#these past few months have been of me grabbing white clay between my hands and going

[kiw4]

woah

creativity, love.

[tyonfs]

dress up.

❝ i was trying on something. could you tell me if you like it? ❞

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x reader

WARNINGS ▸ dirty talk, raw sex (pls use protection), overstimulation

WORD COUNT ▸ 2000 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this was a request from anon for a frat boy!mark smut! i sort of ran with it, but i love mark lee so it was fun to write ♡

IN RETROSPECT, MARK WAS A BIT OF A CLICHE.

Being a frat boy, athlete, and unfortunately, a bit of a heartbreaker, it was inevitable that he would be classified as bad news. Add you to the equation and he was the physical manifestation of a typical rom-com trope. He figured it was supposed to be you chasing after him, but the fact that it was the other way around took a slight blow to his confidence.

But that didn’t stop him from pursuing you.

And here he was, anticipating your presence on a Friday night at a frat party. He hung onto some false sense of hope that kept him from consuming any alcohol, despite Taeyong and Johnny’s attempts to get him to drink. You and Mark had been flirting for a while now, but neither of you had made a move on each other. Mark was hoping that would change tonight.

“C’mon, Ma-ark,” his friend, Na Jaemin, slurred. “You gotta let loose. Take a shot with me.”

“Jaemin, you’re sloshed, dude. Also, I won’t until—”

A notification flashed across his phone screen, the banner name displaying your name. Mark’s cheeks heated up, his mouth going dry as he stared at his phone for a moment. He turned it off and then on again, checking to make sure the notification was real. He sank back into the couch to make sure only he had eyes on his phone screen.

you: mark

you: you up?

mark: of course. what’s up?

you: i was trying on something

you: could you tell me if you like it?

mark: oh fuck

mark: yeah, go ahead

A few minutes passed by and Mark’s heart was racing. He stared at the texts again, wondering if this was really happening, then cringing at the realization that he had actually sent an “oh fuck” when it was supposed to be confined to his thoughts. Without giving Mark any warning or time to brace himself, you sent the picture.

There was something about mirror pictures that drove Mark crazy. Seeing you posing in front of a full-length mirror with black lingerie hugging your curves and a mini pleated skirt that barely covered the swell of your ass was giving him a hard-on. He wasn’t sure he could contain himself and this shocking development between you two was messing with him.

Mark grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it shamefully on his lap. No one was paying attention to him anyways, but he had to take extra precautions.

mark: fuck are you wearing that rn?

mark: god, you’re driving me crazy

you: if that’s the case then why don’t you come over?

mark: now?

you: you know where my apartment is

you: i’ll be waiting ♡

Mark got up in an instant and made his way to the door. He had to have saved someone in his past life for this sort of luck. He was caught up in disbelief that you, the girl of his dreams, had made a move on him. There were plenty of girls that Mark had gotten caught up with in the past, but none of them had ever made his heart race like you did.

Johnny stopped Mark before he got to the door, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, where are you running off to?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot to ask.” Mark grinned, insufferably cocky. “Do you have a condom?”

Johnny’s eyes practically sparkled, digging into his pockets upon his best friend’s request. “Attaboy.”

You looked straight out of one of Mark’s fantasies when you opened the door and let him in. It wasn’t even the short skirt or the lingerie peeking through that got to him. What sent him over the edge was Mark’s sweater over your body; it was oversized on you, but Mark knew it looked better on you than it ever could on him. Mark had given it to you a few weeks ago when you were cold, but he never expected to be the one taking it off of you.

“Hey, frat boy,” you teased, then pouted lightly. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

Mark snapped out of his daze and walked in the apartment as you closed the door behind him. “Wait?”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and Mark took the cue. He grabbed the back of his shirt at the nape, tugging it off and tossing it to some corner of the room, exposing his bare chest and abs. He let out a hiss through gritted teeth as you ran your hands down his chest and to his belt.

“Wait for me,” you explained. “I just wanted to get you so worked up so you could ruin me.”

That was all Mark needed to hear.

He picked you up effortlessly and brought you to your bed, dropping you down on it and crawling on top of you. He caged your frame with his larger one and crashed his lips onto yours. It was messy and rushed, but so full of passion and longing. Mark poured out his emotions and frustration into kissing you, running his hands down your gorgeous body as you arched your back against him.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” he growled when he pulled from the kiss, moving his lips down to your neck. When he heard a soft moan escape your lips, he started sucking harsher, blooming dark hickies along the side of your neck. “I’m gonna make you wish you never made me wait.”

You wrapped a leg around his torso, which he appreciated, if a smooth roll of his hips was anything to go by. But you wanted more—more contact and more friction. You curled your fingers in his belt loops and pulled him down on you.

Mark sat up, pulling you up along with him. He adored your beauty for a moment before tugging his sweater up and off of you. A grunt escaped his lips at the sight of your body, lace lingerie still hugging it. He stuttered out a curse before he kissed you again, tugging your skirt down your legs, which you kicked off.

“Leave the lingerie on,” he ordered, a hungry look in his eyes. He slid his finger underneath the strap along your thigh and snapped it, making you wince. “I can’t let all your efforts go to waste after you dressed up for me, doll.”

“Please, Mark,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I want you to stuff your cock in me.”

Mark went to take off his pants in less than a second. You watched him strip down, his bulge not doing much to hide the fact that he was huge. You realized that that cockiness of his is completely warranted. You helped him tug his boxers down, a soft gasp escaping your lips when his cock sprung out, slapping against belly.

Mark gazed into your eyes as he slid his hand up your thigh, making his way to the apex of your legs. He tugged your panties to the side, delighted at how it clung to you. He’d truly be a happy man if he could have you underneath him every day for the rest of his life. Mark slid two fingers against your slit, smirking at how wet you were already.

“Is this for me?” he cooed as your hips bucked up into his touch.

You nodded, eager to just have him in you. You were all for foreplay, but your walls were throbbing with how much pent-up sexual frustration you were experiencing. There were so many opportunities after tonight, but right now, you needed Mark.

Mark suspended himself over you, propping himself up with an arm. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and teased your slit with the head of his cock. A whimper escaped your lips.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

You pressed a kiss to the column of his neck. “Of course.”

Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he was nervous. He was about to fuck the girl of his dreams, so how could he possibly be calm? But when you gave him that dazzling smile of yours, his heart thundered in his chest. He needed you.

He slowly entered you, eyes fixed on your face with rapt attention, indulging in the expressions you were making. For someone so sly and teasing, you had become pliant under his grasp, like a handful of clay that Mark could mould into his own liking.

“Mark,” you whined in an almost depraved way.

“Fuck,” he groaned once he was fully inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.

He started at a languid pace so he could adjust to you. To his satisfaction, you were vocal during sex; you moaned, whimpered, and gasped out Mark’s name whenever he thrusted into you. You were also so damn tight that the slightest movement made you tighten around Mark’s cock.

He held your thighs with a bruising grip as you pressed your breasts up against his chest. Your head went fuzzy as Mark pounded into that one spot mercilessly. But god, the way he growled out your name under his breath as your hips slapped against each other each time was sending you over the edge.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of white-hot pain that compelled Mark into thrusting harder into you. He grinned, a little unhinged, and sped up at the encouragement of your moans. The way he looked at you when he thrusted, though, was so fragile; he found you so heartbreakingly gorgeous, and it didn’t help that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

“Mark!” you cried as you were reaching your high.

He could get lost in the way his name tumbled from your lips. He slowed down his thrusts in exchange for deeper ones that brought you closer to your climax. Mark kissed you again, slower and more passionate. It was somewhat out of place given the magnitude of what you two were doing, but it confirmed for you that he didn’t just want you for sex.

You squealed out his name again, the pressure blinding you. You clenched around him as you came undone, shooting stars flashing behind your eyelids. Mark fucked you through your orgasm without any semblance of mercy. You crooned out a few broken moans, eyes half-lidded as you held onto Mark, your release dripping down his cock.

“Look at me,” he ordered, dark eyes clouding over. He could hardly keep his release at bay, but when you looked up at him with those innocent, doe-like eyes, it became impossible. “God, are you even real? You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Mark gritted his teeth, a strangled groan leaving his throat as he pulled out and released over you. His cum spilled over your thighs, staining the lingerie you had worn just for him. Mark was completely out of breath so he collapsed next to you, rolling over so he could hold you in his arms. You happily complied, cuddling up to his warmth.

“Please don’t let that be a one-time thing,” Mark murmured in your ear, brushing aside strands of your hair.

“Maybe if you let me be your girlfriend,” you said with a smile, making Mark go wide-eyed.

“Really?” He couldn’t conceal the happiness behind his words.

“On one condition, though,” you said, closing your eyes as that feeling of his cum between your thighs. You reached for his pants that he had strewn aside beside you and reached into the pocket, pulling out the condom that Johnny had given him. “Use this next time.”

“Shit,” Mark mumbled.

You giggled at his reaction, but Mark only smiled brighter, embracing you tightly in his arms. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, cheek, and then your lips. He was a pure romantic when it came down to it, especially when it came to you.

“I also have a condition,” he said.

“Yeah?” you mused. “What is it?”

“Dress up for me next time.”

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

[mssjynx]

Mic: ON

dreamnap oneshot 3687 words warnings: steamy!!  ao3 link

-

“Sapnap. Don’t send it.”

Dream’s warning voice held a lot more threat than usual coming through Nick’s headset, and he suspected it was because the two now shared a house. He was all too aware of his friend’s presence only two doors down, and had it just been the two of them, Nick probably would have already given in and saved himself an ass kicking. Dream was a noticeable few inches taller than him, and definitely stronger though Nick would never admit it outloud. 

Nick was good at picking his fights.

Or he was, usually. 

But with Dream in one ear, and Quackity, George and Karl in the other, he was tiptoeing the line of a very pissed off Dream. The three idiots had been egging him on for the past half hour, begging him to send the video since the moment he’d mentioned having it. And he wasn’t actually going to send it, he just really enjoyed stirring Dream up and he knew the other three found it just as funny. 

“Sapnap! Sapnap! Sapnap!” Karl’s chanting overlapped the other two voices, Alex making odd monkey sounds as George laughed himself into hysterics. 

“Send it, Sap! You have to show us, you have to.” George’s words were gasped out between wheezes in his comically high-pitched voice that appeared whenever he was losing his mind laughing at something. 

Nick knew that if any of them laid their eyes on the video, they would never ever get over it. 

He’d captured the valuable video the night prior when Dream had overslept an alarm that he’d set for a recording session with the Among Us crowd. When Nick had crept in there to wake him up, a task he dreaded after the first time he’d done it and successfully pissed Dream off for two full days, he had been met with a sight he never thought he’d see. It was too good to resist flicking out his phone and capturing the moment. 

Dream had been splayed out across the bed, three pillows tucked under his back and his head tipped back off the mattress entirely. A trail of dried drool stained his cheek and his slack mouth was releasing a mix of whistling snores and little snuffling sounds as he slept. His fourth pillow was clutched to his chest in a grip that made Nick feel bad for it, white knuckles making Nick gulp as he crept back out of the room and returned to his Discord call to pass on the disappointing news. 

He had intended to keep the video to himself, locked away in his phone for a later day of humiliation. He hadn’t intended that later day to be the day following but he made the mistake of mentioning the beautiful video and it had all gone downhill from there. 

Karl, George and Alex were relentless when they wanted something, and to say they wanted to see this video was a huge understatement. 

“We need to see it, Sapnap, it’s worth the risk! It’s worth it!” Alex pleaded. 

“The risk!?” Nick snorted, offended by the lack of care. “I’m gonna get my teeth kicked in, Quackity! The risk is my impending death.” 

“It’s worth it, it’s worth it!” 

“Vouch!” 

Karl and Alex were a terrible influence on each other. 

“Guys, Dream’s scawy,” Sapnap said, hoping his baby “uwu” voice would soften Dream’s heart. He knew that whether he sent it or not, Dream was going to kill him for taking it in the first place. 

“You haven’t seen ‘scary’,” Dream muttered and Nick shot a weary glance to the door of his office. There wasn’t even a lock. 

George whined, adding his own baby voice to the mix, and Sapnap could practically see the stupid pout he was wearing when he begged, “Please, Sap. He won’t actually kill you!” 

Dream’s scoff was dry and humourless, “Oh, I will,” and Nick could hear the exhaustion that layered his irritation. He’d been up for over twenty hours editing his upcoming video and keeping the guys company in their streams. He knew that Dream was ready to collapse into bed the second he could, but the risk of his pride held enough weight to keep him upright for the time being. 

Nick almost felt bad for him, except he remembered the horrific photo that Dream had shared with their chat less than a month earlier. 

This was only payback; well, it would be if Nick was actually going to send it. But he was better than that, he was the bigger man and he also valued having all of his teeth and an unbroken nose. 

With a sigh, he reached to click delete on the keyboard to remove the video from the textbox. The ominous ‘Sapnap is typing…’ that sat at the bottom of all of their screens had only added to the excitement (and anger), but he knew that they’d had their fun and it was over. When he tried to snatch up his water bottle at the same time, his device unbalanced in his fingers and the thunk of it hitting the carpet was accompanied by the little “shwoop” sound of a message sending. 

Every voice except Dream’s exploded in the call and Nick froze in his chair.

“Oh god,” he whispered, dropping his bottle and scrambling for his phone. “Oh, no, no, no- I didn’t- It was an accident, I dropped my-” His voice was drowned out by Karl and Alex’s cheering, hysterical laughter pouring from George’s end. Dream’s icon vanished from the call and the slam of a door opening reached Nick’s ears.

Dream’s footsteps were loud and angry.  

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” His bedroom door burst open and Nick threw off his headphones, ripping the cord from his PC as he stumbled out of his chair. The look on Dream’s face made Nick genuinely fear for his life as he backed up away from Dream. 

“Oh my God, he’s so cuuuute!” Karl cooed. George howled with laughter. 

Nick had messed up. He had royally screwed himself, and today was the day he was going to die. “Dream, Clay. It was an accident, I was going to delete it and I dropped my phone and- I wasn’t actually going to send it, I swear. I promise. Pinky promise? What if we hug and make up?” Words tumbled off his tongue with panicked desperation but Nick knew a losing fight when he saw it. “Dream?” he tried weakly when Dream stepped forward, but the stoic glare didn’t shift. 

He could hear Alex calling Dream’s name, futile attempts at rescuing Nick from certain death. But the laughter that drowned him out only sealed his fate.

He was completely and totally done. 

Dream lunged for him and an embarrassingly high-pitched scream ripped from Nick’s throat. He bolted to the bed, clambering over the mattress with his eyes on the open door. But his chances were shot when a rough hand grabbed his ankle, yanking him backwards and off balance. His face slammed into the mattress, cutting off his yelp, and he barely managed to squirm over onto his back before Dream pounced. 

“You’re done, Nick,” Dream snarled, and Nick knew that it was his turn to be mortified. He caught Dream by the upper arms, straining as he kept Dream’s hands just inches away from his own shoulders and face. “You’re such an asshole, I told you not to send it!” 

“I told you,” Nick gasped, his arms aching as he turned his face away from Dream’s clawing fingers, “I didn’t mean to!” 

Dream growled, glaring down at Nick for a second before spitting: “Liar.” and throwing his weight to the side. Nick lost his grip and within seconds Dream had hooked an arm around his back, pinning Nick’s head between his arm and his ribs. The wrestling training Sapnap did back in middle school leapt to the front of his mind as he got his arms around Dream’s middle and tried to push him back. They both grunted and yelped, jabbing fingers into sensitive spots and cursing as they wrestled and fought. 

From the computer, the other three were cheering them on, placing bets back and forth. Except they were all betting on Dream and Nick couldn’t even blame them as he scrambled on top of Dream’s back for half a second before he was thrown off.

A jab to his stomach knocked all the air out of him and in seconds he was flat on his back with his arms pinned either side of his head. He gasped for air, face hot and red from exertion as he blinked his dizzy eyes up at Dream. 

He made a weak attempt at getting one leg between him and Dream, hoping to plant a foot to his chest and shove him back, but Dream shoved his knee down into the muscle of Nick’s thigh and a shot of pain at the pressure cut his escape attempt off.

The grin on his face made Nick’s head spin faster, though he didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline that flipped his stomach like a pancake.  

“Dead,” Clay declared, proud and smug as if it was at all a fair fight. He was six foot two for Heaven’s sake. 

“Shut up, you’re such a dick,” Nick spat, craning his head off the mattress. The grip on his wrists tightened and Dream pressed them harder into the mattress, leaning his weight into his knee. Nick yelped in pain, wriggling in a weak attempt of dislodging his roommate. 

Dream scoffed. “Shouldn’t have sent the video, should you?” His sneer was twisted with a satisfied grin and Nick would have been relieved to see that he was more smug than angry if that smile didn’t trigger every fear sensor in Nick’s body. 

“Well, look- Ow- You got me now, so… you don’t have to, uh, kill me or anything! Wouldn’t want you to go to prison now,” he says, awkward chuckle leaving his lips. He hears Karl and George lose it from the computer speakers, quiet but distinct enough to heighten Nick’s irritation. They weren’t helping him at all.  

“No chance.” Dream narrowed his eyes. “I want some sort of compensation. You have to let me post whatever I want from your twitter,” and the crooked grin he wore told Nick that his revenge would be far worse than the five second video of Dream snoring. 

“No way,” he said, shaking his head and yanking on his arms. The taller man leaned his weight onto his wrists and Nick gave up on fighting. “Get off me, Dream.” 

They both ignored the three amigos cheering in the background, this time for Nick’s demise.

Two-faced assholes...

“What’s your password, Nick,” Dream asked, cocking his head to the side with his sly grin. He was, humiliatingly, completely at Dream’s mercy and his stomach twisted at the thought.

It was definitely the first time that they’d been so close to each other; Nick had never been able to see this much detail in Dream’s face. For a moment, he got distracted by the little scar that marred the right side of Clay’s top lip, wondering when and how he’d gotten it. When his lips twitched down into a confused frown, Nick snapped back into the moment with the realisation that he’d been staring at Dream’s mouth. 

He snapped his focus back up to Dream’s eyes, unable to miss the way his brows were creased with thought, and pushed a defensive snarl onto his own mouth as he glared up at Dream. “It’s not happening,” he said bluntly, hoping the embarrassed red of his cheeks could be passed off from their wrestling. 

Dream’s frown deepened with annoyance. “What’s your password, Nick?” he repeated, pressing his thumb hard into the inside of Nick’s wrist. He watched Nick’s face with an intensity that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago, murky green eyes flickering over Nick’s features as searching for something specific. 

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” 

“George, you dick!”

“He’s from Florida, man! He’ll do it!” 

The pressure on Nick’s inner wrist made him grimace and when Nick forced out a rough: “No, Clay,” he squeezed the other wrist harder, pinching the skin. The jolt of pain mixed with the tingle in his fingertips; Nick sucked in a deep breath and bit down hard on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation. 

His train of thought was slammed to a stop when Dream’s eyes snapped down to Nick’s mouth like a magnet, time screeching to a neck-breaking halt. For a moment, neither of them moved. Dream’s grip loosened on Nick’s wrist but he didn’t even consider moving away, unable to focus on anything other than Dream’s gaze locked on his mouth and his own heartbeat slamming in his chest, in his throat, in his head. 

His lip slipped out from between his teeth, and out of reflex, he flicked his tongue to soothe the sting, and he could not ignore the way Dream sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. Nick watched his pupils swell and he couldn’t say anything about Dream’s pink cheeks because he knew his own were just as warm. 

And then it was like a flip was switched. Dream clenched his jaw, eyes flicking back up to Nick’s with a clarity that caught him off guard. “Fine,” Dream said, voice low and even. He stuck his tongue in his cheek for a moment of thought, and Nick tried desperately to keep up with the hidden thoughts behind Dream’s eyes. “Have it your way.” 

Those words ran through Nick’s mind just once, before one wrist was released. Before he could even think to make his escape, rough fingers caught him by the jaw, tipping Nick’s head back as a grin flashed over Dream’s lips. 

Then those lips were on Nick’s. 

Dream kissed him and he kissed him hard, sinking his teeth into Nick’s bottom lip without waiting for a response. The jolt of pain dragged a grunt from Nick’s mouth, and he pressed it up against Dream’s, allowing the thumb on his chin to drag his lips apart. Clay kissed him hard and deep and hot and Nick gave it back just as rough and unforgiving. 

His free hand jumped to the back of Dream’s head, threading fingers through loose blonde hair as he tilted his head up into the kiss. He craned his head up off the mattress, nipping at Dream’s tongue when it flicked his top lip. With a fistful of hair in his hand, he smirked into the kiss and yanked hard, dragging Clay’s mouth off him so he could gasp in a breath of air. 

