means, because Impulse is suddenly slamming the door shut and saying something about “not letting the zombies in too!”

The plan is laughably easy to make, once they get over their bickering and the small taunts they throw at each other. It’s hard not to point out Impulse’s attempts to blow him up earlier, something that Impulse receives with good grace and lets go as water under the bridge.

It’s only worrying how often Martyn spaces out, only ever chiming back in with something that nearly has Scott questioning how he knows Grian is currently away from the base, or that Pearl is up on Skynet, nevermind that all of them are underground and have been for the better part of twenty minutes, formulating the plan they're going to use to try and eliminate their biggest threat. How Martyn knows this is a mystery, but not anything that anyone is questioning, for some reason?

It doesn’t stop Scott from inching a little closer, until they're close enough to touch. So Scott can make sure he’s still real, still there. Not yet gone and seeing things that only the dead are meant to see.

It’s unnerving, how Martyn’s eyes go far away when he thinks about something, considers a question that he realistically shouldn’t have the answer to.

It’s terrifying when he tilts his head to the side, as though angling himself to listen to something more intently.

=== === ===

Oh this is new, he thinks, when he enters the tower that he knows BigB is in, and there’s no-one there. He holds his sword steady, laughing a little as he looks around.

He’s not invisible, no small swirls of smoke giving away his position as he moves. There’s absolutely no indication of where BigB is, other than the faint impression that there’s a person right in front of him.

“Oh, you're invisible,” he says aloud, mostly to himself.

“Am I?” BigB’s voice comes from a little to the left, and he swings for it, sword sweeping in a wide arc as he hopes it catches on flesh. It jerks to a stop as it embeds itself in…some part of BigB. He stares hard at that spot in front of him, but his eyes refuse to focus, sliding away whenever he tries to look for longer than a second.

“You are,” he confirms, ignoring BigB’s small grunt of pain as he yanks his sword back towards himself, holding it up defensively. This entire fight just got a lot harder if BigB isn’t the one doing this. It can only be one other doing this, sabotage against him. Something to make him fall a little easier. He loses track of where BigB is, the empty tower around them making his footsteps echo and hard to track. “I'm sure this fight will be easy enough, though.”

“No it won’t!”

Gotcha.

He swings around, spinning on the heel of his foot to make it quicker, flipping his sword at the last moment and slamming the blunt edge of his blade into BigB’s side, winding him rather than slicing him in half.

He swings his sword up to block at the shing of a blade being unsheathed, feeling the invisible weapon press down against his hands, heavy and forcing him to bend beneath it. He bends his knees, sinking a little lower. BigB laughs, excited at this upper hand he’s gained.

Scott holds it a little longer, ignoring the way his arms begin to shake from the strain. Only when he’s certain BigB is pressing most of his weight down against him does he slip away, dropping his sword and darting out of range as fast as he can.

‘As fast as he can’ is apparently not fast enough, feeling the cool metal of a blade dig into his back before he manages to slip completely away, hissing through clenched teeth at the burning sensation that quickly spreads over his back.

“Hah!” BigB cheers at this small victory, even as Scott turns back to face him. The wavering outline of something vaguely resembling a person is all he has to go off of. It’s like the wavering air above stone on a hot day. “Still confident?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. He ignores the way he has to readjust his grip on his sword, hand sweaty as he backs up another step. Whatever invisibility gift this is, it’s not fair. He has a rather good idea of who is doing this, and he cusses them out silently in his mind. Maybe They’ll be able to hear his swearing. “You think I’ll go down that easily?”

He can feel the blood soaking through his shirt rather quickly. For a surface wound, it’s bleeding a lot, and really quite painful.

He still swings when BigB comes at him again, the sound of feet on the cobbles his only indicator. Swinging in such a wide arc wrenches something in his shoulder, and he swears he can feel the flesh tearing further, strained apart like the threads of a garment, stretched beyond breaking point.

In the end, BigB catches him unawares. A rather easy feat, considering he can’t see the other man.

He gasps at the feeling of a blade piercing his flesh, stumbles back – tries to stumble backwards, finds himself stuck on whatever weapon he’s just been impaled with. The weapon he can’t see, but his mind still registers the pain pain pain of a slow death. Still registers the blood blossoming around the puncture.

He can see his insides, vaguely and through a distorted lens. It warps, as though he should be seeing something other than the tearing of his blood vessels and his parted flesh. He can see organs you're not meant to see, curled around himself in the way that he is, can see the puncturing of these probably vital organs which is not a good sign for his continued survival. His flesh is darker than he thought it would be, and bleeds for far longer than he expects.

He lasts far longer than he expected, shallow breaths wheezing out of him as he crumples to the ground.

“Woah, hey,” hands he can’t see lay over his arms, the faint feeling of pressure against his skin the only thing his mind registers. He can see his skin indent where hands press against his forearms, idents that can only be created by hands holding onto him. Hands that he cannot, for some reason, see. “It’ll be over in a sec, I’m sure.”

Scott tilts his head back and allows himself a small groan. He’s bleeding out slowly and sluggishly, he thinks he can afford a singular moment of pain amongst this shitshow.

He almost reaches the point of asking BigB to just slit his throat when the room spins dizzying circles around him, and words are coming from an unseen mouth, unseen hands brushing up and down his arms in what is probably meant to be a reassuring gesture, but is actually just unnerving.

He chokes on the blood in his mouth, and wakes with it still coating his teeth.

=== === ===

“Do you want to get BigB again?” Martyn asks, turning to him with a gleam in his eyes.

Scott hasn’t decided whether he likes this new Martyn yet or not. The Martyn of earlier, with his listless expression and drifting thoughts was not fun to deal with nor exciting to observe, but the Martyn of the here and now, the Martyn with an anticipatory gleam in his eye and a pep in his step at the thought of killing someone else is also not reassuring.

“Not really,” he replies, as casually as he can. “I got my time back from him.”

“And you don't want more?”

“Uh, not really, no.” He and Martyn are alone right now, Impulse and Etho splitting off from their little group momentarily. He doubts they’ll join back together again, everyone’s clocks hanging far too low to trust someone you only made a temporary alliance with.

(For just a moment, Scott wishes they’d come back. Come and act as a buffer between him and the ally that he no longer recognises. The gleam in his eye is dangerous, it warns. A herald of what is to come. He considers, briefly, slipping away into the night and disappearing until his clock runs out of time. Until that last grain of sand in his hourglass slips through and buries him completely. He’s not sure he wants to see what will happen if it’s just him and Martyn. When it’s just him and Martyn.)

“Alright,” Martyn drags the word out, as though he doesn’t believe him. Maybe he doesn’t, with the red-blindness that seems to descend onto everyone at this point, looming over their shoulders like a particularly grim reminder. He can almost hear the clocks ticking down, beat by beat, moment by moment. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he says. “I do say so.”

Martyn considers him for another moment longer. Watches him with those red eyes that seem to hold nothing but calculations behind them. A measure of how long it would take to overpower someone, how long it would take to bleed them dry of their blood and their time. How many arrows to divert someone from their chosen path. How many swings of the sword before their time can be claimed, like the spoils after a hunt.

Scott hates it. Hates this. Hates what his friends become. Hates what it is – who it is – that makes them do it.

Martyn shrugs and turns away. His walk is casual, deceptively so. He moves quickly, off to kill whoever it is that he’s set his mind on. Possibly the Nosy Neighbours, eyes set on them as a target, like a dog with a bone, relentlessly gnawing on it as though that will force it to produce something more.

Ah, yes. That’s what it is.

Martyn watches him as though his heart no longer beats, as though he is nothing more than a chunk of flesh to be devoured for the benefit, what he might gain from it.

Scott walks in the opposite direction to Martyn and hopes, rather selfishly, that they don’t have to cross paths again.

=== === ===

All paths lead back to the clock. All lead back to the timer ticking down, hanging heavy over their heads and around their necks; a slowly tightening noose.

Perhaps it is fitting, then, with his clock at a negligible amount that they arrive at the Clock Tower. Built at the centre of their little world. Everything revolves around the clock, and the Clockers have made sure they cannot forget that.

The face of it peers down at them, despite Scott not being able to see it from where he stands now. He can feel it. Can feel the ticking of the hands, the shifting and grinding of the gears that allow it to turn. Will allow it to turn long after each of them is dead.

Martyn and Impulse watch each other warily, watch him warily. He watches them back, far less wary than either of them.

He can see how this plays out, can see the end already in the tight grip of a hand upon a sword. Can see the way such a hand refuses to release the last weapon he holds, refuses to give up his one advantage here. Can see how the hand hesitates when moving to unstrap his armour, to unbuckle the plates and let them fall loosely to the ground.

Scott undoes the strap in one unceremonious movement, only grimacing slightly at the clatter as it hits the ground, rolling uselessly around his feet.

Martyn watches him, suspicion misting his eyes. His hand continues to falter, resting over his heart and over his chestplate. One that has still to be removed. Impulse’s armour lays on the ground, too, scattered around in pieces as though he’d simply tossed it aside carelessly in his eagerness to get it off.

Scott tilts his head to the side, almost imperceptibly, watches the way Martyn tracks the tiny movement. The way Impulse does not.

There is a question in his eyes, one that he is not sure Martyn can read anymore. The Martyn of yesterday would have been able to. The Martyn that still cared to scrub his hands free of blood, the one that cared enough to clean beneath his nails, so not even the slightest speck of blood would continue to stain his hands.

The Martyn of today is not the one he has spent time getting to know better. He is not the one that could read a question in the tilt of his eyebrows or the squint of his eyes. He is not the one that would be able to read the question in his eyes right now, swimming just below the surface. Maybe Martyn reaches for that understanding he once had, but the explanation slips away easily, a fish disappearing beneath the surface once more.

So maybe he doesn’t read the implicit permission. The silent question that doesn’t need an answer. Because Martyn might not be able to read his eyes, might not be able to read anything from him at this point, but Scott can still read him. Can still see the plan in his eyes, the way it whirrs in his brain as he smooths out the crinkles and finalises it.

Still, despite Martyn’s plan being finalised, set in stone and ready to be carried out regardless of what anyone says, Scott gives him a small nod that he might not catch. A granting of permission. A better you than anyone else. Martyn might not understand it. May have lost the ability to read him entirely.

He still ends up with a sword through the heart, pulled out slowly, longingly. Blood coats the inside of his mouth, and when he coughs, feels it spilling over, it feels like a parting kiss.

[jettboat]

Apocalypse AU - Chapter 2 - Information

Ren noticed the new symptoms the next day. When he woke up at dawn and made his way to the bathroom to straighten up.

Staring at himself in the mirror and the dim light overhead, the werewolf could see one of his eyes had turned Ren, his fangs had grown sharper, and so did his claws. It terrified him.

There was a knock on the door, Ren hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted anyone to see him... Much less his boyfriend when he found him. He shook himself from his fear and opened the door.

Skizz stood there, his eyes and horns glowed faintly in the shadows.

"Hey Buddy! You doing okay?" The warden hybrid asked.

"Uh... Yeah. Yep. All good. Did I wake you?" Ren replied.

Skizz laughed softly. "You did but I'm a light sleeper, plus I saw the bathroom light on."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dude." Ren said, his ears going back.

"Nono! It's all good! Etho was going to get on me for sleeping in again anyways." He said with such a kind smile that almost made Ren feel like he could trust him. "Wanna help me look for breakfast?"

Ren nodded and Skizz flicked off the light and led the werewolf to the breakfast aisle. The warden began checking the expiration dates on a packet of bacon. Ren took a look at a breakfast sandwich's date.

"I never asked, how did you get that scratch?" Skizz asked.

Ren froze, unsure whether to tell the truth or not.

"I... Was trying to escape a building once I got cornered." He said, leaving out Martyn.

Skizz hummed. "Any more symptoms? Besides the red eye, fangs, extra hunger?"

Ren simply held up the box to Skizz, giving the man a look at his claws.

"There are whispers too." Ren said.

Skizz nodded, studying the man's claws. "Etho's mentioned that, unfortunately I don't know too much about it. Etho might have some theories though."

Skizz set the bacon down and grabbed a packet of sausage.

"Let me know if you start getting more angry, okay?" He said.

"Alright." Ren said. "Thanks again, for all of this."

"No problem, Buddy!" Skizz smiled.

Etho was waiting for them when they got back, he had changed into a puffy jacket and was sipping a Capri-Sun. A book was on his lap, Ren couldn't see what it was about though.

What Ren could see was that Etho was no longer a unicorn hybrid, he was now a creeper hybrid with four legs and grass and branches peeking out of his hair.

The werewolf stopped short, Skizz set his collection of food down and began setting up the electric pan. He looked up at Ren and his smile faded, his gaze shifted between the werewolf and the creeper hybrid for a moment.

"You didn't tell him did you?" Skizz asked, making Etho look up.

Etho's eyes widened, matching Ren's feeling of fear.

"Uhh... Surprise?" The creeper hybrid laughed.

"What is going on???" Ren asked frantically, putting the food next to Skizz's pile.

"...I'm a shapeshifter." Etho said after earning a glare from Skizz.

Ren sat down across from them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, the trust fizziling out a little.

"I didn't want you freaking out, Skizz did when I told him." He explained. "Then I kind of... Forgot that I didn't say anything."

Ren sighed before grabbing his sunglasses, the rising sun was going to make his eyes hurt.

"I'm literally a werewolf, no need to worry about freaking out." He said with a smile. "Skizz said you might have some theories about the whispers?"

Etho nodded. "I think its someone in the woods. Definitely started the infection, just don't know who."

Ren wondered if maybe Skizz or Etho started it. He quickly pushed the thought away though.

"Who's Martyn?" Etho asked, scaring Ren from the video game he was playing.

Ren turned and his heart stopped. Etho was holding up a picture that he had kept in his pocket of him and Martyn.

The werewolf quickly snatched it out of Etho's grip and abandoned his game.

"No one!" He snapped.

The creeper hybrid wasn't satisfied with that answer.

"The back says one year anniversary." He countered.

Ren bit his lower lip. He didn't want them to know. What if something happened?

"He doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want to, Etho!" Skizz said.

"I just-"

"He's my boyfriend." Ren said, cutting Etho off and making them look over at him. "We got seperated when I got infected."

"Oh." Etho mummered.

"Is he?..." Skizz started.

"No! A-at least, I hope not." Ren answered.

They sat in silence for a while before the pan beeped and Skizz began making breakfast.

Martyn was wandering through the woods. He had slept in a tree the following night and was making his way back to the truck.

Only problem was the truck was on fire.

Martyn quickly grabbed a bucket and ran to the lake to get water. He threw the water onto the flames, a few more round of this and the fire was out. The car was a burnt husk.

The datastream being quickly looked around the vehicle.

"Ren? Ren! Oh, please, please don't be in here." He said softly as he searched.

Luckily, he didn't find him. But that left the question.

Where was he?

--------------------------------------------------------

Now you guys are caught up with the infection! Gosh, I love these two seperated love birds.

[mla0]

Can you tell me some shaunvin headcanons you have... I'm bored and I've been pulling an all-nighter waiting for MLA0 updates :(

gladly! :D i love talking about them. gonna use he/him for vinny to differentiate the two characters, but i think vinny would use any pronouns overall :3

i think everything they've both been through has made it very hard for them to communicate or simply talk about themselves, so i think in their day to day there'd be a lot of just, silently coming over and huddling up to the other one wordlessly. it's their way of saying "i don't feel good right now, but i don't want to talk about it," and they both understand it

more of a funny headcanon but i think both of them made the other have a crisis. vinny goes from "hang on, i'm a lesbian, and now i'm into a guy all of a sudden?" to "wait is shaun trans too???" and shaun goes through an entire arc from "wait im a guy and hes a guy do i like men??" to "oh, vinnys trans. why does that make me feel weirdly jealous." to "wait am i a girl." in the future this becomes a very funny inside joke for them both

shaun's technically better than vinny at video games, but for whatever reason she always loses to him anyways. whether this is just to flatter vinny or because she's too gay to function in a competition is up to the imagination. i think they'd like to play casual games together just to kill time and relax

they both try their best to help the other with the ways their experiences have affected their mental health. vinny always tries his best, but doesn't always know what to do because shaun won't actually say how she feels and ironically, only makes him more anxious. shaun is always trying her best for vinny too, but hates being cared about in return. she'd feel horribly guilty for realizing she could've done so much more for michael, but simply chose not to and there's no excuse for it. every time vinny or herself has an episode she thinks of him, and in her mind she doesn't deserve any help when she never gave any. vinny knows something is wrong, and i think this is one of the many areas where they'd have to have some very uncomfortable teeth-pulling conversations. vinny is desperate to help people and understand them where he can, so shaun being closed off on this makes him panic, and shaun being reassured or told not to feel so horrible only makes her more obsessive about it, and it can make her extremely angry because you just don't get it

at the very beginning of them living together, they'd have completely different sleep schedules. vinny'd be a night owl and stay up until the sun is rising, go to bed, and then shaun would wake up extremely early and go to bed almost as soon as it's dark out. they'd do little things to look out for each other. shaun would make a pot of coffee and put it in the fridge so when vinny wakes up, he doesn't need to sleepily try to make it himself. vinny keeps the main lights on because shaun is terrified of the dark. over a long time, vinny would slowly melt into having shaun's sleep schedule, while pushing it a little later so now their sleep schedules are a little more "normal." them cuddling up to each other makes them both less afraid and antsy, so they can sleep without nearly as much worry. plus, they can immediately be there if the other has a nightmare

they're both autistic but neither of them know it. they have very linked senses of humor and are able to fit into each others lives really easily, boundaries most people would push never do with each other, but they never question why that is. vinny knows something is up with himself but doesn't think it matters to check anything, and shaun is deep in denial and would rather kill herself before being within 100 feet of a psychologist for any reason

shaun's quite a bit shorter than vinny, but don't be fooled. they can and will alternate who the little spoon is regardless. shaun cares not. that 5'3 woman will literally cling to vinny's back like a koala and vinny won't do shit because he loves it, actually. shaun always whines and complains when it's her turn to be the little spoon, but it secretly makes her feel very secure and safe for once in her life. i think they soak up physical affection because they both just want someone to lean on, and neither one is exactly a poet when it comes to words. they don't need to say anything deep or special. they just need to be there for each other and that's enough for them both

despite both characters being written off as "selfish" sometimes, i think both of them know deep down, past a certain point in their relationship, that they'd almost certainly jump into the fire to save the other. neither one is willing to lose the last person they have left

[little-cereal-draws]

ok I need witchy help again. There's a grove of trees behind my dorm that's being cut down and I know there's nothing I can physically do to stop it but I want to protect the animals that live there.

There are two barbed wire fences and a highway separating us so I've never actually been in it, but I've been spending several hours a day looking at this grove for abt a year and a half. There's a shipping company located behind the trees and semitrucks with shipping containers drive around it. Idk what company it is but now they're cutting down the trees, adding lights that block out the stars, and paving over it. I watched them rip about a fourth of it out with their machinery this morning.

It makes me so fucking furious I want to go over there and tell them to stop and so sad that I want to cry. Those trees have been such an important part of my own mental health even if I can't get close to them and I know SO many creatures live there. I've started having stress dreams abt them ripping it out when they started abt a week ago and a lot of my dreams involved using magic to stop it.

I tried googling it but I couldn't find any protective charms or spells for the environment, they were all protection for yourself that uses the environment. I don't want to want to hex that company, I just want to protect the animals that live there and give them a new place to stay. I am a baby witch who's also a broke/busy college student so smth that's quick and easy would be preferred but I'll take anything.

More of my angry rant under the cut bc I'm furious

List of animals that I've seen living in the trees and in the small swamp in front of it over the years:

opossums

multiple families of raccoons

a cat colony with kittens

eight different species of frogs

cranes

many different species of corvid

owls

bats

a family of red shouldered hawks

vultures

rabbits

foxes

many different species of jay

snakes

leeches (yes they deserve to be saved too)

turtles

skinks

lizards

geckos

many different species of insects, there's no way I can list them all

hummingbirds

mourning doves

a singular alligator

Every single fucking day I watch the cranes fly East to sleep on the river as the sun sets. I've seen them fly West to the swamps as the sun rises too. I saw two vultures courting the other day. The raccoons, cats, and opossums don't run from me anymore and will happily let me get within a few feet of them (I never try to touch them). I know exactly which trees the bats live in. I saw a moth that was bright blue and orange, mimicking a species of wasp. I saw a species of hawk I had never seen before. I talk and sing to the trees even if there are no animals there. That was the only place I've seen a wild fox. The cranes land in the swamp and hunt the frogs. There's a huge bullfrog that lives in the back corner. I've saved baby snakes and turtles from cars. They both easily fit in the palm of my hand. I thought I found an injured bird the other day and was totally ready to help it even though I don't know how (it turned out to be fine, just behaving really strangely). Every time it rains, I go out and pick worms off the sidewalk for hours. The trees are where I go to get away from the stress of my schoolwork, my two jobs, and my roommates.

I need this ecosystem so fucking much, I have hung so much of my mental health on it and now they're coming in and ripping it out and paving over it!!!! They're putting more barbed wire, more pavement, more streetlights. I want to see the tall grass and the puddles and the trees and the hills not a FUCKING PARKING LOT WITH TRUCKS BEHIND A FENCE. I AM SO SCARED FOR THE CREATURES THAT LIVE THERE, I NEED THEM TO BE OK. EVEN IF I LOSE THE TREES, I'LL FEEL BETTER KNOWING THAT THE ANIMALS ARE SOMEPLACE SAFE. THERE'S A HIGHWAY LITERALLY ON ALL SIDES, I DON'T KNOW WHERE ELSE THEY CAN GO. I NEED THEM TO BE OK

[ladyhoneydee]

30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 30!!!!!!

Ahhhh this is it!!!! Finally the last day of my Song(fic) Challenge! It's been quite the ride, and while I might do a little self-indulgent reflection post tomorrow, tonight I am going to try to get this done before it's literally 2am the next day where I live lol.

The prompt for today was "A song you want to share". I couldn't pick one, and so I ended up synthesizing two: "To Be Enchanted" by Sleeping at Last, and "4 O'Clock" by V and RM from BTS. "To Be Enchanted" is a more recent song discovery for me, and one I've related as it comes to feeling pessimistic about myself and my journey and needing to remind myself of the joys in living; by contrast, "4 O'Clock" has been a beloved favorite of mine since 2019, and I've listened to it as a soothing entry on hundreds of night walks over the years.

Shadows and Sorrows

Game: Ocarina of Time

Pairing: Sheik & Link (although Sheik/Link is endgame to me ofc)

Word Count: 2430

Keywords: angst, hurt/comfort, healing

The comfort ached like too much sugar in the center of a molar, but he clung on for Link’s sake, as he squeezed Sheik’s hand so tightly the bones ground together. They sat in heartbroken silence: the boy who had to grow up too fast, and the boy who had forced it upon him.

Read the fic on Ao3, or under the cut!

Bright light, shaded in blue, illuminated on the Triforce mosaic over Lake Hylia. Sheik shaded his eyes as he leapt behind the withered old tree just behind it, alarm and adrenaline pulsing through his body. That was Link’s teleportation magic, from the Ocarina of Time Zelda had tossed him all those years ago…but the timing was wrong. The lake hadn’t been restored yet, as Sheik anticipated would happen with the purging of the Water Temple and the awakening of Princess Ruto as a Sage. Worse still, it was still night, with hours yet until morning; Sheik had calculated, based on Link’s speed at completing the two previous temples, that if he emerged successfully, it would be along with the rising of the sun.

He was too early. Far too early. Was he hurt? Had something gone wrong? Sheik rummaged in his bindings for potions, gauze, anything that could help the hero, as the light gave one final, blinding flash, and flickered out. Sheik swore he could hear the echo of the final note of the Serenade of Water in the air. 

Link’s silhouette, recognizable by his pointy hat, the breadth of his shoulders, and the glow of his white tights in the moonlight, crumpled to its knees with a wretched cry. Sheik gasped, and forfeited the meager cover of the tree to race to his side. 

“Link?! Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

His hands hovered over Link’s body, desperate to run along the planes of him to ascertain that he was okay, but terrified of hurting him further with careless touches. 

Link looked up, and Sheik flinched back at the tear-soaked hollowness in his eyes and the dark puffiness of the skin beneath them. A bloody line, thinner than one of Sheik’s throwing needles, traced the curve of his right cheek, and he could make out the shadows of a bruise blooming on his lower neck just above where the collar of his tunic could hide the rest.

“I’m okay,” Link whispered hoarsely. Sheik had never heard him sound so incredibly ragged, as though his throat had been scoured with sandpaper. “I’ve had worse.”

Sheik’s head, which had been craned down to scan Link’s torso for any obvious injuries—damn the dark blue of the tunic, making it so hard to see bloodstains in the dark!—snapped back up. “I have seen you with a bone sticking out of your leg and most of your body covered in third-degree lava burns, before your last fairy got to you. That does not give me confidence!” Sheik clenched his hands into fists to keep from closing them around Link’s shoulders and shaking them. “Are you as far gone as the Fire Temple, or not?!” 

Link blinked at him, wide-eyed, and Sheik felt the skin of his palm burn beneath his nails at the shrieking silence of not knowing. 

“No, it’s not,” he finally said, head drooping down as if it could not lift even the weight of Sheik’s fearful, furious gaze. “I only have a few cuts and breezes. The worst is on my stomach, but it’s not deep at all.”

The heat of Sheik’s anger whooshed out of him with his heavy exhale. “Thank the goddesses.” He retrieved the only potion he had on him, its crimson shade gone grayscale in the moonlight, and thrust it towards Link. “Drink.”