It was only a moment before Dream caught Nick by the wrist, shoving his hand back down into the mattress. Except this time, he slipped his fingers up, interlocking them with Nick’s as he kissed him. He pressed his tongue past Nick’s lips, growling at the sharp bites Nick delivered in return. 

He’d forgotten about Clay’s knee on his thigh until the pressure vanished, Dream instead using his knee to push Nick’s leg to the side. It only felt natural to drag his knee up, dragging his ankle along the backside of Dream’s legs and pulling on the back of his thigh.

Even when they were kissing, they were fighting. Nick tried to press up against Dream, squirming and yanking on his wrists all the while trying to chase Dream’s tongue back into his own mouth. “Dream,” he growled when the Clay once again blocked Nick’s tongue, shoving his head back down against the mattress.

“Shut up,” Dream snarled, shifting his knee up the mattress between Nick’s legs. It wasn’t close enough and Nick’s underwear was too tight and too hot for him to handle. He bit back an irritated whine, and blushed at the smirk on Dream’s face. 

“You’re such a dick,” Nick bit, squirming when Dream put both of his wrists together and with one hand, held them both down. His other hand caught Nick by the jaw as he scanned the Texan boy’s flushed face and kiss-worried lips, holding him still despite how Nick shifted and fought, wanting to get his hands on Dream’s shoulders, in his shirt, in his hair. 

He was frustratingly intoxicating and Nick could not get enough. Dream who smelt like heat, like sweat and aftershave. Dream who dug his fingertips into Nick’s jaw and chin, grinning while he tilted Nick’s head back so he could kiss him deeper. 

The tongue that pressed into Nick’s mouth was hot and greedy as it teased his own, and Nick could feel the smug glee that oozed from the man above him. “Takes one to know one,” he whispered against Nick’s cheek, before pushing Nick’s head all the way back and dropping his mouth to the curve of his throat. 

Somewhere in the back of Sapnap’s head, he registered that he could still hear the other boys. Their conversation, the video, the fight; it felt so much further away with Dream’s tongue abseiling down his neck, and numbly he wondered if the boys had forgotten they were there. 

The sweet trail of kisses that crept up the side of his neck were followed by a sharp bite to the skin just below Nick’s ear, and he couldn’t stop the cry from spilling from his mouth. Grinning lips and a cruel tongue smothered the stinging pain as Nick groaned; words of: “Fuck you, that hurt,” being followed by a moan he couldn’t bite back when Clay’s hand disappeared from his jaw and reappeared between his legs, pressing flat to Nick’s straining arousal. The flush of pleasure that wasn’t quite enough dragged a helpless whimper from his tongue as Nick tried to grind up into the touch only to have it vanish altogether. “Clay-” he moaned at the greedy sucking on his neck, loud and desperate and without a touch of shame. “Fuck, touch me- Please,” he gasped.

And that right there was his second screw up of the night. 

“Woah, WHAT!?” 

“FUCK, no, my ears!”

“Oh God, oh no, that’s- they’re not fighting anymore, that’s not fighting!” 

The clamour of voices exploded from Nick’s computer, their previous quiet conversation completely forgotten as all three men’s heads were undoubtedly flooded with scenes they didn’t want to imagine, ever. 

Dream vanished from on top of Nick within seconds, bolting to the computer as Nick scrambled to sit upright. His face was burning hot and he could barely catch his breath as he watched Dream smack a few buttons on the computer before rounding on him. 

His own cheeks were flushed bright red and the look of alarm would have made Nick laugh had their situation not been as embarrassing as it was for the both of them. “You didn’t mute your mic!?” Dream demanded and Nick stared back at him in disbelief. 

“What, was I supposed to anticipate that!?” he snapped back, squirming under Dream’s dirty look. He was still embarrassingly turned on from their… activities, and he had no idea what was even going to happen now. 

They were best friends who lived together, not horny teenagers who jumped each other when they got a little bit worked up! 

Dream rubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath and holding it. After a second of silence, he let it out with an exhausted laugh, shaking his head as he lifted it to look back over at Nick. “Well, that’s going to be an uncomfortable conversation,” he said simply, and Nick couldn’t help but laugh as well. What else was there to do?

“At least they weren’t streaming,” he offered and Dream snickered at the thought, tapping a few more buttons until the screen went black. Nick dropped back onto the mattress, hands on his face as he took a few breaths. His heart was still racing like crazy, and the pressure between his legs was starting to ache. 

When he pushed back up onto his forearms, dropping a hand to readjust himself as he lifted his gaze to Dream. Sharp, green eyes were locked on him, more specifically his hand, which paused in its movements under the intense stare. 

Nick watched with bated breath as a small smile twisted Dream’s lips, eyes dragging up over Nick as if considering all the things he could do to him. Wondering what was going through Clay’s head made Nick’s stomach drop and head spin. Dream slowly returned to the edge of the bed and Nick sat up further, unsure if he felt more scared of excited by the look in Clay’s eyes. He moved to drag his legs back towards him, but before he could get very far, Dream’s hands were locking onto his ankles, one hard pull dragging Nick to the edge of the mattress. 

He tipped his head back to look up at Dream, biting his tongue when Dream cupped his cheek, running his thumb along his bottom lip. 

“That’s an issue for another day,” Dream said, wetting his lip with his tongue as he tipped Nick’s head back further. He shifted back, arms barely holding him up as he tilted his head away from Dream’s hand. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a nervous laugh dropping from his mouth as he scooted back further. 

Dream nodded, grin unfazed as he crawled onto the mattress. A hand to Nick’s chest pushed him back onto the mattress, another hand sliding up the inside of Nick’s leg. “Yeah,” Dream said, ghosting his fingers over the front of his sweats and watching Nick bite back a whimper. “Kinda busy right now.” He dipped down, capturing Nick’s mouth in another kiss; this one sweeter and softer than any of their others. He coaxed a soft sound from Nick’s throat, sucking his bottom lip and drawing his tongue out to flick against his own. 

“Busy?” Nick gasped when Dream pulled back for a breath, both hands falling to the waistband on Nick’s sweatpants. 

“Yeah,” he said with a sly grin, “Really busy.” 

[lokispettigerr]

To Summon A Witcher: Geralt x Reader Chapter 1 (NSFW) Smut

Summary:  Reader lives and works in one of the most romantic cities in the US, Charleston, SC. However, because of the city's colored past, romance isn’t the only thing that can be found there– it is said that ghosts, goblins, ghouls and the like make the city their home. When Reader meets one of these creatures she has to get the help of someone not quite so human in order to be free, but he frees her from much more than she ever expected.

Taglist: In reblog

Word Count: 1769

Warnings: This shit spooky, fam.  Graveyard, and corpse mention.

A/N: This is the first-ever Geralt fic I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Leave me your thoughts in the comments or in an ask!  

“Yeah, it’s this huge guy with stark-white hair, golden eyes, and seriously, a body that could pick me up and snap me like a twig,” I told my best friend, Genny.

“Sounds hot. I’m not sure I understand where this is a problem?” She swirled the coffee mug around, stirring up the settled liquid in her latte. “I mean, unless you are waking up to find that these dreams with the ‘Daddy-white-haired-tree-man’ are really wet dreams that soak your covers through… I could see that as being a problem.” She laughed a musical beautiful laugh. I danced around her comment, not wanting her to know how I felt when I woke up from the dreams of the mysterious man or the nature of some of the dreams which truly did feature bare skin, hard muscle, and moans that rang out in unison.

“Genny, I have never seen this man before in my life, yet he has been in every dream I have had for months now. I just don’t know what it means.”

“Sure, but you’ve had to have seen him somewhere.” She looked around us now, glancing all about the outside patio of the coffee shop that was nestled between a bakery and a uniquities store. People were milling about, their arms full of shopping bags or clutching briefcases or talking on their cell phones. “Honestly, I want to see this guy.” Genny licked her lips. “Maybe he is nearby right now,” she whispered, “Either that or he was the main stud on some porn. Yeah, that’s likely it.”

I stared at her blankly. Why did everything have to come back to sex? I mean, to be fair things always came back to sex for the both of us and this was likely one of the reasons why we enjoyed each other's company so much, but this was serious. Dreams mean something, or so my mother taught me to believe.   And I couldn’t help but think that the man in my dreams had something to do with my current predicament. After all, they had started shortly after things took a turn for the worse.

I’d felt it on more than one occasion, and lately with the way things were going whatever beasty was following me seemed to only be growing stronger.

It had first started on a cold, wet day. The rain had been steadily falling for more than a week, but that day the wind was stirring maddeningly and there had been a tornado warning.

When the storm began I was at work and after the numerous alerts and warnings, me and my coworkers were all told it would be best if we left. In my rush, I dashed out of the door with only my keys.

I had forgotten my bag and my phone and all the contents that I had slowly collected over the years and kept in a satchel as a sort of talisman to ward off evil spirits and the like that seemed to want to attach themselves to me.

The satchel contained an odd assortment of things: a small vial of salt, a clay statue with its own strikingly unusual appearance, a stone of jet, a globe of labradorite, and the tooth of a black cat that all helped me to feel safe, to be protected and to walk unnoticed throughout the world-- at least in the realm of those things not living.

From childhood, I noticed shadows, without shape or form. Most of the time they were harmless. As I grew older, I became more aware of other creatures and entities. The shadows would go from playful to predatorial.

I quickly grew scared and when my mother found out she took me to see a children’s therapist. The apparitions did not stop, they poured forth latching onto my fears, my desperation and hopelessness. It was as if I had become a house for them to dwell within.

I became haunted.

I passed through the hands of multiple therapists, too many to even count. None of them could help me. I was a child becoming a teen that was out of their depth. They either pitied me, despised me, or feared me.

Eventually, my mother heard tell of a spiritual healer, who was no more than a witch, yet she was the only one who could help.

Instead of claiming that I was delusional or sick, the healer praised me for my abilities and told my mother I was gifted, however, the healer sensed the dark energies threatening to consume me and crafted the satchel that had been blessed and enchanted with wards to keep me safe.

And from then on, I carried it with me wherever I went.

That is, until the day the tornado hit.

I’d left work feeling hopeful that I would make it home before the storm became dangerous. But the further I went, the harder the storm raged. I lived in an aged and historic town and was lucky enough to be within walking distance from my work. A few blocks and I would have been home.

I dashed through the rain, taking care not to slip and hurt myself. My keys jangled loudly against my hip.

Rainwater was pelting my eyes and I had trouble seeing. I was soaked. Lightning flashed while thunder rumbled threateningly.

If I would have left a few minutes earlier from my work maybe things would have been different.

If I would have not forgotten my purse with the enchanted satchel within maybe things would be better for me.

Being a human means making human mistakes and mistakes breed consequences that are not often too kind.

I’d rounded a corner at the French district, splashing through puddles when I came to the wrought iron, overgrown with ivy and tangled weeds, entrance of the graveyard.

People often said the graveyard was haunted, cursed.

There were ghost walks and spirit tours that brought groups of people to this very cemetery so they could “Oooo” and “Aahhh” and romanticize about all the horrific deeds that had taken place here. They would return home or to their inns or their taverns and tell the stories they had heard over a beer with a friend, or sitting in front of their fireplace, or tucked into a cool bed on a winter night.

The locals all knew this cemetery was bad news, nothing good ever came of it except for the endless revenue of the ghost tours that the cemetery enticed.

I planned to continue on down the block, straight past the graveyard, but a harsh streak of lightning cut through the sky overhead and thunder cracked so loudly I could feel it deep within my very bones.

Though I cringed at the thought, I knew that if I cut through the graveyard I would be home in half the time.

I gulped and with a look of harsh determination on my face, I ran into the graveyard, pushing my body through the gate.

It closed behind me with a harsh clang, but I continued.

I wasn’t interested in taking my time like some of the tourists do when they come here to meander and ponder while they look at the ancient graves, too old to even have names or dates on them, or too overgrown with tangled foliage for anything to be made out.

There was a worn path beneath my feet, and the rainwater had caused it to be treacherously slick with red clay mud. It threatened to be surpassed and covered in its entirety by tall and leggy green weeds. They slapped relentlessly at my calves and thighs as I ran through.

The weeds made me run blindly. I thought if I stayed on the path it was safest, but I was wrong.

My foot caught on a thick, twisting root that lay horizontally before me. It snaked from one set of graves to another, likely gaining nourishment from the rotting corpses underneath the ground.

I fell, catching myself on the heels of my hands. My pants leg was ripped open and a sharp, sudden pain could be felt above my knee.

I sat up, thoroughly covered in mud and grime from the cemetery, my hair completely soaked through, my clothes stuck against my skin and inspected the gaping wound above my knee. It wouldn’t need stitches, but as soon as I got home I would have to place some butterfly bandages on the wound, or it was sure to leave an ugly scar.

A wet warmth spread along the skin of my knee as my pants soaked up the blood that was pouring forth.

Just then the wind gushed maddeningly, causing the trees in the graveyard to sway and the grey Spanish moss to dance. The trees creaked and groaned with their movement.

Nearby I heard a clicking noise and I couldn’t place it to anything natural. I shifted, sitting up straight, remaining still so I could hear whatever the noise belonged to.

A shadow crossed my periphery and I turned my head towards the movement.

Whatever it was, was using the headstones to hide and shifting between them, manipulating the shadows of the graves to appear “natural”.

But the feeling of dread I had that I often associated with the shadow beings from my past was all too familiar.

My hands fumbled around for my purse. I would grab the enchanted draw-string satchel and would put an end to this shadow thing coming after me.

It was then, I realized my mistake. I had left my purse at work.

“Shit!”

The clicking grew louder and before me, the shadow began to take form.

I knew I couldn’t turn around. All I could do now was keep moving forward, towards home-- towards safety.

The shadow-being before me darkened, swirling and shifting menacingly, and I rose to my feet charging through it.

When I passed through its still collecting form, I felt a cold that seeped into my bones and gripped with a deadly claw around the deepest parts of my being. It was as if, in doing that it knew me. Everything about me.

My darkest desires, my deepest fears, my hopes and my failures.

I ran from the storm.

I ran from the graveyard.

I ran from the shadow that threatened to abolish me.

Things have been a nightmare since and the depression I was treated for long ago with the help of the spiritual healer is slowly lurking back.

I am certain the shadow beast followed me home, and what I am most uncertain of is how to get rid of it.

**** Hope you all enjoyed chapter 1! Please get this fic out into the tumblr verse by reblogging, commenting, and even sending asks if you feel like it! If you would like to support me head on over to my Patreon where you will get access to my fics before anywhere else and much more! Or fuel me with Ko-fi! Until next time! Peace, Loki’s Pet Tiger

[natural-namjoon]

Ｎｅｎ

“What happens when a small child runs off into the forest and runs into the sweet but mysterious Hongjoong who can make rain with his flute?.”

Ateez as Gods AU

Non- Romantic Hongjoong X OC, Seonghwa is there too.

Fantasy, mystical, no romance 

TW// Non-graphic Death, mentions of child abuse, mild angst.

Word Count: 5,139 words

*AN: short one-off that might become a series. idk yet. I wanted to do something different, I felt huge writers block from only writing romantic y/n stories so this is me trying to write something different. Its a cute little one shot of ethereal Hongjoong saving a cute little boy, very sweet, very simple, please enjoy.*

The morning air was warm and dry, the sky was bright blue with no clouds to be seen, which left the sun blazing on a small village nestled upon a densely forested hill. In that village there was a small boy who was about 6 years old who, told to stay inside and finish his chores, decided he was done for the day and with sneaking caution he peeked his small head out of the opening of the hut looking out for a scolding grown-up that might be headed his way, but there was currently no one in sight. Almost all of the adults in the village had been called to a council of the elders that morning because there had been talk of a curse on the land, the village had seen no rain for almost a year and the crops were suffering and food storages were dwindling, if the spirits couldn’t help them they would be forced to leave and make the dangerous journey of finding a new place to settle. 

After a few moments of looking around the child decided it was safe enough to venture out. He knew it was forbidden and he knew he could incur the wrath of his father like so many times before but there was a restless longing that had been tugging at the small child’s mind all that morning. With no hesitation the boy made a break for the treeline, wanting to explore and look around, he had not been allowed to ever do so and even though the rainless months left the forest in a dry brown state, it was still better than sitting in the stuffy hut. 

Treading carefully between the large trees, the child ran until he could no longer see the last few huts that sat on the outskirts of their settlement. After he felt he was far enough the child slowed down and took his time, looking around. The trees were so tall and imposing but not in a scary way. Nothing about the forest had ever scared this child unlike the other kids in the village. This particular little boy always thought of the trees as guardians, tall and passive, shielding him from being seen when father was angry and providing timber and branches for the fires and huts. After a bit of walking the boy came upon a large channel in the ground, dried and empty, no doubt the location of a small stream that had been bountiful about a year before but now, due to the drought, had dried up. Carefully climbing down into the dried stream he noticed a shiny glint in the dirt. With piqued curiosity, the boy ran over and with small determined fingers, he was able to move the dry clay and retrieve a shiny blue stone.

Completely enamored by the beauty of the small rock the boy didn’t hear it at first, the sound was faint and a little off in the distance but after a moment the tune had the child’s ears perked. It was the sound of a flute, there was a lone flute player somewhere in the forest. The tune was soft and slow and playful but in between the notes there was a hint of sadness, the boy felt a pang in his heart as he listened to the sweet melody and with determination he decided he needed to find the lone flute player. With a skip in his step the boy followed their ears and on quick small feet, made his way to find the magical musician. 

After a few confusing twists and turns the boy was eventually able to follow the sound in the right direction, as with every passing tree the sound grew louder and soon the child found his way to a small clearing in the woods where two boulders sat, a smaller one sitting within the shadow of the larger one, the boy hadn't even realized how far he had walked, completely leaving the hill that his village sat on and traveling deep into the valley below. At first, the boy didn’t see anything but then he noticed him. A young man sitting in the lotus position on the smaller boulder, eyes closed, playing the flute. As to not draw attention to himself the boy ducked behind a nearby tree. Peeking around to watch the man. The man was thin and pretty, he also looked young, probably no older than the bigger kids back at the village, but there was something about him that made the child feel like he was much older than anyone the boy had ever met. The man was odd-looking as well, his hair was very dirty and covered in what looked like mud or clay, it made it impossible to know what his real hair color was but his appearance only got stranger, he was dressed in clothes the child had never seen before, instead of the furs and skins the child was used to seeing, this man had on long silver and white robes that looked shiny and pretty. Was this material the infamous “silk” that the child had heard so much about? According to the adults, silk was incredibly expensive and people killed for it, only royalty and the extremely wealthy were able to possess it, but this man had dirt in his hair, surely he wasn’t royalty, the boy thought.

While the little boy sat perturbed and lost in thought he didn’t notice the man had stopped playing the flute and was sitting quietly, a small smile on his lips.

“I see you there, little one,” He called, his voice was smooth and sweet, like the sound of wind chimes. Startled, the boy gasped and hid behind the tree, hoping the man hadn’t seen him. 

“It's ok Little one, I will not harm you. Did you come because of my song?” He called out playfully to the child again. 

After a moment The boy shyly peeked his head out, the man sat and beckoned the boy over, his eyes were narrow and piercing but kind, and his smile was warm, with a perfect set of straight white teeth, sensing no immediate threat the little boy decided to take a hesitant step out of behind the tree. The child made his way over to the boulder where the man sat, his eyes watching cautiously for any signs that the man was a threat but as he got closer he could only feel the warmth of the man’s smile and the welcoming nature of his stance. The only strange thing that struck the child was how bright and blue the man’s eyes were. 

The boy stopped right in front of the boulder, looking up at the pretty human before him. Without saying a word the man patted the spot next to him on the boulder, after a moment of hesitation the boy then clumsily climbed up the side of the rock and sat where he had been directed, the shade provided a nice cool spot to sit in the middle of the warm afternoon. 

“There, isn’t that better? I’m sure you walked pretty far huh?” The man asked and the child nodded shyly

 “My name is Hongjoong, What is yours?” The man, Hongjoong, said extending his hand out to the boy, but the child only stared at his hand with a strange look, after an awkward pause the boy only shook his head and in a small voice he said,

“I have no name.” Hongjoong furrowed his brows in concern but didn’t say anything, instead, reaching in his satchel to retrieve his canteen. Taking off the cap he offered it to the child,

“Here, drink some water, it's awfully warm today.” Without hesitation the boy grabbed the canteen and drank hastily, Hongjoong chuckled at the child's enthusiasm. He figured the child had travelled far since Hongjoong didn't know of any villages in the immediate area , and he figured he was completely alone out there, but he had been wrong. 

The canteen was heavy and cool in the boy's hands and the water he drank from it was the coldest and cleanest water the child had ever tasted, it was crisp and sweet and the little boy couldn't get enough, gulping it down like he was cursed with an insatiable thirst.

“Whoa there, slow down or you will get a stomach ache if you drink it all so fast” Hongjoong laughed placing his hand on the canteen. 

The boy stopped immediately, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” he said quietly, cheeks going pink, he knew that he should’ve been polite and only taken a little, father had taught him better than that.  Hongjoongs eyes softened as he helped wipe the dribbling water from the boy’s chin.

“It’s ok, I would just hate it if you fell ill.” Hongjoong explained.

As Hongjoong was cleaning the child's face, the boy had noticed some more details about the kind man in front of him. Hongjoong was beautiful, almost like a woman, with delicate features like soft lips and long eyelashes but his jawline was sharp and his nose prominent like a man. Hongjoong also was adjourned with so many pieces of sparkling jewelry,he would probably have glittered if standing in direct sunlight. Multiple small silver hoops were placed in one ear and a loong delicate chain hung from the other, he also had many thin silver rings sprinkled with small sparkling jewels all over his hands. All signs pointed to Hongjoong being royalty but the boy couldn't get past the hair. Hongjoong noticed the child staring at his hair slicked back with brown clay and laughed his same twinkling laugh, the child couldn't help but smile at the sound.

“My head must look strange to you my little one but it's something I must do the be here,” Hongjoong explained vaguely and before the boy could press it further he held up his flute.

“I was actually in the middle of doing something very important, and I was almost done, do you mind if I finish my song?”  he asked, the flute in his hand was beautiful, wooden and polished with intricate carvings, the boy nodded as he marveled at the pretty instrument in Hongjoong’s hand. 

With another brilliant smile, Hongjoong silently lifted the flute to his lips and closed his eyes, there was a pause and then the slow yet bouncy notes erupted from the delicate instrument, and the child was entranced. The sound seemed to envelop the clearing and seep into the forest, ringing out for anything with ears to experience. The song was playful but again the boy felt the tugging in his heart like he wanted to cry and burst out laughing all at the same time. After about a minute of silence, the flute being the only sound around them, Hongjoong played the last note of the song, extending it like a cry into the air and then silence followed. Eyes still closed, he placed the flute down on his lap gently. The little boy sat, eyes wide in amazement, he was about to tell Hongjoong how pretty the song had been but before either could speak there was a loud invasive crash that echoed through the sky and shook the ground, causing the child to jump in fright and subsequently into Hongjoongs arms. Then out of nowhere dark grey clouds rolled in and it started to pour rain from the heavens, letting out a surprised cry the boy leapt from Hongjoong’s embrace and threw his little arms up in amazement,

“ Hongjoong look! It's raining!” The boy laughed, twirling and jumping, feeling the cool touch of rain on his face for the first time in months.

 It was the feeling of relief, like swimming in a cold pond on a hot day and knowing his people back in the village won't suffer anymore because of the drought, the small child had never felt this type of joy, and had it not been pouring on them he would have had visible tears. Hongjoong watched the boy, giggling and dancing in the rain and he could feel the child's relief, such an emotional burden this little boy carried, he could feel all the scars this particular child bared and he felt a deep sadness for him. After a bit of dancing and cheering the boy stopped, the rain was pouring harder and the boy was starting to become overwhelmed by the force of the rain. 

“Hongjoong I can't see,” The boy said pathetically, trying to wipe the water form his face only for it to be replaced by more rain. Hongjoong chuckled and gathered his things, then lifting this child up into his arms,

“Come my little one lets find shelter until the storm passes.” he said, holding the child close as the boy buried his face into Hongjoong’s silken robes. Hongjoong leapt off the boulder and with a hustle in his step he jogged off into the woods knowing a particular cave nearby where he could put the child until the rain let up. Reaching the cave in no time at all, Hongjoong placed the boy in the back and went to work making a fire. Using a dry handkerchief Hongjoong helped the boy wipe his face and dry his hair. After the boy had all the water wiped off his face he could finally see perfectly, he took a look around the small dry cave, cozy and warm now that it was lit by firelight and then finally the boy really noticed Hongjoong and gasped. The rain had washed the mud and dirt from his head and revealed his hair to be the color of the sea, a deep dark shade of blue, it was beautiful and shined in the fires light,

“Your hair!” the child exclaimed and all Hongjoong did was smile,

“Yes, now you see why I had to cover it up, many people don't like my hair, it frightens them.” He explained. It was true that the blue hair was strange and the boy had never seen anything like it, but it didn't frighten him.

“It's so pretty Hongjoong'' the small boy replied softly, reaching up to touch it without thinking. Hongjoong leaned down and let the child’s small hands gently grasp a long piece that hung in front of his face, the boy smiled at how soft and silky Hongjoong’s hair felt, no tangles or dirt to be seen. 

“Hongjoong are you a prince?” the boy asked, letting go of Hongjoong’s hair and looking deep into his blue eyes, again the child was met with Hongjoongs twinkling laughter. 

“No child, I am not a prince, where I'm from I don't need to be rich and greedy to live my life, I have 7 brothers and we all live in harmony with the earth and all its creatures,” as he spoke Hongjoong had picked something up off the ground and revealed it to the boy, in his hand was a large lizard, It was black with gold flecks accross its shiny skin. The boy jumped slightly, frightened at how large the reptile was, almost as long as Hongjoong’s forearm but quickly noticed how docile the creature was as it rested lazily in the man's arms. 

“It won't hurt you little one, this is a salamander, its ok to say hello. Most of the time earth's creatures are just as curious as you are.” Hongjoong explained, lightly stroking the Salamanders head. The boy followed suit and ran his little fingers over the salamanders head, giggling at the feeling of the creature's cool smooth skin. After the boy finished petting it, Hongjoong gently placed the salamander on the cave floor and it scurried away.

Both of them sat in silence for a bit listening to the sound of the rain, when suddenly Honjoong turned to the child,

“Little one, why do you not have a name?” Hongjoong asked the boy who had started to nod off against the cave wall. The boy shrugged and rubbed his eyes,

“I do not know, my mother and father gave me none, they just call me ‘boy’ and that's it.” The boy shrugged again, not finding the topic all that interesting

“ Are your mother and father nice to you?” Hongjoong asked this time and again the child shrugged,

“My mother and father give me food and father tells me how lucky I am to have a place to sleep, so yes they are nice to me, I guess.” The little boy stayed quiet in thought for a moment then spoke again

 “My mother is going to have a baby, I will soon have a brother or sister who will follow mother and fathers orders better than me. I can never do anything right so father has to punish me a lot. I try hard but I wasn't born a good child and my mother says that this baby will be born good so they won't need me anymore.” The boy mumbled out the last sentence, his eyes downcast as he picked at some dirt on the cave floor. 

Hongjoong shook with the rage he felt in his heart at the child's words, what he had suspected from the beginning had been true and he knew he never wanted this small boy to suffer again. No child deserved such a fate, to be born to parents who could not see what a valuable and beautiful gift children were. Composing himself before the boy could see his anger Hongjoong sighed and reached out move the hair from the boy's face, tangled and dirty it was currently a mess on his head.

“Little one, may I have the honor of giving you a name?” Hongjoong spoke softly and the boy's eyes widened like saucers.

“ Really, you can do that?” the boy asked incredulously, Hongjoong giggled at the pure innocence the child exuded,

“Yes I can or if you like you can pick your own name, it's your choice.” At Hongjoongs words the boy's face looked as if he told him that pigs could fly. After a moment of thinking the child made up his mind.

“ I want you to choose for me, please?” and with that Hongjoong smiled back and grabbed the child gently placing him on his lap, it was starting to get cold, so hongjoong wrapped them both in a spare silk robe he had, the boy laid his head on Hongjoongs shoulder relaxing in his loving embrace. After another moment of silence and thinking on Hongjoong’s part he finally spoke.

“I've travelled to many lands vastly different from this one and I've met many people who look very different from me and even you, and I've heard many different languages spoken. Based on what I've learned through all my years on this planet I think I have the perfect name for you little one” Hongjoong explained. The boy was almost trembling with excitement 

“What is it?! What is it?!” The boy asked impatiently, Hongjoong looked down on the small boy, so young and not deserving of all that he been handed from the cruel world, and he smiled

“I'd like to give you the name Nen. It comes from a far away land called Egypt and it means ancient waters and like those waters you are strong, brave and resilient and more beautiful than anyone cares to realize. I haven't known you long sweet child but I feel like this name is perfect for you, if you will have it.” The boy looked up into Hongjoons eyes, searching for any sign he was lying or could at any moment take what he said back, but all he could find in Hongjoong’s deep sea blue eyes was love and acceptance, two things the boy knew little of. 

“Thank you…” was all the boy breathed before he buried his face into Hongjoongs chest and cried, he cried out of joy and relief and happiness, finally he had a name, finally he might actually be worthy enough to be called a good child. 

“My name is Nen. “ the boy cried and Hongjoong held him tighter, fighting the urge to cry himself. After calming down they sat together in silence as the rain outside continued to pour, Nen feeling warm and protected in Hongjoong’s arms.

“Nen would you like me to accompany you back to your village when the rain stops?” Hongjoong asked, curious to see what the child would say,and almost as if without thinking Nen spoke quickly and honestly.

“I don't want to go back..” was all he could reply, Hongjoong pondered for a second before he responded, testing the waters.

“Would you like to come home with me? The place I come from, there are other people there with me and my brothers, other children and grown-ups who were treated unfairly in their old lives. We welcomed them to our home and they came with us to find peace and happiness because where we live, there is no sadness or pain and if you really would like too, you can come with me too.” Nen sat up to look into Hongjoongs face again, trying to find any hints that he was kidding or fooling him but again Nen found no trace of badness or malice in Hongjoong’s eyes and for the 3rd time that day Nen cried,

“Yes! Please, Hongjoong I want to go live with you and meet your brothers and all the other nice people, Please!” Nen cried and Hongjoong held the weeping boy again laughing at his display of joy.

“Ok my dear Nen, we shall go once the rain passes, but that might not be for a while, so you should sleep. Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?” Hongjoong asked, arranging the spare robes he had into a makeshift bed with Nen resting his head on Hongjoong’s lap.

“Yes please.” Nen snuggled up into the robes, getting comfy and excited at the idea of hearing Hongjoong play again.

 After Nen became comfortable, Hongjoong wasted no time bringing his flute to his lips and playing a soft slow lullaby, sure to help the child sleep. Nen very quickly felt like he was drifting, the soft sound of the flute mixed with Hongjoongs scent coming off the robes- rain and tea leaves- lulled the boy and soon he drifted off into a deep sleep. All of Nens fears and worries would be forgotten, all the pain he experienced would be like it never happened, Nen would be reborn and forget what suffering and neglect even felt like. Hongjoong would be there though to guide little Nen into his new life and he vowed to take care of the child for as long as Nen needed. The last thing Nen remembered was dreaming of colors, bright and warm. They welcomed him to a new beginning, there were other people like Hongjoong had said,with smiling faces and welcoming arms and behind those people stood 7 men all various heights, dressed in multi colored robes like Hongjoong wore and each man had bright hair colors, they were Hongjoong’s brothers. Nen, feeling a little frightened at first, slowly relaxed and walked into the bright picture ahead letting his short life go and forgetting it all together, this was joy, this was love and this was peace. Just as Hongjoong had said. Nen really didn't understand where he was but he was happy and that's all that mattered. 

Hongjoong waited until he finished his song to check the child, once it was over the boy had stilled, his pulse stopped. Every time he did this the people he took always slipped after the first few notes but he always finished the song as a way to honor those who made the journey from this life to the afterlife. Almost like a eulogy in the form of a song. Once he put his flute away he stood and gathered Nen’s small body in his arms. Fixing the boy's hair and wiping any dirt he had on his face. Out of the Corner of his eye Hongjoong saw the salamander form earlier crawl out from a gap in the wall. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, turning away from the creature.

“I figured you had left. I know this wasn't exactly what I had planned but Nen found me in the middle of nowhere, that's not a coincidence” He turned back and in the Salamanders place stood a man, tall and ethereal, just as beautiful as Hongjoong but with stronger, shaper features and long black hair draped languidly over his broad shoulders. The other man stood and narrowed his almond eyes at Hongjoong

“You said you weren't going to take sacrifices anymore, what changed? Brother.” the man spoke in a deep voice and Hongjoong sighed,

“Seonghwa I know you heard what Nen told me, you heard about the life he has had to face at only 6 years old, I'm sorry I wasn't going to just take Nen back to that village. You can say it’s their sacrifice for the rain but I don't regret my decision.” Hongjoong explained sternly.

Seonghwa said nothing as he walked over to Hongjoong and Nen, black and gold robes flowing behind him, gently he reached out and placed a hand on the child's head, feeling the same sadness that hongjoong felt for the poor boy.

“I know Hongjoong, I heard everything and I probably would have done the same thing but now the village will think that our kindness comes with a price, we are trying to show the mortals we are benevolent Gods and we are not to be feared. Once they find Nen’s body they will know that you took him as payment for the rain.” Seonghwa explained grabbing a piece of Nen’s hair to show it turning silver, a common trademark of the people who were sacrificed to the Sky God. With each victim of a God, there are signs or ways to know which deity had been present and for Hongjoong, God of the heavens and sky, it's the hair turning silver or white.

Hongjoong didn't say anything, he understood where his brother was coming from, he and his brothers all tried to work with humanity and help them in any ways they could and they wanted to show the humans that they can help without needing sacrifices and bloodshed, Hongjoong had heard the prayers from the people who lived in the drought stricken area and he fully intended to give them the rain without payment but he couldn't leave the boy, Hongjoong knew Nen was better off, he had to believe Nen living forever in paradise would be better than staying on earth and continuing to be abused.

 Without saying another word to his brother, Hongjoong took the child and exited the cave, making his way back to where Nen’s village was. He could be on the outskirts of the village in the blink of an eye but he decided to walk and take his time, needing to come to terms with his own selfish act. A part of him didn't regret taking Nen but the other part of his soul knew that he had acted rashly and basically robbed Nen of his life. The child wouldn't be able to grow up and experience life, he would forever be a child. Humans were destructive and evil creatures, born with greed in their hearts but not all of them grew to be monsters, if he had let Nen live would Nen had grown to be a monster like his father or grow to become someone important who would have made great changes in his community or was it all futile seeing as though Nen could just as easily died at the hands of his father. This division of what was right versus what was needed tore Hongjoong apart,he messed up but he had to take solace in the fact that regardless of everything that's happened, Nen was happy now. Hongjoong could feel Nen’s joy and he knew the child waited for him to come home. Hongjoong had finally found his way to the hill the village sat upon and stopped in front of the stream that sat in the outskirts of the village, it had previously been a dried up channel in the dirt but because of the rain it was full and thriving all over again. With gentle hands he laid the child face up in the shallowest part of the stream, upon first glance it looked as if the child had just fallen asleep in the water but the pale skin and silver hair were indicators that the child had been taken by the sky deity. 

In their world, gods were real and every human knew that although the humans both worshiped and feared the Gods. All Hongjoong ever wanted was peace on the planet but for centuries, humans always seemed to stand in the way, abusing the land and creatures, taking more than needed and killing each other because of greed and malice and he had always felt that it would get worse. Hongjoong wanted things to change, that's why he and his brothers swore to help the humans so there would be no fear and finally the gods could coexist with the humans, that was why the humans were created right? Hongjoong didn't really remember how or why humans were created and he honestly didn't even remember how he himself was created, it had been a few millenniums, but he always wondered why he was created, was it to be worshipped as a higher being or did he silently wish to be like the humans. Hongjoong didn't know and he felt like all he did was spend his time trying to figure it out. It didn't help that his own brothers did not share his views, the majority of them taking their place as gods who, though benevolent, were to be worshiped by the humans and they saw themselves as superior in every way. He led them well though he couldn't change their attitudes.

“Come Hongjoong, Nen is waiting for you back home with the others.” Seonghwa said softly,having followed Hongjoong to return Nen to his village.

 Seonghwa had stood watching over his brother and leader, as the blue haired god stood at the stream's edge, deep in thought. All hongjoong could do was nod, long blue hair falling over his face. He felt a twinge in his gut, he knew things would get worse, but hopefully only because it would eventually get better. The sound of men approaching the stream could be heard close by and the two ethereal beings retreated silently into the forest, wishing silently for a better tomorrow. 

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Live Wire --The Dirt--(10)

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school, has had a rough life, and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night…the same night Mötley Crüe is born.

@prettyyoungandbored​, @hot-young-runningfree​, @crue-sixx​, @oskea93​, @dancergirl5527​, @thatonemoviefan​, @casualcomputerarbiter-blog​, @motleymachinegun​, @motleycrueee​ 

Previous Chapters:

One,   Two,    Three,    Four,    Five,    Six,    Seven,   Eight,   Nine

“What the fuck am I doing?!” Wren had been sitting on the kitchen floor, staring aimlessly out into the band’s practice spot for what felt like hours. In reality, she’d only missed out on the last five or six minutes, but during that time, her mind spun with self-actualization. The apartment wasn’t home without the band, without Tommy slamming cymbals, without Nikki grumbling at her for sitting on his amp, without Mick passing her a side ways glare whenever one of the boys did something idiotic, or even without Vince’s bantering appreciation of her help. Five years had gone by without a thought of that horrible person crossing her mind, and now because of some big mouthed blonde bimbo, Wren had reverted back to the frightened and fragile fourteen-year-old she had been. 

At fifteen she decided she wasn’t going to let that tainted chapter bleed through the pages and darken the rest of her life. A year of fearfully looking over her shoulder, of feeling her heart pound within her chest so fiercely she thought she’d throw up, of not being able to trust a single damned person in the world besides Tommy Lee Bass was all it took for her to chisel her heart and turn herself to stone.

Although it was none of her business and she knew that some girls found power in their physicality and sexuality, Wren never held a high opinion for girls that didn’t seem to have a problem lying on their backs in a stranger’s room. This was half of the reason she never sought out any sort of romantic relationship; the other half was because of Clay. She didn’t want to be reminded of that night, and if she wasn’t touched, she didn’t have to remember. If she wasn’t held, she wouldn’t close her eyes and panic at the memory of having his arms around her. If she was alone, no one could hurt her.

Being friends with Tommy and hanging around with his friends during high school kept her safe, not only from the grueling torment more commonly known as teenage girl drama, but from having to fend off suitors—if they think you’re one of the guys, then you’re no longer a girl in their eyes. After escaping Clay, growing infinitely closer to Tommy, and finding some guidance from a kind-hearted man named Bob whom she met in the park she lived in for close to a month, Wren took her identity into her own hands. She loved to sing, but since her parents wouldn’t let her do it on her terms, she quit choir and only sang in the comfort of her car or shower. She dropped the good-girl persona of pastel, feminine clothing that her parents insisted she wore because, “respectable women don’t wear black leather,” and spent a solid ninety-five percent of her time with Tommy. He was her best friend, but her was also her oasis; he was peace, comfort, warmth, and protection, and she was about to let him down.

I’m not that person anymore,” she defiantly said to herself as she rose from the floor, grabbed her keys from the counter top, and rushed out the door.

During the first few nights at their new place, Wren was hesitant about living on the Strip—loud drunk people wandering through the neighborhood wasn’t exactly an appealing quality—but as she jogged the block’s distance from their apartment to the Whiskey, Wren was counting her lucky stars and praying she wouldn’t miss seeing them on stage. With the cold, evening air of the desert in her lungs, Wren’s legs carried her stride toward the bouncer who looked at her up and down before folding his arms over his chest.

“Are you looking to get in or are you out for a run?” the man questioned as he jutted his chin out in order to appear more authoritative over the much smaller young woman. Wren hadn’t even assessed her wardrobe during the moments she decided to pick herself up and not fuck up her future, and so she appeared at the club in tennis shoes, black jogging shorts, and a tattered, old AC/DC t-shirt.

“I’m with the band,” Wren stated in her best matter-of-fact tone despite being slightly out of breath from sprinting down the street.

“You and half the other underage chicks who try to slip in,” the man grunted with a scoff rising from his stomach only to be returned with Wren’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

“Do you want me to buy a ticket?” Wren’s snarky tone slapped the man in the face as he looked down his nose at her.

“All sold out,” he responded in a curt, unapologetic tone.

“My best friend is about to get on stage and you can be damned sure I’m not about to miss it!” Although I’m a piece of shit because I did almost miss it, she quickly thought to herself. “Is there a list or something that I need to be on?” Upon hearing her question, the bouncer’s eyebrows furrowed as he recalled one of the stage managers giving him a name—shit, what was it? Dan Lemmon? Ben Lennon? “My name is Wren Ledden. I’m sure Tommy mentioned to someone I was coming. Nikki Sixx works here; he’s playing tonight. I’m the closest thing that group of misfits have to a manager. You have to let me in!”

“Ledden does ring a bell,” the man said as he lowered his arms and stepped aside. “You can come in, but I have an eye on you. I have a friend down the strip who’s told me about you; you shouldn’t be sneaking into clubs. It’s gonna catch up to you one day.”