“I wouldn’t want to waste—”

“You have a cut on your stomach. I don’t think even you know where that tunic has been, so you have a good chance of infection if you don’t treat it or at least clean it.” The potion pressed none-too-gently into Link’s unbloodied cheek. “Drink.”

Scowling, Link took the potion from him, and uncorked the lid. Two swallows, and he lowered it again.

“All of it.”

The scowl deepened. The potion disappeared. Sheik took the empty bottle back, and watched Link as the agony of feeling his skin knit back together twisted his face and made him double over with a wail. A shiver of sympathy crawled up Sheik’s spine with spider-like legs.

Even after the last trembles of the painful healing worked their way out of Link’s frame, he remained hunched over, his long blond bangs obscuring his face. It took a few moments and for a new sort of jolting to begin for Sheik to realize that he was crying.

“Oh, Link…” 

Sheik wrapped one arm around Link’s back, and guided him to the ground. Link followed limply, as if he were nothing more than a puppet, the only fight in him the shudders of his sobs. Sheik crouched before him, brows knit together, heart like a dark, cold stone in his chest.

“What happened?”

Sheik didn’t get an answer for a long while, as Link cried and cried. Even after he ran out of tears—which was very concerning, didn’t the boy carry any water with him?—the seizing wheezes of his lungs and sniffling of his nose continued far longer than Sheik had thought possible. (Of course, Sheik hadn’t allowed himself to cry like this since he was eleven, so he had no guidelines for what could be considered ‘normal’.) 

Eventually, Link wiped his nose with the sleeve of his white undershirt, leaving it glistening in the moonlight. With a final sniffle, he began to speak, or try to.

“In the temple…”

Fresh tears. Another few moments. Sheik’s thighs began to burn from the strain of holding his crouch for so long, and he reluctantly lowered himself to sit fully on the ground as well.

“In the temple, I met…me.”

“Like…your reflection?” Sheik’s brows wrinkled. “Yes, water is prone to that…”

“No, not…it wasn’t the water. It came from the water, but it wasn’t the water. It was me.” Link paused, as if realizing what he was saying didn’t make any sense, and let out a heavy, wet sigh. “I mean, it looked like me. It was like…my shadow, given shape. Physical form. With a sword just like mine.” One hand rose to brush the familiar pommel hovering over his right shoulder. 

“A shadow given form…” Sheik pondered this. Growing up, he’d heard legends of a Realm of Shadows, a place where monsters were eternally reborn to infest Hyrule, and where ‘shadows slept’. He’d had nightmares about it that upon awakening only increased his terror, that these dreams, too, might be prophetic. 

What a wonderful world they lived in, where the every nightmare of a disbelieved child came to life to stalk the earth and haunt the ones who had hoped to put them to rest.

“I think it was more than just my shadow, though.” Link hesitated. “When I looked at it…it was like looking at the darkest parts of me.” His voice quivered. “It was so…sad. It had this longing in its eyes, and it looked…haunted. And angry. But not at me.

“I thought I had to kill it. It was in the same sort of room that I’ve faced minibosses in before, big and empty besides the entity. And I…I wanted it gone. I didn’t want to look at it anymore. It was just…too much like me. So I drew my sword and I slashed at it, but when I did, it mirrored me, exactly.” He motioned towards his abdomen. “That’s how I got cut.”

Sheik sucked air through his teeth and winced in sympathy, but said nothing, letting Link take the space he needed to continue. 

“I kept trying to attack it, but I was scared. I didn’t want to get hurt. It was just as good as me, and I didn’t know how it was doing that…and as I got more scared, it got more…sad. I could see its eyes. They were so…” Link stiffened in remembrance. “It…pitied me.”

Hesitantly, Sheik reached out and patted Link’s knee in comfort. Link gave him a wan smile, but dropped it again almost immediately.

“Eventually I stopped. And it stopped too. And it started…talking.”

At this, Sheik couldn’t hold back anymore. “Talking? What did it say?”

Link flinched back at his volume, and bit his lip. “It said. It, um. It said.” He paused, and Sheik saw the sobs building again, the jolts of his diaphragm beneath his tunic. “It said that I couldn’t defeat it. And I got mad, and I told it, I told it ‘How dare you!’. All righteous. And it saw right through me. It…it took my hand. I saw its hand around mine, but I couldn’t feel it.”

Sheik could picture it. The shadowy grasp around Link’s own, thunderclouds obscuring the sun. The alarm and fear Link must have felt, when most every touch he ever experienced was intended to hurt. Sheik’s heart ached for him. 

“It said it knew me, because–because it was me. And it said that I could never defeat this part of me.” A thick sob snapped Link’s voice like a twig, and when he spoke again, it was in a croaking whisper that made Sheik lean in closer to be able to hear properly. “I thought I’d failed. I thought I was going to die, that it was going to kill me. Because, because that’s what defeat means!” 

Sheik swayed back in alarm at Link’s sudden shout, at the dried-blood panic encrusting his expression. Link flinched immediately as well, and crumpled again, chest caving in and shoulders slumping.

“And then…it touched my face. And it told me that I needed to ‘realize why I’m here’. Well, I didn’t know what to say to that, and I told it so. I said that I was there because of Ruto. Because she needs help. I said I was there for—for you, because you said I needed to do this. I said I was there because of duty and fate and all those things Rauru said. I said I was there because of Zelda.”

Sheik kept his face stone-still, but inside was sent reeling, as if pitched from a cliff into the void. The first time his old name had been used around him in years, and it was in—what even kind of context was this? Did Link resent him? Hate him? He must, to keep Zelda in the same company as duty and fate.

…It didn’t matter. Bury the feeling, bury the guilt. Bury it beside Zelda in the grave she needed to stay in, until she was needed once again. Right now, Link was the important one. 

“It wouldn’t tell me what it thought. It just begged me to–to keep trying. It sounded so desperate, as if it was hurting even more than me. And then it…it just melted away. Into me.”

“Into you? Nayru’s love, Link, are you alright?”

He nodded miserably. “It didn’t hurt. I just…felt cold. And I just…all at once…” Link made a motion with his hands resembling a storm and a spiral in one. “I couldn’t stay there anymore. I had to get out. So I…came here.” He cast bloodshot eyes in Sheik’s direction. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Sheik whispered. And for the first time since he was eleven…he reached out and took someone’s hand.

The comfort ached like too much sugar in the center of a molar, but he clung on for Link’s sake, as he squeezed Sheik’s hand so tightly the bones ground together. They sat in heartbroken silence: the boy who had to grow up too fast, and the boy who had forced it upon him.

“Link?” Sheik whispered, after what could’ve been one minute or one hour.

Link wiped away another trickling tear with his free sleeve. “Hm?”

“I don’t know if this is what the—what your shadow meant. But…I think…I want to say…” He trailed off, frustrated. “There’s no good way to say it, so just—Link, you don’t need to defeat the part of you that’s scared and sad and angry. You don’t exist to fix the messes other people made. You exist to be happy. To take in the enchantment of every moment. To be able to take time and heal when something hurts you. And I, I’m so fucking sorry that you don’t even know you can do that. No one should grow up thinking that life exists just to hurt.”

Link had gone wide-eyed at Sheik’s swearing, but as tears of Sheik’s own welled from red that had stayed dry for so long, they rounded further into shock. Sheik wanted to scrub away the liquid vulnerability tracking down his face, to pretend it had never happened, but…it wouldn’t be right. Somehow, tonight, they were both tearing holes in their personas, exposing the feelings underneath the masks. And Sheik couldn’t bare everything to Link the way Link had to Sheik, even if he wanted to, so…the least he could give him in return was his throbbing heart.

Link blinked those wide eyes at last, and his long lashes glistened in the moonlight with new wetness. “Now why are you crying?” he teased brokenly. The words fought through a throat bubbling with mucus. 

“Because I’ve never related more to anything or anyone before,” Sheik whispered. He squeezed Link’s hand in his own, gently. 

They both deserved enchantment. It was the cruelest trick of the gods that all they could manage was shattered fragments of honesty under the cold light of the moon. 

Link reached his free hand behind Sheik, and despite the slowness of the motion, he had to remind himself not to jump or wrestle or cut down. But Link’s touch never landed on Sheik’s back or shoulder. Instead, it lightly patted the golden harp strapped to Sheik’s back. 

“Could you play something for me?” He bit his lip. “Just until morning comes. I don’t think it’s far off now.”

Somehow, he was right. While they had cried together, the moon had quickened its descent towards the western horizon, and the croaking of the last surviving frogs in the muddy puddle that had been Lake Hylia had traded out for the melodic calls of the earliest songbirds. 

He unslung the harp and strummed the strings. “I’ll play for you as long as you want.”

And Sheik would. Fuck the temple, fuck the timeline, fuck the shallow poetic beauty of shooting an arrow into the sun that Sheik had planned for Link. They’d get to it all when they were ready. For the rest of tonight, they didn’t have to be. 

He played, and the stars faded. He played, and Link’s head became a warm, sticky weight in his lap as he finally collapsed into sleep. He played, and the red flush of dawn finally freed them of their moonlight blues.

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Nix beloved, I've got something to say. Too nervous to say it upfront so I'm anon.

You were the first person in the Hermitcraft writing community I ever read. I read all the stories you had at the time, and you were the first Tumblr page I bookmarked. I got to know you and more people in the community, and it felt good to have people who understood me in a way my friends and family didn't. Every morning before school, during classes, and about one an hour or so I'd refresh the page to see if there was anything else. It always made my day. Your fics were also what got me into Third Life, so that's another thing!

Now, I've grown to know you as a friend, and talking to you is often one of the best parts of my day. I often hear people referring to their Tumblr community as "their family", and I never understood that until recently. You offer me support and appreciation in a way I wish I could get from my real family. I feel at home when we interact, because I could never be so understood by my parents nor my sister, and they would never support me in little side projects that I want to do, like writing. All they think my future could be is what they want it as, and they always make me put others and my education in front of what I want to do and my own wellbeing. But then I have you telling me to take care, that I come first, not to be pressured by deadlines, to be more open. I've found a friend in you I never could have imagined I would in someone I met online, and it's so precious to me--I wouldn't change it for the world.

Take care, and much love ❤️ /p

Nearly 5 am and I'm about to cry (/pos, I'm also about to sleep so shh, I know I know, it's late, I've been having issues lately)

I relate to a lot of that, especially the stuff about family. What they want for you isn't always what you want for you. That can create a lot of bad situations and it's never easy. But it's your life, it's our own lives. Not theirs

Outside of the internet I really have no one. Even my partner and I met online and are still long distance after 2 years (we're working on it)

The truth is I don't get along with people well, it's hard to find people that share the same interests as me, hard to find people that will accept me as I am. I'm a very blunt, say it as it is person and people don't like that, another reason my family an I don't get along as they're not good people

It's sort of surreal to me when people say that I'm the reason they came here on tumblr or encouraged them to get to know people or I inspired them to start writing. I'm someone who struggles massively with self worth for a number of reasons and it often just feels detached from me, but like, it's happened. I have influenced people in positive ways.

The part of me that holds and deals with my struggles is the same part that makes sure to remind others of their self worth, to look after themselves. I often wish I had someone to tell me and so I tell others in case others feel how I do. That's often the case with things I do, I offer support or an environment I wish I had in the past (and now really..)

I'm not a very big blog, I don't have many people I interact with. I'm glad to have the few I do have, yourself included, and I'm happy to be able to call you my friend as you're a wonderful person.

I hope we can continue to speak and get to know each other, but even without that I'm glad I could be here and I could brighten up at least a few days

Because really that's all that I want to do, provide a safe, positive space where people can enjoy fandom things and just.. make friends, with me or others.

Much love Anon /p (who I definitely don't know who it might be /sarcasm which I can't remember the short indicator for)

[spicy-picklez]

My Lady (Pt 2)

Includes:

Murder, marking/ownership kink, praise kink, fingering, cunnilingus,

Characters:

Brienne of Tarth x fem!reader

Summary:

After a near death encounter, Brienne and Y/N's relationship flourishes.

Word Count:

2.9k

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A/N: apologies for the long wait guys. To say I've had a rough few days would be an understatement. My phone completely fucked itself the other day then the night I got my new phone, my mates and I went out for skids to bring in my mates birthday. Twenty minutes into her birthday, we almost died. The car started sparking and caught fire, one of my mates and I were locked in the back and directly over the fuel tank and the doors were opening. We had to literally step over flames to get out and barely got away before the car blew up. 😅

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By the time you woke the next morning, the sun had just finished rising, the soft morning light settling over your face. Brienne’s arm is slung lazily over the dip of your waist and you smile, feeling her muscular presence behind you. Moving further back into her embrace, you feel her stir behind you. Brienne’s eyes widen as she realises she still had her arm locked over you. “Sorry, my lady.” She mumbles, retracting her arm from your side as she pulls away from you. A deprived whine escapes your lips at the lack of contact. “Get back here before I dislocate your knee again.” You murmur, your voice heavy with sleep.

“Sorry?” Her voice is full of confusion, convinced she misheard you. Taking her arm, you pull it back over you, moving back into her warm embrace as you sigh contentedly. Brienne is shocked. No one had even dared to get close to her, the only ones who did were the ones who were sent to hurt her. She was expecting you to wake up and regret asking her to sleep next to you, not… this. “My lady, what are you doing?” Confusion is evident in her tone as she watches you relax back into her arms.

“I want you here with me.” You say and she can’t help but smile at your words, nodding gently against the back of your neck. Happiness fills her veins, hearing your words replay in her head. More than anything, she wants that too. She lets herself relax behind you, sighing in content at the feeling of you in her arms. What wouldn’t she give to wake up like this every morning.

The birds had long been chirping by the time you and Brienne decided to start your day. The bright sun is now warm against your faces as you slip into your armour. Fastening your sheath around your waist, you step closer to Brienne, placing your hand against her steel armour as she looks at you with confusion. Your other hand wraps around to the back of her neck as she leans down, her arms wrapping around your waist. Tender and loving, you place your lips on hers. A smile pulls at her lips as she pulls you close, deepening the kiss. “Come on, we need to get moving.” She murmurs as you break the kiss. You nod before falling into step with her, enjoying the giddy silence between the two of you.

After a few hours of idle conversation as the two of you hiked through the woods, you and Brienne had come across a rabbit’s burrow and successfully killed the two rabbits inside. You had just finished eating when footsteps sounded through the trees. Two Baratheon soldiers come into view and you freeze. “You.” One of them snarls upon seeing you, both of them drawing their swords. “Arthur. Benji.” You say, unsheathing your sword. You’d already guessed they weren’t too happy with you. After all, you did ruin the entire alliance between the Starks and the Baratheons by leaving Renly at the altar. “Stannis is going to love this. Do you have any idea how big the bounty is on your name, dearest Y/N?” Arthur says, a sickening grin on his face.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be collecting it, Lady Y/N is under my protection.” Brienne says, her voice a tone deeper than usual as she towers above the two knights opposite you. “Brienne the Beauty, don’t tell me you’ve grown a soft spot for Y/N over here.” Benji snickers as she tenses beside you, hearing the ingenuine tone behind her well-hated nickname. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? And I do have to agree with what she said. I'm not just some bounty to collect, Ser Brienne outsmarted me fair and square.” Brienne’s eyes dash towards you with shock at your words. You are literally about to be decapitated and yet you still defend her?

A disapproving sound leaves Arthur’s lips before he lunges forward, your sword ready to block him. The noise of clanging metal echoes through the trees as he continues his attack on you. You skillfully deflect each jab at you as you put your leading leg at the front. With his next attack you let his blade slide down your sword, getting caught on the hilt as your free arm wraps around his sword. Flattening the back of your hand against the hilt, you pull back, trapping his sword under your armpit as he’s left defenceless. You quickly kick your leg out and he falls to the ground. With one fatal slash of your sword, he’s left with a puddle of blood oozing from his neck as he collapses, dead in front of you.

Turning around, you see Brienne battling with Benji, his back exposed to you. Stabbing your sword through his armour, Brienne’s face is splashed with blood droplets as Benji lets out a final strangled breath before you kick him off your blade. Both of you breathing heavily, Brienne looks at you with an unreadable expression. “They were going to kill you, yet you still defended me… why?” An amused smile pulls at your lips. “My dearest Brienne, you still haven’t figured it out have you?” Her confused look signals for you to continue. “You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. If those incompetent goons had killed me, no way was I going to let the last words I hear be a lie.” You say, stepping closer to her.

Her hand reaches out to cup your face as she quickly closes the gap, pressing her lips firmly against yours. Grinning against her lips, the two of you pull each other closer, dishevelled hair falling on your faces. “You’re an idiot. You know that right?” She grins as she rests her forehead on yours. “Only for you… But we should get out of here. Did you want a new sword?” You laugh, holding up Arthur’s sword, embellished with the House Baratheon symbol. She shakes her head, an amused grin on her face. “I’m good but yes, we need to go.” You chuck the sword down as the two of you leave the scene, disappearing into the trees.

“Your sword’s oddly familiar. I just can’t figure out how I know it.” Brienne says, leaves crunching under her boots as you walk. You let out a slight chuckle, unsheathing it so Brienne can have a closer look. Taking it in her hands, she runs her hand up the blade. “I can tell you what sword comes to mind when I look at this but it can’t be.” You chuckle as she admires your sword, a look of fascination and disbelief on her face. “Ice.” Your voice is soft, a tone of amusement behind it. Brienne’s eyes widen as she looks at you. “I thought it was! I heard it’d been stolen from your father though… That was you!?” She looks at you in disbelief as you let off a small chuckle at her reaction.

“It’s quite easy to steal from your family. After I left Renly at the altar, I hung around the outskirts of Winterfell for the rest of the day. Later that night, I snuck into his room while he slept. To be fair, it wasn’t really sneaking, it’s not overly odd for me to be heading into my father’s quarters. Anyway, I replaced it with a cheap knockoff and once I had it, I ran and haven’t been back.” You grin, remembering the adrenaline rush of that night. The middle of the night, dashing through into the forest with only the occasional peek of moonlight through the treetops to guide you. The sound of the six-foot Valyrian steel sword inside its sheath had only fueled you to keep going.

Brienne marvels at the sword in her hands, delicately twirling the blade in her palm as she admires the detail in the hilt. “You are absolutely insane.” She says, disbelief still prominent in her voice. You can’t help the smile pulling at your face as you watch her reaction. Her face is lit up with fascination and a warm feeling grows in your chest at the sight. Sheathing your sword as she hands it back, the two of you continue through the forest, now on the topic of Ice and other well-known swords.

As the sun begins to lose its heat, the two of you decide to call it for the night, finding a small area to sleep for the night before heading out to hunt. Brienne had become a lot more open with you since the incident with Arthur and Benji. The two of you talked for hours about anything and everything, from your first kills to your favourite past-times. By the time you finished eating, the sun was setting. The two of you lean against the base of a tree, staring into the flames of the fire, your armour long since unburdened beside you.

A brief chuckle sounds from beside you. Looking over at Brienne, you signal for her to elaborate. “You know, you look incredibly hot when you're fighting.” She says, continuing to look into the fire with a soft expression. “Oh really?” You can’t help the grin on your face as you hear her words. Her eyes glint with desire as she nods. “It makes me wonder… how well you move without the burden of armour.” She says, finally bringing her eyes to meet yours. Heat pools in your core as her gaze moves down to your lips, trailing further and further down your body. The look in her was one of hunger, she hadn’t felt the touch of another in so long. She craved to feel you against her, to be able to express just how much she cares for you.

Moving closer to her, you lean towards her ear. “Well, why don’t you stop wondering and find out.” Your lips brush over her earlobes with each word. She moves back to bring her lips to yours, igniting a kiss of passion and desire. Her hand trails down your thigh, pulling it up over her lap for you to straddle her. Your hands cup her face as she darts her tongue out to run over your lower lip. Opening your mouth slightly, the kiss deepens. Your tongues work together to elicit soft moans from both of you. Her hands slowly caress down your sides before catching under the fabric of your black gambeson. Lifting it up over your head, the two of you gasp for air as your lips separate.

Her breath hitches, seeing the seven red scars covering the length of your torso. "You're beautiful." She whispers, softly trailing her fingers over the healed wounds. You grin as you flick your hair out of your face, bringing your lips to her neck. Drawing the sensitive skin into your mouth, your hand moves to her hair as a breathy moan escapes her.

Your hands unbutton her leather tunic as she reconnects your lips with hers. Slipping her tunic off her shoulders, she pushes you back, laying you down on the ground as she crawls over you. Grasping at your pants, she drags them off your legs as she peppers kisses over your scars. The sight of you in just your undergarments fueled a fire in Brienne's core, arousal dripping down her leg. Trailing her mouth down your stomach, she positions herself in between your legs. Flicking her eyes up your body, she makes eye contact with you. "Can I?" Her voice drips with desire as you nod, wrapping your hands in her hair.

"Please." Your voice comes out in a soft breath, a fire lighting in your core from anticipation and need. At this, Brienne's doubt slipped away, replaced by a carnal urge to claim you as hers. Her fingers hook under your panties, dragging them down your legs as she gently nips your inner thigh, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth. Moving her lips closer to your aching clit, she lets out a growl at the sight of your wet cunt, arousal dripping down your leg. Darting her tongue out to taste you, a soft moan escapes her before she sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches at the sensation, your fingers tightening their grip in her hair as her name falls off your lips. Her tongue is agonisingly slow over your clit as she watches your body react to every movement. Trailing her fingers over your entrance, your body arches as she pushes two fingers inside you, pressing firmly up against your sweet spot. A string of moans are elicited from your mouth as she increases the pace of her tongue, flicking it over your sensitive mound. Your grip tightens in her hair as she works you closer and closer to orgasm.

She loves the sight of you, such a dominant female with a wild spirit, a moaning mess beneath her. Mesmerised by the way your hips are grinding on her fingers, she increases her pace. Her nails dig into your inner thigh, leaving red scratch marks down your skin. The coil in your stomach tightens as she thrusts her fingers in and out of you at an ungodly pace as your legs begin to shake. “You’re mine, darling.” She growls, euphoria filling your veins as you let yourself succumb to pleasure. “I’m yours.” Your body twitches beneath you as Brienne’s name falls off your lips amongst a string of moans. Your chest rises heavily with each breath as she slows down her pace, dragging out your high. Trailing her lips up your body, she brings you into a passionate kiss as she allows you to taste yourself off her tongue.

Sitting up, she moves to straddle your lap as your fingers tighten in her hair, pulling it back to expose her neck. Gently trailing kisses down the sensitive skin, your free hand reaches down her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Lifting your knee up, you twist your hips and roll her onto her back. One hand up by her head, the other reaches down to play with her nipple as you bring your lips to hers. A soft moan is elicited from her as you run the top of your thumb over her now hardened nipple. Kissing down her jawline, you lower your mouth to her other nipple, sucking it into your mouth.

Brienne allows herself to give up control, pleasure coursing through her veins as your mouth trails further down her body, placing soft kisses on her lower abdomen as you position yourself between her legs. Lifting one of her legs over your shoulder, you gently nip at the sensitive skin on her inner thigh as you pull her panties down. With a slow, controlled movement of your tongue, you lick from her entrance up to her clit, collecting her arousal in your mouth. A small growl leaves your lips as you taste her. Bringing her lips to her exposed mound, you gently lay a kiss to it before sucking it into your mouth. Brienne’s back arches as her hand flies down to your hair, a smile pulling at your lips from her reaction. Circling her clit with your tongue, you tease her entrance with two fingers, feeling her arousal running down them.

A soft moan falls off her lips as you slowly slide your fingers inside her, not ready for the depth having her leg over your shoulder created. Her back arches as you feel your fingers hit her sweet spot, her breath hitching. Your eyes are unable to look away from her, fascinated by how her body moves with every flick of your tongue, every thrust of your fingers. Her moans are heaven for your ears, every beautiful sound her mouth makes only fuels you to keep going. You could stay an eternity between your knight’s legs.

You begin spelling out the word “mine” on her clit with your tongue. A soft gasp eliciting from Brienne’s lips as she realises what you’re writing, arousal dripping down her leg as you add a third finger inside her. A desperate whimper escaping her, her body begins to shake. Her grip in your hair tightens as her back arches, euphoria flooding over her. Your name falling off her lips is the most perfect sound you’ve heard in your life, a grin pulling at your lips as your tongue slows down its movements over her clit. Helping her ride out her high, you leave a trail of hickeys up her inner thigh, staining the sensitive skin with reds and purples.

Both of you breathing heavily, you bring your lips up to hers. Running your tongue over her lower lip, she moans as she tastes herself, a grin pulling at both of your lips. Her arms wrap around your waist, pulling your naked body flush against hers. “Now can I call you my lady?” She chuckles as you break the kiss, a grin plastered on your face. Giving her another quick kiss, you nod. “I suppose I’ll allow it.” You chuckle as she pulls you back closer to her body, enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers.

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[that-foul-legacy-lover]

When Childe’s Younger Sibling is Recovering from Surgery HCs

"TW for surgery mentiom:

Im not sure if brainrots or requests are open, but I recently (today) had gallbladder removal and it hurts like a son of a glitch. Would you perhaps give ideas of a older brother F.L/Childe comforting a reader that had that?

Forgot to mention: IM ALIVE! JUST VERY QUIET HERE RIGHT NOW."

Requested by @jayastronomicnova !

~ * ~ tumblr is being SO rude and refusing to process the actual ask for this post, so unfortunately i have to upload it like this!! i'm sorry for the inconvenience :((

also, i both made this a bit vague in description, so it's a more general surgery headcanon set!! and you're Childe's actual younger sibling because i thought it'd be fun!!! i'm very sorry if that's not what you wanted :(( still, i hope this helps you feel a bit better!!