“If Mötley makes it as big as I think they will, I won’t have to sneak anywhere ever again,” Wren said with a smirk as she jogged past the entrance and into the Whiskey just in time to see Vince jog up onto the stage and introduce the band as his nerves fluttered around within him. Silence engulfed the room as the crowd stared at the collection of boys and men on stage. Wren hurried to make her way toward the front and hopefully ease her way backstage to support her friends, however her heart sunk to her knees at what happened next. Tommy’s cymbal rolls at Vince’s introduction ended with a smash, but not on the crash cymbal. Instead, out of nervous panic, he kicked the cymbal stand over and earned a humiliating fit of laughter from the audience.

Wren contemplated jumping onto the stage to help him reset his drums, but Tommy had already lunged around the trap set while shouting expletives. She scanned the stage, hoping to lock eyes with any member of the band; however, all she managed to capture was the uneasiness each member carried. Vince had been a hype man and eye candy for his last band, but this was a different crowd. There were women present, but definitely not to the degree he was used to, and Wren could see him weighing that fact in his mind. Mick seemed cool and collected, but something about his demeanor seemed slightly forced. Tommy was nearly shaking from the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body, and Nikki wore a face full of his signature austere, ‘what the fuck are you looking at?’ grimace that Wren determined was a major part of his protective shell.

Almost as soon as Tommy knocked over his cymbal, the crowd began to transform from the quiet, uninterested patrons Wren had walked in on, into heartless, taunting, and jeering asses. Comments along the lines of “You suck,” and “Get off the stage!” began to slip from the crowd and, with each passing remark, Wren could feel her lips tighten across her face and her fingers curl tighter into a fist.

Vince tried his best to ignore the comments and attempted to hype the band up as they began ‘Take Me To The Top’, but as he began to dance, his movements were jerky and his face seemed pale. Again, the crowd’s pre-formulated opinions about the band based upon Tommy’s accident at the beginning and the band’s attire kept the audience from experiencing all that Mötley Crüe had to offer. The band started heavy and hard, and it genuinely seemed like they were taking their nerves out on their instruments in the most beneficial way they could, but that didn’t stop a few men in the crowd from attempting to rile up the band.

As Vince waited for his cue to come in, one burly, barrel chested, bearded man called out, “Who’s the chick singer?” which earned a large laugh from the people around him.

“Hey, fuck you asshole!” Vince called back from the stage, but the man could hear Wren—having been much closer to the antagonist than Vince—loud as day from over his shoulder.

“Why don’t you fuck off or get the fuck out?!” she shouted over Mick, Tommy, and Nikki’s playing. The six foot, two-hundred fifty plus pound man turned to reveal a five foot seven, nineteen-year-old girl of just over one-hundred thirty-five pounds, and again the crowd laughed, only this time they were laughing at Wren. The man disregarded Wren with a roll of his eyes and then used both of his hands to give Vince the bird before he spat on what appeared to be brand new, white leather pants. Wren could see the fire forming in Vince’s eyes and quickly remembered what she told them, some dick in the first row with an attitude can’t be the person who makes or breaks this.

Without even giving Vince the opportunity to process what had happened, Wren stepped in front of the man, positioning herself between Vince and the proclaimed dick in the first row with an attitude, and spat back, making sure to hit him where his wife-beater exposed his chest in hopes that it would smear into his beard.

“You bitch!” the man screamed as he lunged toward Wren with fury in his eyes and his arms reaching for her hands. Quickly, Vince grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her backwards while simultaneously jumping off the stage and throwing a punch to her attacker’s jaw. The man seemed to absorb the impact before he quickly threw a jab into Vince’s teeth that sent the blonde flying backwards and landing just short of the stage, beside Wren.

“Thanks,” she huffed as she stared at the blood that fell from Vince’s busted lip.

“Don’t mention it,” Vince responded as he spat the blood trailing from his mouth onto the floor before shoving Wren closer to the ground upon catching a blurred glimpse of white and red. 

Wren looked over Vince’s shoulder to see Nikki swinging his bass violently over his shoulder until it connected with the side of the burly man’s head. Before anyone knew it, Vince and Nikki were throwing punches with a few of the asshole’s friends, Tommy had launched himself from the stage to take down a couple of people who had gone after Nikki, and even Mick had delivered a hard hitting blow to someone trying to charge him as he helped Wren up onto the stage. Wren and Mick watched as the crowd folded away from the fight and bouncers began to gain control over the men who Nikki and Vince were fending off. As the singer and bassist stood off stage, in front of everyone while their drummer straddled and pummeled the guy who had initiated the brawl, they scanned the crowd, searching for a sign of whether or not they’d fucked up their shot of making it on the Strip. Once he’d had enough of the horrified faces meeting his, Nikki re-scanned the crowd in search of Wren. He knew she could get herself into trouble, and it was obvious Tommy was otherwise busy beating up the man who went after her for defending Vince. After last night, he understood her hesitancy towards strangers, her aversion to open spaces, and her displeasure of being touched despite her not saying a word after jabbing her finger into his chest.

Noticing Nikki’s concern, Mick nudged Nikki in the back with his shoe and jutted his head toward where Wren stood behind the curtains off the side of the stage. Bouncers had succeeded in restraining Tommy, throwing him to Vince and Nikki to control, and then tossing the trouble makers outside, but the club lingered in a heavy silence. It felt as if the world had taken in a deep breath and was holding it while everyone else waited for the exhale to breathe again.

“Fuck yeah!” a guy in blue jeans and a red and while baseball t-shirt holding a cigarette screamed. “Mötley Crüe!” Slowly, people began to join in on the whoops and cheers; slowly, the boys realized they hadn’t blown it. Tommy punched Vince’s shoulder before he leapt back on stage and held up his hand to Wren for a crisp high-five which then turned into a bro-hug.

“I’m still pissed at you,” he said through a smile, unable to hide his excitement.

“Just get out there and fuck the audience in the face,” she responded as she rolled her eyes at her best friend as she mimicked the tone he used to justify his suggested band name many nights ago, and then faded back behind the curtain.

Following Tommy’s lead, Nikki and Vince also made their way back to their place on stage, one slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder and the other gripping onto the microphone. As Tommy entered strong on his snare, Nikki and Vince’s eyes met; excitement, adrenaline, and power seemed to electrify the band and with one fluid movement, the pair clasped hands in solidarity. It was the first time those two had ever shared any sort of moment other than light animosity toward one another due to, at first, Vince’s intimidation of Wren, then Lovey’s persistently bad attitude. As soon as their hands left one another’s grasp, the band dove into ‘Take Me To The Top’, and the crowd roared into a rejuvenated life powered entirely by Tommy, Mick, Nikki, and Vince.

Wren was not only impressed by the passion of the crowd, but by their stamina too. Nikki had prepared an eleven song set for tonight, and although parts of the crowd did seem a bit tired after some of the songs, Nikki did a great job of spacing out the slower songs throughout the set. Some of Wren’s favorites made the cut for tonight including ‘On With the Show,’ ‘Piece of Your Action’, and ‘Merry Go Round,’ but the band’s closing song was the one she was waiting for.

“Alright you guys,” Vince called out into the microphone, “We’ve got one more song for you tonight! If you like us and want to hear the same shit for the next two nights, come back and see us tomorrow night and the night after! This last song is a fun one. It kicked my ass for a bit at first, but thanks to one of our own, a miss Wren Ledden, I think we can rock it out for you tonight!” Vince’s interaction with the microphone was so smooth and effortless, as if the mic and its stand were extensions of Vince’s body, and it wasn’t until he turned his back to the audience and waved his hands to get Wren’s attention that she even noticed she’d been gazing out into the crowd, watching how he held the audience captive.

Vince subtly jutted his head toward Wren, but it wasn’t until Tommy pointed at her with his sticks and then made a line from her to the front of the stage that Wren understood what Vince was trying to get her to do. Mick offered her his hand as she climbed up a small step or two, Tommy smiled at his friend—happy in their attempted way to prove to her she was as included in the band as the rest of them—and Nikki nodded at her in admiration as she paced towards Vince. “Before we close out, why don’t you give it up for Wren! Mötley Crüe’s very own Live Wire!” Vince screamed into the mic, the crowd roared with anticipation of the song and blindly celebrated whatever Vince had said, and Mick and Nikki dove head first, full force into what had to have been their heaviest performances of ‘Live Wire’ to date.

Wren hesitated as she stood awkwardly on stage in her workout clothes surrounded by thigh-high leather boot wearing boys with heels high enough to allow Vince and Mick illusion of being taller than her. With a small wave, she tried to take a step back and fade behind the curtain, but Vince reached out for her hand, missed his entrance to the song, and called into the mic, “I think for the right incentive, Wren may share the stage!” Her eyes widened and her stomach fell to the ground as she listened not only to Vince’s words echoing through the club, but also to the wave of screams the cheered.

What were they cheering for? Mötley Crüe…it had to be because of the hype and hard-driving song. Another measure passed and the crowd grew louder. Surely they’re not cheering for me, she thought as her eyes turned to seek the guidance of the rest of the band. Tommy was giddy with glee, Mick was reassuring as he gave a curt nod in her direction, Vince was pumping his fist in the air to get the crowd to cheer louder, and Nikki’s voice left his body in a shout, yet traveled through the air and into Wren’s ears like a whisper over the now doubly long musical intro. “You’ve got this!” With the band’s encouragement, Wren held up her hands in defeat and Vince jumped into the song at the next measure.

She wasn’t the band’s singer, she wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend, she wasn’t a groupie, she was Wren fucking Ledden and she was a part of Mötley Crüe. The power of the band, the thrill of the audience, the electricity coursing through her veins was something she knew she would never get used to, which is why she would never do this again, but for tonight—for Mötley’s first show—it was perfect.

Continued Reading: Next Chapter

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 17 - Age Of Aquarius

Seattle Washington, January 23 1990

(Andi is 20 and 20, Chris is 25)

ANDI: Backstage at The Moore theatre, all of us with Soundgarden and Mother Love Bone were hanging out and having a little pre-show party before Soundgarden was taking the stage. It had been a while since we were all together hanging out and everyone was having the time of their life, especially me given the fact that it is my 20th birthday. Yes, this little time travel wonder was born on this day in 1970. I swear there are some days where I feel a hell of a lot older though. 

After the fight that Andy and Xana had back in December, things have been a little strange around the apartment. You can feel the tension between them. Xana apologized of course especially to me, though I had nothing to do with it. She just felt horrible that she let her temper get the best of her and she never meant for that incident with the T.V to happen. I asked her straight out if she was fucking around with some guy other than Andy and she completely denied it. Swearing up and down that Andy is the only one for her, and I believe her. I just know that something is up because Andy has changed.

Andy has always been that flirtatious, flamboyant, life of the party kind of guy. He can also be pretty shy too when he's not trying to put on a show for everyone. Usually when he's had a few that's when he's pretty showy but living with him over the last year, you can really see how he's just like any other normal guy. So sweet and one of my best friends. Chris and him are so incredibly close too. I swear if I wasn't in the picture, Chris and Andy would be together - and I mean that in the most endearing way of course - they just love each other like brothers if you know what I mean. 

When I found out Andy had been using, I told Chris because I wasn't sure who to talk to about it. It scares me to think that he has to turn to that to feel better. Chris assured me that everything is going to be fine and that he was going to figure out a way to confront him about it, he just didn't want to come on too strong with Andy, because that never works. Chris had said that Andy had gone through this before - which is why Chris asked Andy to move in with him so he could help him get better- and Andy was able to get sober once before so he knows he'll be able to do it again. He just needs time. 

"Happy Birthday love," Andy drops down beside me on the large sectional couch, handing me a box wrapped up in shiny silver paper with a red bow on top.

"Oh, Andy... you didn't have to," I say and take a sip of my beer, then set it down on the table in front of us.

"I know, but I wanted to," He says sweetly taking a sip of his beer and resting his arm on the back of the couch to face me a little more. I flip my curls out of my face and slowly open up the box eyeing him as I unwrap it while he just smirks at me. Eventually I am able to open it and I pull out a double sided picture frame, and as I open it there is a picture of Chris and I that Andy had taken at what looked like one of the many gatherings we have backstage. Chris is holding me as we sit on a couch, in the middle of placing a kiss on my cheek as I'm caught in mid hysterical laughter.

"That was the night he found out that they were nominated for a Grammy..." Andy says and I start to tear up a bit. 

The other side was a picture of Chris with Andy that I had taken, at the photo shoot that Mother Love Bone was doing for their record 'Apple' which is going to be released in April this year. Chris has his arm around Andy, his curls all flipped to one side wearing a Nirvana tank top and Andy just looks so cute standing next to him all in white with that cute little smirk he does sometimes.

I glance at him and he has the sweetest smile spread across his face and I immediately reach over and wrap my arms around him, giving him the biggest hug I could ever give him.

"Thank you," I say quietly, and a little shakily as I try to hold back my tears. He places his hand on my back and gently strokes as I try me best to let go but I don't want to. 

"There's um... there's something else in there too," Andy's voice cracks. I slowly pull away from him, wiping my eye and lift up the picture frame to see a gorgeous dark brown leather guitar strap with all of my favorite bands - Black Sabbath, The Beatles, Aerosmith, Metallica, Guns N Roses and so on - etched into the leather.

"Oh my god this is fucking cool," I giggle and Andy chuckles.

"Here, if you flip it over.... see?" Andy says and shows me the underside of the strap.

"To the most badass goddess of a guitarist I know... Love, L'Andrew the Love Child otherwise known as Andy... 01/23/90" I giggle as I read out loud the inscription that he wrote for me.

"Hey babe," Chris appears, looking extremely amazing in his black baggy shorts and a white fitted tank, his dark curls flowing perfectly passed his shoulders.

"Hi... look... look what I got," I excitedly show Chris my guitar strap as he sits down beside me. "Isn't it fucking cool?" I say smiling away as Andy takes a sip of his beer.

"Yea, baby," Chris smiles at me and Andy rises from the couch, saying something about grabbing another beer and walks away from us to join the others.

"Is that us?" Chris asks gesturing to the picture frame that sat in the box on my lap still.

"Yea, and look... me and you... and you and Andy," I say as I hand it over to him so that he can see. Chris takes a sip of his beer and sets it down on the table in front of us then studies the photos that were in the frame.

"Is this the one you took?" Chris asks glancing at the photo of him and Andy.

"Yea," I smile.

"I look like a dork," Chris says flatly and grabs his beer to take a sip.

"Fuck off, no you don't," I laugh as I playfully slap him in the chest. He nearly chokes on his beer and I stop laughing for a moment, realizing I made him spill some down his chin and to his chest.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," I giggle as I cover my mouth with my hand.

"You're fucking in for it now," Chris smirks setting the beer down on the table.

"No!" I squeal with laughter as he pulls me into him laying me across his lap and kissing my neck me but tickling me as I try to stop him.

"Come to think of it, I haven't given you your birthday spanking yet," Chris says low in my ear.

"Hey, you're not doing that to me with everyone here," I say trying to be serious.

"Oh,  so you want me to, huh?" Chris raises his eyebrow at me and I just bite my bottom lip.

"Maybe," And as I raise my eyebrow at him, I could see his expression turn to lust instantly and just before he could say or do anything else, it was time for Soundgarden to take the stage.

"I fucking love you so much baby," Chris says in my ear, standing just off to the side stage, with his Gibson slung over his shoulder.

"I fucking love you too," I whisper back and he places his lips on mine, my fingers lacing through his thick soft curls, sucking that bottom lip of his and not wanting to let him go.

"And now for your noisy and extremely loud listening pleasure... SOUNDGARDEN!" 

And with that, he pulls away from me and heads out on stage.

*****

"... hands all over, 

words I utter...

Change them into, things you want to...

Like balls of clay...

Put your hands away...

yea... put your hands... those hands... American woman...

stay away from me... American woman... just let me be...

you know I gotta go woman.... I gotta leave... I gotta leave you woman.... bye bye

BYE BYE!!! BYE BYE!!!! BYE BYE!!!! YEA YEA YEAAAAHHHH!!!!"

Hearing Chris somehow turn 'Hands All Over' into 'American Woman' by The Guess Who was just unbelievable. I didn't even realize those songs could work so well together but somehow he is able to pull it off into a medley that is unlike anything I've ever heard. As much as I wanted to hear the rest, I really needed to pee like something fierce, and if I don't go now, I'm gonna pee all over the side stage. I quickly take the last sip of my beer and head down offstage to set the empty bottle down on one of the tables. 

"Hey girl, Happy Birthday," Susan smiles at me.

"Thank you," I smile back pushing my curls out of my eyes.

"Where you going?" She asks.

"Gotta pee... if Chris asks, I'm just in the bathroom," I slur a little bit. I didn't think I had that many drinks but apparently I did.

"Sure," She smiles at me and pats me on my arm and I head down the long fluorescent hallway of The Moore theatre. With my darks curls bouncing as I walk down the hallway in my Doc Martens, I round the corner and make my way towards the washrooms when I see a girl who looks extremely familiar. Her long dark curls hang across her face in ringlets as she looks down at herself adjusting her plain black tank top and mini skirt with Doc Marten's matching mine. She then looks up at me and it was something I haven't encountered in such a long time. 

It's me.

"Hi," She says and for a moment I thought maybe I had too much and that I'm only really just dreaming this but I know for certain that this is me. My future me.

"Hey," I say as if I'm seeing an old acquaintance for the first time in years.

Now like I've explained, I have done this before, but not since I was a little girl. It's not the same as the way all the sci-fi movies and books have explained how this sort of thing works, where if you encounter yourself  - future or past - you run the risk of creating some sort of time warp or black hole or however they describe something bad happening. It's not like that at all. It's just me, in a different time, either younger or older, like you would have a twin or a brother or sister...or something. 

"It's our birthday isn't it?" She asks.

"Um, yea..." I smile shyly, pushing a curl behind my ear.

"I'm sorry I just really have to pee... follow me in?" I say to myself and she nods. I look behind me to see if anybody was looking and it seemed like the coast was clear, so I take her hand and head into the washrooms.

"When are you from?" I ask her as I head into the stall and close the door.

"1990... just a few months from now." She says.

There's was silence between us as I relieved myself, suddenly somehow feeling awkward that I could hear me peeing... that isn't just me sitting on the toilet... er.. you know what I mean.

"I've got to tell you something, and I know I always told you that I wouldn't ever tell you about the future but... I guess in this case I should," She says. I finish my business and pull up my ripped jeans, flush the toilet and open the stall door. 

"Tell me what?" I ask as I move over to the sink and wash my hands.

"It's about Andy... you've got to confront him... help him, anything you can do to just -" She starts becoming frantic, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes.

"Whoa, whoa... hey... what? I mean I know about the whole thing and you already know I told Chris already -" I say as I turn off the sink taps and dry my hands with the paper towel dispenser but she cuts me off.

"No, no... you have to help him Andrea... you... don't understand. If you can somehow make this time travel curse work in our favor, you have to... please..." She starts to cry as my eyebrows knit together in confusion. I slowly move over to her and wrap my arms around her as she cries into my shoulder. It's always been a strange feeling to hold myself because at the same time we both acquire the memory instantly, feel the same feeling of consolation and empathy all at once. 

*****

"Hey baby, where were you?" Chris asks when he comes through the backstage door, Kim Matt and Jason slipping passed him to the dressing room. 

"I just had to pee," I say and he smiles at me, wearing only his shorts and Doc Marten's, his hair still damp from when he was throwing bottles of water all over the stage and the audience. He puts his arm around my shoulders, as I place my hand on his chest, feeling him flex a little. He leans down placing his lips on my temple and whispers how much he loves me while we walk back to the dressing room.

*****************************************************************************************************

[carmenlire]

flower shop owner! alec lightwood ft bookstore owner! magnus bane

I hope you like this doll

read on ao3

Magnus opens the door to the shop and is immediately assaulted with the smell of dirt and plants. He’s never been one for flowers– they just died and smelled like a funeral parlor– but obviously the appeal is there for others.

Apparently that appeal is rather large indeed because the florist’s shop is buzzing this afternoon. There’s a line at the cash register and another half a dozen people are browsing along the neat rows that make up the majority of the shop, examining orchids and herbs and everything in between.

Truth be told, Magnus feels a little out of his depth. He can barely tell a rose from a sunflower and he’s gone through the past twenty-seven years just fine. Being immersed in an environment that he doesn’t know has him feeling a little off-kilter.

Luckily, he must look particularly lost because a gangly worker approaches him, almost knocking off a pot of petunias on his way, though he catches it with hardly a glance.

“Hey, man, welcome to Lightwood Blooms. Can I help you?”

Magnus takes in the dirt smudged apron tied haphazardly around the guy’s waist and his megawatt smile, reluctantly charmed.

“Hello, there,” he replies, gesturing behind him with a hand. “My name is Magnus Bane and I just moved into the space next to here. I’m opening a bookstore, Bane Books, and thought that I should introduce myself to the proprietor here.”

Nodding along, the employee seems in a daze for a second before snorting and holding out a fist for, presumably, Magnus to bump. Which he does so bemusedly.

“My name is Simon and I’m just part time here. Alec and Isabelle were nice enough to give me a job that works around my class schedule. Political science is no joke, you know?” Simon seems to realize that he’s rambling, reigning himself in. “Izzy’s out on delivery but Alec’s in the back starting tomorrow’s arrangements.”

He points to the bright blue swinging doors with the giant lilies painted over them. All around, Lightwood Blooms is a burst of color. Each wall could serve as an accent wall by itself, in bold, deeply saturated colors. It’s warm and inviting with a touch of chipper elegance.

“You can go ahead through the doors and introduce yourself.” Simon turns, chuckling, to help a customer decide on peonies or daffodils and so Magnus starts toward the back, wondering why Simon seemed so amused at him meeting this Alec.

He pushes the door open carefully, not knowing what he’ll find. From his experience, back workrooms are almost always stuffed to the brim with supplies that are in constant threat of toppling over with cramped room for a coat and a thousand pens.

To his surprise, it’s bright and airy and almost half the size of the public space. There are three large stainless steel tables in the middle, each with projects at various stages. One wall is lined with refrigerators full of lone flowers and completed arrangements. Another wall has two small offices. Overall, it’s light and airy and it’s clear that there is a system in place that keeps everything running smoothly.

He’s startled out of his study by a low voice that immediately beckons him closer.

“I’m not done,” the voice growls, impatient. “I told you and Iz that I’d be spending the day in the back catching up on orders and I refuse to talk to the customers. Wouldn’t know a freesia from a dahlia,” he mutters, annoyed.

“Well, I hope you don’t think so poorly of all your clientele,” Magnus replies and feels like someone’s just landed a punch to his gut as the man’s head snaps up and he meets hazel eyes.

“Who are you,” the man demands.

This exasperated stranger is a vision and Magnus doesn’t know how he failed to notice him in the first place. He’s tall with messy hair and a few days worth of stubble gracing his jaw. His gaze is sharp, catching everything, and he looks the antithesis of what Magnus always imagined a florist to be– dark, broody, and antisocial.

Magnus is instantly charmed.

He steps forward and holds out a hand over the table. He flashes his best smile. “My name is Magnus Bane and I’ve bought the place next door. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself to the proprietors of this lovely flower shop.”

It’s quiet for a moment before the dashing stranger slides a hand into his, warm with faint callouses along the palm.

“Alec,” he says, voice tentative yet steady.

Neither one notices that their poor excuse for a handshake– it’s more of an embrace than anything, really– is still going on, both too entranced with the other.

Finally, Magnus snaps back to attention, letting go of Alec’s hand with a faint squeeze. He tries to ignore the shiver that travels up his spine as he swears Alec sweeps a thumb over his palm as he lets go.

Clearing his throat, Magnus says, “I didn’t mean to intrude but your employee, Sherman, did say that I should come back here. I promise I’m not trespassing.”

Alec’s lips quirk. “He’s probably laughing his ass off at springing a stranger on me.” He shakes his head, rueful. “There’s a reason I’m a florist and not a barista.”

“More of a tea person?”

Laughing, Alec replies, “I prefer that my company be silent and impervious to my bad moods.”

“Ah,” Magnus says. “Should I go then?” He starts to turn around, set to leave, when he catches Alec’s aborted gesture of almost grabbing his sleeve.

“No need. It’s probably practical and good business to know who your neighbors are.”

“Probably,” Magnus confirms, smiling.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alec looks at Magnus through his lashes. “So what are you converting the space into? The space next door doesn’t have the best track record. The last three retailers sold enamel pigs, candles, and homemade wine respectively.”

“Enamel pigs,” Magnus asks, confused and a little afraid.

“They were twice my size and painted garishly,” Alec replies, solemn.

Magnus barks out a laugh. “Good to know that my predecessors were so pioneering. I’m opening a bookstore, Bane Books. Nothing so kitschy, I’m afraid.”

Alec interest turns sharp. “A bookstore? The nearest bookstore is almost twenty miles away.”

“That’s one of the reasons I picked this location,” Magnus confirms. “I was looking for a place that there was not only an interest but a void. I’m hoping to have an array of material and host events, even author visits. I think the small town vibe is perfect for the shop, don’t you?”

Alec nods mutely and Magnus chooses to take it as wholehearted agreement and not just mere politeness. It wouldn’t do to ruin someone’s dreams, after all, when they’d just taken out a business loan that had given them their first gray hair.

Smiling, Magnus takes a step back. “It was nice meeting you, Alexander, but I should probably return to my space. A friend is overseeing the renovation and he has a habit of running the contractors out.”

“Good luck,” Alec offers before straightening and heading to one of the fridges at the back. Magnus lingers, curious.

Alec must find what he’s looking for because he turns back around seconds later, small pot in his hands holding a deep purple flower.

“For you,” Alec says, and holds out the flower.

“Any special reason,” Magnus asks, taking the flower in his hands gently. He can’t stop the smile that curves his mouth.

“Think of it as a welcome present.”

“Thank you, Alec.”

Magnus’s voice is sincere and he smiles at Alec before turning and heading out of the swinging doors. He doesn’t catch the startled then gleeful glance that Simon throws his way as he rings up Mrs. Herondale, the dour regular that visits every afternoon.

When Ragnor asks him what on earth he’s carrying, Magnus just shrugs and answers that he’s met the neighbors.

Ragnor glares at the flowers, askance, as Magnus carefully clears a corner of their desk and sets the pot down, staring at the little purple flowers wistfully.

“Alexander,” Magnus cries. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

Alec looks strangely vulnerable without his apron and plant shears. He’s dressed in a denim button down and black skinny jeans complete with his customary combat boots. He’s holding a clear glass vase with a pink ribbon tied around it.

Magnus accepts the offer, sniffing the flowers and trying to hide his grimace. He’s gotten to know Alec over the past few months as renovations took place at Bane’s Books and Alec always gave him something– herbs, vases, a single bloom in a clay pot. It was an adorable quirk and definitely isn’t helping the crush that Magnus is trying desperately to bury.

“Thank you,” Magnus says, admiring the white flowers. He looks up and sees Alec already looking at him.

“Peace lilies. They’re for good luck and calming stress,” Alec says easily. “Seemed appropriate for a new business owner.”

“Thank you,” Magnus repeats, softer this time. It was opening day of his store and the place is packed. He sees Raphael and Maia manning the counter and his heart sings at the line of people waiting to purchase their items.

“I’ll have to start repaying you,” Magnus teases.

Alec smiles, ducking his head down. The gesture makes Magnus’s heart melt, the damned traitor.

Someone catches his attention from across the store– a couple who looks confused at the journal display– and Magnus gives Alec an apologetic look. “It looks like someone needs my help–”

Alec waves him away. “Go do your job. I can entertain myself.”

“But since he’s so boring, I’ll keep him out of your hair,” Izzy grins, slipping an arm around Alec waist as she smiles at Magnus. “Congratulations,” she says, making a show of looking around the store impressed.

“Thank you, Isabelle,” Magnus says warmly. He throws one last smile over his shoulder as he goes to attend to his guests– the customers of this small town that will make or break him.

It’s a few hours later, the sun long since gone down when Magnus pauses for a breath. He’d helped fix the dozen little things that were bound to go wrong on his first day of business– one of the cash registers started beeping angrily with an error message blaring across the screen, they’d run out of bags, and someone had spilled wine on another’s dress.

Magnus had found out later that the two women had a feud going back several years and that he could consider their spat in the middle of his store a sort of rite of passage into the town.

Magnus was exhausted. His feet were sore, he was running on pure caffeine and a buzzing sort of energy, and he was so relieved that he wasn’t an unmitigated disaster– at least his first day.

The store is starting to clear out. Magnus glances at the clock against the wall and sees that the store will be closing in less than an hour.

He’s on his way to the checkout counter, to check in on his staff, when a tall figure catches his attention. Instead, he ends up walking over to the romance section, of all things.

“Alexander, what are you still doing here?”

Alec looks up, a frown of concentration still marring his brow, and Magnus resists the urge to reach out and smooth it away.

Alec holds up the book he was looking at before shaking the basket slung over his arm. “I figured that since I was here that I might as well make the best of it. You have a great collection.”

Grinning, Magnus takes a quick peek at the half dozen books Alec’s acquired and sees everything from cooking books to classic novels. “I’m glad we could cater to your eclectic tastes.”

“I like a bit of everything,” Alec agrees. He looks over Magnus. “How are you holding up?”

Magnus blinks. “Oh, I’m doing perfect. The first day was a success and nothing disastrous happened and I get to spend a few minutes talking to my favorite florist.”

Magnus immediately clamps his mouth shut, wondering why the hell he’d said that. It must be the opening stress catching up to him. He’d been working round the clock– sometimes eighteen hour days– leading up to the grand opening and today has been long, no matter that it’s gone so well.

Alec seems to take it in stride, though Magnus thinks that he can detect a faint blush rushing across his cheeks.

“I asked how you were doing, not the store. I still remember what it was like when Izzy and I decided to open Lightwood Blooms. We slept, ate, and breathed the store for the first year or so.”

“When did you open the shop?”

“I was twenty three and Izzy was only twenty one.”

“Magnus raises a brow, impressed. “That was quite the undertaking, especially so young.”

Shrugging, Alec explains, “We’d always talked about opening up a business together. Flowers were a natural fit.”

“Forgive me, darling, but I don’t think that anyone would look at you and automatically assume that you have a passion for flora.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec says, “It’s calming. You get to shape something out of nothing and it’s for a special occasion, an event. Sometimes it’s just because the customer wanted a spot of brightness in their day. I was made for this.”

Magnus’s eyes soften as he takes in Alec’s impassioned speech. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me but I appreciate the insight nonetheless,” he says and hopes that his heart eyes aren’t too obvious.

Maia waves him over and Alec sees the motion, gesturing to his book. “I should get going,” he says. “I have work in the morning.”

“Tough boss,” Magnus asks, laughing.

Alec just gives him a stern look. “He’s a stickler for the rules.”

“Well, we can’t have you breaking the rules now, can we?”

Without thinking about it, Magnus leans forward and picks up one of his favorite books, a romance between a professor and a celebrity set in New York. The two of them make their way to the counter where Raphael rings Alec out.

“Here, dear, include this at no charge.” Magnus hands the book over and sees the trio giving him confused looks.

“Magnus, this is your grand day opening. I’m supposed to pay for the merchandise,” Alec says deadpan.

Magnus just shrugs. “You’ve been giving me flowers for weeks, Alexander. Think of this as a token of my appreciation– both for the flowers and for being the first friendly face I met here.”

Alec smiles, ducking his head so that Magnus can’t quite see his expression. “Then, thank you Magnus for the book and not being another terrible neighbor.”

The two of them just stare at each other before startling as Raphael clears his throat pointedly.

Magnus snaps back to action, pointing at the bag of books. “The book I gave you, Higher than the Big Trees, is my favorite of all time. I read my first copy cover to cover in college until it was falling apart.”

“I can’t wait to read it, then.”

Alec swipes his card and pays as he exchanges increasingly incredulous looks from Maia. Finally, he sends her a glare before Alec straightens from signing the receipt and smiles at him.

Magnus helplessly smiles back.

“Congratulations, Magnus. You’ve worked hard and it looks like it’s paid off.”

“Thank you, Alexander. I’m glad I could share this with you.”

They share a charged look before a loud noise makes them both jump. Turning, they see that Simon knocked a display of books over, causing them to crash to the floor. Before Magnus can rush over, though, Maia’s already rounding the counter.

Magnus turns back to Alec as they each take a step back. They exchange one last round of goodbyes before Alec heads to the front door into the chilly October evening.

Magnus sighs and refuses to look away from the entrance for just another minute.

Most of it is that he just knows that Raphael is leveling an exasperated look at his back.

He can’t deny that a small part, though, is that he simply doesn’t want Alec out of his sight.

The fall and winter pass in a blur. Magnus grows even closer to Alec as the trees lose their leaves and their small upstate town is pummeled with snow.

They share meals and lunch hour conversation and Magnus can’t believe how easy things are with Alec. He didn’t think it was possible to become friends so quickly, so completely, especially as an adult.

He’s confided in Alec– truthfully, Alec has been his rock. It’s been wonderful getting to know the man behind the blossoms. Alec is smart and sarcastic and has a heart of gold and a mind that never stops. Every time Alec listens to his latest disaster as an entrepreneur and offers his sympathy along with practical advice, Magnus falls a little bit more.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t made a move, really. As Magnus completes inventory during a slow, rainy morning, he lets his mind wander.

Through the chaos and stress that is opening a new business, Alec has been by his side. They’ve shared pizza while marathoning scary movies and he’d even persuaded Alec to go to a local play with him.

There have been a few times when he thought maybe– Magnus had slipped while putting up Christmas lights outside of his store window one December morning and thankfully Alec had caught him. He hadn’t let go right away and as Magnus’s gaze had dropped to lips red with the cold, he swore that he heard Alec’s breath stutter.

The moment had been frozen, on the precipice of almost, but Alec had summarily released him and stepped back, retreating to his flower shop to complete suddenly urgent orders.

Alec had fallen asleep at Magnus’s place over pad thai and Brooklyn Nine Nine the evening after Valentine’s day, exhausted from the influx of orders, and Magnus had thrown a blanket over Alec’s snoring form before resuming the show– only to end up falling asleep with his head on Alec’s shoulder.

Thankfully, the next morning hadn’t been half as awkward as it could have been but Magnus had been filled with the possibility.

Magnus crouches down, maneuvering books to get an accurate count when he hears the bell chime above the front door. He debates for a second but decides to leave the customer be. Raphael is easily visible at the counter and can help if need be.

He’s so absorbed in inventory and his swirling, confusing thoughts about Alec that he doesn’t hear the footsteps that lead unerring to him.

“Hey, Magnus.”

Magnus’s gaze flies up and he sees Alec in an oversized sweater, the sleeves hanging over his hands. He stands, leaving his clipboard on the floor and meets Alec’s eyes.

“Alexander, what are you doing here?” Magnus, though delighted, is a little confused. The mornings are Alec’s busiest time of the day and they didn’t have plans. He has to admit that he’s curious about the flowers in his hand, though. Alec is always bringing him something and it’s endearing as hell.

Clearing his throat, Alec says, “I read that book of poetry you gave me– finished it last night, actually.”

“That’s great! How did you like Letters to a Stranger?” The collection in question was one of only a few volumes of poetry that Magnus liked, let alone would recommend.

“It was good– really good,” Alec says. He looks at Magnus like he’s asking a question and Magnus desperately tries to temper his expression, hoping to provide the answer that Alec wants.

He must pass because Alec clears his throat before running a rand through his hair. “I wish that I’d had that book in high school, “ he says. “I spent a lot of years, most of my adolescence, struggling with being gay and just knowing that there was someone out there like me, let alone an entire book, would have probably worked wonders.”

Magnus’s brain screeches to a halt as he processes that Alec just explicitly came out to him. While part of him is ecstatic to learn that at least Alec’s sexuality isn’t a hindrance, he’s overwhelmed with gratitude.

Without thinking, he lays a hand on Alec’s arm, stepping closer. “Thank you for telling me that. I’m glad that you trust me enough to let me in.’ He laughs, self deprecating. “I’m in the same boat, you know. I was raised in small Midwest city and when I realized that I was bisexual, it was a little isolating. I put on a front but there were some difficult days. Luckily, I found books. Back then, ten years ago, there weren’t as many stories about people like me– like us– and I’m so glad that it’s changed now. I have another collection, Not Here by Nguyen, that I read last summer just before I moved from the city and I immediately reread it as soon as I finished the last page. I can show you where it is?”

Alec nods without saying a word and Magnus leads them to the poetry section, easily pulling out a copy of the book.

“Thank you Magnus,” Alec says. “Not just for the book but for telling me another piece of your story.”

“There’s no one else that I’d rather tell, Alexander,” Magnus replies, warm and soft and altogether too obvious.

Alec scans over the cover of the book before tucking it under his arm and holding out the arrangement of flowers. “Happy Wednesday.”

Magnus accepts the flowers with a smile. While Magnus commissioned some flowers to spruce up his bookstore and had even collaborated with Alec on an event or two, it never failed to make him melt when Alec appeared with flowers.

“What are these,” Magnus asks, sniffing the blooms. They might still smell hideous but it’s the thought that counts and Magnus doesn’t let it faze him. He’s still hopeless at flowers, but Alec has a few species that he uses frequently. Magnus has caught onto the names of the standard roses and sunflowers and chrysanthemums. These are in an array of colors and look downright fun.

“They’re daffodils. Today’s a nice day and I thought it only appropriate to celebrate with a bold flower.”

“I love them, Alexander. Thank you.”

Alec shrugs, infuriatingly nonchalant and Magnus wonders that he’s the only person who receives flowers on a regular basis in such a purely platonic fashion.

Magnus bites back a sigh. More’s the pity.

Alec leaves the shop a few minutes later, book in hand and Magnus walks to the checkout counter, where he sets the vase of flowers next to the register. He fiddles with the petals, sighing over the softness, and wonders if there’s anything there or if he’s just hopelessly hopeful as usual.

From where he’s counting money out of the register, Raphael gives him a side glance. “How long will it take for you to get a clue?”

“What are you on about today, Raphael?”

Rolling his eyes, Raphael tallies the total. “When are you going to realize that Alec’s in love with you?”

Magnus looks up, arching a brow. “I assure you that I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear. Alec and I are just friends and I don’t know if there’s anything more to it, no matter how much I might wish.”

Raphael abandons the register, all of his attention now on Magnus, glaring in exasperation. “He’s been telling you how he feels for months now.”

Magnus makes a show of looking around the store. “Oh? How could I have missed the thousand clues he’s left me?”

If anything, Raphael just grows more annoyed “He’s a florist. He’s speaking to you in his own language. Sound familiar?”

Magnus feels pinned beneath Raphael’s glowering challenge. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, eyes narrowed.

Raphael scoffs. “You’ve only been giving him your favorite books since the store opened and you discuss each one. There are some that even I didn’t know were special to you, or why. You’re telling Alec how you feel by letting him into your world. Is it so out of the box that Lightwood would do the same?”

Magnus tries to think but, “You know that I don’t know anything about flowers.”

Smirking, Raphael reaches in the drawer under the counter, pulling out a single sheet of paper and handing it to Magnus. Magnus accepts, reluctantly, and as he looks down at it he feels his heart stop before it starts beating a mile a minute.

It’s a list. Raphael had recorded every time that Alec had brought Magnus flowers, along with the flower type. In the third column, however, is what those flowers symbolize and Magnus can’t believe it as he reads meanings including everlasting friendship, passion, and first signs of love.

Magnus skims over the dozens of columns. The list isn’t even complete. Raphael doesn’t know about the times that Alec brought Magnus flowers when they were hanging out on the weekend or going out to dinner after a stressful day.

As Magnus sees the meaning of daffodils, though, he lets out a shuddering breath and lets the full force of his hope hit him.

Daffodils symbolize unrequited love.

It’s quiet in the store as Magnus thinks over the past months. He’d chalked up any sign of Alec reciprocating his love as his imagination and wishful thinking but with Raphael’s list, surely it wasn’t all in his head?

Alec is a florist– he has to know what the flowers mean.

Magnus looks up, dazed, and sees Raphael’s smug expression. “Shut up,” he says absently.

Suddenly, he reaches for his phone and opens a new Google tab. He scrolls through links and looks through pictures before his eyes glue to one plant in particular. When he reads the description, he knows that he’s found it.

He doesn’t deign to respond to Raphael before he’s leaving the bookstore. Flinging open the door of Alec’s flower shop, he only has eyes for the man who’s helping an elderly woman choose between two colors of roses.

“Ambrosia,” Magnus calls out. He’s nervous but there’s an underlying current of certainty– it’s time that he went after what he wanted, damn the consequences.

Alec looks up in confusion, eyes brightening as they land on Magnus. “Hey, what’s up? Do you need something?”

Now that he’s looking for it, now that he knows that it isn’t just his own yearning reflected in Alec’s eyes, Magnus steels his nerves before stepping forward.

“I’d like some ambrosia,” he says, voice steady and sure.

Alec starts to frown, brow crinkled in thought before his face goes blank. Magnus worries for a moment that he actually has read this situation entirely wrong– damn Raphael, he’s so fired– when Alec takes his own step forward, towards Magnus.

Alec keeps walking, footsteps sure but hesitant, until he’s within arms reach. His eyes search Magnus’s as he whispers, “Why do you need ambrosia?”