~ * ~

When Childe's Younger Sibling is Recovering from Surgery HCs

Hurt/Comfort (Mostly Comfort)

Younger Sibling Reader

Older Brother Childe (Foul Legacy)

Warning for surgery mention, pain, nausea, stitches, bandages, medication (pills), allusions to sickness

~ * ~

-Sometimes you really REALLY hate having a physical body -Sure, it’s nice when it WORKS, but if one thing decides to meander out of order suddenly you’re in pain or your entire life is in danger -And you being someone who doesn’t really know when to draw the line between “it’s just a bad day” and “I should see a doctor” can spend a few weeks trying to deal with any problems on your own -Luckily, Snezhnaya is home to some of the finest doctors in Teyvat, and when you finally visit a clinic for a diagnosis they help you set up a date for surgery right away -Because apparently, you need surgery. Fantastic. You can only pray to the Tsaritsa that you and your family can cover the expenses -The operation itself goes fine, thanks to anesthesia, and in the literal blink of an eye you’re groggily looking around and being given pain medication -It’s AFTERWARDS that makes you turn right back around and curse the Archons and Celestia, because holy hell it’s a nightmare -You drag yourself home and up to your room and promptly collapse onto your bed, immediately regretting it because the action jostles a sharp pain in your gut that makes you feel like you’re being stabbed -With a heap of blankets and the pain medicine in reach, you curl up on your bed, wishing you could just fall asleep or disappear entirely -It’s like this that your next days are spent, hunched over on your mattress and wishing for the sweet release of empty dreams yet getting almost none. The times you get up are few and far between, immediately conquered by nausea and pain -You lose all sense of time, the only indications being the rising and setting of the sun and moon and the people who attempt to get you to eat something with varying success -How long you’ve been suffering only comes to light for you when a certain someone pays you a visit -Your big brother Ajax has been long overdue for a visit home- in fact, a few weeks ago before your medical issues started to arise, you’d been excitedly waiting for his arrival. But you’d received only a hastily-written letter, saying something about work taking a bit longer than he expected -You didn’t believe him, but your family did, despite your protests that the letter wasn’t even in Ajax’s handwriting and your subsequent irritation when they didn’t listen to you -To be honest, you’ve almost forgotten about the letter and your older brother due to your surgery and stress driving almost everything from your mind, but when you hear Teucer distantly shout in joy you vaguely wonder if Ajax is home -For the next few hours you drift in and out of sleep, the pain in your body rousing you whenever you’re just about to drift off, like usual -Your painkillers are on the nightstand, but when the sun goes down and the house is mostly quiet you can’t do anything but huddle under your covers, trying to keep yourself warm as the bitter cold seeps in through openings between the windows -The door to your room slowly creaks open, although you don’t register it or the sound of heavy footsteps gingerly making their way to your bed -Only when a clawed hand rests itself gently on your shoulder do you jump in surprise and open your bleary eyes to see who’s there -Your brother, much taller and fluffier than you remember, stares back at you, singular eye unblinking and aglow. He rumbles in concern, lifting your chin with a finger and tilting your head to the side for a closer look at your downtrodden expression -You’re almost curious as to why none of your family put up a fuss or fight when they saw him like this, with horns and talons and shining like the moon, as well as how you somehow recognized him on your own -Almost. But not quite. You’re too tired to be curious -A small pill drops into your hand, and you blink before glancing up. Ajax watches you expectantly, settling on the edge of your bed as you stare at the painkiller, before gulping it down dry -It’s as bitter as it always is, and you stick out your tongue and are met with a deep, growly chuckle from your brother -You’re about to smile back and say how happy you are that he’s home when pain shoots through your abdomen and you wince, doubling over with a groan -Ajax lets out a low whine of worry, the best “are you okay?” expression he can manage in this form, inching closer to you -He reaches out and, with an odd gentleness for the sharp angles of his current self, lifts you into his arms and settles you on his lap -You feel his talons press and trail up and down your back, massaging the cramped muscles from laying in the same position for so long -His other hand rests on your torso, where your stitches and bandages are; unmoving, the hand warms your skin with quiet reassurance -You press your face into the curious ruff of fur around his shoulders, burying your hands into the soft fluff as a stabilization of sorts -Your hands clench into small fists in the fur, clinging to the comfort of your effortlessly strong and fearless big brother -The hand on your torso lifts to your face, carefully brushing and flicking tangled hair out of the way and smoothing it down again. The little game he plays with your soft locks makes you laugh, weakly, and you hear him purr in satisfaction when you do -Ajax moves to massaging your temples with his claws, similar to how he kneads and presses at your back -With a sudden, swift swoop, he wraps his glimmering cape around you for warmth, and to your hazy eyes it almost looks like a pair of wings -Your eyes begin to drift shut as the pain of your stitches fades into the background, replaced by soft, humming croons in a familiar tune -It’s a melody Ajax always sings when he comes home, something about rain and narwhals and ice-colored stars, always certain to put you right to sleep -You snuggle closer, your body small and curled against his armored one, and whisper for him to stay, so you can say a proper hello to him tomorrow -In the dark you feel him nod, and the nod seems to set everything right, here in your brother’s arms

[writing-wh0re]

October 7th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Daddy

Au!Fred x Reader.

Words: 2,524.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Performing Oral, Male Performing Oral, Dirty Talk, Daddy Dom Fred, Praise. Best-friends Dad (Age Gap) 

*Nova is my own character. 

The moment Nova had suggested that I tag along with her for the summer and stay at her dad’s lake house, I couldn’t refuse. I was so excited. 

One, the lake house is in the prime location, bars are within walking distance, the pool is immaculate and the view was something else all together. 

Two, Nova’s dad, Fred. 

God Fred was the definition of Dilf. 

The first time I noticed my school girl crush was Nova’s 21st birthday. Fred had booked out a private Yacht and invited most of the people from our classes. It was sweet and probably the happiest I have seen Nova. However, I spent most of the night at the top of the Yacht drinking and joking around with Fred, both of us wanting to escape the crowd. That night solidified my crush for the older man, especially the second his fingertips brushed my knee which caused my skin to erupt with goosebumps and my breath to catch in my throat. I could have sworn Fred’s eyes lingered on my cleavage a little too much that night but I’m sure it was the alcohol swirling through my veins. 

“Ready?” Nova’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her suitcase behind her. 

“Definitely.” I confirm zipping my case and following Nova out of our dorm, excitement and nervous bubbling inside of me. 

\\//

Nova pushes the large dark wood door open, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling the air, light chatter bouncing off the walls. 

“I think my uncle is here.” Nova mumbles, leaving her suitcase on the ground and walking through the house. I follow her lead, ditching my suitcase and taking in the beautifully styled home. 

“Hey Dad, uncle George.” 

I almost faint on the spot, there’s Fred and a literal duplicate of Fred.

“Uh Dad you remember Y/n, George this is my best friend Y/n.” I smile weakly at the pair as George smiles at me.

“Good to see you again Y/n.” Fred smiles, I notice George side eye Fred quickly raising his eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink. Fred simply smirks, nodding softly, his eyes lingering on me before darting over to Nova. I frown my eyebrows together trying to understand what they are silently talking about, surely not me. I shake the thought from my head, of course two grown men haven't been talking about me, especially not my best friend's dad. Get it together Y/n. 

“So, what do you have planned for this summer?” George asks, his eyes flicking between Nova and I. 

“Definitely hitting the bars, soaking in the sun and maybe finding a man or two.” Nova winks as she hands me a glass of wine. 

“A man?” Fred questions. 

“Or two?” George questions both of them laughing at each other. 

“It's summer, why not have a little fun?” The second the words leave my lips I feel a blush creep upon my face, Fred and George both chuckling in response. 

“Maybe we should go have some summer fun Freddie.” George smirks causing Nova to gag slightly. 

“Right, that's our cue to leave.” Nova mumbles quickly downing the rest of her glass and walking back inside the house. 

“Uh.” The heat returns to my body as I get left alone with Fred and George. I leave my glass on the table in front of me and walk inside the house, once inside I turn back to take in Fred’s appearance one last time. My breath hitches in my throat and butterflies erupt inside of me as our eyes lock together. I hurriedly look away and rush through the house to get ready for the night with Nova. 

Coincidence. Just a simple Coincidence. 

\\// 

Nova and I had been dancing for hours, the music thumped through my chest, the alcohol flowed through my veins and my mind kept wandering to Fred, curious as to what he is doing right now. 

“Hey, this is Tom and we’re getting out of here.” Nova squeals excitedly, pulling a blonde guy behind her before I even have a chance to respond. 

“Seriously?” I yell, my voice falling silent over the sound of the music. I follow behind the pair, hoping to catch Nova and ask if she is seriously leaving me in the club right now. 

“Hey!” 

Nova’s body disappears into a cab before she has the chance to hear me. 

“Fuck.” I huff, the cool breeze hitting my exposed skin. Only a three minute walk back to the house, I tell myself. I quickly check the time, 11:45pm, Fred will definitely be asleep and won’t question Nova’s hodiny act. 

The walk back was quick and almost claiming. The sound of the wind blowing in the trees, owls hooting and the crispy moon light shining along the streets. 

The walk back to the house had definitely sobered me up, now fully aware of how loud my heels are against the pavement. I decide to slip my heels off before walking on the wooden deck, not wanting to disturb Fred. I search through my bag, trying to find the house key but coming up empty handed. 

“Fuck you Nova.” I mumble, slightly lifting up the doormat with my foot in hopes of a spare key, but no luck. Right as I’m about to walk around the back and sleep on the deck chairs the door pulls open. 

Fred and George both laugh and continue their conversation before their eyes land on me. 

“Oh Y/n, hello again.” George smiles. 

“Um, hey.” I smile back. My eyes quickly flick to Fred his toned chest on full display and loose grey sweatpants hanging on his hips. 

“Everything okay? You’re missing Nova.” Fred asks, slight worry filling his voice. 

“Yeah no, everything is fine, Nova is making her summer fun with Tom?” I question wondering if I should even be telling her father and uncle this. 

The twins laugh at my question, both shaking their heads. 

“Well I will see you later, nice meeting you y/n.” George smiles, “Enjoy your summer Freddie.” George’s eyes look me up and down before he walks past me, the sound of his car unlocking in the near distance. 

“Excuse me.” I mumble pushing past Fred as he stands in the doorway, I quickly drop my shoes with the others at the door, wanting to rush away to my room. 

“So why aren’t you out making your summer fun with a guy?” 

I feel my mouth go dry at his question, how do I answer this without saying it’s because of you dumbass. 

“The guy’s I typically go for aren’t hanging around at clubs.” Fred raises his eyebrow, his eyes flicking from my lips and back to my eyes. 

“What kind of guys do you go for?” 

Now's your chance, say it's him, if it goes badly act super drunk and blame it on that. I take a deep breath after listening to the internal battle with myself. 

“Guys that choose to stay in with their brothers and drink.” The moment the sentence flows through the air, my cheeks heat up, both with nerves and regret. 

Fred smirks, licking his lips before walking towards me. I back away from him slightly before my back hits the wall. 

“Is that so? Darling, I'm old enough to be your father” 

“That has never been an issue for me… daddy.” 

Fred groans before locking his lips with mine. I moan into the kiss, the sweet taste of cinnamon whiskey on his tongue as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands roam my body, falling to the middle of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. My fingers lace in his hair, tugging on the strands. 

“This is wrong.” I pant, pulling away from the kiss as our chests rise and fall. 

“Say the word and I stop.” Fred’s eyes search mine for any hesitation before I close the gap between us. His hands fall to my thighs picking me up in one swift motion and slowly walking us to his bedroom. My red dress hikes up my thighs with every step closer to the room, my black lace panties on full display. I pull my lips away from Fred’s kissing down his neck before discovering his sweet spot. His fingers grip my ass tight, moans falling from his lips. 

A surprised squeal escapes me as Fred drops me on his bed, his eyes lingering on my body. Before he has the chance to ask me I pull my dress from my skin, leaving me in just my panties, thankful that my dress didn’t require a bra. 

“Jesus.” Fred steps back, taking in the sight of me half naked and under him, egar for him. 

“Daddy please.” The nickname causes his eyes to roll back slightly, a low sigh passing his lips as he cages me in against the mattress, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck towards my boobs. I arch my back causing my nipple to press against his tongue more, his teeth pulling at the hardening nub. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling as the slight vibration rumbles against my skin. 

“I’ve barely touched you babygirl, look at you, so needy and eager for me.” 

“Only you.” 

My words pull yet another chuckle from his lips. Fred’s fingertips trail along the waistband on my panties causing a shiver to run down my spine. He leans down over my body, his warm breath fanning against my neck. 

“Get on your knees.” Within a second I am on my knees looking up at him. “Fuck, such a good girl.” 

I softly nod in response, my hand palming his evident erection through his sweatpants. Fred hisses at the contact before ridding himself of the clothing. 

A whimper escapes me at the sight of his hard cock. Longer and thicker than I had imagined but everything I need. 

Without being asked I take his dick in my hand, pumping up and down as I lightly swirl my tongue around the head. 

“Yes baby.” Fred’s fingers loop in my hair, holding it out of the way to ensure he gets the perfect view of his cock disappearing into my throat. I bob my head up and down his length, my tongue swirling and my cheeks hollowing out. Fred’s cock leaves my lips with a pop, he grabs his dick and slowly slides it up and down my tongue moaning at the sight. 

“Fucking perfect.” My eyes roll back at the praise, arousal leaking down my thighs and my mind hoping this isn’t some twisted dream. 

Fred pulls me up by my arms, his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His fingertips brush against my clothed pussy before slipping past the fabric and rubbing my swollen clit. I hiss at the contact, Fred moans at the feeling of my wetness. 

“Daddy’s girl likes sucking dick huh?” 

“Makes her little pussy drip?” 

“Does my princess touch herself to the thought of me?” 

I meekly nod in response not wanting the pleasure to stop, however Fred stops his movements causing me to whimper. 

“Daddy asked you a question darling, do you think of me when you cum?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head before he pushes me back onto the bed, ripping the panties from my skin. His tongue presses flat against my clit as I sigh with pleasure and surprise. 

“Daddy.” 

Fred hums against my pussy, swirling his tongue in a figure eight motion as my fingers grip the bed sheets. Fred continues to lap at my cunt, savouring the taste before his hands find mine, lacing our fingers together. 

“Fuck.” I moan as I look down at Fred, his eyes catching mine while swiping his tongue side to side. 

“Yes, fuck, oh I’m close.” I regret saying the words the second Fred pulls away from me. 

“No baby, you’re cumming on my cock.” Butterflies fill my stomach at his words, truly hoping this is really happening. 

Fred lays down next to me on the bed, grabbing my hips and guiding me to straddle his waist. His hand falls behind my neck, our lips meet in a brief kiss before being broken by my moans. Fred slides inside of me, stretching my walls perfectly. 

“So big daddy.” My fingernails drag down his chest earning a hiss from his lips. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size I rock my hips back and forth, keeping my hands placed on his chest for balance. 

“Beautiful.” Blush fills my cheeks at his praise, his soft hands rubbing up and down my sides. I keep my rhythm, every now and again swirling my hips for a different sensation, one that pulls the most delicious moans from his lips. Fred’s hands grip my ass, spanking the supple skin as I cry out in pleasure. 

“Is this what you like, baby? Taking control and fucking daddy?” I hum in response as my eyes flutter closed basking in the feeling of his cock hitting my g-spot. Fred’s hands move to my back, flipping us over as I gasp. 

“Only I can make you feel this good.” 

My lips part and my eyes squeeze shut at the new angle. Fred’s resting on his knees with my legs against his chest, ankles resting on his shoulders, his hands groping my boobs. 

“Look at you squirming on my cock, ruining you for any other man.” 

“God daddy yes.” 

“You’re mine.” 

“Only yours daddy.” 

Fred grunts at my response, his pace picking up as he starts to rub fast circles on my clit. 

“Yes!” I cry out, my pussy clenching around him. “Just like that.” 

“You cum when I say.” 

I huff, digging my nails into the comforter as I scream and cry out. 

“Daddy please, please let me cum.” 

Fred grunts, licking his lips.

“Mmm hold it for me.” 

My eyes roll back as my back arches off the mattress. 

“Daddy, please!” 

I feel Fred’s cock twitch inside of me, a deep moan filling the air. 

“Fucking cum for me Y/n.” 

A shiver runs down my spine, my body tenses as Fred’s name passes my lips. My mind feels foggy and my vision blurs. Fred grips my legs, his hips faltering as his hot release fills me. 

Fred pulls out of me, both of us sighing, our chests rising and falling, sweat glistening on our bodies. 

“Thank you.” I blurt out, feeling tiredness wash over me. 

“No need to thank me Darling.” He places a soft kiss to my lips as I feel my eyelids get heavier, not even bothering to move as sleep envelops me. 

\\//

I wake up the next morning to the sun shining through the blinds. Instantly everything floods back from last night. I quickly lift up the bedsheets, my naked body confirming that it wasn’t just a dream. 

“Morning.” Fred mumbles, his morning voice sending wetness straight to my pussy. 

“Morning.” I whisper a goofy smile on my face. Fred pulls me into him, his nose brushing against mine before our lips meet in the middle. 

“Hey dad, have you see- WHAT THE FUCK?”

\\// 

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[turtle-steverogers]

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

-

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

-

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

-

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

-

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

-

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

-

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

-

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

-

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

-

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

[notlycheesden]

Rearview Mirror

Heyyo ✌🏻 this is my first written piece for Endeavor , as a gift for my friend @kogo for the evil exchange. so I hope you like it my dude 👍🏻. A piece I will def be coming back to write more for sure.

⤍ Endeavour x reader

⤍ 3.6k

⤍ TW.incest, TW.dubcon, TW.father/daughter

⤍ Summary:

Enji was trying to be a better father, a better man.

And you never lied to him.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

Everything was always red between the both of you.

It's past four when his phone rings.

He was awake. even on his day off -those becoming more frequent now- years of routine were still strong. His body alert and aware way before the break of dawn for hours of training before patrol, and later to go to his own agency, the literal empire that wouldn't run itself.

He was pretending to be asleep, unmovable laying on his stomach, face buried on his pillow. Deep breaths in and out in a rhythmic pattern. His massive frame takes most of his king-size bed that for more than a decade he slept right in the middle, no reason to let the right side of it unoccupied.

It was almost meditation-like. There in the quiet and calm of his bedroom between his sheets, he could organize -or at least try- his thoughts. A time in his day where he gets lost in self-reflection. The things he would have to do that day, what work in his agency he would have to supervise, and even stubbornly he would do a little steaming out, analyzing his “actions and emotions”, passing commentary from the resident agency therapist threw his way.

“A strict but good man, if not for some, mishaps, from your intense and fiery nature.” was his professional opinion about Endeavor. The man really lived to throw things his way.

It used to help calm his turbulent mind. But lately there was nothing in his head but turmoil.

It was something he would do until 6 AM, when he couldn't take any longer and had to get up, body and muscles aching from staying in bed for too long, the sun already rising on the horizon, painting the sky with yellows, pinks, and reds.

The silence of his room is broken by the ring of his phone. Instead of the familiar tone of the morning alarm, it was his normal ringtone. When he opens his eyes, the room was not bright as he expects, still shrouded by darkness. Endeavor sits on his bed at once, alert.

Getting it from the bedside table quickly, his posture falls when he catches the time and the already saved contact of who was calling him: Natsuo.

Enji picks up, but before he could question the call, the time, or even say hello, Natsuo speaks, voice grave and serious.

“You need to pick up your daughter right now.”

It’s a punch to the gut. One that makes all the air from his lungs escape at once. In a second, he feels like he is thrown into a rollercoaster.

The only thing he can muster in his shock is a guttural and deep bark of incredulity “What?”

Natsuo cuts Enji off immediately. His tone triggering him into snapping, memories hushing in -not the time for this- “She just called. She was a crying mess, begged me to come for her but I live two hours away-Shouto is on patrol and not picking up and Fuyumi is with her fiance's family at the onsen-”

Enji inhales sharply. Dread takes hold of him while he can't even see straight with the sudden rush of adrenaline, sirens blasting off in his head.

“She was supposed to be with fuyumi at the onsen.” His voice echoes back at him in his bedroom walls, he doesn't realize he is shouting.

“Look, this is really not the time. She has no money and her phone’s dead. I was able to get her to tell me an address before the call dropped. she's all alone there. Are you gonna pick her up?”

Natsuo calms his own breaths now after snapping and shouting back, and he can hear shuffling noises on his father’s side of the line. The older man was up in a second, not really seeing anything, rushing through his stuff picking his keys and wallet. He hates the way his father could make him snap so easily.

Enji was completely distraught.“She said she was going to be with fuyumi…” He mutters under his breath while running through the corridors, even forgetting the phone by his ear, his son still on the line.

But Natsuo hates even more the blatant difference in the way his father treated all of them and you in comparison. Always. Like he could fix his mistakes. Hide his sins.

“Well. Think your little princess lied to you old man.”

Enji didn't even register the venom in his son's words, nor when he hangs up on him.

He’s out of the house in a blink. He tries not to rip the door out of its hinges on his way out.

——

He drives fast, almost no other car in the streets making it easier to speed up in his nervous state. The GPS voice droning about the directions, a forty-minute drive that he would make in twenty.

you said you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.

You lied to him.

Enji’s heart hammers in his chest and his flames burst multiple times on his face out of control. His grip on the wheel tightens to ground his shaking hands, his jaw set with such force that he could feel a headache already forming.

Thoughts were flying through his mind a mile a second. Where are you? What happened to you? Who were you with? Were you safe? Why were you crying?

Why did you lie to him?

It was like his heart was being squeezed by dread and being broken at the same time.

You were his youngest. After he realized what he did to his children as a father, he tried his best to do better; connect, communicate, but he was emotionally and socially stunted -Thanks doc.- and by the time he tried to reach out, it was just a little too late.

Fuyumi was the pillar of the household, replacing their mother too much young and having to fit in a mould not meant to be hers, barely holding the treads of the family and house together. Natsuo was out of the front door as soon as he finished high school and got into med school, choosing to live in the dorms and work part-time rather than stay at the manor. Shoto was another history in itself.

And there was you, a couple of years younger than your now up-in-the-ranks pro hero brother, at the time just a pipsqueak. Too young to remember Rei, remember the worst of Endeavor.

And when he tried to connect, you were there. As if just waiting. Wanting your father to look at you. Frail and innocent and just in want of care, of attention, of love. You welcomed him into your life with open arms and heart.

Enji did try to make it right by you. And for some time things were progressing, even his other children were starting to turn their heads around his direction.

Until Touya’s incident.

The media cracked down on him and his family with a vengeance, almost nothing was left unturned or whole.

Natsuo was the first to cut ties. Shouto threw himself into his hero work, completely closing himself off. Even Fuyumi decided that she was done, took the next step, and went to live with her now fiance, completely ignoring whatever Enji tried to shout about costumes or honor.

Then it was just the two of you.

He tried to be a good father.

He was a quiet man in his private life, strict and with a violent nature, but he reached out for outside help to make it right. An older and trustworthy housekeeper to not chain his daughter down at the manor, guidance from therapist to help him become a better father, a better man, anything to do right this time.

Call it atonement, call it his redemption, call it hypocrisy, he didn't care.

He only cares that at the end of the day, you were there at his side, happy.

This morning he saw the note on the fridge.

Going to onee-san family trip,

Be back on Sunday.

You never had lied to him before.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

——-

The music blasting through the night tipped him off even before his car's GPS tells him he arrived at the destined location.

He parks way down the street and assesses the place inside the darkness of his car.

Enji’s way out of the city now and inside the industrial district, the building seems old and falling to pieces, people are lingering all around the street, but it’s thicker there. At surface level the building was empty, but the music was definitely coming from there.

He dreads the worst.

Getting out of the car still in his sleeping sweatpants and tee, he throws the hood of his workout jacket over his hair to conceal himself. He’s going for discretion, get you and get out, no need to make this a public affair. Not with this, not with you, not right now.

He searches around but still can't find you. Half an hour has passed since Natsuo called. He's in a frenzy. Endeavor forces himself to calm down and think.

His son didn't mention music. He looks far into the street and he can see the entrance of an alleyway, he hushes there.

His stomach tied in knots when he sees in the dark your small figure crouched down beside a dumpster. your shoulders ate shaking with silent sobs holding your dead phone for dear life, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were, head down.

Enji barks your name and your head snaps to the entrance of the alleyway in shock, your body trembling and fat tears running down your smudged makeup.

“Daddy!”

In a second you were up and running, throwing your body against him and hugging his middle. He doesn't know what to do first, but he opts for following his instincts. Enji hugs your shaking form, shushing you lightly while petting your head. He doesn't know if it's him or you who's shaking more.

He doesn't remember how, but he manages to walk both of you to his car without being seen, his hulking form covering your smaller one.

He's shaking. When Enji puts you in the passenger seat and the car lights momentarily shine everything in an amber glow, rage fills his chest. You are in a dress he has never seen before, he knows it was not yours. He would never allow a thing like that or let you use it in public. Your makeup that before being ruined by your smudging and crying, was heavy and meant to seduce.

He closes your door and gets in the car.

He's shaking.

——

Enji can only control himself enough to not rip the wheel or step on the gas right through the flooring for only three blocks. and thank the gods again for the hour, because he could not quite see the streets in front of him. If they weren't deserted while he drives double the velocity permitted, it would be likely that the fears of his family being again under the cruel and ravenous judgment of the public eye would become reality, although for a completely different reason from the ones he has been dreading until this point.

When he reaches the fourth block, he makes a sudden stop, turning and parking harshly with the front of the car almost all the way over the curb, the tires skidding loudly into the quiet of the night and scaring you out of your still shell shock state. your small sniffles stop when you let out a muted yelp of surprise.