Closing the distance, Magnus cups Alec’s face in his hands, peering into Alec’s beautiful hazel eyes with wonder and a sort of amused joy. “Because,” he says, “I just realized that someone’s been talking to me for ages and it’s about time I responded.”

Magnus watches the instant grin that lights up Alec’s face as he processes the words. “People aren’t usually fluent in my language.”

“Maybe not,” Magnus says, sweeping his thumb along Alec’s cheek. He feels anticipation like a living wire, just under his skin. “But I want to be fluent in you.”

He hears Alec’s quick intake of breath and then he can’t think at all. Alec pulls him close, sliding hands over his hips and kisses him for all he’s worth.

Magnus does his best to just hold on and loses himself in Alec.

It’s hot but unbearably soft and Magnus distantly wonders how he didn’t do this sooner. The kiss spins out and his senses are clouded by Alec, his Alexander– by the smell of soil and flowers with the undercurrent of Alec’s cologne and the way Alec’s hands bite into his hips in the best way.

When they break apart long seconds later, Magnus feels changed, new. He tries to regulate his breathing and grins when he hears how out of breath Alec is, too.

They grin at each other, lost to everything else. Magnus pulls Alec back, laying a lingering kiss on his mouth and humming in contentment before moving to his cheek and jaw and brow.

“Well, it was about time, dear.”

Magnus startles as the old woman Alec was helping earlier walks up to them and pats both of them on the shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

She just laughs like it’s the funniest joke that Magnus has ever told. “I’ve been telling young Alec here for months to get off his tush and tell you how he felt but he just ignored me. It’s obvious to the whole town that the two of you have been dancing around each other since you moved here last year. There’s even a bet down at the Institute Bar about when the two of you will figure things out and put the rest of us out of our misery.”

Magnus looks at her agog, gratified as he sees Alec do the same.

“It’s true you know,” Isabelle says, walking out of the back room with an arm full of herb pots. “I bet a hundred dollars that you two wouldn’t have gotten your shit together until Christmas– of next year.”

Alec glares at his sister before looking at Magnus. “I didn’t know that we were such hot gossip,” he says, a smile in his eyes.

Magnus winds his arms around Alec as he replies, “Haven’t you heard? Love is the most interesting story of all.”

[atlanticcocean]

My Mental Health as of 5 months ago.

In the middle of the ocean is a torrential hurricane. Waves the size of tsunamis and my boat has long since capsized. With each breath I take it feels like a new wave crashing down on me, forcing my head deeper into the water whenever I try to reach the surface. My lungs are out of air- the waves pushed it all out; so I can't allow myself to just float to the surface. I have to kick and claw desperately at the water to try and rise. The water is cold and weighs on my limbs like lead; wrapping icily around my limbs, turning them to rusted iron that creaks as they move, and the fog at the edge of my vision is closing in more and more as the oxygen starvation kicks in. Just as my head breaks the surface I gasp for air and choke on salt water and rain that swarms the ocean's surface. Just as I can grab that one half-gulp of air, another wave crashes on top of my head and pulls me back under, and the struggle begins again. There is no rest, no break, no salvation; just fighting or drowning.

My body bleeds into the water around me as I quietly exist. My silhouette feels like a suggestion, and the slightest shift in the water will turn me into a swirl of a shape. It means when I move I feel my arms dissipate and reappear every second, as I see them, real and solid before my eyes. My chest feels like it's being crushed by a thousand weights- right on my sternum. It constrics my chest and makes the world feel smaller around me. My lungs feel like they're so overused and full of air that they risk tearing themselves in order to relieve some of the pressure. This feeling rises up into my throat and slices razor cuts up my oesophagus and scores my tongue, splitting it into a serpentine fork.

I can crack my head open in a hundred ways: the skull grows spikes that force their way out of the surface of my skin, protruding like stalactites as a way to fight back the harshness of the light and cold, or to stop my eyes from crawling out of their sockets again. Deep incisions underneath my jaw cut through my mouth and the adjacent cheek, sometimes with some kind of tool- a bar or a saw perhaps- sticking out of my face like some sort of sick piercing.

Sometimes my mouth is sewn shut, sometimes I don't have lips; just exposed teeth, and sometimes I don't have a mouth at all. It makes speaking seem like a delusion; successfully hiding the creature I'm becoming from the eyes that cannot see my true body.

My ears bleed or are shredded, torn off by my own fingernails. My tendons and ligaments are strung up on my wrist using fish hooks protruding from my forearms.

Claw marks, bullet holes, scratches, bite marks and holes pepper my torso. They trace my ribs and take up residence in the softest and most vulnerable places on me. Sometimes they're red and raw, sometimes they're old white scars carved so deeply into me it's as if I was a discarded clay plaything, long since dried out and cracked.

Sometimes my limbs go missing. Some fingers, a chunk of my throat, or most commonly, my left leg is missing, just up until under the knee joint. I walk on a real falsehood when this happens. When I write or draw and paint and then both my hands are hacked off, or my wrists slice open and the blood crawls up my arms, into my mouth and up my nose, into my sinuses and wrap around my eyes, blinding me with my own blood.

Sometimes large areas of my skin are flayed red and raw, leaving me even more naked to the watchers in the walls. They're looking at all of me- even the parts I shouldn't be able to and can't see. The watchers in the walls are eyeballs that always watch, never resting. Some perverted panoptic observer, dissecting my every move and thought. Sometimes the eyes turn into hundreds of CCTV cameras. Sometimes the eyes are on the inside of my skull, or underneath my blanket. Sometimes I'm under the impression that it's the watchers that split me apart. I feel like a sack of blood loosely stitched together and animated to walk. I don't feel human. I don't feel like a person. I love fiercely and trust with my whole heart, but all my perceptions of the world around me aren't really mine, they were taught to me. The words I use to describe my environment- what I like and dislike, what's good and bad was never decided by me, but was informed by what people often said TO me.

I don't understand what makes something beautiful. I can see and recognise beauty, but there are so many things in my life that I look at and recognise as beautiful and feel nothing. Does that mean I truly believe that? I learned through association, and it's only because of recent events that it occurred to me to question all that I knew about myself and how I thought. I was forced to challenge my beliefs in every aspect over and over again and I have been stripped down to my crudely scraped bones and dried up marrow.

I thought as I grew up I'd figure out how to be a human being but I'm more lost than ever. For the last decade all I have known is to try and break the surface of the ocean and tread water.

But recently a life preserver has been thrown my way by someone else who is in the middle of this storm. I'm hauled onto a raft that seems to be held together by nothing but kindness and spite and I am held in warm arms and another gargantuan wave looms overhead. But for the past decade all I have known is how not to drown. For this moment I'm no longer in the water. I no longer know what I am. I don't know what I am without the water in my lungs. I never had the opportunity to learn.

The cold water crept its way into my mouth and down my throat until I gagged. It tossed me back and forth as it pleased, and if I tried to resist I was met with icy riptides and despair. The water swarmed my arms and chest and robbed me of any sense of up or down. It snaked its way between my legs and tore me apart from the inside out, tearing away the warmth, comfort, security or confidence I had in myself. And every time i felt the brine in my sinus or the salt sting my eyes i just kept telling myself that “this is the nature of the sea. It cannot be helped, and it cannot be resisted. Save your strength for when the water calms”. I did not realise that patience and endurance were not the same. Patience yields focus, while endurance dulls the blade. It does not matter how strong people may see themselves; eventually even gods bleed.

And now I can feel steady hands and honest warmth. I do not know what to do with it, other than cling onto it with all my might. The dark grey-blue breaks and a ray of gold peeks through. I turn to my new companion and I see how long he has been trapped in this storm. His eyes blend in with the water and hold the same iron will as the storm trying to drown us. He pulls up a makeshift sail that pulls us full force towards the water mountain looming ahead of us. I grab onto the cracked mast of the HMS Determination and brace myself to see what crests first: us, or the wave.

The thrill is exhilarating and the maneuver is risky. Sailing is what got me in this mess in the first place- perhaps it would be best to continue to swim? If this stubborn little raft capsized, that's it. There's no reason to keep swimming. There aren't any other rescues around. I've put all of my life preservers in this one dingy, and i'm going to enjoy breathing air while i can. It’s our turn to be able to breathe. On this raft the eyes at the bottom of the sea cannot hunt me, and my crewmate can stitch me up when the threads come loose. I have no choice but to trust him, and to me that is a privilege.

We reach the top of the wave before it crests and in a moment of euphoria, I see land silhouetted against the flash of lightning a few miles east of us. I cry out in desperate joy as the Determination races dangerously down the other side of the wave, threatening to capsize as it goes. A small curl catches the corner of our raft and sends me toppling back into the waves; but before I hit the water, a strong grip around my waist.

“I've got you,” I hear as we tumble back into the centre of the raft. And I believe him. That's twice he has saved my life with no expectations in return.

I've got you.

The storm is still raging and we are far from shore as of yet, but the watchers are less prominent, and with him stitching me together I am dissolving a little less.

I've got you.

I am still cold and drenched in sea water. My blood mixes with the water on my skin and on my clothes and coats everything on me that I can see. But I have a direction and a purpose now. I cannot guarantee that I will get to shore, but I am confident now that I stand a better chance than before.

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 15 - The First Date

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.5k words

Chapter 15 - The First Date

“So, you managed to score a date with her, hm?” Jisoo hummed, resting her chin in her hand. Jimin, in celebration of his newest work victory of getting the highest number of new clients last month, invited his friends over for dinner and drinks in the middle of the week.

            “Yeah,” Taehyung said as he leaned back on the couch and took a sip of his first and only beer of the night. Taehyung remembered what happened the last time he drank on a weeknight, so he made sure to be careful. He had come too far to screw it all up now. “She said that this upcoming Sunday afternoon works best for her.”

            “Ooooo, lucky.” Taeyong grinned. He ran a hand through his hair as he rested back in Jimin’s love seat, a beer in his hand as well. “Kim Taehyung, finally moving up in the world.” Taehyung could only chuckle at his friends’ silly comments. “So where do you plan to take the lady?”

            “There’s a nice hilly area about 45 minutes out of Seoul, so I plan to take her there to paint and eat,” Taehyung said. “Anyway, can we please stop talking about it? Isn’t this Jimin’s celebratory party?”

            Jimin’s eyes flickered towards his friend at the sound of his name, and he set down his bottle on the table. “Yes, and we can celebrate by hearing all about your date plans.” He teased, grinning when his best friend simply rolled his eyes.

            “I bet you Hoseok-Hyung isn’t bothering her about the date right now,” Taehyung said simply, leaning back. “Why can’t I have a friend like that?”

            “Okay, maybe you’re right,” Jimin said simply. “Maybe he isn’t bothering her about the date. But I know for a fact someone else is.” Taehyung pursed his lips together, thinking about what Jimin could mean by his slightly vague comment.

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

            “Aaaah, my little girl is all grown up, getting dates left and right!” Seokjin cheered his hands on your shoulders. The older gentleman had been sure to stop by your apartment with supplies he offered to pick up for upcoming activities at work, bringing them to you so you had ample time to work on them at home. Well, at least, that’s what he said brought him out of his way to your house. His real reason, however, was much more sinister.

            “You aren’t my father, Mr. Kim.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you entered your kitchen, Seokjin trotting behind. “How the hell did you even find out, anyway?”

            Seokjin didn’t even waste a moment to think about his answer. “Hoseok.” He said quickly, grinning when you turned to look at him. “While you were talking to Taehyung, Hoseok came flying into my office shouting that he had finally asked you out.”

            “…You said that like you knew something I didn’t.”

            “I’m your Boss. That’s my job.” Seokjin teased, and finally, a chuckle escaped your lips. Seokjin took the next few minutes to prod you about details, while you were stuck in front of the sink doing your dishes that were beginning to pile up. You only shared what you knew, which wasn’t much and motioned to the painting that was sitting on your coffee table. Seokjin hurried over to it and lifted it. “Wooooow, it’s nice.” He grinned. “What a talent we have working for us, huh? Man, and to think the parents only get to see his finger painting and clay models, when really, he can do stuff like this.”

            “I guess…” You said, glancing over at him.

            “You don’t sound too excited for this date.”

            “It’s not that.” You said simply. “I just didn’t think you would be happy. You have been pushing me to pursue Namjoon for like a year and now all of a sudden you’re switching gears?”

            “No,” Seokjin said simply. “I just want to help you find someone, that’s all. Doesn’t matter to me who it is.” When his only response from you was a strained grunt, he looked back towards the kitchen. “You work yourself too hard, you deserve to take time for yourself and date and be a young adult.”

            “Why, because soon I’ll be old like you?” You grinned.

            “Oi!” Seokjin gasped. “I’m your boss, you know.”

            “Yeah, but I’m not clocked in. Now, unless you plan to help me make 20 baggies of supplies for the next month, I suggest your head out and let me get to work.” Seokjin pouted as he walked you enter the living room, patting his shoulder. “Thank you for bringing all of the supplies.”

            “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Seokjin hummed, a pout on his face as you showed him to the door. “I meant what I said though.” He added. “About you deserving to take time for yourself.” A smile graced your lips as you rested against the doorframe.        

            “Thank you.” You said simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Seokjin nodded, waving his goodbyes as he exited the apartment and finally allowed you to close and lock the door. When you were alone in your apartment, you turned to the materials that were laid out on your coffee table and sighed, walking over to them to get to work. “Alright then, let’s get a move on.”

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            Sunday couldn’t arrive any faster for Taehyung. That morning, he woke up and made sure everything was prepared for the afternoon. The picnic was packed and ready, his supplies were stuffed into his traveler’s pack, and he felt good. A bit nervous, but good. Taehyung found himself standing at the meeting spot he had texted you, a train station that acted as a meeting point between both of your homes. He arrived early, not wanting to make you the one that had to wait for him to arrive. He had never really dated in the past, but his mother was sure to constantly drill basic manners into his skull every time the duo would talk.

            Taehyung paced the platform of the train station, anxiously eating a bagel he had grabbed on the walk over here. As minutes ticked away, he kept wondering different things. “What will she be wearing? Would it be cute? It has to be cute, especially if it’s anything like what she wore to the Art Festival. I wonder what she’s going to think of the lunch I made. Geez, I hope she doesn’t-.”

            Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted by his name being called. When he looked up, he saw you approaching him, descending the steps of the platform. You were wearing a cream-colored, long pants romper, with a white tee shirt underneath. Your hair was tugged up into a curly ponytail, and across your chest laid that same cream bag you had at the art festival. Taehyung couldn’t help but stare as he watched you hurry up to him. “Hey! Sorry, I was worried I would be late.”

            “The train isn’t supposed to arrive for another like 15 minutes or so.” Taehyung smiled. “So, don’t worry.” He watched as a sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you fixed your bag. “You look nice.”          

            “Thank you.” You smiled. “My sister and I went shopping yesterday and I fell in love with the outfit. I’m glad I got to try it out today.”

            “Heh, me too.” Taehyung blinked. You tilted your head, eyes scanning the bag on his back.

            “What’s that for?” you asked curiously. “I thought we were just going on a picnic.”

            “Oh, you’ll see.” Taehyung grinned a playfully devilish grin, and you frown.

            “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you? Is that why we have to go all the way out of Seoul instead of to a local park?” Taehyung laughed a bit, shaking his head. “I can’t fight back, but I can scream pretty loud.”

            “I know, I hear you down the hall every day,” Taehyung admitted, fixing his hair. When he heard you laugh, his eyes had to drop to his shoes. Maybe it was because the context of the meet up was different today, but Taehyung was finding it incredibly difficult to look you in the eyes once you were standing so close to him.

            The train arrived, and Taehyung helped you on, before quickly finding you a seat by one of the windows. As the train began to pull from the station, neither one of you said anything. Taehyung glanced over at you, watching as you turned your head to look out the window, similar to a little child who was watching the world pass by in a blur. It made Taehyung chuckle a bit, leaning back in his seat. “It shouldn’t take us too long to get there.” He said.

            “I’m kind of excited to match this place to the picture you created. I’m expecting total accuracy.” Taehyung smiled as he watched you turn your eyes back towards the window. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out of Seoul, you know?” Taehyung nodded, a nervous hand finding a home in his curly locks as he stared at her. “I’m excited.”

            “I hope you enjoy it. I know it’s not a 5 five restaurant or A-list event, so-.” You immediately shoved him.

            “If you’re’ going to spend the entire time comparing yourself to Namjoon then you might as well take me on the next train home. I would not have accepted your date if all I wanted was a fancy dinner or big parties. I thought I told you that.”

            “You did. I’m sorry.” He said. “I just want you to have a good time.” Just as he said that Taehyung noticed you scoot a bit closer to him, fixing the curly ponytail resting on your head.

            “Then why don’t you tell me what’s in your backpack?” You asked curiously. Taehyung blinked curiously, looking down at the bag he had placed carefully on his lap. “I’m curious.”

            “The picnic food is in here.” He said quickly. Your lips puckered together in an unamused pout, and Taehyung couldn’t help but grin. “What? It’s true!”

            “I don’t believe you but…okay.” You turned your head back to the window and decided that the conversation could simply end there for now.

The train pulled up to the train station 45 minutes later, and Taehyung immediately hopped up, looking over at you. “Are you ready?” He asked curiously. Nodding, you stood up and followed Taehyung onto the platform. Almost immediately, the bright air of the countryside hit you. It was cool, fresh, crisp air that contrasted with the heavy, sometimes suffocating air that awaited you every time you walked out into the city streets. It was almost as if you were looking into the painting that Taehyung had given you once again, though you knew that you weren’t. This was the real deal. When was the last time you had been somewhere so lovely? You couldn’t remember. Taehyung must have noticed you were scanning the area right around the outdoor platform, and he quickly took hold of your hand. You immediately looked in his direction, eyes slightly wide in shock of his actions. “You look like you’ve never seen the countryside before. If you’re so shocked, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Oooh, okay.” You chuckled a bit, following as Taehyung led you out of the platform and onto the nearby street. “It’s only a short walk from here, so it’ll build your appetite.” A chuckle escaped your lips as Taehyung led you off. The trip down the dirt track was silent for a while, both of you taking the time to enjoy the bright scenery around you. It was only a matter of time before you noticed Taehyung’s step begin to slow, and you quickly followed to keep his pace. “Are we here?” You asked curiously. Taehyung looked at you, nodding happily as he motioned ahead of him. As you followed his gaze, you noticed a grassy hill with a small trail. There were hints of flowers that were peaking up out of the grass, various colors adding pops of life to the grassy base they were given to start with. There wasn’t much on the hill other than these flowers, but the green grass in contrast with the bright, blue sky made it feel like something out of a story.

Or something out of a painting.

“Okay, the accuracy is pretty much there.” You said, and Taehyung laughed. “This is pretty, wow…” Taehyung gently tugged your hand, nonverbally leading you up the trail to the top of the hill. It was a bit of a trek, but the view was worth it, providing both of you with a beautiful view of the local countryside. You slowly sank onto the grass, the gentle strands brushing against the palms of your hands and tickling your ankles that peeked out from under your pants. When you looked over, you saw Taehyung set his bag down, and kneel to open it. First, he pulled out the picnic blanket and picnic basket, setting it all down. Quickly, you scurried onto the checkered pattern to prevent it from blowing away, before opening the picnic basket of food. Inside, you saw tons of Tupperware that contained tons of different things inside, from rice to meats, to veggies, to snacks, and not to mention every single drink that your local convenient store could provide. It was like a bento box but separated into different boxes. It was cute, in a way. A smile formed on your face. “Wow, this is pretty impressive.” Taehyung sat beside you, watching as you lifted out a few different Tupperware and set them around. He lifted out a bottle of flavored water, handing it to you. “Thanks.” You smiled happily. “Did you cook all of this?” you asked curiously. Taehyung couldn’t help but turn a bit pink, scratching his cheek as shyness overcame him.

“Well, I cooked it…but Yoongi-Hyung was a big help in teaching me the cooking basics.” A small grin formed on your face as you crossed your legs, arms folding over your chest as you turned directly towards Taehyung, who was opening his bottle of water.

“Okay, well I need to hear this one.” You said simply.

----Yesterday-----

“HYUNG I NEED YOUR HELP!” Frantic screams rang through the tiny apartment. Taehyung was standing in his kitchen, his face and hands messy with several failed mixing attempts around him.

            “I can’t help you if I’m deaf, Taehyung!” Yoongi shouted from the other line. “What do you need help with?”

            “I have to start planning for this picnic tomorrow and I have no idea how to cook anything other than sandwiches and cereal.” Taehyung looked down at the mess that covered his countertop, trying to see if he could spot anything salvageable, anything he could use to make something edible for you tomorrow. His frantic panicking was disrupted by a muffled sigh on the other end of the phone.

            “Taehyung, why don’t you just make some sandwiches then?” He asked.

            “Well, I don’t want her to think I can’t cook!” Taehyung said.

            “So, you want to lie?” Yoongi asked, and Taehyung heard how amused he was. It made Taehyung groan a bit.

            “Hyung please.” He begged. “I want this to be memorable. I already have everything planned. Everything other than the food. Sandwiches just…I don’t know, it seems too simple.”

            “Why don’t you just make some rice, make some steamed veggies, and maybe grill some pork or chicken?” Yoongi asked simply. “It’s not that hard, and if you pay attention to the food as it cooks, nothing is going to burn down.” Taehyung sighed softly. “And it’ll all be good for the next day, so don’t worry.” Taehyung pursed his lips, looking down at the messes that were waiting to be cleaned up as soon as Yoongi got off the phone with him. He needed to do this; sandwiches just wouldn’t do. No way.

            “Okay, Hyung. I think I can do it. Thank you!” He said. Yoongi smiled.

            “No problem. Call me if you need anything, okay?” He said. When Taehyung agreed, Yoongi nodded. “Alright, good luck. Fighting.” A chuckle escaped the older boy’s lips as he hung up, setting his phone down and resting against his desk, looking through the plans for the upcoming week of lessons at his high school. He stared at them for a moment, but his mind was falling back to Taehyung. He hoped Taehyung would get a grip of what he was doing, and be able to do it well. However, as soon as the image of Taehyung’s kitchen oven sparking on hit his mind, he stood up. “You know, maybe my good deed of the day will be preventing a death, who knows…”

----Present Day----

            “No way.” You laughed. “He came to your house?” Taehyung scoffed.

            “I did all the cooking,” Taehyung stated again. “Yoongi-Hyung just helped me not burn anything, you know? He did all the timing and stuff.” You smiled, looking down at the various foods as you began to open some of them up. For some reason, that story made you even more excited to try some of this food. “Anyway, I hope you like it.”

            “I’m sure I will.” You assured. “But next time, sandwiches will be just as delicious as this will be.” Taehyung smiled a bit.

            “Next time? You haven’t even finished this date, and you’re already planning our next one?” He asked. He watched as you lifted chopsticks into your hands, before quickly digging into some of the meat and veggies. Taehyung quickly followed behind you, and both of you simply picked out of the Tupperware the food that you wanted. Your eyes sparkled as you popped some of the meat in your mouth.

            “This is good!” You gasped. Taehyung looked up at you, his mouth stuffed like a chipmunk with food. “Even leftover, it’s tender and juicy. You outdid yourself.” Taehyung blushed a bit, nodding as he tried his hardest to swallow without choking on his food.

            “Thank you.” He said softly. As you continued to eat, Taehyung rested back on his hands as he watched you continue to eat. The smile on your face as you popped rice and veggies in your mouth was enough to make him feel more comfortable about how this was going.

After time was spent simply eating, light conversation helping to prevent any awkward moments, Taehyung wanted to show you the thing that he was most excited to show you. “Do you want to see what I have in my bag now?” he asked. You glanced up, nodding quickly as you set your chopsticks down.

“Yes, finally.” You gasped. You watched as Taehyung turned to his bag, opening it up and digging around. After moments of his silent rummaging, he pulled out two medium-sized easels, followed up a tiny bag of paint. You blinked as Taehyung set everything onto the table.

“Easels and paint, hm?” You asked. You watched as Taehyung began to put away the leftover food, most likely to save for later.

“Yeah. I thought it would be fun to paint the scenery.” He said. “It’s a pretty nice view.” You couldn’t help but scoot closer to Taehyung as he began to set the paintings upon these two retractable stands, and spread out the paints in the middle of the two of you.

“I don’t know if you know, but the reason you got this job is that I’m not the most creatively inclined person in the world.” Taehyung smiled, looking at you as he lifted a paintbrush into his hand, passing it to you.

“Well yeah, but the crafts there are meant to shape the minds of little kids creatively. That’s a bit different than this. Your painting is going to be creative no matter what you do, because it comes to form your mind, and is done only for you.” Your eyes cast down to the paintbrush in your hand. “You’re pretty creative in different ways that aren’t just arts and crafts on construction paper.” When he saw you turn towards one of the blank easels, he smiled. “I see how you are with those kids. It doesn’t take just anyone to teach children colors or the alphabet.” Taehyung took a moment to tilt his easel just slightly so that you couldn’t see it from your current sitting position.

“What should I paint?” you asked curiously. Taehyung simply began to open and squeeze various colors of paint onto one palette, as well as fill two plastic cups with some extra water. Just seeing the colors spread out on the palette got you a bit excited. I can see why the children get so excited whenever we paint. You thought to yourself. Taehyung wasted almost no time. As soon as the paints and water were ready, he immediately began dipping his brush inside a puddle of light blue paint. He tilted his head, silently examining the easel before him, before you saw him begin to press it to the canvas, spreading its color beautifully across it.

“Paint whatever you want. The scenery is always a good start.” You decided to look ahead, at the bright blue sky staring back at you, and the fluffy white clouds hanging above your head. It took a moment, a silent moment of staring, feeling the wind against your face, a moment of simply listening to the faint sound of Taehyung’s paintbrush rubbing against his canvas, for you to finally start doing it yourself. You dipped the paint into a small puddle of green, and pressed it to the bottom of your canvas, quickly getting to work.

Time passed in a blur, both you and Taehyung communicating through silent glances at one another from behind your canvas. When he looked up at you for the fourteenth time, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” You asked curiously. Taehyung watched your hands lift and tug your hair into a ponytail before the palms rested against the soft grass.

“You’re looking at me too.” He said quickly. You glanced over, laughing a bit.

“Only because you’re looking at me!” That comment made Taehyung chuckle. “Will you tell me what you’re painting at least?” Taehyung’s eyes immediately looked at his painting, which was bursting to life with colors. The painting was of a beautiful set of scenery, a stunningly clear sky connecting with beautiful green grass. Flowers decorated the grass, only adding to the splashes of color around the sea of green. The middle of the picture depicted a girl, sitting cross-legged in front of a canvas that was only in half view. Though it was not complete, the expression on the muse’s face was that of focus, of determination to finish up whatever creative thought was flowing through her mind.

After taking a moment to examine it, he looked back up at you. A smug grin formed on his face. “No~.” He cooed, only to see you groan.            

“That’s not fair! I’ll even show you mine first!” Taehyung tilted his head, his smug grin never leaving his face.

“Okay, let me see.” He stated. You huffed, taking hold of the canvas and spinning it around. Taehyung blinked, staring ahead at the painting before him. It wasn’t anything magical, just a picture of whatever it was you had been looking at for the past hour or so. Colors were smudged together in a weird spot, signaling you hadn’t planned where colors would stop to let others begin. The sun sat in the top corner, a half-done circle with rays of yellow and orange peaking out of it. Taehyung had to admit, the smile you added to it was very cute. The flowers lifted from the grass on twig-like green steam, big and oddly shaped leaves poking out of them. “Huh…” Taehyung muttered. His paintbrush lifted, pointing to the black check marks he noticed in the sky. “What are those?”

“…Birds.” You said simply. “Why?” Taehyung shrugged. “I just painted what I saw.”

“I know you did. And you can tell that you’re a preschool teacher with art like that.” Taehyung noticed a pout form on your lips, and he immediately regretted the words he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning the canvas back around to face you.

“Nothing,” Taehyung said quickly. “I mean it as a compliment. I’m sorry….” That didn’t seem to work, and with a breathy ‘mmm’, you turned back to your work.

And this is why you’re single, Kim Taehyung. Taehyung thought to himself, resting his hands in his hair as he watched you. He took a moment, trying to process his next sequence of actions to make sure that nothing landed him with a punch in the face or a kick in the nuts. Slowly, Taehyung tugged his painting towards you, the sound of the effort making your aware of his arriving presence. However, you kept your eyes on your canvas. When Taehyung was close enough, you felt his press his shoulder against yours. When you glanced up, you saw Taehyung lift his paintbrush.

“This is good.” He said simply. “I can show you a few techniques though if you want.” You blinked, looking once again at the painting that would impress any five-year-old, but seemingly not a well-seasoned painter.

“Is it salvageable, Oh Wise One?” The tone in your voice offered sarcasm, but Taehyung laughed at the comment.

“Absolutely.” He pointed to the few smudges connecting the blue sky and the green grass. “We can easily blend those out.” You watched as Taehyung dipped his brush into the palette of paint, quickly leaning forward. With a few dabs of light color, and a few seemingly easy pushes around of wet paint, the smudge was still there, but much less noticeable than it was before. You could only hum in amazement at how easily he fixed the problem.

“Okay, okay. I get you’re the professional.” You said simply. Taehyung smiled down at you as you dipped your brush back into the purple paint. He watched as you pressed it on an untouched part of the canvas, swirling it around to create a purple flower. “How does that look?” You asked curiously. Taehyung smiled, lifting his hand to wrap around your own. Almost immediately, you looked up at him, but he didn’t seem to faze about his actions.

“You’re on the right track. I’ve noticed the best way to get a good flower without tracing is to create a spiral effect.” Taehyung gently guided your hand along with the open spot on the canvas, turning the purple blob into a cute and spiraled flowered before you. “Then, you put some yellow in the middle, and you’ll have an adorable flower.”

“I see.” You said softly. Taehyung smiled, glancing down at you as you looked at the painting. “Let me try.” You shuffled past Taehyung just slightly, your hand slightly shaking as you dipped the brush into the water. When you noticed the shaking, you immediately glanced at Taehyung. Did he notice too? Before you could even allow him to notice, you turned back to the canvas, yellow on your brush as you pressed it into the middle of the purple flower. It made it look incredibly cute and provided a lovely contrast to the dark green grass.

“It looks cute,” Taehyung said. “Now you try with the next one.” When you went to dip your brush back into the water and choose another color, you noticed Taehyung didn’t shuffle away, instead of keeping himself near you.

“Are you going to finish your painting?” You asked curiously. Taehyung, realizing that he was simply sitting beside you, not doing anything after showing you a little technique, only chuckled in awkward realization.

“Well yeah, but I want to watch you paint. It’s kind of relaxing. Besides, I’m almost done with mine. It needs to dry before I go back and fix some stuff.” Taehyung reached into the picnic basket, pulling out a snack and opening it, popping it into his mouth. “Does that bother you?”

“No…I guess not.” You said, turning back to the painting. Once again, silence overtook you both as you continue painting. The only sound was of Taehyung, popping a salty snack into his mouth and eating it. Occasionally, he would point something out in your painting as you painted it. It couldn’t help but make you smile at every silly comment that came out of Taehyung’s mouth. Before you both knew it, Taehyung checked his watch and sighed.

“Our train is going to be at the station soon. We should probably pack up and head out.”

Nodding your head, you took one final look at your painting. It was done, a bit smudged and messy, however, it was cute, and you ended up being incredibly proud of it. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Both of you stood up, Taehyung gathering the painting materials, while you packed up the food into the basket, and folded up the blanket, slinging it over your arm. Both of you quickly headed down the path, side by side and back into the direction of the train station.

As you hopped onto the train, plopping down into one of the seats, you felt a sigh escape your body. It took a few moments for other people to shuffle on and off, finding their seats and settling down, before the train started up and made its way down the track. Taehyung rested his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes. “That was a lot of fun.” You said, averting his attention and causing him to open his eyes and divert them in your direction. “We should do that again, don’t you think?”

“You liked it?” Taehyung asked. You nodded in response, and Taehyung laughed shyly. “I’m glad you did. I was worried at first that it wouldn’t be that enjoyable. It was just painting and food.”

Your shoulders shrugged, and you ran your hand along with the now dried paint on your canvas. “Sometimes paint and food is all you need. I’m going to hang this up in the classroom, I like it.” Taehyung leaned slightly closer to you, getting a glimpse at the finished product.

“I think it’ll look perfect there.” He said, and when a smile graced your lips, he felt his heart swell just slightly. “But yeah, I’d love to take you out again, if you want to.”

“That sounds fun. Let’s plan it soon, okay?” Taehyung nodded, running a hand through his hair. “But only if you’ll show me what you painted. Deal?” Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh at your snarky comment.

“Good try, but nope!” He said quickly, shifting his painting over so that it was just slightly out of your reach. You pouted a bit.

“Not fair.” You huffed, and Taehyung grinned devilishly in response. The two of you began to bicker among the quiet of the train, continuing to pester one another about if you were going to get the see the painting before the end of the journey. Taehyung still denied your request, all the way up until the train returned to the station and the both of you exited. Hoping not to lose each other in the crowds of people, you made sure to grab hold of Taehyung’s hand as you exited, your other hand grasping his arm gently. He was sure not to complain, keeping himself close to you to assure that you wouldn’t be separated.

“…I’ll see you at work Monday?” You asked, fixing the strap of your bag. Taehyung nodded.

“Definitely. Do you need any help getting home?” Taehyung asked curiously. You shook your head.

“I’ll be okay. Thanks again for today~.” Taehyung nodded, waving to you as you checked yourself one final time, making sure everything was in its place. Once it was, you headed towards the stairs of the train station. Taehyung watched you for a moment, but the next thing he knew, his feet were guiding his body right behind you. He didn’t want to see you leave just yet, he didn’t want this day to end, and he knew the minute you were out of his view, it would be. He found himself stopping at the bottom of the steps, however, shuffling past a few people heading onto the train platform. Then, as he watched you continue making your way up, Taehyung bit his lip.

“Get home safe.” He called, waving to you. As you ascended the steps, you turned back over your shoulder to look at Taehyung, who was still standing at the bottom of the steps. “Just let me know when you get home, okay?” Though it was pretty crowded by the steps, Taehyung saw a smile peek out from over your shoulder, lips pointed up in a playful grin, waving at him one final time before disappearing behind the crowd of people forming at the top of the steps to make their way down. Taehyung stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets as the bustling noise of life moving on around him continued. It took a moment, but he finally forced himself to continue moving on, heading towards another flight of stairs on the other end of the platform, leading him in the direction of his house.

As he ascended the flight of stairs, all he could think about was one thing you had said to him on the trip back. One thing that plastered a smile permanently on his face.

We should do that again sometime.

Return to Masterlist

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[blissfulexcape]

~Coffee Fix~Hannah x Reader~

~~Hi this took forever! It’s probably really short. I know I said I’d post more but for right now I think we’re screwed on that front. xD I’m horrible I’m sorry. please stick with me! I really do appreciate you all for following and reading! Love ya byeeee~~

Every time Hannah comes to Monet’s she can’t help but stare at the cute barista. Reader stares at her too and knows how Hannah likes each of her drinks. Hannah is working with Skye when Hannah, Jessica, and Alex come in. They order their drinks and sit at their usual spot but reader and Hannah keep exchanging looks. Then Skye just shouts, “C’mon, just date already!” Then Alex says he seconds that and Jessica uses her textbook like a gavel and says “It is law!”

You groaned silently while cleaning the tables throughout Monet’s. Sky should be out of school soon along with the other students. You did online school so you only ever saw other people your age while you were working. Like Hannah. Her long brown hair and greenish eyes were hard to forget. You laughed at the memory of your first meeting.

~~~Past~~~

It was only your second day on the job and you were shadowing your coworker Sky. She seemed nice enough, a little bitter perhaps but still you could see being friends with her. You went to do a bathroom cheek and make sure they had enough toilet paper and paper towels.

When you came back out Sky motioned you over to help her behind the counter. You jogged over and she told you to make the cinnamon hot chocolate. You nodded in acknowledgement before going to get started. When you finished you looked at the name to call the quest to get their drink.

“Hannah?” You shouted curiously before putting the heat protector on so they wouldn’t get burned. Then you continued with the next order that Sky gave you. When the rush was over you took the chance to glance around the room. Blushing when you saw someone particularly beautiful.

Sky told you to go sweep around the front door to make sure there were no leaves getting sucked in by the draft. As you worked you’d occasionally glance at the brunette . Sometimes completely staring at the window in hopes that it would be less noticeable.  She had long wavy hair and bright eyes. Her laugh made your heart flutter. You couldn’t help think how cute she was. From then on you vowed to always keep an eye out for her.

~~~Present~~~

You felt your heart skip a beat as the familiar laugh filled the room. Hannah has been coming in practically every day for the last two months. By now you had her and her friends orders memorized. Hannah was also the best tipper. She was so sweet.

“______! You’re girlfriend is here!” Sky whispered teasingly in your ear as if you didn’t already know that.

You glared at her but you knew the blush covering your cheeks would betray you. “Shut up! She’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you wish she was!” Sky shouted as she headed to the dry storage to get more cups. You gasped at her and threw an small elf decoration in her direction. She burst out laughing as she dodged inside the other room and the toy simply hit the door.

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath as you prepared yourself to talk to Hannah. “Knock, knock?” A sweet voice said behind you. 

A smile graced your face at the childish greeting. “Who's there?” You asked as your turned to face her.

“Owl.” Hannah replied as she tried to repress her excitement.

“Owl, who?”

“Owl take a hot chocolate with extra whip cream and marshmallows. And don’t forget the-”

“Cinnamon.” You finished for her. Her look of surprise made you blush. “And one mocha with extra white chocolate.” You smiled as you wrote the orders down on two cups.

“Please and thank you.” Hannah said beaming at you. She bit her lip to keep from smiling so big.

“It’ll be right up, Hannah.”

While you worked on their drinks, Sky had come back to help with the next guests. You walked the cups to the pick up side. “Hannah! Jessica!”

“Hey ______! Can I ask you something real quick?” You turned to see Hannah’s friend Jessica looking at you quizzically. 

“Sure, what’s up?” You granted walking over. You leaned slightly on the counter.

“So I see you all the time here, why don’t I see you in school?”

You laughed, “I’m home schooled.”

“But you can’t just spend all your time at home or here right? You must have a boyfriend?” She  wondered shocked. “I’d go stir crazy if this were the only interaction I got. I’m such a social butterfly.”

“No... I don’t go for guys. And I haven’t had the courage to ask the right girl..” You confessed slyly as your cheeks turned a bright pink.

“Oooh! Well if it helps I’m having a party tonight and maybe you could see them there and break the ice?” She offered kindly.

“I don’t know not really my scene. It’s pretty cliche don’tcha think?” You asked with a disinterested look.

“Just give it shot! Here’s my address and I’ll see you tonight! Come early to help  set up! Bring chips and soda! If you don’t we won’t have any.” She commanded smiling before waltzing off to her usual corner.

You sighed and did your best to shrug it off and get back to work. Later on you’d talk to Sky about it.

“What did your girlfriend’s friend want?” Sky asked as she put away cups.

You gave her an exasperated look but didn’t correct her this time. “She wants me to go to her party tonight.” You explained simply.

“And you’re going to go right? So you can see your girl?”

“I don’t know... I’ve never been to a party. How will I know how to act?” You gave her a nervous look that made her laugh.

“You act how you normally do because you don’t need to act any way else to get her attention.” You blushed at the meaning which made Sky laugh more. “I don’t understand how you can’t see that she likes you back!”

“She does not! She is into that boy that you know. With the dark hair and nice eyes. Cody? Blay? Tray? Clay!”