Enji quickly pries his hands that have a death grip on the wheel and smash the roof of the car to turn the lights on in such a way that later he’s impressed he didn't send the entire ceiling flying. As fast as he did that and the darkness of the car is now cast in warm gold, his hands are on your small frame like a striking snake, a big calloused one gripping your face between meaty fingers, squeezing your wet cheeks and the other one in your far shoulder, turning you in his direction with a barely controlled yank. Enji wasn't sure if the shaking was coming from your body or his.

He's frantic, hectic, eyes going up and down your body trying to find anything, something. “Are you hurt? tell me,” His voice is harsh, too loud into the small space. You jump startled, but his grip locks you in place, he doesn't notice.

Why did you come to a party? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you do this?

“Are you?? Someone did something? Gave you something, touched you?” He barks again louder, bending and twisting to be in your face now, eyes scanning all over your body. But again and again, they would be drawn to the too short hem of your dress, from your ruined tearstained makeup and down again to your soft and creamy thighs, trying to find a mark, a scratch, a stain. Anything, something.

“Fucking answer me!”

“Dad please!”

Enji lets you go as if you just slap him in the face. He blinks.

You are shaking. Looking at him in fear, silent tears running down your cheeks. Your jaw is set as you try to hold your whimpers back, his fingers make red marks bloom on your face and arm under his digits.

Memories come back rushing. Phantoms scourging in blue flames.

He releases you as if you burn him.

His hands hover in place, and he doesn't dare to move, still crowding you. Both of you staring at each other in fear and confusion as if something would break.

He slowly backs away, and you keep still. He turns the light off and stares at the road.

Enji couldn't take more things between both of you breaking.

He takes a deep breath. Starts the car again to drive back home.

——

Friday nights are your nights.

Enji doesn't really remember when it started. But he knows it wasn't something that was spoken of or agreed beforehand. It happened once, then twice, then his job got in the way, then thrice, and when he noticed, it was a routine between him and his daughter.

Like most things between both of you, it just… fell into place. And it just felt right.

Endeavor would arrange his schedule in a way so that his Fridays would be empty, any emergency at the agency could be easily solved that way, patrols and hero work set on the weekends so he could come home at a sensible hour, just by dinnertime.

He would be just taking his blazer and shoes off at the entrance when Enji would hear your running steps from the kitchen, your pinky apron-clad figure hushing to meet him with a bright smile, eyes shining.

you would get a hold of his tie and gently tug down for him to bend at the waist to your level, your arms were thrown in a warm hug on his neck and a sweet and lengthy kiss on his cheek after he steps through the threshold. you would giggle against his face from the tickles you got from his stubble while warmly welcoming him, the food still hot on the table.

It was one of your multiple habits together, just the two of you. And it felt right.

It was routine. And it felt so domestic, warm and right.

Friday nights are your nights. After he gets home, you guys have dinner, something you cooked by yourself, sending the older housemaid away earlier.

Sometimes it is a new recipe, sometimes something you already tried before. But it's always good, and when Enji compliments your cooking skills and how much he enjoys it, your cheeks blush red. You daintly try to hide your smile as you thank him, bashful behavior so alluring even when he knows is just a little act, playing coy. There's warmth in his chest.

The lights in the dining room cast everything in this whimsical warm glow and maybe it's the beer, but Enji thinks it reflects lovely on you and the color of your blouse today. He says so.

“Looking so pretty tonight, princess.”

The red on your cheeks grow stronger. From across the table, he hides his smirk behind his can at seeing how you fidget in place, trying to contain your coquettish smile while biting your plush bottom lip. The warmth spreads lower.

Only later it dawns on him. Enji was flirting with his own daughter. And it was a habit.

It was routine.

Enji is sprawled on the big sofa comfortably, already showered and in his sleeping clothes after dinner, the second movie of the night halfway through.

It was a period drama and he tries to pay attention to the main points for your quiz about it the next day, but he was mostly checked out, lulled by the comfy dark of the living room, the buzz of the beers he drank, sleep and your warm body draped over his.

He doesn't really remember when it started, but he knows it was gradually. One day in your Friday movie nights, he notices you were glued on his side, and on the next one you had an arm draped over his torso while both of you were laying on the reclining couch, and since then, you were always over him, arms and thighs and breasts glued to his body, but most of the time cutely laying on his chest.

That night was no different. You are laying on his broad chest, using your arm as leverage to look down and back at the tv in front of the sofa, and for you to not slip he has one big palm over your waist and the other in a secure hook on the slope of your knee, propping your bent leg higher across his stomach. Your breathing matches his, and if not by your little grunts and noises of surprise, the redhead would have thought you had fallen asleep on him. It would not be the first time.

The clothes you are using are small and had hiked up a long time ago, a loose tank top and booty shorts, both of them old and worn out, sleep clothes.

From where he was, he could see all your body over his. From the crown of your head to the slope of your waist as it dipped under his scarred hand. His gaze follows the curve of your thigh draped over his waist to the fat of your ass pointing high. He muses in a daze that he could see the inside of your tank top, the soft swell of a breast making an appearance. He leers.

You move a little, and this time, he can make out the shade of a nipple. It’s pert and small and pretty, and blood rushes to his clothed cock, but is late, and he's tired and buzzed out. It doesn’t connect in his mind.

You move. you are getting yourself higher on his chest. Enji feels small hands wandering under his shirt. Presses of lips on his neck. Wet kisses on the stubble on his jaw.

The soft touches pull him deeper. There's a young and wanton body over his. It’s been so long since he truly touched another, let himself be touched. Smooth lips and an uncertain tongue were kissing him, and he wants to devour them. It’s hot and burns and makes his insides coil, his cock hard and heavy inside his pants. A warm slit humping it.

Could have been the tiredness, the beer, the comfort of the situation, anything really.

Enji kisses you like a man starved. Head moving and ravaging your much smaller mouth with his tongue. His hand yanks your tank top down exposing your breasts, and now he’s pulling and pinching the sweet nipples in a way that makes you moan against his tongue with a voice he couldn't recognize.

His other hand was down at your ass, guiding your movements back and forth on his erection with vigor, the friction against your slit makes you weak, but he keeps you moving, his calloused hand encompassing most of your behind. At each needy thrust his fingers would slide down between the cleft of your ass more and more.

His meaty fingers push the bottons of your shorts aside with a flick of his wrist, and now he's touching directly your puffy lips that are messy and wet all over. Enji growls in your mouth as you moan louder when he starts playing with your pussy, a pitched whine as he flicks your clit up and down, a strong hold on your breast.

A loud bang from the TV is what snaps him back to reality.

It was his daughter.

His daughter was over him. It was his daughter that was humping his cock, that he was sucking her small tongue and tweaking her nipples until he made her squeal.

He jumps to his feet and throws you across the couch.

Different from him, you look wide awake. Flushed face and startled eyes stares up at him, exposed breasts still heaving. Nipples rosy and hard. Between your legs, a glistening trail of where his fingers dragged when he ripped them off of you. Your shorts are drenched.

There's a moment of silence.

Enji snaps. He sprints to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room.

He locks his door, drops to the floor, and whips his hard and heavy cock out. in three pumps, thick ropes of cum cover his hand and clothed middle.

Taking big gulps of air trying to calm his breathing, his eyes glancing everywhere in a panic state, he looks down, and spot the wet patch on his clothed thigh. Yours juices that leaked on him. Its still in his other hand, fingers wet.

Enji wants to cry.

He tried to be a good father.

He ruined it again.

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger - The Finale

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst, not intended to be a historical au. 

Word Count: 28k

Warnings: depictions of violence, death, blood, choking, mentions of battle, heavy angst (happy endings only), LONGING, explicit language, mentions of grief, mentions of loss, mentions of insecurity, explicit smut: scratching, biting, lovebites, unprotected sex. 

A/N: welp :( This is the end for now folks. I can’t believe I finally finished a series on this freakin’ blog lol. I am so incredibly grateful for your patience. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you do, I would love to hear from you. Whilst this is the end of the series, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote drabbles for it in the future so, if there is anything you’d like to see more of, please let me know :D

A few thank you notes to my sisters from across the globe @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​, the two of you are so important to me and, I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love you lots. 

To @kithtaehyung @missgeniality​ @noelleydances​ thank you for always hyping me up and, being willing to chat with silly ol me. You’re all amazing and I LOVE YOU ALOT.

To @gldnrecs LISTEN IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW, LAY. I am so thankful you and, your willingness to scream with me in my dms. I’m so honored to know you and, I hope you know that I am always here if you need anything. ALSO HAPPY COLLEGE GRADUATION YOU FREAKING GENIUS. Please consider this (and Hobi’s conclusion specifically) my graduation present. Love you. 

Love letter to Rachel: It’s very important for anyone who comes across this story to know that I would have NEVER EVER EVER be able to conjure up this universe without the help of my bestie @bulletproofbirdy​. My friend, you are a genius and, it has truly been such an honor designing this world with you. I am so grateful that I’ve been able to create something with someone as amazing as you but, ON TOP OF IT??? We became so close that we literally talk every single day. I don’t know what to say without being the mushiest person ever but, I just want to thank you for being you. Without your love, your support and your BIG BRAIN, I would have never finished this series. I hope it lives up to all of your expectations. I love you. 

The clouds hung in the air with a heaviness that was almost palpable. Storm season was looming over the horizon and, although you’re aware that the rain is more than overdue, you still feel a sense of doom clinging to your subconscious. This time of year, arrives like clockwork and your village is well-equipped to deal with all the rainfall, the thunder, the lightening...

But there was always a chance that the river would flood and thus there was always a chance for tragedy to strike; a chance for everything you’ve ever known to be swallowed whole. You know you can’t stop a flood. The water operates on its own axis, untethered by human convenience. It terrifies you yes but, you’re fascinated none the less.

With a deep sigh, you step away from the edge of the river. The soft bubbling of the water is intriguing you, eliciting a yearning within you to step inside just one last time. However, you know the bite of the water would be too much to handle on your bare feet and you really don’t want to catch a cold before the winter season has even started.

Turning around, the breath you are preparing to take gets lodged deep in the center of your throat. It’s Yoongi and he’s reaching out for you but the look of pain on his face alerts you that something is horribly wrong.

“Y/n...” He croaks, his eyes wide with fear as he reaches out to you and it’s then that you see the blood dripping from his fingers. Your eyes frantically travel down his figure before realizing the source of the blood.

A wound similar to that of a sword brandishes his lower stomach, staining his tunic and causing the bile in your stomach to swirl uncomfortably.

He’s hurt.

He’s hurt badly.

“Yoongi!” You cry to him, your heartbeat rising to a level that feels painful.

As you try to run to him however, he falls to his knees, the life sparking in his eyes one last time before he collapses.

The scream coming from your lips is unrecognizable but, thankfully it draws you upright in your bed, informing you that horrible scene you just witnessed, was only a dream.

You clutch your hand to your chest, breathing heavily, your eyes stinging as they well up with tears. Without thinking, you sob into the clasped hand over your lips, trying your best to calm down but the morbid images continue to assault your mind over and over.

The light streaming in through your window, informs you that the sun has risen. At least your nightmare had allowed you to sleep a full night before rudely interrupting. You swallow back another sob, forcing a deep breath through your nose while you remind yourself that Yoongi is ok.

But you can’t know that for sure, can you?

The small break in your logic is enough to make you rush out of bed and into your coat, not bothering to fix your appearance as you shove your feet into your shoes. Thankfully, your parents are still sleeping soundly in their beds when you bustle through the main room and towards the door.

You have to see for yourself; even a glimpse of him could loosen the grip that fear currently has on your mind. You take the back way to avoid the marketplace which already shows signs of coming to life. You would need to make it quick to avoid missing the morning crowd: that’s usually where most of your sale’s come from.

With everything in you, you hope that he’s already awake because if he isn’t, you’d just have to move on without the reassurance, which is what you should do anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to let it go.

Thankfully, Yoongi is awake and by the looks of it, he’s out with the new recruits, running drills in the grass right in front of their camp. You see Jungkook out there as well, assisting one of the men with his form as he brandishes a sword.

The sight floods your mind with images of your dream once again, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

He’s ok though, so regardless of the images, you feel content seeing him in good health. Logically, you know you need to go about your day and allow him to go about his but, as you move to turn back towards the village- he notices you.

At first, a smile passes over his lips almost involuntarily but, his keen observation skills notice something is array. You see him gesture to his men to continue before he starts making his way in your direction.

Embarrassment washes over you without any warning and you try and wave him off, reassuring him that everything is ok, but he ignores it and jogs over anyway.

“Good morning-” He murmurs, his hands reaching out for yours. As he laces his fingers between your own, he tilts his head, “Are you ok?”

Instinctively, you nod but when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out.

Glancing up towards his face, your eyes pass over the area your mind brandished with blood and, without thinking, you throw your arms around him.

Yoongi is a little taken aback but he reciprocates nonetheless, his arms encircling you and pressing you against his chest. You feel a sigh of relief leave your lips as you cling to his robe, breathing in the subtle scent of him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

The whisper of your voice sends an aching into his chest and although you don’t disclose exactly what happened, Yoongi trusts that you had a valid reason for checking on his well-being.

With a soft smile, he presses a kiss to your temple, “I feel a little more than ok now...” He confirms before pulling back to look into your eyes, “May I do my own wellness check?”

There is a playfulness to his tone that softens the hard exterior of your residual panic and you bite your bottom lip when you nod.

His expression grows pensive as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face from left to right, his own head following the motions whilst he narrows his eyes,

“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here...” He grins, his blonde hair rustling slightly with the pace of the wind, eyes alight with fondness, “Still beautiful- still curious, still driving me insane because, I don’t know what’s going through her head...”

A small bit of laughter leaves your lips as you slide your hand up his forearm before settling gently on his wrist. With your fingertips, you press lightly against the bone beneath his skin, relishing in any tangible part of him you can touch, “I had a nightmare about you.”

He purses his lips together, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “Did I turn into a tiger and try to eat you? My men have told me they had this dream quite a lot during training...”

Yoongi attempts to keep his tone playful but he looks slightly deflated now as he waits for your response.

With a small smile, you shake your head tightly. You take his hand away from your chin, lacing your fingers together, ensuring that the grip you have on him is tight.

“No. You were-”A sigh leaves your lips whilst you shake your head, “You were hurt.” You spare him the details, “I woke up and just started running over here to make sure you were ok...it’s a bit silly now that I’m thinking of it.”

Yoongi can’t help but smile at you, his heart flourishing with the promise new romance often makes. He is saddened that you were worried on his account but, he would be lying if he said that this wasn’t endearing.

Ok- so perhaps it was extremely endearing.

“And if I wasn’t ok?” He wraps his arms around you, “Would you have come to my rescue?”

The smirk on his lips makes him all the more handsome and the feeling of his hands on the small of your back, makes your mind fuzzier than you’d care to admit.

“I would have-” Your voice grows higher with determination which causes Yoongi to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, “Why are you laughing???? Do you doubt my ability to hold my own on the battlefield?”

Yoongi’s laughter is choppy and warm, it soothes every sore spot of anxiety in your head in almost medicinal way.

You wish you could hear the sound more.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, still chuckling a bit, “In fact, I think you’d make a fine solider, ma'am. It’s just-” He glances down at your feet, “I don’t usually recommend wearing house slippers on the battlefield.”

The rolling of your eyes, brings Yoongi’s laughter back into the conversation.

“I would have managed just fine, thank you. You underestimate how powerful house slippers can be when brandished by the right person.”

He raises his brows, “Is that right? You wouldn’t need a sword then? Just your slippers?”

“Mhm.” You grumble with certainty, your fingers finding the ends of the hair hanging down from his pony tail, “My slippers and my wit are more powerful than any weapons you have here.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and slow in the base of his throat, “Now that sounds a bit more realistic- that mouth of yours would certainly be enough to guarantee your victory.”

As he’s replying, you’re gently tracing your fingertips up the length of his spine, admiring the strength clearly present in the muscles of his back.

“Hm-” You muse, stealing a look directly into his eyes, “I do hope to show you what my mouth is capable of someday-” Fluttering your lids innocently, you try to stop the smirk from taking over your mouth but, when Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, it takes over anyway.

Drawing a deep breath through his nose, you see his Adam’s apple bob in the center of his throat as his jaw fills up with tension. An audible swallow comes from him as his gaze slowly shifts from playful to perturbed.

“I find it ironic that you’ve chosen to threaten my wellbeing…whilst in the middle of a wellness check …”

You hum with a sense of false innocence, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“You’re dangerous” He murmurs, and you don’t miss the lust that coats his voice, “and unarmed...” A chuckle leaves his lips then as he presses his hands further into your skin, “and in your house slippers. I think you might be the biggest threat I’ve ever encountered.”

This makes you giggle now, dropping the salacious tone from your voice but, as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips- a voice brings your motions to a halt.

“General Tiger! Are you going to join your men for training this morning or were you planning on teaching them the art of seduction?”

It’s Jin and he’s stood outside their tent with his arms crossed. It’s then that you notice the lack of movement in his camp. Most of the recruits were sort of standing around awkwardly, many of them sneaking a glance at the two of you.

They look rather shocked at Jin’s choice of words, expecting Yoongi’s wrath but instead he merely smirks and leans in so his lips are at your ear before whispering, “We’ll talk about this later...”

His slightly menacing tone sends excitement rushing into your chest as you reluctantly pull away from him.

You salute him, “Yes sir.”

Yoongi forces a breath out of his nostrils, shaking his head at you, “You’re going to kill me one day.” He mutters to himself as he practically saunters back to his camp.

Yoongi is still smirking as he returns amidst his group of men, which Jin promptly comments on.

“Even after a decade with you, you still surprise me.” He notes, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“Third line, run those last two again! I need you sharper than that!” Yoongi calls out to his men, replacing his commanding expression with one full of nonchalance, “What are you referring to?”

Jin merely nods to the place the two of you had just been canoodling in, “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever see the day you took a partner- let alone the day that you’d publicly display affection for one. I wouldn’t necessarily think to question it but-”

Yoongi smirks, his eyes on the men in front of him but his focus clearly elsewhere, “And yet here you are...”

Jin rolls his eyes, “You can’t possibly blame me. I mean, you have a reputation that spans across the entirety of this land- does it concern you that they might mark you as vulnerable? From what I’ve gathered around the plaza, many of these villagers have already began to view you more casually.”

Yoongi’s smirk never fades as he calls out another command to the recruits, “If an enemy brands me as vulnerable- that is an error on their end, not on mine. In fact, I imagine it would bode quite well for me in the end. In regard to the villagers viewing me in a certain light- I can’t say I mind. Being feared was never something I asked for- you know this well. I would hope that more of the people I’ve served find me approachable.”

Jin doesn’t look convinced, knowing Yoongi far too well to believe that this was the end of his explanation, “There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have other motives for being so open about her.”

Yoongi tilts his head in thought, still not bothering to look at him, “I just don’t think it hurts to send a message, to anyone who might be observing us.”

Jin scoffs at his vagueness, attempting eye contact, “What message might that be?”

Finally, Yoongi turns towards him, the ghost of his previous smirk on his mouth, “That she is both protected and accounted for.”

With that, Yoongi draws his sword and heads back amongst the large crowd of men who, having finished their drills, were now eagerly awaiting his instruction.

Jin finds himself smirking as well now, undeniably intrigued by his general’s newfound attitude.

Your day in the marketplace moves slowly but, you find yourself largely unphased. With a mind full of budding romance and unresolved passion, it’s difficult to focus on the mundanity of everyday life.

“So- “ Jane begins, with a curious gaze as the two of you begin packing up your wares for the day, “I’ve seen you over at the military camp quite a lot these past few weeks...”

Unable to resist, you roll your eyes at her observation whilst lining your bags with your belongings, “I’ve been making bread for the battalion.”

You’ve learned over the years of working with Jane that keeping your responses to a minimum is a good idea, particularly when she decides to fish for information.

She has an impressive habit of picking your words apart in search of anything potentially scandalous.

“Oh? So I suppose canoodling with their leader is just a part of your services then?”

With wide eyes, your head whips in her direction, “What do you mean?”

Jane chuckles, smoothing her hands over the many fly aways atop her head, “The man clearly moves as though a burden has been lifted from him and, given the way he looks at you every time he visits our plaza- I have no choice but to assume that you were the one to do so.”

Most of the time, you’d shy away from her attempts to gossip but, you’re in a bit of a mood after your earlier encounter with Yoongi so, you decide to give her something to work with. “I am a healer Jane, if I can lift the burden of stress from my patrons- I won’t shy away from the opportunity.”

It’s her turn to widen her eyes now as she chokes back the small gasp coming from her throat, “Are you- are you saying it’s true then? You’ve laid with the Tiger?”

In an almost child-like manner, you giggle to yourself, glancing over at her briefly, “Is it still considered lying with him if I were pressed up against a tree?”

Jane’s face shines like a summer tomato, fit to burst, as she hustles closer to you, “My girl!” She whispers, “What has gotten into you?”

Brushing off leftover debris from your cart, you turn towards her, “Well according to your theory-” You wager, “I suppose it was the Tiger,” You smirk, “Wasn’t it?”

Jane smacks your arm now, causing your laughter to increase in volume, “Y/N! I am shocked by you-” She begins before her features seem to morph back into her previous curiosity, “and slightly impressed...I thought I was the only whore around here.”

“Jane!” You swat her arm now, shaking your head at her and trying your best not to laugh, “Aren’t you married?”

She shrugs, a smirk now present on her lips, “I am but-” She eyes her husband, who is obliviously untangling his fishing line across the plaza, “Morris and I are well-acquainted...” She allows the word to drop from her mouth like maple syrup, “with other members of the village.”

Did she just-

“Whatever satisfies your heart and mind, Jane. I’m glad you and Morris are active community members...” You wave her off, giggling once again and desperately hoping she won’t divulge any further details, “I’ll see you tomorrow...stay out of trouble.”

“Don’t give me advice you know I won’t take Y/N...” She chuckles loudly before calling her husband, “Oh Morris! Don’t forgot we have plans with the minister and his wife this evening!”

Morris’s eyes widen, seeming to understand the hidden implication behind her words as he puts his index finger to his lips in an effort to silence her.

With that disturbing piece of information, you rush out of the plaza before you learn anything else that has the capability of scaring you for life.

Before heading to Rachel’s with her steamed buns, you decide to stop at the library to check out the new arrivals from the Queen’s province. Every month or so, they send new copies of the latest publishing from the capital and, given how coveted they are- you always try to make it to the library on the day of delivery.

You’re able to snag a title on growing herbs in the wintertime before spotting someone you’ve been quite eager to see: Rachel.

You find her perusing the history section, completely unaware of her presence even as you slink up beside her, “Oh hi there- fancy meeting you here; how was meeting your new student?”

Jumping slightly at the unexpected interruption, she pivots towards you before her eyes narrow with accusation, “Oh NO you don’t!” She chides, though her red cheeks suggest something else, “I cannot believe you used my love of teaching to stage a romantic COUP in my own schoolroom!” She rants, eyes wild with disbelief.

Ignoring her completely, you lean against the shelf- admiring the scent of the parchment before repeating your question, “Uh huh yeah-” You dismiss, “How did it go?”

“It went...” She clears her throat, mindlessly running her fingers over the spines resting on the shelves, “very well- it went very well.”

Looking at her expectantly, you raise your brows, “Can you define ‘well’ for the courts please?”

Rachel’s eyes seem to light up all over again as they drift into her story, “I never thought a man like that could be interested in such a quiet life like mine...we hardly know each other but, there is such kindness and passion in his eyes...it feels like I’ve known him for years.”

Seeing your best friend so enamored warms your heart; if anyone deserved happiness in this world, it would be her.

She goes on to tell you everything that happened between the two of them, recounting the nervous glances, flushed cheeks and a romantic confession from Bambi with the biceps himself.

At her conclusion, you’re unable to help the excited squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her flushed frame, “I’m so happy for you!!!” Your scream comes out as an excited whisper, not wanting to feel the wrath of the librarian before you recall her earlier comment, “I think your quiet life and impeccable charm is what drew him in, in the first place...” You nudge her playfully, “You should have seen him talking about you- even I was swooning.”

She glows brighter, her figure emanating a bright carnation as she smoothly changes the subject; Rachel will only take the spotlight for so long, “Speaking of swooning, how is that ferocious general for yours, eh?”

Suddenly, you become very interested with a book on the shelf beside you, “Hm? What general? I don’t know a general Rachel, I’m just a silly little medicine woman.”

Her eyes widen as she smacks you playfully, “APOTHECARY!” She corrects and, the two of you giggle like schoolchildren as the librarian shoots daggers in your direction, “Don’t play coy with me- I spilled my guts about Jungkook. Fair is fair.”

Resigned, you let out a sigh and try to contain all of your emotions towards the subject, “Fiiiiine. The general simply explained that...” you look around to make sure no one is listening before lowering your voice, “that the reason we haven’t, hmmm what’s the word-” You pause once more, looking rather pensive, “defiled one another yet, is because he wants to wait until he has no more distractions. Which basically means we must wait until retirement, which of course also means- I am likely to go insane.”

Rachel snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth in an effort to conceal with laughter, “Wow he is serious about his intimacy.” She comments as she places a hand on your shoulder, “It’s been nice knowing you. I will tell the world your story.”

Slumping against her, you groan, feeling the full weight of your impatience, “If you’re wondering whether or not he still kisses me passionately beneath the moonlight despite the fact that he wants to wait- the answer is a resounding yes.” You explain, matter of factly, “it’s like he is wishing for the destruction of my sanity...”

Rachel links arms and giggles once again, “Look at us hm? Being pined for by heroes like in the poems that line these shelves...” She nods to them, “Who have thought?”

“I am slightly regretting all of my daydreams involving a knight in shining armor- who would have thought there would be so much yearning?”

She merely laughs again, shaking her head at you, “Have you two discussed his retirement?”

You nod, “His entire battalion is retiring this year. He said it should be around the wintertime, all of them have been in service for 10 years, including Jungkook.”

“That’s incredible: ten years of such a hard life. I couldn’t imagine. Do you know what they will do?”

“That means Jungkook joined the queen’s army before he was of age,” You observe, furrowing your brow, “I imagine they will retire with their chosen partners. Yoongi said that, that was his plan at least-” Your voice turns slightly coy at the end, “I don’t imagine they will have to work for the rest of their lives. My parents always talk about how well taken care of decorated soldiers are.”

Rachel’s face falls, “I’m just imagining Jungkook choosing this life at such a young age...the things those men have seen and, the rough life they have in service to the two queens...” She shakes her head, “I hope they all find peace and happiness, no matter what they choose.”

You nod, resting your head on her shoulder, “I think they have made their choices already- it all depends on if their partners reciprocate their advances.”

Rachel nudges you when she hears your teasing tone, “Quiet down you, we’re in the library...”

After much more giggling and, gushing over the men that have stolen your hearts, the two of you part ways.

Rachel has an evening to prepare for after all...

She rushes home after her time at the library. The books she gathered for her lesson on Monday are carefully placed on her bookshelf and, the ingredients for tonight’s meal are sprawled out on her countertop.

As she begins the long process of preparing for her night with Jungkook, she allows her mind to wander to a place she seldom visits: the past.

Like most people, she finds indulging in this subject to be quite the slippery slope. Today, she finds herself remembering a time where finding love seemed like nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. Rachel is a brilliant woman yes, but she has mistakenly branded herself as invisible for most of her life.

Now, she is faced with the reality that not only does someone see her but, they are enamored with her.

It’s slightly terrifying.

Another quiet breath is pulled through her nose then as she smooths her hands over her dress once more.

Glancing back towards the home she’s shared with herself over the years, a small smile comes over her face as she realizes that she might need to get used to the idea of sharing.

But then again, it will be nice to have someone around during the winter...

Especially when that someone has biceps like Jungkook.

Rachel waves at a group of students who scream her name excitedly from across the street whilst desperately hoping that they don’t try to follow her to her destination.

With another deep breath, she begins heading out of the market plaza and into the deep emerald of the clearing just before the camp. Normally around this time, she would be heading there with Y/N to deliver bread but, tonight she takes a sharp left into forest.

She had given Jungkook instructions on how to get there and he had then insisted on getting there before her to set things up. Rachel realized at that moment that her ability to refuse him was at a minimum, especially when he flashed those beautiful eyes her way.

Curse him and his ethereal beauty.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, she navigates through the maze of trees as the sound of running water slowly makes its way into her ears. A smile comes across her lips then, as she realizes she’s getting close.

The sun is beginning to take the minimal warmth of the day with it as it begins its descent towards the horizon and, she feels slightly regretful that she chose to meet with him around sunset.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice body heat for the ambience.

As she nears one of the many pools that come off of the main river, she finally sees Jungkook waiting for her. Slowly but surely, she can make out his appearance for the evening and as she does, her heart swoons.

He’s standing somewhat awkwardly at the edge of a large tan woolen blanket, dressed in a red tunic and red cloth pants, with his onyx locks freshly washed and curling in various directions atop his head. She sees him swallow at the sight of her, the tiniest of smiles etching onto his lips.

“Good evening.” He bows slightly, gesturing to her, “You look- um, you look very nice.”

She returns his smile, fingers clutching the basket of food a bit tighter, “Good evening. I could say the same to you, red looks really great on you.”

His stance seems to light up at her compliment, the tiny smile growing, “That’s what my hyungs said, I wasn’t sure if it was too much but, if you like it then-” He nods, cringing at how nervous he feels, “-then that’s good.”

Rachel bites her lip, noticing his nerves immediately, “I love it,” She assures him before raising the basket up, “I brought dumplings. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I brought a few different ones.”

At the mention of food, the tension within his figure seems to dissipate.

“I can’t wait to try them,” He grins now as he gestures to the blanket, “You can sit wherever you’d like, I can take those from you-” He shakes his head then, regretting his choice of words, “No wait... here-” He is gentle as he takes the basket from her before turning around to set it carefully on the blanket. He then reaches out with his palm extended, “I’ll help you down...”

Her heart bursts.

It seems she isn't the only one flooded with nervous excitement.

“Thank you-” She insures to heighten the gratitude within her tone, wanting to soothe his anxiety in any way she can, despite feeling so much of her own.

He plops next to her in a less graceful manner then he would have hoped as he looks regretfully toward his canteen, “We don’t have an extra canteen in the camp. They were all given away to the new recruits. I would have brought you your own but, I washed mine for you and filled it up. I can drink from the river over there.”

“Oh goodness no, you don’t have to do that-” She shakes your head, pulling out her canteen from the basket, “I figured you would have had your own; I should have brought you one just in case though-”

“No really, it’s ok! I can just use mine.” Once again, he cringes, “I guess it’s a bit strange that I would have thought you’d want to drink from mine...I don’t know what I was thinking.”

At the rather innocent pout on his lips, he looks up at her- feeling slightly hopeless.

A bit of silence lingers in the air for a moment before Rachel giggles and at the sound, Jungkook’s lips twitch.

“It’s not a good sign that you’re already laughing-” He laments, the smiling that was threatening his mouth fully taking over, “Even though I quite like hearing it...”

Rachel places a cautious hand over Jungkook’s knuckles, relishing in the warmth of his skin, “I promise you it is-“ She disagrees, “It’s important that I’m around people I can laugh with- even if its at our own expense sometimes…”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turns up in a half smile, “That might work out in my favor then- my hyungs say I appear one way but, behave another…I guess that’s why I feel so nervous now…”

He looks up at her quite innocently through his long eyelashes as Rachel furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”

Jungkook’s fingers are now aimlessly toying with the bit of loose thread and, with her heightened sense of empathy, Rachel can sense that he is burdened in some way.

“I am slightly afraid that you will be disappointed when you get to know me…” He admits.

This shocks Rachel as she cannot imagine how someone as beautiful as Jungkook could lack confidence in any capacity. But still, she feels the urge to understand him.

“Well, I don’t want to discount your worries Mr. Jeon but, “ She tilts her head slightly, a hint of sternness in her gaze, “I sincerely doubt your ability to disappoint me.”

Jungkook’s cheeks begin to burn all over again; there is something about the way her lips look curving around the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ that he stores away for a later time.

“Aren’t I already different than what you expected?” He chuckles, and the sound is boyish and full of airiness but, it still holds a bit of tension.

He was right.

He was much different than she had anticipated but that isn’t saying much, considering the fact that her first impression of him came after he took down a group of raiders.

“Different doesn’t always mean disappointment…” She assures him candidly, “In fact, I am quite relieved that you aren’t what I expected.”

He is intrigued, “Most of the people I meet are afraid of me but, I can’t say I blame them; My hyungs and I come with a reputation. Were you afraid of us when we came here?”

Jungkook wants to know what she thinks, even if he might be uncomfortable with her answer.

Rachel eyes the dumplings collecting the cool air around them and, doesn’t even notice the fact that they have yet to start eating. Both of them are too overcome with anticipation to pay attention to much else aside from each other.

It felt instinctual to begin things this way.

“Yes.” She replies honestly, catching the way his face falls and regretting it instantly, “But that wasn’t your doing. I have come to understand that you and the rest of your battalion are merely victims of village gossip. Besides, the fear I felt quickly disappeared once I saw you.”

Jungkook’s face lightens once again as he extends his hand towards hers. Rachel feels a shiver rush eagerly up her spine as he slips his fingers between her own, “You aren’t afraid of me now?”

Anyone else may have found it odd that Jungkook needed this type of reassurance so early in the evening but, he simply couldn’t relax until he knew that he wasn’t perceived as a threat. He is so used to putting on a tough persona and, even more used to people fearing him. He has grown quite tired of always needing to disarm himself.

Tightening her grip on his hand, she allows a playful smirk to etch across her lips, “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you in the middle of the forest if I was afraid of you. That would be quite foolish don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s teeth are brilliant as he grins, a breathless bit of laughter leaving his mouth, “Not unless you were some sort of thrill seeker…”

Sensing the bit of suggestion in his voice, she takes her chance and utters, “Those aren’t exactly the type of thrills I’m seeking…”

Jungkook feels his mouth dry up at her words but, before he has time to process any of it, she raises the basket once more, “These are getting cold.”

And ever the gentleman, he doesn’t comment on it but just as he did with the image of her lips, he stores her comment away.

For later.

The two of them begin eating and, Rachel watches on fondly as he shoves more than half of the dumplings in his mouth. She can tell he is doing his best to appear civilized but, Y/N did mention that they don’t eat proper meals very often so, his manners weren’t exactly in tip-top shape.

Rachel didn’t mind. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching him stuff himself. His cheeks puffed up adorably to accommodate the volume of dough he was shoving in them but, despite him wanting to eat the entire batch, he kept insisting on feeding her bites of food every 30 seconds or so.

During dinner, they talked about all sorts of things:

Rachel’s childhood, her work as an educator, her favorite seasons…

Jungkook wanted to learn it all.

He was fascinated by her entire existence.

However, after a certain amount of time, Rachel begins to notice how he continuously shifts the conversation back towards her. He doesn’t look uncomfortable when she asks him questions but, he keeps answering them as quickly as possible.

Finally, Rachel decides this theme has gone on long enough before she finally asks the one question that’s been on her mind all night.

“What led to you joining Yoongi’s battalion so early?”

Jungkook swallows the instant lump in his throat, “Uh well…it wasn’t hyung’s battalion yet when I first joined. We both went in together. He took over when he was about…” He thinks for second, “20 I think? So I would have been about 17. But we were both running in missions long before that.”

Rachel almost comments on the fact that he didn’t answer her question but, he beats her to it and, continues.

“Yoongi-hyung and I are brothers but, not by blood.” He begins, “His family took me in when I was 7.”

She can sense that he is about to tell her something quite serious so, she hesitates to ask any further questions; he would clarify if he was comfortable enough to do so.

“Hyung and I are from the same village. Our families had been neighbors for three generations until-“ He averts his eyes, preparing to tell the story that started it all, “we were attacked. Our village was destroyed by a raider clan. The first incident wasn’t so bad but, they came back and-“ Jungkook swallows the emotions that have balled up in his throat, “they decided that they weren’t after our valuables any longer; they were after blood.”

Rachel’s whole body is tense with the weight of his story, her mouth seemingly frozen in its slightly parted position as she tightens her grip on his hand.

“I still can’t comprehend it.” He breathes, shaking his head, “It wasn’t even like they were trying to recruit us or take us as laborers; they just wanted to create chaos.”

She can see the way his eyes are growing glossy and the way his breath seems to shorten and with her whole being, she expects to wipe his tears but, they never come.

“Our families tried to flee the village together but-“ He clears his throat, “my parents and I were shot by the enemy’s arrows. I remember seeing them go down in front of me and, then there was this horrible pain in my side. I tried to stay with them but, Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let me. He just threw me over his shoulder and ran. I still don’t know how he did it; he must have ran with me for hours before we made it to the next secure village.”

Still captivated by his story, Rachel runs his thumb over the backs of his knuckles to ensure that he knows she’s right there with him.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers and, he offers a sad smile in return, squeezing her hand.

“Hyung told me many years later that the shots my parents received were fatal. There was no chance of rescue. But, for so long I believed I had abandoned them there. From then on, the only family I knew was Yoongi-hyung and, the parents he decided to share with me; He shared everything with me actually: his food, his clothes, his bed, his patience,” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “When the military council came for him, I panicked; we had been inseparable for so long. I couldn’t stand to see my hyung going off to war alone so,” At last the heavy emotions begin to lift from his face as a slight smirk comes over his lips, “I may have snuck out in the middle of the night and, followed him out…”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “You could have been killed!” She smacks his arm playfully which causes him to break out in a fit of laughter, “How on Earth did you manage that??? I’ve always heard they were so meticulous!”

Jungkook shrugs, somewhat smugly, “I fit in quite well. I was already taller than hyung at this age and, he and I had been training together since we were young.”

“What did he say when  realized you had come along??? I’m surprised he didn’t send you home himself.”

He is chuckling again, his eyes lighting up fondly at the memory, “Oh he nearly killed me himself actually…he found me hiding out in a barn on the military camp and, it was truly the only time I’ve ever seen him that afraid. But once he was done lecturing me, we both decided it was safer for me to stay. Hyung was worried that I’d be punished if he turned me in to his general so, I passed as a volunteer. The rest is history…”

Rachel grins, overcome with fondness, “History indeed, especially the part when you became the youngest recruit to ever join the royal army.”

The faintest blush crosses his cheeks, “Well technically, the records will never reflect that, most people in our land believe hyung and I are the same age. I personally find this hard to understand as he clearly has so many more wrinkles than I do but-“ He shrugs again, “I suppose it works out.”

She smirks, “I suppose it does. I don’t know where the royal army would be without it’s Terror Cub…”

Jungkook groans, his face turned up in disgust, “I will haunt the historian who writes that name down in the books. Could they not have come up with something more menacing? Terror Cub? It sounds like a character in a children’s book…”

He is pouting profusely now and, Rachel decides that his adorable expression is far deadlier than any weapon he could wield.

She was simply powerless against it.

“I promise not to go blathering to any of our historians about it. If anyone asks, I will tell them you were the fiercest solider in all of the land.”

Jungkook’s heart swells with pride as he subconsciously puffs out his chest, “While you’re there please tell them of our involvement as well. I hope to be remembered for the pursuits of my heart rather than just my skills on the battlefield…”

Rachel’s lips twitch, “What exactly shall I tell them?”

His demeanor shifts slightly and, it's as if the sparkle in his eyes turns to lightening, “I think you should tell them that-” The distance between their lips seems to lessen almost subconsciously as Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, “our connection was medicinal, that it was almost as if we had been holding our breath until we finally found one another.”

Despite Jungkook’s words raising every hair upon Rachel’s skin, he seems to grow immediately nervous by his candid statement.

“That’s really excessive isn’t it? My hyungs always tell me that I should think before I-“

But he isn’t able to finish his sentence…

Rachel has closed the distance between them and, is pressing her lips against his own. Jungkook’s body stalls at the feeling and, he assumes the whole world stalls along with him.

For in this moment, there is nothing else but her lips.

Jungkook’s hands are unstable as they reach her cheeks and, he grimaces because he knows his palms are damp with the evidence of his nerves.

But Rachel doesn’t notice.

She can only sigh hopelessly into his mouth as the two of them deepen their kiss.

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

The river welcomes you with open arms this evening. The chill of the oncoming fall season is no match for the thick woolen coat your mother made for you last year. Tonight, you are overcome with peace as you stroll along the embankment. You’ve always felt so much happiness around the river but ever since meeting Yoongi, the meaning of this piece of land has shifted and intensified.

He is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He’s wise and controlled but, he carries a type of wildness that is uniquely his own. The great and powerful Tiger: he is so much more than just a rumor.  Even though you claimed to make your own judgements about things, you still expected Yoongi to be some sort of brut; an egotistic warrior at best or a bloody thirsty monster at worst.

But you had been wrong.

Yoongi was a man of great skill yes, quick like lightening and deadly like his feline persona but, his heart contained so much depth and so much warmth, that you found yourself drowning in it. The two of you hadn’t known each other long but, the emotions are already so strong. Your future with him is all you find yourself daydreaming about and, you can only hope that he is able to keep all of the promises he made to you.  

The anxiety surrounding his departure strikes again, right in the middle of your heart.

You have half a mind to join his ranks or even stowaway amongst the new recruits…

Surely he wouldn’t notice if you wore a disguise, right?

The twigs snapping on the forest floor behind you remove you from your ridiculous plan as a smile immediately graces your face.

“You’re late.” You call, not bothering to turn around, “Did the recruits keep you tied up again?”

There is a bit of silence before a voice answers your question.

“I didn’t realize you were expecting me- although it doesn’t surprise me that Yoongi’s plaything would have a heightened sense of awareness…” The voice is unfamiliar and, it causes your blood to run cold, “…given that she’s canoodling with a monster.”

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you’re about to turn towards the voice, a burly arm is wrapping around your neck. Gasping for air, your hands immediately fly up to claw at your attacker’s forearm.

Panic is rushing through you, your feet kicking around as he attempts to drag you backwards into the trees.

“You really shouldn’t be out in the dark by yourself, pretty.” He snarls into your ear, his breath reeking of alcohol, “There are a lot of maniacs out here…”

You can feel yourself losing consciousness as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your fingernails are desperately digging into his skin, trying to cause him any discomfort that you can.

“I want to see the look on his face-“ Your assailant cackles, “I want to see his reaction to your cold body laying in the place where you first kissed…He thinks he’s strong but-“

You hear him gasp for breath as an unknown force seemingly knocks it out of him. When he releases his grip on your neck, you frantically suck in the air around you, wincing as you fall to your knees.

In your attempt to distance yourself you scramble up against the nearest tree and, just as you’re about to scream for help, you realize that you’re not alone.

A golden dagger sticks out of your attacker’s shoulder as he attempts to get away from the one who threw it: Yoongi.

“Stay right there.” He calls to you gently, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

You are still reeling from nearly being choked to death but, you listen to his command, nonetheless. The man on the floor is dressed in the colors of the royal army and, you gather that he belongs to Yoongi’s battalion- or at least he pretended to.

Yoongi catches him by the hair as he drags him up to his knees. The man is spluttering from the pain, his brows drawn in tightly as he struggles against Yoongi’s grip.

“Do you remember the lesson from this morning, rat?” He ventures, his voice casual and icy cold.

“Y-yes sir…”

Yoongi rips his hair back again so the tip of his nose is facing the sky, “What was it?”

“Ah!” He groans, his hands balling up at his sides, “N-necessities, sir.”

“Necessities- very good.” Yoongi would sound like he was praising him if it weren’t for the heartless smirk painted across his lips. “Now, would you say your head was a necessity?”

As Yoongi asks his question, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and presses the blade to the man’s throat.

“Yes!” The man practically yelps, his body freezing beneath Yoongi’s grip, “Yes, sir! Very necessary, sir!”

You can’t help but watch in complete shock. There is a part of you that knows Yoongi would never kill someone in front of you but, the way the light has drained from his eyes is forcing you to doubt yourself.

“Oh is it now? What about your throat?”

Yoongi’s expression barely shifts but, you can literally feel the fury emanating off of his figure as he presses the blade further into his skin. Ruby red blood barely peeks out of the man’s skin as he whimpers.

“Yes-“ He chokes out, “It’s necessary! Please! They told me to kill her, I’m just the middleman! If you spare me, I promise I will tell you everything just-“

Yoongi stalls his movements, his eyes flashing towards you for a moment before yanking his head back again, “Who is they?”

Through another pained groan, the man spits out his answer, “The Meddleways sir.”

Although unfamiliar to you, the name seems to affect Yoongi greatly. However, he quickly composes himself and pulls the man upwards by his hair, “Stand up.”

Wincing, the man rushes to his feet, his hands lingering out in front of him with uncertainty.

With his lips curled beneath his fury, Yoongi offers one last eerily calm sentiment in the man's ear, “You are very lucky that I am in the presence of a lady. Had I come across you on my own-” He stops himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting the storm inside of him before continuing, “I will put you with your leader after my men are done questioning you. From there, you will make the journey to your trial and, whilst you are on your way- please be sure to thank whatever god you believe in that I am not the one tasked with your punishment.”

Yoongi’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s like a glacier, cold and enormous but, slow moving. It seems to inch into the man’s subconscious as he cowers beneath him.

“Do you understand?” Yoongi confirms to which the man nods immediately, “Good.”

With that final word, he rips the dagger out of the man's shoulder. His yelp is cut short by the handle of said dagger as Yoongi whacks it against the side of his head. The man falls to the ground unceremoniously, his body going limp for the time being.

The events that have transpired, leave you frozen against the bark of your favorite willow tree. Yoongi seems to know something you don’t and, you can’t fight your instinct to ask questions.

“Do you know him?”

Your voice seems to pull Yoongi away from his urges and back to reality. In an instant, he is rushing over to you, his cold gaze defrosting slightly as he assesses your wellbeing.

“Did he touch you?” He mutters, his fingers on the end of your chin, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, he was choking me but-”

Yoongi glowers, his nostrils flaring slightly, “Did he touch you?”

The way he emphasizes the word ‘touch’ gives you the hint that Yoongi is referring to whether or not he violated you.

“No...” You whisper, allowing your fingers to brush against his cheek, “He was only on me for a moment before you found us.”

Yoongi deflates under your touch but, to say that he relaxed would be an overstatement. In fact, it's safe to say that he has never been more tense in his entire life.

“Are you hurt?” His voice breaks at the end as he swallows back his emotions. Before you’re able to answer, Yoongi’s eyes light up with quiet rage all over again, “Your neck- it's going to bruise-”

“Hey-” You coax his gaze up to yours, “I’m safe. You saved me and, I’m safe.”

Your words unfortunately do nothing for him but, he doesn’t want to center this interaction around his fear. Instead, he simply nods and places a tense kiss to the center of your forehead before nodding to the limp figure behind him.

“I need to take him back to the compound, Namjoon and Jimin will get out any information he has. In the meantime, I need you to stay away from here. In fact, don’t go anywhere alone after sunset- not until I can assess the-”

“Let me come with you. I want to know what’s going on-”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No. It’s too dangerous to have you on the compound right now. My entire battalion may be compromised.”

“But Yoongi-”

His eyes grow cold again, “This is not a discussion. A civilian has no place in these matters.”

With his words, he drops his grip on you but just before he steps back, you are shooting a glare his direction.

“Civilian? Is that what you call me now, Min Yoongi?”

Using his full name would be considered disrespectful if the two of you didn’t know each other the way you do but, it still feels foreign coming out of your mouth.

Yoongi technically has authority over you and your entire village. If he wanted to, he could order you to do anything he wishes. Yoongi never exercises his power this way but, he is so overcome with fear that he wants to do anything to protect you. “You know that isn’t what I was implying. Don’t twist my words.”

“Then please feel free to untwist them for me. That term comes with a loaded meaning, and you know it...”

The tension clings in the air between you like moss to a tree. It’s uncomfortable and more importantly, unfamiliar. Yoongi stares you down, his hardened gaze wavering as the seconds pass. His eyes trace each feature of your face with desperation, seeking to memorize your current expression and, not because he is particularly fond of it but, merely because it belongs to you.

Yoongi’s future is not guaranteed and, therefore- neither is his life with you.

So he must memorize it all.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He concedes, his features softening, “I just need some time to sort through my men. I won’t deny your request for information but, I have to gather it first. I am asking you to stay away until then and, its only because I fear for your safety- not because I don’t regard you as my equal.”

His words gnaw at your guard until it disappears and, suddenly you wish to be in his arms. You know both of your reactions came from a place of fear as its woefully unlike the two of you to misunderstand one another.

“I’m scared.” You whisper, “I don’t want to leave your side.”

Yoongi’s heart breaks at the worry written on your beautiful face and, he loathes the unconscious man beside him even more for making you feel this way.

“Come here,” He reaches a hand out towards you and, as soon as you take it, he is pulling you against him. He places a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. When he feels your fingers curl into fists around the fabric of his tunic, his eyes squeeze shut.

He is terrified.

“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, do you understand?” He murmurs, his voice unstable, “I will protect you with my life and, gladly lay it down for your own.”

All you do is nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “But you’re going to leave me...”

And for this Yoongi has no response.

Because he will protect you yes, but he will never lie to you.

He is going to leave you and, it will be much sooner than he had planned; there is no use in training the recruits now- as far as he is concerned, they have all gone bad.

“Only my body will leave you.” He answers with another kiss to your head, “The rest of me is bound to you forever.”

----------------------------------------------------

It’s been nearly a day since you’ve seen Yoongi.

After he tied your attacker to a tree, he walked you back home and, fetched the rest of the men for reinforcements.

You have yet to see the man since Yoongi disarmed him but, more importantly, you hadn’t seen any of the battalion.

It was as if they had disappeared overnight.

The only indication of their presence was their horses roaming around the compound. The rest of the men were seemingly confined to their tents, a tactic likely used by the leaders to ensure they kept track of everyone whilst they interrogated the wayward recruit.

But still, it was unnerving.

It gave you another glimpse at what your world would look like very soon. Your life had changed so drastically since Yoongi’s arrival and, you simply weren’t ready to move throughout your day without the promise of meeting him by the river.

But you had to be ready.

You had to be ready a lot sooner than you anticipated.

The day had moved like slugs along the riverbank after the summer heat has dried up parts of its shoreline. Despite the nerves brewing within you and the ache of anticipation all over your body, the clocktower stared back at you defiantly, refusing to move.

Yoongi promised you he would come to your house as soon as he had the information he needed but, you weren’t planning on waiting for him any longer.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you were attacked and, without answers, you slowly felt yourself going insane with impatience. Once your wares were packed up and taken home, you strode with determination to the makeshift compound.

Still appearing to be deserted, you don’t have any clues as to which tent to start with first. You opt for the one that the seven men usually stay in and as you approach it, you desperately wish you were here delivering bread.

The illusion of simplicity had been shattered. You were being courted by the leader of the Royal Army and because of this, nothing was never simple to begin with.

You felt foolish for believing otherwise.

Before you’re able to ring the bell outside of the tent, you are met with Yoongi rushing from the opening, still dressed in the same clothes he wore the night prior. Dark rings of exhaustion are positioned around the sockets of his eyes and, his lips look as though they haven’t had a sip of water all day.

He is beautiful but, he looks like hell.

“I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to come looking over you-” He smiles but, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he offers his arm and jerks his chin towards the trees, “Walk with me?”

This can’t be good.

You nod, interlocking your arm with his and, taking a moment to relish the warmth that still ebbs and flows from him. Even with the gnawing monster of the unknown staring daggers at you in the distance, you feel safe with him.

“Did he keep his promise?” You ask him as the two of you step into the forest. The light shining through the trees is painted the same color as the sunset on the mountains and, if this were a normal meeting between the two of you, you would have admired it. However, the only thing you can focus on is what Yoongi has yet to tell you.

“He did,” He nods.

The promise, of course, refers to the attacker vowing to tell Yoongi anything he wanted to know if he decided to spare his life.

“And?” You cock your head, trying to catch his gaze that seems to be fixated upon the dirt beneath your feet.

If only you knew that he was actually staring at the way your dress billows in the wind, the way the shadows from the leaves bounce off the soft skin of your ankles...

He must memorize it all.

“I have to leave...” He finally says, looking up at you, “...tonight.”

The news is reasonable but, it feels like a cruel joke. You have half a mind to deny him, to lash out and, scold him for toying with you in such a way.

But Yoongi would never lie to you.

Ever.

“Tonight.” You whisper, swallowing the bitter flavor of the word. And almost involuntarily, your hands are curling gently around his forearms in protest, “Why tonight?”

Yoongi can quite literally taste the pain in your voice and, it sickens him; it sickens him because, there is nothing he can do about it.

He leaves his arms in place for you to touch however you want, thoroughly shocked that the desire still manages to coil in his stomach even in the face of such sadness.

“The man who gave me this scar on my face was the leader of a cruel wayward group known as the Meddleways. Years ago, after Namjoon successfully lead them to our army, the leader and I fought to the death. Xansa, was his name. It was the closest I had ever come to losing my life.” Yoongi almost smiles as he feels your grip on him tighten but, he opts for gently caressing beneath your elbows instead, “This group, they had plans to attack the Queen’s capital and assassinate the people who lived there. After the death of their leader however, many of them came to our side- claiming that they were held against their will. There were a small number who escaped and, I foolishly assumed they would dissolve.”

You look up at the scar he speaks of, gazing at the angry strip of marred flesh running down the center of his right eye. In complete silence, you reach up and trace your index finger along the shape of it, letting out a shaky sigh at the thought of someone causing him pain.

“They haven’t.” You conclude whilst Yoongi closes his eyes beneath your touch, “Have they?”

He simply shakes his head as his hands secure themselves round your waist. His eyes stay shut even when you move your hand from his scar to cup his cheek. The skin there is splotchy from the evening breeze and, surprisingly soft. You almost think to question it but, Yoongi is already answering your silent observation.

“Your salve.” He chuckles as his beautiful eyes finally open, “It would be swept up by the people of the capital in no time; it’s a miracle in a tin.”

Allowing just a moment of reprieve, your mind drifts to the not-so-distant future, “Shall I make a career there then? I imagine if you’re retiring, I will be the one providing for us.”

A bit of ego flashes through Yoongi’s eyes, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, “My villa is nowhere near the capital. And as for providing for us, I am pleased to inform you that I have enough gold from my military service to last us several lifetimes.”

Good, you think, one lifetime together wouldn’t be enough anyhow.

“Am I to be a housewife then?” You arch your brow, throwing an unimpressed but playful glance his way.

Yoongi smirks, “You are to be whatever you wish. It’s just worth noting that I have the means to take care of us both. Although, I will admit that whilst my retirement will hardly be noticed as there is already someone taking my place, if you chose to retire now that- that would have some dire consequences.”

His compliment, however silly, makes you giggle as you roll your eyes, “Your logic is insanely flawed my dear general however, I will accept your flattery nonetheless.”

Your laughter soothes the rawness in Yoongi’s heart, even if it’s just for a moment. He follows suit, unable to help the small bout of laughter that leaves his lips. But before long, you two seem to settle back into the solemnity of the moment and, you’re asking:

“There after you...aren’t they?”

Yoongi is nodding, his brows drawn tightly together whilst he murmurs, “They are coming for me now. My battalion and I must reconvene and cut them off before they attack here. Xansa is dead but, according to the man who attacked you, there is a new leader, Xansa’s brother. Their objective remains the same: they wish to destroy the peace the Queen’s have built and, exploit the land and it’s people for power.”

To know that not only is Yoongi tasked with defending the lands from violence, but also that he is being targeted specifically, frightens you beyond belief.

“Why can’t you stay hidden? My family will hide you; you could blend in here until they are defeated, I know it isn’t ideal but-” You sound panicked now and, it breaks Yoongi’s heart that he must deny you any reprieve.

“Darling,” He cups your face, his own bottomless gaze searching yours, “There is only one place in the world where I can truly hide. And someday,” A calloused thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “I will take you there and, we will live out the rest of our lives. But as of now, anywhere I go- weak minded men will follow, desperate to prove their idea of strength. My head is a trophy to all men who are poisoned by their masculinity.”

“Your head is not a trophy,” You protest but your voice barely reaches above a whisper, weakened by your own despair. For the last time it seems, you brush your fingers against his skin- electrocuted by the sensation, “and you are so much more than the rumors that follow you. So much more...”

Yoongi has to summon all the strength within him to keep his emotions at bay, not wanting to break down in front of you. Instead, he silently brings your lips to his and, presses the softest kiss to your mouth.

He pours everything he wish he had time to say into it, his breathing picking up slightly as you return the passion with everything you have.

The two of you know you have to break it off, especially as you hear the compound finally come to life beside you; they were preparing to leave.

With foreheads pressed together, you are the first one who speaks with bated breath, “Promise you’ll come back to me...”

His hands are on either side of your face now as he centers your focus on his eyes. You had yet to see such silent determination within them since you met and for the moment, it convinces you that his word is golden.

“I will crawl back to you if I have to.”

When you part, you gather that most of Yoongi’s men have already left. It appears that only the main unit and, a group of thirty or so remain in the compound.

“Hyung!” Hoseok calls from the front of the tent, his normally bright expression full of contempt, “It’s time.”

You detest how well their readiness to leave coincides with the end of your conversation but, it almost feels easier this way. Being unable to anticipate the exact point of Yoongi’s departure has allowed you to be suspended in ignorant bliss.

The pain isn’t as drawn out.

Yoongi returns his statement with a tight nod before, turning his attention back to you for the last time.

With all the power in him, he musters up a type of promise one can only convey with their eyes and says, “I’ll meet you back at the river...” He swallows around all of the words he wishes to utter but, with a delicate brush to your cheek, he leaves you with only two, “...my love.”

And suddenly, the world between you is massive once again.

Suddenly, he is a thousand miles from you even though he only moves a few yards away.

You feel frozen in place almost, your cheek burning with the remains of his touch as you try to catch the breath his words stole from you.

Is this really it?

The last guaranteed moments of your incredible connection with a man you could only dream about- is this truly how they end?

You’re standing there longer than you realize because, the next thing you know, you hear the whinny of the last horses and, the sharp commands of Jin’s voice.

Spinning around, you aren’t thinking clearly as you sprint towards the group of men beginning to ride away into the forest.

“General Min!”

You are surprised at how well your voice carries over the noise and, out of the group pops Yoongi riding on the back of a black stallion.

With his gold sword attached to his hip and, his capable hands controlling the reigns, Yoongi brings the movements of his horse to a stop.

“Don’t be late.” You call to him, fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. But despite the tears, you are smiling- offering some semblance of hope to the two of you.

He chuckles, bowing his head towards you, eyes outlined in red, “Yes ma’am.”

Then he is gone.

And with him goes all of your steam for the time being.

It’s as though the energy has been pulled away from you, leaving you sullen and exhausted regardless of how much rest you’re able to get.

The weeks without Yoongi begin with nightmares. The one you had just before he left seems to haunt your subconscious day in and day out. It’s as if your brain were torturing you with worst case scenarios, preparing you for a world without him.

Without Yoongi.

The night the battalion left, you rushed over to Rachels and, upon her opening her door, you simply collapsed into her arms.

With your head on her shoulder, the two of you cried together. You hated the fact that she understood the pain you were in but, you were happy to have someone relate to.

She understood.

To live such an ordinary life one day, only to fall for a mysterious stranger the next…

And then to have that stranger seem so familiar, to connect so deeply with someone you haven’t known for very long and, then having to say goodbye…

It was a very specific type of pain and, your best friend knew exactly what the sting felt like.

Nearly a month of this passes before you receive something that has your monotone soul seeing color once again: a letter from Yoongi.

A young man, who identifies himself as a royal messenger, shows up at your door with a tightly wrapped piece of parchment that contains enough hope to keep you going for the foreseeable future. This young messenger explains that he was commissioned by the “the Royal General” to deliver two letters to this village every month until his return.

Two letters meaning, one to you and of course, one to the beloved schoolteacher next door.

The thought of Rachel getting to hear from Jungkook makes your heart sing.

Trying to contain the tears in your eyes, you thank the messenger profusely before practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back to your bedroom. You waste no time in removing the protective fabric from the letter, your shaky hands nearly ripping the corner of the parchment.

Y/N,

I know we didn’t discuss writing to one another but, I couldn’t handle not contacting you in some way. Thankfully, I’m privileged enough to have access to the royal messengers and, they have promised me they would deliver my letters until I return. Are you staying healthy? I know how cold it must be getting where you live. Please reassure me that you’re staying warm so, I can stop obsessing over it.

Our men have been successful so far. We’ve encountered many obstacles but, we have the strategies to hold our own. Most of my days have been spent working on a pathway out of this mess but, we have been unable to find the new leaders of the Meddleways. The Queens are aware and have sent reinforcements but, we still have a long way to go.

Not to worry, I still plan on keeping my promises to you. It’s the only thing that keeps me alert most of the day as I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I’d like to. Our time at the river spoiled me, I didn’t realize how much energy I was getting from your lips. Sleep depravity meant nothing when I was with you.

Yours,

Yoongi.

By the time you finish the letter, a teardrop is regretfully staining the center of the page. Frantically, you wipe it from the parchment before it’s able to blur the ink placed there by your lover. The indents from his lettering are the only piece of him you have so, you press your fingers to the page in an effort to feel closer to him.

Over and over, you read the words he wrote, overcome with gratitude that he would go to such lengths to have this message delivered to you. By the time you’ve read it for the tenth time, your mother is calling you from the other room, signaling supper is ready.

You have no interest in eating at this moment but, you know that family dinners aren’t something you’ll be able to enjoy once Yoongi returns. So, you decide to file your thoughts away for later and join your parents in the main room.

The meal your mother prepared takes a lot of time and effort so, you insist on cleaning up after the three of you finish eating and, send your parents to bed early. They work so hard and, deserve all of the rest in the world.

After cleaning up the kitchen, you eagerly return to your room to draft your response to Yoongi.

General Min,

I am pleased to report that I have not one but, two woolen blankets at my disposal. You can put your obsessions regarding my warmth to rest for the time being. Other than missing you, my health has kept up just fine since you left. The village is preparing for a rainy season as we do every year but, I’m actually quite excited for the storms.

It’s good to know the Queens are supporting your mission as I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to track down such a volatile group. Nevertheless, my faith in your abilities is still strong. If anyone were able to apprehend them, it would be you. In regard to your sleep deprivation, I can only offer you my energy from afar. I visit the river every night since you’ve been gone and, I find myself leaning against our tree, wishing that it was you who was pressing me into it.

Continue to think of my lips, General. They will be all over you before you know it.

I cannot wait to hear from you again,

Y/N  

A smirk is on your lips as you seal your letter with melted wax, hoping that your wayward tongue motivates him to keep going. The promise of finally being able to consummate your passion for one another burns brightly within you and, you can only hope he will feel the same.  

The messenger had explained to you that he would return for your letter in the morning as he had other deliveries in the area. That night, you slept particularly well and, for once you were able to dream of something peaceful.

As promised, the man returns to your home the next morning to collect your letter and with a tip of his hat, he assures you that he will return the same time next month.

And he certainly does but, it seemingly comes at the cost of said month dragging on endlessly. However, when the messenger shows up at your home, you are quick to forget the last four weeks and, instead just focus on the small piece of Yoongi waiting for you. Before the boy continues on, a nagging question enters your mind and, you are stopping him before he reaches Rachel’s house.

“Excuse me, I hate to pry but, have you been in contact with the general at all?”

He offers a small smile as he shakes his head, “No, ma’am. The general leaves his letters at one of my many posts throughout this land. I met with him only once but, he specifically instructed me not to come looking for him if he didn’t leave anything for me to deliver; he said it was too dangerous.”

This frightens you as it comes ripened with the devastating possibility of Yoongi being incapacitated in some way. Of course it isn’t the man’s intention to worry you and rather than unloading all your anxieties onto him, you merely smile back and thank him for his time.

Before he knocks on Rachel’s door, you also learn his name and, silently scold yourself for not thinking to do so sooner.

He tells you his name is Hyunjin and, expresses his gratitude for your business before leaving you alone to read your letter.

Y/N,

I am trying to find the words to properly convey how many times I re-read your letter and, all of the ways I managed to use it, without sounding crude, but then I remembered that my Y/N doesn’t really care much for decency does she? So I shall be candid for once…

It’s very late when I’m writing my response and, I am overwhelmed with my desire for you. It’s quite sickening actually. I feel lightheaded when I think of us alone together.

Never in my entire life have I wanted someone so badly.

I wish I could see you somehow. Jungkook draws pictures of Rachel on every surface he can but, I don’t possess the artistic abilities he does. My attempts to draw you would be insulting. Although, I wouldn’t commission anyone to illustrate you either; They would mess it up somehow.

How has your month been? Are you still baking bread as often now that my greedy battalion is away?

Yours,

Yoongi

You are immediately transported back to your schoolyard days as you squeal into your bedsheets at his confessions. Yoongi truly had a way of saying everything you needed to hear in only a few words. More notably, he had a way of speaking so passionately; it took your breath away.

Feeling full of unbridled optimism, you pull out a fresh piece of parchment and your ink to begin drafting your response to him. 

General Min,

I can’t help but wish you had been a bit cruder. Next time, feel free to include all of the way you used my words; it would comfort me to know that I am tending to your needs from so far away.

It seems as though you and I share the same illness. I can’t help but, think of you in the same light every evening when I’m trying to sleep. I only wish I was able to dream of you the same way, I’m certain I would wake up feeling much more rested.

Are there any updates on your progress? It’s been three months and, yet I feel as though it’s been twice as long. Are you feeling alright? Are you able to find adequate shelter?

I’m sorry for the interrogation but, I can’t help myself when I begin worrying about you.

Tell Jungkook that Rachel draws him as well. Every time I visit her at home, she is shoving one of her pictures into dress pocket. She thinks I don’t notice but, I most certainly do.

What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know when she was in love?

In regards to the bread, I am baking slightly less than I was before but, I still find myself adding in extra ingredients for you all every now and then.

I’ve gone on long enough but, I still have so much more to say.

Just know, I miss you terribly.

Love,

Y/N

Hyunjin returns again the following morning and, graciously accepts your letter before heading on his way. When you hand him the parchment full of late night confessions, you truly think nothing of it.

Despite the longing you felt for Yoongi, you had grown used to looking forward to his letters. In a way, it was almost as if he were much closer than he actually was. The letters made you feel like he were writing to you from the capital while he was away on business rather than out in the middle of the battlefield.

But that didn’t change the reality.

Yoongi was out in the battlefield and, things were growing far more complicated than he was letting on.

“Hyung, we can’t keep evading their fire. They are going to catch up to us eventually.”

Yoongi has been trying to write his response to you for over an hour and, every time he sits down to do so- he is interrupted.

This time, the interruption comes from Hoseok who stumbles into the tent, sore from yesterday’s battle.

“Yes they will,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and when they do, we will lead them to the outskirts of the capital where the Queen’s have established reinforcements.”

“Aren’t you worried they will strike before then? We have already lost-“

Yoongi interrupts him now, trying his best to control the frustration and pain in his tone, “I am aware. I write down every single one of their names. That does not change my plan. We will not engage unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want to see another village go down beneath our fire.”  

Hoseok is dissatisfied with his answer but, he knows better than to question Yoongi when he is like this.

“What is our plan for tomorrow, hyung? Are we moving to a new area?” Jimin asks quietly, his tired eyes barely lingering open as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. His head is positioned in Jimin’s lap whilst his injured body tries to recuperate; everyone was losing their steam. “I don’t know if Taehyung should be travelling right now. He might have to ride on the back of my horse if we must move on…”

Yoongi’s chest tightens as he sees the state of his men.

The most prestigious army is now littered with bruises and open wounds. There isn’t a single muscle in their bodies that doesn’t feel strained or damaged in some way and, he doesn’t even remember the last time they had a proper meal.

Clutching his quill in his fist, he nods solemnly at Jimin’s comment, “You are probably right. I will walk the perimeter with the rest of our men tonight before bed and if all is clear, he can camp out an extra day whilst he heals.”

Jimin offers a small smile in return that only just reaches his eyes, “Thank you, hyung.”

He nods tightly, adjusting the grip on his quill before continuing to write; he has so much he wants to tell you. He wants to cry out to you in his letter but, he doesn’t want to worry you. Instead, he’d rather pretend like everything is alright, like the two of you are merely star-crossed lovers sneaking around after dark and, writing in code to communicate with one another without being caught.

He wants to pretend like he is anyone else but most of all, he wishes to pretend to be the man he promised you he would be.

But, he won’t lie to you.

He can’t.

Y/N,

This might be the last time you hear from me for a while. Things are growing extremely difficult for my men and I. We must now focus all of our efforts on making it to the outskirts of the capital safely so, that we have the reinforcements we need.

My entire body aches for you, Y/N. There is no comfort for me aside from your letters.

And as much as it pains me to say it, I am beginning to fear that I might not make it home to you. I have yet to express this to my men because, I don’t want to worry them. I just don’t know what our future holds anymore.

We have sustained so many losses.

I don’t want to worry you either but, I am only doing so because, I need you to know something. My need for you to understand this overcomes my need to make you comfortable.

I love

BANG.

With a flash of fire, the tent Yoongi resides in is quickly overwhelmed with chaos.

And as he hears the desperate calls of his men, he knows he has no choice but to abandon his words to you and, fight.

Or else he and his men are doomed.

---------------------------------------

There wasn’t a particular day Hyunjin arrived but, you did expect him to come some time during the middle of the month. However, the middle of the month comes and goes without a word from him and, while you find this to be quite odd, you chose to think nothing of it.

Yoongi was in the middle of a lengthy mission, it was a miracle you had been able to hear from him as much as you did.

However, when the second month passes without word from him- you begin to feel the tidal wave of panic swelling inside of you.

You feel idiotic for getting sucked into the romance of letter writing. It had convinced you, only for a moment, that there was nothing at stake.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Everything was on the line.

How could you lessen your vigilance?

Yoongi could very well be in a grave danger somewhere and, you would never know.

Does he have arrangements for such a thing?

Did he consider this?

Of course he did, you think, as you begin to choke back your tears.

He has seen more carnage than you could ever imagine; he most certainly thought of informing you of his passing.

So maybe this is a sign to be hopeful.

Maybe this means that he is merely stuck somewhere or far too busy to send letters.

With an almost delusional sense of certainty, you furiously wipe your hand across your face and, try to gather yourself.

Today was a busier day at the market so, you desperately hoped things would move quickly.

For once, you are lucky enough to have your wish granted.

The next month however, isn’t so merciful.

Every day is the same. You wake up, try to muster up a smile, pack your wares and sell in the plaza. You bring Rachel her snacks and, the two of you eat in silence before it becomes too much and, you both end up crying.

She hasn’t heard from Jungkook either.

It’s been three months and, you have heard nothing about the whereabouts of the men you intended to be with for the rest of your lives. It’s as if the world is turned upside down and, you spend the majority of your time thinking the worst.

The next morning however, you are granted the briefest moment of respite when Hyunjin knocks at your door. You barely manage to pull on your coat when you yank open the door and, beam at his presence.

“Thank goodness, I was so worried-“ You are cheering for only a second until you catch a glimpse of his expression.

“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you but, I felt it was my duty to give you an update on the General…”

Your blood is cold and still within your veins and, the sickening feeling of grief begins crawling its way through your senses.

“We haven’t heard from his battalion for months now. The Queens have sent out a league of experts to find them but, we have yet to-“ He swallows back his nerves as he sees the look on your face, “-we have yet to be successful.”

The tears are unstoppable as they quickly flood the sockets of your eyes. Your hand feels clammy whilst it grips your door frame, your whole body growing numb with each word he utters.

“This doesn’t mean the worst, ma’am. The Tiger’s army is well known for disappearing like this, it’s part of their strategy. I just didn’t want you to be left wondering why I didn’t return. When I went to the postal location, nothing was waiting for me.”

With a shaky and unrecognizable voice, you ask, “Not from Jungkook either?”

He frowns, looking at you with pity, “Nothing, ma’am. There are normally hundreds of letters for me to deliver and, I didn’t find a single one.”

Regardless of his attempt to comfort you, you knew exactly what this meant: something was horribly wrong.

You couldn’t even manage to think of the word but, all of your terrifying nightmares containing Yoongi begin to flood your subconscious. It's all you can think about now.

“I promise to update you as soon as I hear from them, ma’am.” Hyunjin feels immensely uncomfortable delivering this news and, he is eager to return home as quickly as possible.

All you can manage is a nod before you robotically begin closing your door, “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Thankfully, your parents are out for the day so, you’re able to shut the door quietly before sliding against it, allowing a broken sob to leave your lips.

You knew in your heart that the likelihood of Yoongi and his battalion being safe was next to nothing. The lack of his letters had been evidence enough but, you wanted to remain hopeful, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just busy.

But you were lying to yourself.

Cupping your hand around your mouth, you let out all of the emotion you couldn’t relinquish in front of Hyunjin. Your eyes burn as your tears stain your cheeks, your lips parted in a silent scream. With your body shaking, you cry for the life you were never able to have and, for the man you were never able to love.

That evening, your mother helps you into bed. She understands when you refuse supper even though she made your favorite. She lets you cry in her lap like you did when you were a little girl only this time, you weren’t crying over schoolyard bullies.

You don’t leave your bed for two weeks. The only time you have contact with anyone other than your parents is when Rachel finally decides to drop by to check on you. Of course, the feeling had been mutual and, just as you had before, the two of you spend most of your time crying together.

Once she decides to leave, you are once again left alone with your thoughts, all of which are of Yoongi. Today in particular, you are remembering his hands and, the first time you intertwined fingers.

“Why are you looking at my hands?” You had asked him

“Because I want to hold them.”

His voice echoes in your mind now as fresh tears find their way out of your eyes for the millionth time and, it’s this memory that prompts you to visit the river.

You hadn’t been back since Hyunjin came to deliver the news. The thought of going there alone sent a deep sadness through you but, part of you felt like it might be a good idea.

If you were to ever truly mourn him properly, you would have to grieve every piece of your time together.

Wrapping yourself up in your winter coat, you make the short journey towards a place you once called your favorite spot in the world. At first, it was because of the inner peace it had brought you but once Yoongi came into the picture, it took on a whole new meaning.

The rain had stopped hours ago so other than a bit of extra mud and a much colder breeze, the river looked just as it did during the summer.

Securing your coat tighter around yourself, you sniffle whilst looking out towards the river. The palette of the sunset is reflecting off the water and, bouncing against the ground beneath your feet. If it had been under any other circumstances, you would have felt content here. You would be collecting herbs, humming to yourself, speaking with the forest creatures- despite their lack of understanding you but...

Most importantly, you would be waiting for Yoongi.

The thought once again causes you to cry as your brain tries to conceptualize a world without him.

It seems so impossible.

...

“So- is this where the tree bark grows?”

Your eyes widen and you turn around so quickly you nearly fall over. As if out of a fairytale, General Min Yoongi stands just beneath the entrance to the river, dressed head to toe in his strongest armor. His hair is slightly messy and framing either side of his face and his mouth is portraying a brilliant smile.

He’s alive.

You’re crying harder now, frozen in place as you call to him, playing out the first time you two met here,

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...”

If you aren’t mistaken, you see him sniffle as the smile on his face only grows, “I’m sorry, I’m late ma’am...”

His voice breaks at the end and the next thing you know, you are running. Opening his arms, he braces himself for you and, as you crash into him- he uses all of his strength to lift you off the ground. Spinning in a circle, he chuckles fondly when you start placing kisses anywhere you can reach: his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead, his chin...

It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him.

“You bastard!” You cry to him which only causes him to laugh harder, “I thought you were dead I- I thought you were...”

He stops spinning as his gloved hands come up to cup your face, his eyes wet with the slightest evidence of tears, “Shhh I know, I’m so sorry- I tried everything to reach you but, it wasn’t safe...”

You’re shaking your head, your hands coming up to rest over his, needing to feel every part of him, “It doesn’t matter- you're here now.” You say the phrase but then suddenly, you are overcome with a sickening feeling. What if you were just imagining this? What if you had simply dreamed of him? With a desperate glance, you press your hands into his harder, searching his eyes, “You are here aren’t you? Like- you're really here? You came back to me?”

Yoongi’s expression crumbles, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “I am, my love. I am here- this is the only place I know now.”

Sniffling again, you lean in towards his lips, your mind completely fuzzy with emotion, “Show me, show me you’re here.”

He takes the hint, closing the distance between you and, tucking his mouth into yours. It’s a much harder kiss than you’re expecting but, you relish in it nonetheless. Yoongi’s lips taste like medicine to you, all of your pain melting away beneath his touch. He sighs shakily as he presses your body into the cool steel of his armor, slightly wishing that he had been able to wash up before coming to see you.

It’s been a long journey.

“You’re here...” You whisper into the kiss, your hands tracing over his features, “You kept your promise...”

Yoongi is nodding, pecking at your lips over and over again, “I told you I would crawl didn’t I?” When you nod, he continues, “Well I crawled, darling. I crawled all the way back to you...”

You pull back slightly, unable to get enough of his face, your fingers coming up to brush the hair from his face. Elated, you laugh breathlessly, a smile burned onto your mouth.

“You will never have to crawl again, General Min. It is now my life-long mission to make sure you are in a warm bed with a full belly for the rest of your life.”

Yoongi beams at your sentiment, his eyes lighting up along with his grin whilst his hands slide down your body before settling on your hips, “I love you.”

There it is.

Those three little words that have been etched in your mind for longer than they should have been.

Gripping his face between your palms, you are bringing his mouth down towards you once again, “I love you too.”

After much more kissing, Yoongi mentions that he hasn’t eaten properly in quite a while and, that he has a few things to discuss with you before you can leave with him. You insist that he can use your family’s bathing area to wash up and, that you will pick up clothes for him in the plaza; the armor he’s wearing looks incredibly uncomfortable.

The two of you decide to visit the local tavern as it will be a good place for Yoongi to eat and, update you on what’s going on. He does specifically mention however, that he doesn’t want to speak of what he’s just been through. He only assures you that all six of his leaders survived and, that the Meddleways had been apprehended. He promises you that he will tell you stories from the mission later down the line but for now, he only wishes to speak about your future together.

However, there is one question that’s been nagging at you since he arrived that is slightly off-topic.

“Is Jungkook here?” You take your seat at the table across from him, slightly hating how far apart the two of you are.

Yoongi grins, a bit of fondness in his eyes, “He wouldn’t even wait for me to get out of the chariot before he was already sprinting like a mad man towards her home.”

You feel overjoyed at the thought of how your best friend’s day is going. The grief hit the two of the same way so, you hope she is feeling all of the happiness you felt when you realized the man you loved returned home.

“Are the four of us riding in the chariot together then? You might need to stay in town for a few days if that’s the case- I can throw all of my worldly possessions into a trunk but, Rachel would need more time to prepare.”

Yoongi reaches out for your hand then, smiling as you instinctively lace your fingers between his, “The chariot only has room for two, I’m afraid. My brother has decided to stay here for the time being. I think this final mission was especially hard on him, he’s expressed that he just wants to stay in one place for awhile.”

This resolution warms your heart. The idea of Rachel and, Jungkook making a quiet life for themselves in your home village, brings you so much joy. In many ways, it seems as though they had found a home in each other and, you couldn’t wait to see what their future held.

“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for the two of them. Although, I do know someday Rachel wishes to leave the village…I’m sure they will work out the details when the time is right.”

“My brother has already insisted that he will build her a house with his bare hands,” He chuckles, “so, at least she doesn’t have to worry about finding a carpenter.”

“What a gentleman.” You giggle before taking a sip of your drink.

Yoongi squeezes your hand gently, acknowledging your sentiment before eagerly moving back to what he wanted to discuss with you.

“My villa has been prepared for the two of us whenever we are ready. We have an entire battalion waiting to escort us there but, we will have to return to the capital after a few days.”

“Retirement ceremony?” You venture with a smile to which he chuckles and, shakes his head.

“I opted out of the theatrics actually. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, those ceremonies last far too long. I am just eager to start my life with you. However,” He sighs, wincing slightly, “my successor doesn’t seem to feel the same way. He wants his full induction ceremony which of course, I would have to attend...”

You cock your head, “Who is your successor?”

Yoongi smirks, “Seokjin-hyung.”

This doesn’t surprise you. Jin is the oldest member of the lead battalion and although Yoongi was technically their general, Jin never failed to assert himself as his right hand.

“I thought the seven of you were retiring this year. Did he re-enlist?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, he is taking on the position I turned down.”

You cock your head, brow furrowed with confusion, “Oh? What position is that?”

A rather arrogant look flashes in his eyes for just a moment until he seemingly reigns it in, attempting to keep his tone as casual as possible, “I was asked to serve on the royal council as an advisor to the Queens…”

Its impossible to hide the widening of your eyes causing Yoongi to chuckle at the expression on your face, “You must have made quite the impression, General Min. My father has always told me that positions on the royal council are passed down by blood…you really turned it down?”

Yoongi merely squeezes your hand, “I did. Do you think I was mistaken?”

You shake your head, “Oh, of course not. I mean- selfishly, it’s the outcome I would have hoped for but, I just want to ensure that you didn’t do this for me.”

A small grin comes over his lips whilst his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles, “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly guarantee that, ma’am. I don’t think any of my decisions are made without you in mind…” You open your mouth to protest and, Yoongi merely chuckles again, holding his finger up to signal that he isn’t finished, “However, even if I didn’t have you in mind- I still would have turned it down. As flattering as the offer was, I don’t wish to work in this field any longer. I’m grateful for my time and, honored that I was able to serve my land properly but-“ He stares into your eyes and, you can finally get a look at how exhausted he is, “I’m very tired. I’ve spent my entire youth with a sword on my hip and, I want to live simply now. If I’m being honest, I want to be detached from the rest of the world for a little while...”

You admire the man sitting across from you so much.

He’s only ever given to others, laying his life on the line over and over again, only to have his reputation constantly called into question. Staring at him now, you can’t even remember a time when he was nothing more than a rumor.

“I can’t even imagine the hardships you’ve endured. Your desire for peace is only natural after everything you’ve been through.” You place a kiss on the back of his hand, allowing your lips to linger there as he responds.

“What I desire is you.” He counters, his voice slightly raspier than before, “Peace will just allow me to indulge in you properly. I want no distractions... just as I told you before.”

Yoongi’s voice is laced with something that is wholly inappropriate for a public setting but, neither of you seem to care- instead you just stare at each other for a moment. You watch as his eyes travel over every inch of your face before slowly easing down your neck and, back up again.

The pain of missing him is one thing but, the lack of opportunity to bury into one another is physically painful.

You clear your throat and, send a smirk his way, letting him know that you understand what he’s getting at, “Did you offer the position to Seokjin? Or was he just next in line after you?”

Yoongi leaves his lust in the back of his head for now. He doesn’t want to rile himself up in the middle of the busy tavern.

“The Queens offered him the position when I turned it down. He was named my successor a few years ago when I fell ill so, he was already in a position to take over for me if necessary. Out of all of my men, he is the most capable but, also the most willing.” He chuckles, thinking fondly of his hyung, “He will do a far better job than I would anyhow. He is much more social and, outspoken. Plus, he will be living in the palace- I couldn’t imagine a better life for such a man.”

The warmth in Yoongi’s tone is palpable and, you can’t help but admire the way he talks about his men; its as though they are family to him.

“To Seokjin,” You smile, raising your glass.

Yoongi follows suit, clinking the rim of his goblet yours, his eyes brightening, “To Seokjin.”

As the two of you sip from your cups, Yoongi continues on with his explanation, “The journey to the villa will be brief. We will visit the palace for the ceremony in a few days and, then make our way back home again. From there, we are free to do whatever we wish.” The word home fills you with bliss. For the first time in months, it seems as though everything was falling into place. Now, the two of you could truly be together and, live out the rest of your days in peace.

“Free-“ You muse with a smile, “I quite like the sound of that.”

He smirks, “Of course you do. You have never failed to remind me that you don’t care much for the rules…”

Shrugging, you lean back in your chair and regard him for a moment before replying, “I don’t care for the rules that keep me away from you, General.”

His smirk never falters, “Consider them retired then, apothecary.”

The two of your resist the urge to maul one another in public and, decide to return to your home so that you can pack up your things and, Yoongi can bathe.

You try very hard not think of the fact that Yoongi’s naked body is on display in your back garden as you neatly fold your belongings away in your trunk. There are some things that you’re leaving behind so, that your parents can continue to sell your wares if they wanted to. Yoongi has arranged for them to receive part of his retirement so, they never have to worry about working again. It’s been discussed that the two of you will visit often and, you promised your parents you would write them every week.

Yoongi returns from his bath whilst you’re shoving the last of your clothing away. You can smell him immediately, the scent of your lavender soap wafting away from his skin as he walks toward you. He says nothing until his arms are wrapped around your waist, his chin coming to rest atop your shoulder, “I’ve never been in here before but, your room is very much like what I pictured.”

“Oh?” You lean against him, “I didn’t realize you would imagine what my room would look like.”

You feel him grin against your shoulder, “Well- I suppose I thought more about what we would do in your room…”

Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side to get a better look at him, “And what exactly would we do in here?”

You have half a mind to check to make sure Yoongi had closed the door to your bedroom but, when his hands start sliding up the front of your body, you no longer care.

“I would have love to take you in this bed…” A low chuckle comes from his throat as he starts kissing up the side of your neck, “Although, I wouldn’t be able to make you scream properly with your parents in the next room would I?”

His words send a jolt of electricity up your spine, your body growing weak beneath his touch. Through your nose, you emit a deep and unstable sigh before gripping his hands that are resting just under your breasts.

“You could have kept my mouth occupied somehow-“ You counter, feeling your attitude brewing beneath the surface of your patience.

At your comment, you feel Yoongi’s grip tighten on you as he moves his lips to your ear, “Excuse me?”

But all you do is smirk in return, regretfully pulling his hands from your body so you can continue packing.

“You’re excused.”

Yoongi is about to grab you again but, the knock on your door interrupts your flirting.

This seems to be a very irritating trend.

The two of you eventually part ways with your parents and, although you feel a bit of sadness, you’re overjoyed that they are able to live their life together in comfort. And because of Yoongi’s connections, you will be able to come visit them whenever you want.

The sexual tension between you and Yoongi has yet to fully fizzle out and, he reminds you of this as he grips your waist whilst the two of you walk towards Rachel’s home.

He has many things he’d like to say to you after that comment you made back in your bedroom but, the excited greetings from villagers prevent him from doing so. And all the while, you continue to grin, pleased that you’ve been able to pierce that carefully crafted demeanor of his.

You scamper away from him as you near Rachel’s front door, eager to see your friend after everything that has happened today. You’re anxious to see Jungkook too; Yoongi mentioned that this mission had been hard on him so, you’re hoping more so than anything that he isn’t injured too badly.

Yoongi lingers extremely close behind you as you knock on Rachel’s door, practically bouncing in your steps as you await for her to answer.

And boy does she…

Swinging open the front door, Rachel is still giggling at the man seemingly attached to her from behind. Her hair is absolutely destroyed and, her dress is buttoned up improperly as she addresses the two of you.

“Good evening, Y/N-“ She practically slurs, her eyes lit up with the type of insobriety that does not originate from alcohol. She bows her head towards Yoongi, “Good evening, General Min.”

Your lips are parted in delighted surprise as you survey the two bumbling humans before you. Jungkook is dressed only in his linen trousers, his black tendrils sticking in every direction atop his head and, from what you can see- his neck is littered with various reds and purples.

“Good evening to you- harlot…” You chide, trying to contain your laughter.

She shrieks, reaching out to smack your arm, just as she always does, joy painted all over her face, “Excuse you! I am a respectable woman of education.”

“Uh huh-“ You smirk, unconvinced before nodding towards the man behind her. He’s not even really paying attention to you, his eyes are just staring up at your friend like a lost puppy, his lips swollen from their previous activities, “Jungkook, it’s good to see you. Are you well?”

He merely smiles, only glances at you for a moment before his eyes rush back to Rachel, “Very well, thank you.”

Yoongi clears his throat, “Jungkook-ah,” He scolds, “Answer her properly…also, why are you answering the door if you aren’t decent.”

Jungkook seems to snap out of it, hiding behind Rachel in an effort to shield his body from your view, “My apologies. I’m feeling much better now, I’m glad to see you are looking healthy as well.” His tone shifts once again as he addresses Yoongi, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief, “I just wanted to see you off hyung and, uh- Rachel said this was decent in this village, I’m just adapting to the new lifestyle.”

Yoongi raises a brow, unconvinced but endeared nonetheless, “I am highly suspicious of that explanation…”

Jungkook giggles like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “You should be.” He winks at his hyung, giggling harder as Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust. He rests his chin back upon Rachel’s shoulder before speaking again, “Are you two heading to the villa then?”

You’re grinning now, admiring how relaxed Jungkook seems around her, “We are. I was hoping to hug my best friend goodbye before we made the journey…”

Jungkook gets the hint, his eyes widening a bit as he reluctantly moves his arms from her, “I will give you thirty seconds.”

This causes Rachel to laugh, waving him off playfully as she opens her arms to you, “Come here you…”

You throw your arms around her, smiling even as the tears sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you… far more than I care to admit…”

She laughs again, patting your back gently, “Oh you know I’ll be around…” She assures you but, her voice is tightening with her own emotions, “…but please make the journey to me often…I fear how stale this village will become without you.”

You’re looking at Jungkook now as he grins softly, admiring the two of you and, send a look his way, “I’m sure this one will keep you properly entertained…”

Finally, the Jungkook you remember returns as he seems to shy away from your comment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Rachel is staring at Yoongi too and, she musters up the courage to throw a pointed finger in his direction; she is still slightly intimidated by him after all.

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She is precious cargo, General Min.”

Yoongi tips his head toward her as he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart, “You have my word, ma’am.”

Rachel smiles, sniffling a bit as the two of you release each other, “Good.” You pull away from her, trying not to give in to your urge to cry as you both sort of giggle, exchanging a series of knowing glances with one another.

“I love you, my dear friend.” You squeeze her hands and, she returns the gesture, her eyes glossy while she slowly begins to release your hands.

“I love you.”

Jungkook is back on her then, his brow furrowed with concern at her saddened state. He says nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two and, chooses to press a soft kiss to her shoulder instead.

Yoongi moves closer to you as well, winding his arm around your waist and, squeezing your hip reassuringly.

“Write to me?” Rachel asks, trying to mask the cracks in her voice.

You nod, blinking back the remainder of your tears, “Every week.”

Leaving Rachel is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do but, it feels so much better knowing how happy she will be. Yoongi stays silent for the moment, gently escorting you down the street, waving at many of the civilians that bid the two of you farewell.

Roughly 10 minutes later, the two of you are huddled in the back of a massive wooden chariot, pulled along by four black horses and accompanied by a group of guards. The interior is lined with padded silk and, is easily the softest thing you’ve ever sat on in your life. After the two of you are settled inside, Yoongi mentions your departure with Rachel:

“You two have a special bond, I’m sorry that you won’t be living near her for the time being…” He feels guilty for the moment, wondering whether or not you were happy giving up so much for him, “You know, we can always come back. I could commission the architect to design us a home out here.”

You squeeze his hand, touched that he would suggest such a thing, “I appreciate your concern but, I promise you that I am beyond content with my decision.”

His lips curve slightly, feeling satisfied with your answer for the time being. He would be sure to check in with you often, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unfulfilled.

“I’m happy to hear that but, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever get tired of me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand as the two of you approach the chariot.

“I promise you, you would know...” You assure him, nudging his leg with your foot. Yoongi grins and quick as ever, he grabs your ankle and, places it upon his lap. The sudden motion makes you jump, a bit of laughter coming from your lips. Silently but still grinning to himself, he gestures for your other foot with his hand until you get the hint to rest both of them in his lap. He looks down at them, something unreadable flashing through his eyes whilst his fingers brush over the tops of your ankles.

Its such a simple gesture and, yet it sends shivers across the surface of your skin. Yoongi continues to touch you, not saying a single word as he traces the faint shape of the veins beneath your flesh.  Resting your head against the silk lining of the chariot, you allow your eyes to close in order to enjoy his touch. As your lids fall shut, Yoongi grins softly, finally allowing himself to ogle at you the way he wants to.

And oh, can you feel his eyes on you. They burn into your skin despite the fact that you cannot see exactly where he is looking. Truthfully, it wouldn’t matter even if you did, his eyes were everywhere.

His fingers slowly venture up to slide along either of your shins but, he is careful not to reach your knees just yet. And it's here that you decide to set your curiosity free.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

You feel his motions stop for a split second as he processes your question, the silence of the chariot much louder than before.

“Not long before I first arrived at your village.”

The effort to hide your frown is in vain as Yoongi’s rickety laughter gives you the hint that he’s already spotted it.

“Does that upset you?”

You keep your eyes shut, trying to stifle your smile, “Immensely.”

And there is another beat of silence before the two of you are laughing together. Yoongi flattens his palms on your legs, rubbing them gently in an effort to soothe them.

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He concedes, his tone thoroughly amused, “And you?”

Your teeth are on your bottom lip then, trying to stifle yet another smile, “Not long before you first arrived at my village.”

Yoongi is pinching the skin of your calf playfully as an affronted scoff leaves his lips, “I see what you mean now, that is a truly upsetting answer.”

At long last you open your eyes and, the two of you regard each other for only a moment before you’re laughing again. It feels quite juvenile to jest about something like this but to you, it’s merely a testament of your comfort around Yoongi.  

“I guess it sounds odd on my end though, doesn’t it? Since I’ve been so insistent on waiting with you...”

You shake your head, “I don’t think so. I never assumed you insisted on waiting because you were protecting a virtue of some kind. You are a 28-year-old man, it would be silly of me to think that you hadn’t taken a partner before.”

“Taking a partner sounds far too intimate...” He retorts, “...my reputation caused many people to throw themselves at me in attempt to satisfy some sort of fantasy. Occasionally, my physical needs made me privy to their advances. But, that’s all it ever amounted to.”

It does sadden you that people interacted with Yoongi in this way. If they had taken just a moment to get to know him, they would have discovered someone worth spending their time on. In your case, spending a life time with...

You’re adjusting your position so that you’re able to get closer to him. With your feet off of his lap, you move across the seat until you sitting right beside him. His arm immediately positions itself around your shoulders, hugging you against him whilst your fingers venture towards the free hand now resting in his lap. Silently, you run your fingers over his skin, not missing the way his breathing shifts as you do.

“I am exceptionally grateful that you allowed me to get to know you. I don’t think I could have been this happy with anyone else.”

Your voice is smaller than normal and, it makes Yoongi feel warm inside, his head cocking in such a way to signal that he wants you to look at him.

“The pleasure has been all mine, ma’am- I can assure you.”

He leans into to kiss you then, barely capturing your lips before he’s pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. In the small beat of silence, you choose to utter the words you’ll be saying every chance you get for the rest of your life,

“I love you.”

And with a brilliant smile and, a kiss to your nose, he is whispering, “I love you too.”

On the rest of the journey, Yoongi updates you on the status of the rest of his battalion:

Seokjin, as he mentioned earlier, is making arrangements to move into the royal palace as he will be taking the coveted position of the royal advisor to the Queens. Yoongi also explains that he will likely take a partner in the coming years and, that his family will be well-taken care of for generations to come.

Namjoon returned to his home village to reconnect with his beloved, Danielle. The two of them plan to move towards the ocean and, raise a family there. Yoongi explains that it will likely be awhile until he sees him again but, that you both can expect a wedding invitation in the next year or so.

As for Jimin and Taehyung- they will be following a similar path that you and Yoongi are. Their villa is positioned deep in the forest, even further from civilization than the one you’re headed to. The last thing Jimin said to Yoongi when they parted ways was that he plans on dropping by once every other month to catch up, emphasizing how much he would miss him.

Hoseok’s status was somewhat of a mystery and, Yoongi smirks with a sense of fascination as he explains where he might be. Years ago, Hoseok met a woman who matched his skill with a bow and arrow. She lived in a village not far from yours and, takes a rather firm position against any kind of authority. Hoseok took a liking to her attitude and, challenged her to a marksmen competition. She won. Naturally, Hoseok was both wounded and intrigued by this woman and, Yoongi suspects that they had been lovers for quite some time until his battalion eventually had to move on. Her name was Orion, just like the constellation and, Yoongi bets all the gold in his possession that Hoseok disappeared to look for her.

The ride to Yoongi’s villa comes to an end nearly half a day later and, you’re asleep on his lap when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“We’re here, darling.”

And here you most certainly were.

Beyond a massive wooden gate laid the most beautiful structure you had ever seen. The villa sits proudly in the middle of a massive stretch of emerald grass with an array of flowers blooming around the perimeter of the cherry oak that winds in intricate patterns up into strong pillars. The windows are tan and, made of a screen like material which is intended to keep pests out of the home. There is a pond just off to the side, which you are eager to explore later and, a balcony facing the right side of the forest. Yoongi had not exaggerated when he said that the villa was quite far from civilization for the backdrop of the scene before you were the mountains themselves, enormous and calm as they loom over the property.

Everything inside Yoongi’s villa was a brand of luxury you had never known: art, elaborate furniture, plumbing, and more space than you knew what to do with. Still however, it was uniquely Yoongi in that it was comforting.

It felt like home.

He explains some of the interior to you as he leads the way to his bedroom. He mentions that you can get comfortable and put your feet up while he checks the perimeter; something he says to expect every night.

Old habits die hard.

With a kiss, he opens the door for you and, promises he will return in shortly.

His bedroom, or our bedroom as he had called it, matched the rest of the villa. It was quaint but clearly displayed his immense wealth as he had an enormous bed in the center of the room covered in likely expensive linens. The windows were all shuttered for now, the only light coming from the lanterns hanging by the door and the entrance to the balcony.

Whilst Yoongi is checking the perimeter, you figure you only have a few minutes to prepare before he returns. Rushing over to your trunk, you settle beside it on your knees as you rifle through your belongings, looking for the one article you had been saving specifically for this evening. Tucked into the bottom, much neater than the rest of your items is a sapphire robe made from the finest silk your village offered. You had been working on it slowly every since Yoongi had left, preparing for the night when you two were finally alone.

You were buzzing with anticipation as you take off your clothes, neatly folding them and setting them aside. Then the cool silk is drawn over your body before you secure it with the tie just above your belly button.

With a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you pad over to the end of his bed and, take a seat upon the cream-colored linen. The rain begins marching prominently upon the outside of the villa bringing a cold breeze through the cracks in the shutters. The glow of the lanterns placed at the entrance of the chamber throw shadows onto the tile floor, entertaining you for only a moment until the creaking sound of the door grabs your attention.

Yoongi enters the room, not looking up as he relays the findings of his perimeter check, “Other than a few rabbits, the coast is clear and, I think after all my years of training I can handle-“ He is in the middle of this joke when he looks up at you, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes darkening as they trail over your figure.

It seems like forever before he says something, his body simply frozen by the door, unable to do much else aside from staring at you.

“I don’t remember you packing that…” He breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

“That’s because I hid it from you intentionally.” A nervous but sly smile comes across your lips, your hands sliding over the tops of your thighs, smoothing down the robe for the millionth time, “Do you like it?”

He’s shaking his head, his lips kissing his teeth, as he steps just a little bit closer to you, “That’s really not the proper word to use…”

“Well-“ You swallow, standing up from your position on the bed, eyes searching for his, “You are free to use whatever words you’d like…”

“I’ve suddenly forgotten most of the words I know, unfortunately.” He counters, his eyes darting from you to the floor multiple times before finally focusing on your face. And he’s shaking his head all over again, a sort of desperate look in his eyes, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

The sincerity in his tone takes your breath away but, you do everything you can to hold his gaze, trying to beckon him toward you, “I want you to see all of me.” Your hands are moving towards the tie that’s concealing you from him but, when you’re about to undo it, his voice stops you.

“Wait-“ He pleads, hands lingering out in front of him, “May I?”

You try your best to swallow but, the sheer look of desire in his eyes is removing all moisture from your mouth. Nodding, you hold a hand out to him, your fingers wiggling to beckon him toward you.

He finally seems to thaw out his frozen posture, heeding the gesture of your hand and, closing the distance between you. Almost involuntarily, he leans down and places a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips are dry, almost sticking to yours as he pulls away.

He’s nervous.

You both are.

But at the same time, you feel so incredibly at ease. There is a sense of peace between you now and, even though you’re about to experience something incredibly intense, you are both finally free from the bonds of the outside world.

Now, it is only the two of you and, all the unresolved passion that needs tending to.

Yoongi leans his forehead against your own, his hands slowly moving towards the tie at the center of your robe. You can see that they are unstable, the breath that leaves his nose is proof of that but, he continues forth anyway until his fingers are beneath the bow.

“You’re sure?” He whispers, his breath hot on your lips, making you want to kiss him all over again.

Your hands come up then, cupping either side of his face as you pull away, eyes desperately searching his own, “Certain.”

With your confirmation, he pulls the tie forward, drawing the robe apart and revealing your bare body to him. You never allow your eyes to leave his face, wanting to capture every bit of his reaction.

When you come into view, his expression seems to collapse slightly, his lips immediately parting in awe. Doing the impossible, he tries to swallow again when you use your fingers to slide the robe the rest of the way off.

And without saying a single word, he drops to his knees right in front of you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. Looking up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief, entirely overwhelmed by your beauty.

“There isn’t a battle in the world that could have prepared me for you.”

His words knock the wind from your chest, your breath leaving your lips in an unstable burst when your hand comes out to touch his cheek. When you do, he smiles, with nothing but bliss present in his expression. He turns his face so that he can press his lips into your palm a few times before rubbing his mouth over the area. Your other hand comes into play then, brushing over the clips in his hair and then allowing your fingers to slide down the length of his ponytail.

Right before he speaks again, he drags his lips to your wrist and, nibbles at the skin there, his grin broadening when he hears the change in your breathing, “Will you take my hair down for me, darling?”

His request is nearing the likeness of a coo. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before but, you now know you’d do anything if he asked you with this voice.

You pull your hand from his face and, allow it to join your other one in gently removing the accessories in Yoongi's hair. They might add a level of luxury to his look but, you know for a fact you prefer him without them.

He is beautiful without any embellishments.

When you start on undoing the elaborate work in his hair, he rests his chin just beneath your belly button and, simply stares up at you. The intensity of his gaze actually makes your cheeks hot but, you do your best to continue taking down his hair, scratching at his scalp once you’re finished removing the clips.

His eyes close as you do, a low hum resonating in his throat at the sensation. Yoongi’s hands begin moving down the sides of your body whilst his lips pepper kisses all along your stomach. They’re wet and lacking urgency and, they send a wave of pleasure directly between your thighs.

“Your hair is so beautiful- you'll have to let me practice my skills on it one day...” You murmur with a smile, letting out a sigh as he takes a bite out of your hip.

“You may do whatever you wish with me...” Yoongi smirks, sponging his lips down towards the ache between your leg, “For however long you wish.”

“I wish to undress you-” You reply, coaxing his gaze up towards you, “and then maybe have a turn on my knees...”

At your comment, Yoongi takes another bite out of your hip, his eyes blazing with lust. And almost defiantly, he begins kissing towards the tuft of hair between your legs, his tongue licking and just barely tasting the skin above your core.

Your fingers are back in his hair when he buries his face in yours and, you hear him inhale deeply before exhaling with a groan.

“You smell so good…” He nearly whines, kissing over the mound of your pussy, “…wont you wait your turn? I want to taste you first.”

And it’s so unbelievably lewd isn’t it?

The two of you had only pecked each other’s lips and, your lover is still completely dress and yet, he is begging to bury his head between your legs.

“Before you’ve undressed?” You tease, trying to maintain some level of sanity but, the way he’s looking at you is making that an impossible feat.

He looks absolutely maddened.

His response comes in the form of his tongue, licking over the top of you whilst his hands grip the outside of your thighs to coax them apart.

“Do you want me to starve?” He accuses, a sense of darkness in his eyes. Before you’re able to answer, he licks up the length of your pussy, his fingers pressing into your flesh, “Hm?”

The lust that’s running through your body is peaking at dangerous levels from his touch but, the way he’s talking to you is sending you into frenzy.

You feel like you’re going to explode.

“No, of course n-“

He cuts you off then, his eyes nearly black with desire, “Then let me eat.”

Your head is on the pillows seconds later with Yoongi nudging your legs apart so that he can situate himself between them. The silk of his own robes tease across the surface of your sensitive skin with every movement of his body. He still seems to be taking in the rest of you with hungry eyes but, as soon as he uses his hands to part your legs, his gaze turns ravenous.

Bared before him, you can feel how wet you are when the cold air of the room hits the moisture between your lips. You’re positively drenched and, he hasn’t even touched you yet.

This fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi who is now smirking darkly betwixt your thighs. He says nothing as his index finger draws a line straight down the center of your pussy before curling towards himself as he follows it back up, collecting the evidence of your arousal.

Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way you’ve drenched his finger but, he emphasizes the visual by rubbing his index against the tip of his thumb, only to pull them apart and display your arousal drawing a string between them.

Yoongi stares at you with slight quirk to his lips as he raises his fingers to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking each of his digits until his cheeks hollow out, his eyes closing at the taste of you.

Your cunt quivers at the sight of him, mouth parted in disbelief at how unbelievably good he looks.

When he pulls his lips from his fingers, he allows the smirk to form on his mouth once again before whispering, “Oh- I’m going to devour you.”

And then his head is buried between your thighs.

Yoongi’s tongue moves with contradiction, like lightening and mud all at once. He traces the tip of it around the circumference of your clit slowly but, sucks it into his mouth with fervor. In an effort to torture you with pleasure, he never does one movement for too long, knowing that this would draw you to your end far too quickly.

You can feel your breath leaving your lips at an unstable rate, your fingers searching for something to grasp onto. Yoongi has this covered of course, his hands reaching for yours before resting both of your intertwined digits on your hips.

His tongue continues to explore each fold of you. It’s as if he were collecting every ounce of moisture from your cunt before becoming determined to make you to make it all over again.

When Yoongi is satisfied with cleaning you up, he sets his sights on your clit, his tongue licking over the throbbing bundle of nerves three times before releasing his grip on of your hands and, placing one atop his head.

With an adoring glance, he slurs, “Use my mouth, darling. Show me how you like it…”

His gesture makes you let out a breath you had been unconsciously holding, your grip tightening in his hair at his request.

The sensation sends a shiver down his spine that he most certainly plans on addressing later. For now however, he is preoccupied with learning how you like to cum.

You tug his hair gently so his mouth his back over your clit and, slowly you move his head up and down. Ever the fast learner, he quickly picks up on the pattern you want and begins licking his tongue over the throbbing muscle.

The relief that comes with consistent pleasure finally pulls a moan from your lips, to which Yoongi immediately mirrors between your legs. You find yourself parting your legs further, your hips angling up to get closer to his mouth which only causes him to increase the pressure of his tongue.

The pleasure is mounting inside of your stomach like a hurricane and, for some buried reason, you bite your lip to attempt from crying out. Yoongi stops what he is doing and pulls his lips from you, which are completely soaked with your arousal.

His brows are drawn together in disappointment, his hair tickling your thighs as he shakes his head, “Oh please…let it out my love, no one can hear you but me.”

He pulls his tongue up the length of your clit slowly, his gaze nearly predatory as he reinforces his request, “Won’t you sing for me, darling?”

You nod, licking over your lips as you guide his mouth back to your cunt. He seems to work twice as hard now, flattening his tongue as he continues to rub it against your clit.

The muscles within your core are fluttering inside of you, your orgasm not far from reality. At Yoongi’s pleading you allow yourself to be more vocal, whimpering his name when he sucks at your clit.

He groans again at the sound of it, his fingers digging into your hips for the moment and then, suddenly pulling back. Eyes locking with yours, his wet lips get to work on lubricating his digits before positioning them at your entrance.

Yoongi licks his lips and, with a salacious look he says, “Deep breath…”

And try as you might, the feeling of his fingers curling up inside of you, yank the breath you attempt to take right from your throat.

“Ah-“ You preen, leaning up on your elbows to watch him fuck you with his fingers, “Oh Yoongi…yoongi…”

He grins up at you, securing his fingertips against the spongy tissue you inside of you whilst his other hand comes down to rub at your clit, “I shall ban anyone else from uttering my name, only you know how to say it correctly.”

With the increase in speed and pressure, you can feel something mounting inside of you that you’ve never felt before. You don’t quite know what it is, you just know that you’re going to make a mess.

Slightly panicky, your shaky hand reaches out for him, “These are clean linens…I feel like I’m going to soil them.”

The breathy and desperate nature of your tone goes straight to Yoongi’s throbbing erection but, instead of burying myself in you as he wants to, he merely increases the pace of his fingers.

“They will be much cleaner if you do, my love.” He assures you, his voice nearly cooing, “Just remember to say my name.”

His right hand is massaging against your clit at the perfect pace as his fingers curl up harder inside of you. The squelching sounds from your body would normally embarrass you under different circumstances but now, the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to care.

“Oh- oh Yoongi…yoongi…” You whine, your back arching off the bed as the dams inside of you break, your orgasm gushing out of your cunt in a way it never has. And although you can’t see him because your eyes are screwed shut, you feel Yoongi’s breath grow closer to your core until his mouth is back on your clit.

“Yoongi!” You whimper, toes curling into the sheets as he draws the pleasure from you.

He groans against you once again, his tongue repeating the same pattern you showed him earlier until you are shivering mess beneath him. Once he can sense you growing sensitive, he gets to work at slurping up every ounce of your release. His lips are sucking at your folds, your entrance, the inside of your thighs, nibbling and licking up every single thing you gave him.

With spotty vision, you anxiously reach down for him, suddenly despising the distance between you. He takes notice instantly, crawling up the length of your body and, placing kisses on every bit of you that he can.

Yoongi’s hair forms a platinum curtain around your head, which closes quickly when you grip the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. You meet each other’s lips with a type of hunger you now fear that you could never satisfy, tongues intertwining with desperation.

Ever so tenderly however, Yoongi his cupping your cheek and whispering sentiments to ease your overstimulated body.

“Shhh it’s ok, its ok my love.”

“You did so well.”

“You fed me so well.”

“I love you- I love you so much…”

With each phrase, he seals it with a kiss, the rest of his body settling between your legs and its then you are reminded that he is still clothed and, desperately hard.

“I love you too.” You whisper shakily against his lips, “I want to see you, I want to please you now…”

You’re practically begging, filled with disdain that his body is hidden from you, especially after you’ve just cum all over his face.

And he’s grinning against your lips, a rather sly look twinkling in his eyes, “And how do you plan on pleasing me?” He hums, kissing up the length of your nose.

“Well…” You begin, allowing a hand to travel down the black silk adorning his body before finding the solid length of his cock, leaning away from his hips. Smirking softly, you place your palm against him, relishing in the way he twitches up towards it, “You said you’d give me your soul didn’t you? I want it down my throat first.”

Your comment causes him to groan, hips pushing forward against your hand as he furrows his brow. Almost frantically, he stares down at you and shakes his head, “I know you think of me as a strong man but, I don’t think I could contain myself if you put your mouth on me- not with the taste of you still on my lips.”

Using your hand, you encase his length in the silk of his pants, squeezing gently as you move it up towards the tip of him. And you have his head hanging on his shoulders now, arms trembling beside your head whilst he tries to hold himself together.

“I don’t remember asking you to contain yourself. Those have always been barriers you designed.”

Yoongi looks up at you, eyes drawn in with a mix of pleasure and apprehension. When you squeeze him again, he shivers, a wanton groan leaving his lips. When he opens his eyes again, they look more nervous than when he stood before you at the end of the bed. In fact, it’s a look that you’ve never really seen before.

It compels your hand away from him slowly as your other one comes to cup his face, “What’s wrong?”

He breathes out a laugh, his mouth turned up at the corner, “Why is it that you can always find your way into my head and yet, I can never find my way into yours?”

You ignore his attempt to lighten the mood, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek, “Yoongi- what is it?”

The tone of your voice is gentle but, the look in your eyes compels Yoongi to bear his truth, no more how vulnerable he feels.

“My body is-” He sighs and restarts his sentence, leaning his face into your hand, “The last battle, it left me with many injuries. Most of them have healed but, I don’t want them to startled you.”

You sit up then, causing him to take a seat on the backs of his legs. Unable to help your saddened expression, you simply shake your head, “Yoongi, the only thing your body can be is beautiful. You have laid your life on the line for the people of this land, myself included. I could only ever love everything about the body that brought you home to me.”

With glassy eyes Yoongi is reaching out for you, placing a searing kiss upon your lips and, through it he murmurs “I have never let anyone undress me before…”

You kiss him once more and pull away a bit to lock eyes with him, “Do you trust me?”

And looking like a much younger man, his wide-eyed gaze full of innocence he nods, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “You’re the only one.”

His response accounts for several sentiments. His trust, his love, his dedication…

All meant for you.

“May I undress you then?”

His answer comes in the form of another kiss, lips attaching to yours with passion as his hands reach out for your fingers. He leads them to front of his robe, which covers the length of his tunic and his pants and urges you to remove it from him. Taking his lead, you push the material from his shoulders and, allow it to drop behind him before finding your way to the hem of his tunic.

The two of you find each other's eyes once again whilst you slowly draw the material up his torso. He follows your motions, lifting his arms above his head and placing them back by his sides when his tunic is removed.

The first thing you notice is his hair, flowing in prominent waves down his chest and, stopping just above his belly button. Then come his arms, strong and lanky all at once, much of their surface littered with the evidence of his missions. You can see what he meant and, you try to control your expression when you gaze upon the bruises and, cuts that have yet to heal.

You want to scold him for not acknowledging his injuries earlier so, that you could tend to them. But, you can clearly see that they have been taken care of by someone with much more skill.

His eyes are on you, searching for any sign of disapproval, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He wish you could hear what you are thinking.

But just then, a soft smile comes over your lips as you carefully take his chin betwixt your fingers, “Just as I thought- you are molded from the gods, Min Yoongi. There has never been a man who contained more beauty.”

Your words hit his heart like a dagger, some of the air nearly forced out of his lungs. And he’s wanting to kiss you again, his lips desperately chasing yours before your hand comes to rest on his chest.

“Easy tiger…” You giggle, causing his lips to twitch into a smile, “I haven’t finished yet…”

He eases up, moving back into place with both of you still on your knees, facing one another. With tender hands, you move the tendrils of hair from his chest so that they flow freely down his back. His chest is fully exposed to you now, the swollen muscles beneath his pecks also displaying traces of the life he has lived.

Of the life he is finally able to leave behind.

Now, with just your fingertips, you trail your them across his clavicle, stopping for a moment at the ball of his shoulders before trailing them all the way to his wrists. A prominent shiver rattles through him, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to reach out and touch you.

But he doesn’t.

He stays perfectly still with only his eyes falling shut as you explore the surface of his skin. You take your time, dipping your fingers into the lines of his muscles, tracing the maze of veins beneath his skin, and smoothing your palms across the tops of his shoulders.

He’s properly turning to mush when you whisper, “Lay down…”

Like a man bewitched, he feels the urge to obey every command that comes from your lips and, commit every statement you make to memory.

He pushes his hair back, allowing it to settle on the pillows in various directions. And beneath you now, with his arms outstretched above his head, he looks like a king.

A sort of curve settles on his mouth when you position yourself between his thighs and, although he may look strong and confident beneath you, you can’t hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest.

Sex is familiar to Yoongi.

Intimacy however, is not.

Smoothing your palms down the muscles in his stomach, you use your fingers to hook under the band of his pants.

“You might need to help me with this part.” You smile and it only broadens as he chuckles, lifting his butt in the air and maneuvering his body so that he can help you pull the material down his legs.

Settling back into his position, Yoongi takes a deep breath whilst you take in the sight of him. He’s so hard. The skin of his dick, reddening towards the tip, the veins winding patterns up his shaft, the whole length of him begging to be touched.

“My, my- so the rumors are true…” You muse, slowly tickling your fingers up his inner thighs, which send his dick twitching in response.

His brow is furrowed however, wondering what you’re getting at and, you answer him before he ends up asking you.

“You do keep a viper on you at all times.”

And for the first time this evening, he is laughing. The full bellied and rickety sound leaves his lips as he wipes a hand over his face.

“You are incorrigible.”

His tone is disapproving but, his eyes are still filled to the brim with adoration. Because of course you would make this so easy for him.

Of course you would make love so easy.

All of his fears seem to mean nothing when he is with you, even when he is at his most vulnerable like he is now.

“And you, my dear Yoongi-“ Your tone lowers a bit as your brush your fingers over his balls, smirking when you see his chest puff out, “-are beautiful.”

With that, you lean down and lick slowly up the length of his cock, collecting the bit of precum that has collected on the tip. He tastes like the salt of the earth and, with that small bit of him- you now find yourself craving so much more.

His lips part, a sharp breath leaving the confines of his throat, his fingers quickly rushing to the sheets in anticipation. It’s been nearly half a year since he received any sort of pleasure from another person but, seeing as it’s now coming from the woman he loves, he is overwhelmed.

You are licking up the length of him again, your ass sticking up there for him to gaze upon as you slowly encircle his throbbing dick in your palm.

He is melting.

With his chest rising and falling unsteadily, Yoongi’s stare blazes right through you, when you suck him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck-“ He swears under his breath, the sound of that word coming from his lips sending an ache back to your core. You start him out slow, your cheeks hollowing out with the force of the suction you’re providing him.

His fingers toy helplessly with the linen beside him, the pleasure from your mouth numbing the tips of his toes.

With your free hand, you cup his balls, sighing through your nose at the almost desperate groan that leaves his mouth. He looks beautiful, his lips parted, stomach caved in at the pleasure he’s experiencing, his hands fisting in the sheets beside him.

“’sso good…” His brow is furrowed now, hips jolting a bit when you take him deeper towards your throat, “Be c- careful love, I don’t want to hurt you…”

But you don’t listen and, instead you continue your motions, your two fingers pressing behind his balls as you attempt to swallow his length.

“A-ah…” He throws his hand over his mouth, still slightly apprehensive at the sounds he wishes to make. You watch him as he breaths through the gaps in his fingers, eyes squeezing shut whilst you take him further down your throat.

He moans into his hand, his toes curling into the linen. And to address his attempt to conceal his sounds of pleasure, you simply walk your fingers across his trembling stomach and tap lightly.

Instinctually, he looks down at you- nearly cumming when you suck off of his length, your lips swollen and covered in saliva which you then spit back down on his dick.

Rubbing your lips against the sensitive underside of him, you coo, “We’re the only ones out here, my love. Let it out…”

He leans down, rubbing his thumb over your lips for the moment as he nods rapidly before allowing his head to hit the pillow again.

Chest heaving, he tries to prepare himself for your mouth all over again but, fails miserably. The pleasure is just so intense.

You waste no time in easing him back into your mouth, paying careful attention to relax your throat. He is confident, even in all of his years of sexual exploration, that he has never felt like this before.

He feels like he barely has a grip on his sanity and, when you take him down your throat- he has no choice but to whimper.

The sound only encourages you, your eyes unable to leave him as you watch his nipples harden, his stomach cave again, his eyes roll back…

“Fucking- fuck…fuck fuck…” He mutters through gritted teeth before his mouth parts again, “Please- don’t stop.”

Fucking him into your throat is no easy feat but, the sheer state of ecstasy he seems to be in, allows you to continue.

You rub at his hips, attempting to sooth him, your motions on his dick now becoming hands-free as his hips start pumping at their own pace. Despite the burn in your throat, you don’t ease up, wanting to see him overcome with the sensations, wanting to please him completely…

He shakes his head, eyes blown out and searching for an explanation as to why it feels so good but, he comes up empty.

Its just you.

Yoongi slams his head against the pillows, exposing his Adams apple when he swallows back the scream that wants to leave his chest. But when he feels his balls tighten and throb with his impending orgasm, he caresses your cheek.

“Please, my love- wait a moment…please…” He’s only pleading because it’s the only thing that can properly leave his mouth right now, for your motions on him have left him bewildered.

You’re careful to suck off of him cleanly, kissing the tip of his dick as you bat your eyes at him, “Are you alright?”

He’s smirking now, and a breathless laugh comes from his lips, “I think you’re well aware of how I’m doing.”

You giggle at his comment, kissing his dick again before resting your cheek upon his hip, “Then what is it?”

And with that same rather innocent, slightly humble look in his eye, he confesses, “I’ve always pictured being inside of you…the first time.”

In his earnest and rather proper way of explaining himself, you are simply taken over by your love for him.

He looks at you as if he is asking for the world but, little did he know- you would think nothing of giving him such a thing.

You’re kissing his hip now and starting a trail up his naked body. His hands come to life beside you and take their time caressing over your skin.

One last trail is place up the valley of his chest before your lips are hovering over his.

“Then be inside me.” You whisper into his mouth, sucking the bottom half of it into yours.

A deep growl resonates within his chest and, the next thing you know he is flipping you over, arms placed on either side of your head as he reconnects your lips.

Wildly, he kisses at you, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a somewhat disorganized fashion, neither of you concerned with rhythm at this point.

Yoongi is pulling away to take a look at you, silently reassuring himself that this beautiful creature below him, desires him too.

It’s slightly hard to wrap his brain around.

But as you raise your middle finger to the scar marring his right eye, you are breaking down the last of his concerns. He closes his lids beneath your touch, his chest tightening as you whisper,

“No more wounds, my love. I will make sure you feel only pleasure for the rest of your life.”

With a last and exasperated sigh, Yoongi guides himself inside of you in one quick motion.

“Oh-“ He breathes, his eyes widening as he chokes back a moan.

Your own moan is forced from your chest, Yoongi’s rhythm not giving you a chance to last very long.

He presses his forehead against yours, his mouth hanging open even as you kiss at it, hips quickening with each thrust inside of you.

“I love you.” You moan, whilst your hands come up to secure themselves behind his neck.

He is hurling towards his release so quickly, he fears the intensity of it, but the only thing he can tangibly focus on is confessing his love to you over and over.

“I will l-love you forever, it is a-all I will ever do for the rest of m-my life…”

Even as he stumbles over his words, his eyes never leave yours, pouring all of the emotion he feels into his movements.

He pours and he pours…

And you drink and you drink…

Until there is nothing left to do but surrender to one another.

The first rope of his release leaves his body with a jolt, his hips jerking forward and, immediately his eyes screw shut, his face burying into your neck.

You rub his back, kissing all along the side of his face as another hot spurt of cum leaves his cock.

“Oh Y/N…” He whines finally, sounding in pain and relieved all at once, “Y/N…Y/N…Y/N…”

He calls your name over and over and, somewhere along the edges of bliss, you tip over the edge too, digging your nails into his back as you do.

You seem to take turns saying the name of one another, the two of you riding out your highs for as long as possible until finally, your lover collapses on top of you.

In the stillness of the night, the only sound either of you allow is the rainfall atop the roof and, the whispering sound of your breathing.

For awhile, you just trace shapes into the skin of Yoongi’s back as his lips sponge into your neck and across your shoulder, or any part of you that he can reach. Moments later, his concern for his bodyweight upon you takes precedence and, he finally rolls over, the two of you wincing at the loss of contact.

You quickly take your place atop his chest as he leans over to the bedside table and, grabs the goblet of water waiting there. There was one on either side when you came in and, you assumed the staff had put them there.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and, attempts to steady his hand as he brings the goblet towards you but, to no avail.

His hand continues to shake.

Placing your hand around his, you try to assist him as a soft bout of laughter leaves your lips, “You’re trembling.”

And with waves of messy hair framing his beautiful face, he simply grins and corrects you, “I am in love.”

He raises the glass to your lips and, admires you when you take several big gulps, feeling good that he is able to take care of you.

His reply sends butterflies into your stomach, which seems like a rather impossible feat considering the fact that they had taken up a permanent residence there months ago.

When the Tiger moved into your life…

You usher the glass towards his lips with a soft smile, feeling so much happiness at the peace present in his eyes.

“As I’m I.” You whisper, rubbing your hand over his hip as he drinks the rest of the water in the goblet. There is also a sense of exhaustion in his gaze however and, you are met with the reminder that he probably hasn’t slept properly in months.

Your telepathy pays off once more as Yoongi addresses the heaviness upon his lids.

“I always pictured this to end with one of our elaborate existential conversations…” He chuckles softly, laying back on the pillow. Before he continues, he is reaching up to brush his thumb over your lips, “…but I do believe you’ve drained me of energy for now, my girl.”

A kiss is placed against his thumb, “Sleep now. We have plenty of time to question our existence.”

Yoongi chuckles again, using the hand that’s on your face to pull you closer to him. He kisses you one last time, ensuring that it reaches your soul before he’s puling you beneath the covers with him.

The last thing you remember before drifting off is another exchange of those three words.

The three words you would never grow tired of saying.

Yoongi sleeps well past sunrise. His chest rises steadily beneath your head for the better part of the morning and, although you want to wait it out, your desire to see the view from the balcony finally overtakes you.

You’re careful not to wake the sleeping man beneath you as you slip out of his grip. And as you’re pulling on the silk robe he had left discarded the night before, you take the time to admire him. Cheeks puffed out, lips pouted, brow smoothed over, none of his features containing a single ounce of worry…

You planned on keeping him this content for as long as you both shall live.

The mid-morning air was cold but, it felt nice upon your skin. Sleeping with Yoongi was new and, you now know that he emits as much body heat as a fully grown bear.

Or a Tiger…depending on who you ask…

This of course is wonderful, especially given how harsh winter can get but, you were growing quite warm beneath his arm.

The balcony was simple. It was painted the same color as the rest of the villa: a deep cherry red and, other than a few plants in the right corner, there was nothing else aside from the view.

Overlooking the grounds of the villa, the balcony displayed all of the elaborate architecture as well as the natural aspects of the grounds themselves. You set your eyes on the mountains to the left of you and, are overcome with excitement at the thought of them being covered in snow.

A hawk flies high above your head, his call echoing off every surface around of the villa, connecting the two of you for that single moment. As your eyes move to admire the thick expanse of trees before you, a pair of strong silk-covered arms wrap around your waist.

And normally, you would jump in surprise but, this time you don’t.

You could sense him staring at you for quite a while now but, rather than disturb him, you just let him have his moment.

Most of your moments would be spent staring at him if you had it your way.

“I had feared for a moment that I had only dreamt of you again…”

The tone of his morning voice is much deeper and covered in gravel, the sound sending a shiver through you. You lean back against him, lips curving up in a smile.

“We are finally alone, General Min.” You assure him softly, rubbing over his forearms. He kisses up your neck, causing your eyes to shut, just basking in the feeling of him.

Of the man you love.

“Well-“ And you can hear the grin in his voice, “Not completely alone.”

You open your eyes, confused by his response but as you try and look back at him, he is jerking his head towards the trees. At first you are confused by the amazed expression on his face but, when you see the mix of orange and black moving through the forest in the distance, you gasp in understanding.

“Is that?”

“A tiger?” He chuckles and when you look back once more, to confirm your suspicion, he winks at you, “It most certainly is.”

“Should we be worried?” You breathe, quite amazed yourself. The tiger doesn’t seem agitated from what you can tell, they merely move through the trees slowly- seemingly locked onto a destination.

“No, this one I have seen before.” He replies confidently, “They maintain their distance just fine…” Yoongi pauses for a moment and, then smiles to himself, “Unless of course, he falls in love…then we’ll never get him to leave.”