Sky snorted, “Ya, right!” Sky rolled her eyes and walked over to you. Taking you by the shoulders she said,  “You are going to that party tonight and you are going to talk to Hannah. You are going to get tongue tided and mess up your word and Hannah is going to find it adorable. Then you’ll kiss and she’ll be your real girlfriend. I will drag you myself if I have to and that won’t be pretty. And to make sure you go... I’ll make Clay look for you  and if he doesn’t see you then you’re on toilet duty for until... until you do go to a party.” She smirked evilly at you before going to get her things to leave work.

~~~~Later That Night~~~~

Your parents reluctantly agreed to let you go to the party. The deal was you could go but they had to drive you home whether or not you’d been drinking. And there would be no judgement if there were drinking because you had a safe ride home. They also agreed to drop you off and pick you up a block away.

 With a few bags of family size chips and three 24 packs of soda you walked the rest of the way to Jessica’s. You were on the door step debating whether to knock or ring the door bell or just walk in when the door opened and there was Hannah. She gasped as she saw you.

“______! You scared me!” She laughed a bit trying to catch her breathe. “Come on in! I'll show you were to put all that.” She smiled encouragingly. You followed her threw the house and you guys put the drinks in a cooler and the chips on the table.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Hannah whispered as you guys sat by the pool. You didn’t have to talk loud sense no one had really arrived yet.

“I’m glad I could too. So does she throw parties like this a lot? She seems to have it down to a science.” You joked lightheartedly. Hannah laughed nodding.

“Ya at least once a month. Her dad leaves town pretty often.” Hannah explained.

“Hey ladies!” A guy shouted grabbing you guys attention. He walked over and kneeled by Hannah. He was tallish and fairly muscular and would probably be considered attractive if it weren’t for her blood shot eyes and disheveled appearance. “You guys look great but what would make you look better is if you were moaning my name.” His smile widened as he laughed as his pathetic pick up line. Hannah looked uncomfortable.

You stood up and went and sat on the arm of her chair between them. “You know you are so right!” You said I a fake excited voice. “ Why don’t we test the chemistry and make out?” You asked flirty. He stood up and put his hand on your hip. “ Close your eyes.” You commanded sweetly. When his eyes were closed. You put your hands on his chest leading him a few steps back. When he tried to touch you, you tapped his hands playfully. 

Then you pushed him in the pool! you jumped back just in time to avid the splash. Hannah’s jaw dropped as she saw what you did. You both burst out laughing and you took her hand hoping the sleaze wouldn’t follow you inside.

Both of you were breathing hard when you got to the couch. You smiled when you felt Hannah’s lace her fingers with yours. You both sat in comfortable silence as everyone walked around you. Hannah slowly moved to rest her head on your shoulder. “Thanks for doing that. He was making me feel so uncomfortable.”

“I know that’s why I did it. I wanted you to feel safe with me.” You whispered back. Your nose brushing her forehead as you spoke to her.

A loud groan made you both flinch and look around. Seeing EVERYONE staring at you made you both blush red. “C’MON! Just date already!!” Sky, Alex, Jessica, Clay, Jeff, Justin and Zach all shouted in synch.

“If you guys don’t start dating I’ll never hear the end of it from Jessica!” Justin complained.

“I’ll have to kept listening to Hannah go,’Should I ask her?’ ‘Are you sure she likes me?’ or ‘Are you are that she like likes me?’ I’m going crazy!” Jessica continued.

“You have to go threw that too? I’ve never felt so connected you!” Sky gasped shocked.

“I think you’re cute..” Clay said smiling nicely which had everyone glaring at him. Clearing his throat, “You guys are disgusting with all those lovey dove stares! I can’t stand it just go out already!” Clay finished looking to the others who nodded in agreement.

Nervously looking at Hannah for her reaction, you saw she was smiling. “I like.. like you.” She mumbled biting her lip shyly.

“I like... like you.. too.” you announced passionately. then you leaned over slowly and everyone leaned in to get a better look. Then you kissed her forehead. Everyone let out a sigh of disappointment which made you laugh lightly. “I’m going to kiss her in front of you! That will be our moment! Not yours!” With that being said you walked out to the door to go somewhere more private.

[highbuttonsports]

RECENT THUNDERBIRD NEWS:SIGNINGS/NLL DRAFT/SCHEDULE/ JERSEY UNVEIL

Alright HB Sports fans, it’s time to talk some Thunderbirds again. I’m fresh off the birth of my third daughter (pray for me) and ready to dive back into the goings on around the squad. There has been a fair amount of team news since the last time you heard from me and I plan to blog it all here. The Thunderbirds have inked a few more players to contract, released the full home and away schedule, drafted six new players during the 2019 NLL draft back on September 17th and most recently unveiled their home and away jerseys they will be wearing for their inaugural season. Well what do ya say we get caught up then? Opening night is just over two months away!

The Thunderbirds will open their season at the Scotiabank Centre on Saturday, December 7th against the New York Riptide. They are then back home the following Saturday against Rochester. The majority of the games will be Saturday nights with the odd Friday night or Sunday afternoon game. I will post a picture of the full schedule below. I have a feeling the Thunderbirds could spark a nice little East Division rivalry with Toronto. The first meeting of the two clubs goes January 31st in Toronto, followed by February 17th at home. The two teams will meet for the Thunderbirds final game of the year on April 25th in Halifax. That one should be a dandy!

Full Thunderbird schedule here:

During my last blog, I took a look at all the contracts the Thunderbirds had negotiated up until that time. Since then, they have handed out a couple more starting with the signing of defenseman Darryl Robertson to a three-year deal. Robertson, a native of Whitby, Ontario, was a part of the former Rochester squad last season. Coming into his third NLL season, look for Robertson to make an immediate impact on defense and quickly and efficiently transition the ball up the floor; a player all offensive guys love. Robertson was quoted after signing his contract that he is “unbelievably happy to be a Thunderbird for the next three years.” I’m certain the fans will be equally as happy to have you as a part of it as well.

Next up we had the signing of free agent defender Brayden Hill to a two-year contract. Hill calls Six Nations, Ontario home and is coming into his fourth season in the NLL. Drafted in the third round of the 2016 NLL entry draft by the Georgia Swarm, Hill has suited up for Georgia, Rochester and most recently in 2019, Philadelphia. Hill has also posted an impressive Junior and Senior lacrosse resume; winning back to back Minto Cups, and leading the Six Nations Rebels to this years Presidents cup. Hill is excited to get going in Halifax saying, “ I’m beyond excited to get to play for such an amazing team in an amazing city.” Such a common theme between all the guys who experience Halifax; they absolutely love it, but then again who wouldn’t.

The Thunderbirds also added Roger Chrysler and 15 NLL veteran Chad Culp to Head coach Mike Accursi’s coaching staff. They have also have named John Catalano as the Thunderbird President and CEO. Catalano comes from the former Rochester Knighthawks and has a reputation for facilitating a “fun, passionate and contagiously upbeat environment.”

That brings us to a pivotal point in the off-season for every team in the league; the NLL entry draft. Held in Philadelphia on September 17th, the leagues 13 teams were busy crafting their rosters and adding future pieces. With six picks in total, the Thunderbirds added some great new faces to their roster. I will briefly take a look at each of the T-bird selections and familiarize the fans with the new faces.  

With the fifth overall selection, the Thunderbirds selected Clarke Petterson from Cornell. The Toronto native is a remarkably gifted lacrosse player; he is sure to take fans out of their seats right away. His career highlights page on the Cornell Men’s Lacrosse website is a damn novel.  The three time team captain at Cornell was the first ever sophomore captain in the program’s history. He wrapped up the 2019 campaign ranked second in the U.S. in shooting percentage and 17th in goals per game. Petterson is not only extremely talented offensively but also very versatile, having changed from defensive midfield, to offensive midfield and also to playing attack, ultimately thriving on offence. His Cornell career has put him in the top 10 for career goals and points in program history. I am really looking forward to watching this guy play lacrosse.  Head coach Mike Accursi is also thrilled to add Petterson to the offence, calling him an “elite offensive player”.

Next up, with the fourteenth selection, the Thunderbirds grabbed Trevor Smyth. The senior at Rochester Institute of Technology was named a USILA First team All-American at the end of the 2019 season. The Orangeville, Ontario native was also named the USILA Co- Long Pole midfielder of the year in 2019, his conferences “Liberty League” defensive player of the year. Smyth will undoubtedly be another great piece to and already solid defense and transition.

Those two picks rounded out the first round for the Thunderbirds. With their first  and only pick in the second round, the Birds selected Clay Scanlan 30th overall. Scanlan played the 2019 season with the Six Nations Arrows in the OJALL. He posted an impressive 35 points in 19 regular season games and seven points in three games in the Ontario Junior ‘A’ playoffs.

Jumping into the third round, Halifax selected Nonkon Thompson 38th overall. Thompson is coming off a 2019 campaign which saw him suit up for the Akwesasne Indians of the OJBLL, and also the Iroquois Nationals. Thompson put up 26 points in 20 games this season with Akwesasne with a very respectable 106 penalty minutes. He also contributed nicely to a lengthy playoff run of 16 games with 17 points. Nonkon has some fan favourite potential written all over him!

Finally, with their picks in the fifth and sixth rounds, Halifax selected Matt Dziama of UVA and Brad Fannell of the St Catherines Junior ‘A’ Athletics and the Brock University Badgers. The two picks were 68th and 81st overall respectively.  Dziama is coming off a national championship in 2019 with the University of Virginia. He is new to the box lacrosse game, but what he lacks in the experience he makes up for athleticism and competitiveness. Fannell suited up in 36 games over the past two seasons for the Athletics putting up 13 points. Fannell is known for being “a good steady defenseman who transfers the ball well” according to Head Coach Mike Accursi.

Here is a breakdown of Thunderbird picks by each round:

Well that wraps up the 2019 NLL draft for the Thunderbirds. Six selections which help the roster from top to bottom. A great mixture of finesse, skill and overall toughness.

I guess that brings us to what are these guys going to wear? The jerseys have been teased a lot leading up to this week, but on October 1st, the public was given an up close look into the new threads. HB Sports covered it of course. The Thunderbird home and away jerseys were revealed with great reception; I personally think they are very well done. The way the colour scheme is set up on the home jersey makes them so sharp. Combined with the white gloves and helmets, both jerseys are looking very clean. The away jersey is not what I expected but also very well put together. The diagonal lettering of “Thunderbirds” down the front is a great look and the white and orange combination comes together nicely. Hopefully we can “look good, play good.” We definitely have the look good part nailed.

So with all that said, I just have one more piece of Thunderbird info to recap. Congratulations to the Thunderbird players who were selected to represent their respective nations at the World Indoor Lacrosse Championships in Langley, British Columbia. The tournament ran from September 19th-29th and featured seven Thunderbirds.

Jake Withers- Canada

Graeme Hossack- Canada

Cody Jamieson-Iroquois

Kyle Jackson-Iroquois

Warren Hill-Iroquois

Brayden Hill-Iroquois

Stephen Keogh-Ireland

Six out of the seven players came home with medals as Canada defeated Iroquois 19-12 in the gold medal game. Needless to say, the Thunderbirds were well represented on the world stage.

Before I wrap this up, I just want to give another HB Sports shout out to former Halifax Hurricane and Lacrosse Nova Scotia player Alex Pace for being drafted in this years NLL entry draft. The Philadelphia Wings drafted Alex in the second round, 20th overall. Most recently playing his junior lacrosse for St. Catherine’s in the OJALL and playing collegiately for the Brock Badgers; Alex is another extremely gifted Nova Scotian player continuing to put us on the map. Congratulations Alex!

Well I think that just about touches on everything since last time. As I said, the season is only two short months away so be on the look out for more! I’ll be pumping out one a week starting December 7th. With hockey back again and the NBA and NLL just around the corner; you can expect some pretty awesome content this year brought to by the boys at High Button Sports! Stay tuned sports fans. It’s Millsy signing off again, thanks for scrolling!

[jordanmillsblog]

RECENT THUNDERBIRD NEWS:SIGNINGS/NLL DRAFT/SCHEDULE/ JERSEY UNVEIL

Alright HB Sports fans, it’s time to talk some Thunderbirds again. I’m fresh off the birth of my third daughter (pray for me) and ready to dive back into the goings on around the squad. There has been a fair amount of team news since the last time you heard from me and I plan to blog it all here. The Thunderbirds have inked a few more players to contract, released the full home and away schedule, drafted six new players during the 2019 NLL draft back on September 17th and most recently unveiled their home and away jerseys they will be wearing for their inaugural season. Well what do ya say we get caught up then? Opening night is just over two months away!

The Thunderbirds will open their season at the Scotiabank Centre on Saturday, December 7th against the New York Riptide. They are then back home the following Saturday against Rochester. The majority of the games will be Saturday nights with the odd Friday night or Sunday afternoon game. I will post a picture of the full schedule below. I have a feeling the Thunderbirds could spark a nice little East Division rivalry with Toronto. The first meeting of the two clubs goes January 31st in Toronto, followed by February 17th at home. The two teams will meet for the Thunderbirds final game of the year on April 25th in Halifax. That one should be a dandy!

Full Thunderbird schedule here:

During my last blog, I took a look at all the contracts the Thunderbirds had negotiated up until that time. Since then, they have handed out a couple more starting with the signing of defenseman Darryl Robertson to a three-year deal. Robertson, a native of Whitby, Ontario, was a part of the former Rochester squad last season. Coming into his third NLL season, look for Robertson to make an immediate impact on defense and quickly and efficiently transition the ball up the floor; a player all offensive guys love. Robertson was quoted after signing his contract that he is “unbelievably happy to be a Thunderbird for the next three years.” I’m certain the fans will be equally as happy to have you as a part of it as well.

Next up we had the signing of free agent defender Brayden Hill to a two-year contract. Hill calls Six Nations, Ontario home and is coming into his fourth season in the NLL. Drafted in the third round of the 2016 NLL entry draft by the Georgia Swarm, Hill has suited up for Georgia, Rochester and most recently in 2019, Philadelphia. Hill has also posted an impressive Junior and Senior lacrosse resume; winning back to back Minto Cups, and leading the Six Nations Rebels to this years Presidents cup. Hill is excited to get going in Halifax saying, “ I’m beyond excited to get to play for such an amazing team in an amazing city.” Such a common theme between all the guys who experience Halifax; they absolutely love it, but then again who wouldn't.

The Thunderbirds also added Roger Chrysler and 15 NLL veteran Chad Culp to Head coach Mike Accursi’s coaching staff. They have also have named John Catalano as the Thunderbird President and CEO. Catalano comes from the former Rochester Knighthawks and has a reputation for facilitating a “fun, passionate and contagiously upbeat environment.”

That brings us to a pivotal point in the off-season for every team in the league; the NLL entry draft. Held in Philadelphia on September 17th, the leagues 13 teams were busy crafting their rosters and adding future pieces. With six picks in total, the Thunderbirds added some great new faces to their roster. I will briefly take a look at each of the T-bird selections and familiarize the fans with the new faces.  

With the fifth overall selection, the Thunderbirds selected Clarke Petterson from Cornell. The Toronto native is a remarkably gifted lacrosse player; he is sure to take fans out of their seats right away. His career highlights page on the Cornell Men’s Lacrosse website is a damn novel.  The three time team captain at Cornell was the first ever sophomore captain in the program’s history. He wrapped up the 2019 campaign ranked second in the U.S. in shooting percentage and 17th in goals per game. Petterson is not only extremely talented offensively but also very versatile, having changed from defensive midfield, to offensive midfield and also to playing attack, ultimately thriving on offence. His Cornell career has put him in the top 10 for career goals and points in program history. I am really looking forward to watching this guy play lacrosse.  Head coach Mike Accursi is also thrilled to add Petterson to the offence, calling him an “elite offensive player”.

Next up, with the fourteenth selection, the Thunderbirds grabbed Trevor Smyth. The senior at Rochester Institute of Technology was named a USILA First team All-American at the end of the 2019 season. The Orangeville, Ontario native was also named the USILA Co- Long Pole midfielder of the year in 2019, his conferences “Liberty League” defensive player of the year. Smyth will undoubtedly be another great piece to and already solid defense and transition.

Those two picks rounded out the first round for the Thunderbirds. With their first  and only pick in the second round, the Birds selected Clay Scanlan 30th overall. Scanlan played the 2019 season with the Six Nations Arrows in the OJALL. He posted an impressive 35 points in 19 regular season games and seven points in three games in the Ontario Junior ‘A’ playoffs.

Jumping into the third round, Halifax selected Nonkon Thompson 38th overall. Thompson is coming off a 2019 campaign which saw him suit up for the Akwesasne Indians of the OJBLL, and also the Iroquois Nationals. Thompson put up 26 points in 20 games this season with Akwesasne with a very respectable 106 penalty minutes. He also contributed nicely to a lengthy playoff run of 16 games with 17 points. Nonkon has some fan favourite potential written all over him!

Finally, with their picks in the fifth and sixth rounds, Halifax selected Matt Dziama of UVA and Brad Fannell of the St Catherines Junior ‘A’ Athletics and the Brock University Badgers. The two picks were 68th and 81st overall respectively.  Dziama is coming off a national championship in 2019 with the University of Virginia. He is new to the box lacrosse game, but what he lacks in the experience he makes up for athleticism and competitiveness. Fannell suited up in 36 games over the past two seasons for the Athletics putting up 13 points. Fannell is known for being “a good steady defenseman who transfers the ball well” according to Head Coach Mike Accursi.

Here is a breakdown of Thunderbird picks by each round:

Well that wraps up the 2019 NLL draft for the Thunderbirds. Six selections which help the roster from top to bottom. A great mixture of finesse, skill and overall toughness.

I guess that brings us to what are these guys going to wear? The jerseys have been teased a lot leading up to this week, but on October 1st, the public was given an up close look into the new threads. HB Sports covered it of course. The Thunderbird home and away jerseys were revealed with great reception; I personally think they are very well done. The way the colour scheme is set up on the home jersey makes them so sharp. Combined with the white gloves and helmets, both jerseys are looking very clean. The away jersey is not what I expected but also very well put together. The diagonal lettering of “Thunderbirds” down the front is a great look and the white and orange combination comes together nicely. Hopefully we can “look good, play good.” We definitely have the look good part nailed.

So with all that said, I just have one more piece of Thunderbird info to recap. Congratulations to the Thunderbird players who were selected to represent their respective nations at the World Indoor Lacrosse Championships in Langley, British Columbia. The tournament ran from September 19th-29th and featured seven Thunderbirds.

Jake Withers- Canada

Graeme Hossack- Canada

Cody Jamieson-Iroquois

Kyle Jackson-Iroquois

Warren Hill-Iroquois

Brayden Hill-Iroquois

Stephen Keogh-Ireland

Six out of the seven players came home with medals as Canada defeated Iroquois 19-12 in the gold medal game. Needless to say, the Thunderbirds were well represented on the world stage.

Before I wrap this up, I just want to give another HB Sports shout out to former Halifax Hurricane and Lacrosse Nova Scotia player Alex Pace for being drafted in this years NLL entry draft. The Philadelphia Wings drafted Alex in the second round, 20th overall. Most recently playing his junior lacrosse for St. Catherine’s in the OJALL and playing collegiately for the Brock Badgers; Alex is another extremely gifted Nova Scotian player continuing to put us on the map. Congratulations Alex!

Well I think that just about touches on everything since last time. As I said, the season is only two short months away so be on the look out for more! I’ll be pumping out one a week starting December 7th. With hockey back again and the NBA and NLL just around the corner; you can expect some pretty awesome content this year brought to by the boys at High Button Sports! Stay tuned sports fans. It’s Millsy signing off again, thanks for scrolling!

[jamesbuckfastbarnes]

A Family Dinner.

“We'll talk later.”

“I have reasons. You wouldn't get it.”

“Oh, what a shocker, you have an excuse.”

*TRIGGER WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS AND A SMALL SNIPPET OF AN ATTEMPT AT PURGING. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T READ THIS IF YOU THINK IT’LL TRIGGER YOU!*

Just a small side note - if you’re going through anything like an eating disorder or self harm or anything like that, my inbox is always open if you need to talk! I love you all! - red-w00dy xoxo

Glancing at my reflection in the bedroom mirror, I couldn't help but feel disgusted with myself. My arms were looked vile, my thighs were enormous and my stomach was way too big for my liking. I tugged at the new dress I had bought for Thanksgiving at Gemma’s, arranging it so nobody could see how much weight I'd lost. It's not like I'd always had issues with my food, but for the past couple of years I really struggled to find anything attractive about myself. My boyfriend of three months, Chibs, was nothing but adoring, constantly telling me that I was beautiful and whispering gaelic compliments in my ear whenever we were out on a date. I'd chosen not to tell him about my eating problems, thinking that if he knew then he'd probably dump me there on a spot. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the small machine that filled me with dread whenever I stepped onto them. Scales. I quickly kicked off my heels and pulled the scales out from their place under the sink, convinced that weighing myself just before the dinner couldn't hurt. That way I'd know just how much I could eat without putting on anymore weight. I placed my feet on the machine and glanced down, watching the needle flicker for a moment before it stopped. 107lbs. I was determined to get down to 100lbs which meant eating today was out of the question, no matter how mouthwatering Gemma's food looked. I'd just returned the scales back to where they were when Chibs wandered into the bathroom, wrapping his arms firmly around my waist and placing a soft kiss on my cheek with a smile.

 “Ye look fucking beautiful, hen,” he muttered against my skin, running his hands up and down my sides whilst peppering kisses against my bare skin. I flashed him a weak smile in the mirror, leaning back against his chest. “Are ye ready tae go? Gemma just rang, she said the food should be ready in the next hour.”

 “Yeah, just let me put my shoes on and grab my handbag,” I smiled, moving away from his grasp to put my heels back on before making my way into the bedroom where my bag sat on the dresser. I unzipped it to check I had my usual pack of mints along with a spare tube of lip gloss and another carton of cigarettes in case Chibs or I ran out during the meal.

 “Yer gonna die when ye see all the shite Gemma’s making. Her pumpkin pie has tae be the best I've ever tried,” he told me, his hand resting at the base of my back as he escorted me out of the house and towards my car. We'd decided taking the car was the best option earlier that day as Chibs would probably be drinking and it was safer than taking the bike if that was the case.

 “I'm not actually that hungry to be honest with you,” I lied easily, climbing into the passenger seat whilst Chibs slipped into the driver's side. He took the keys from me and inserted them into the ignition, turning the engine over before reversing backwards into the street. “We're not going to be having massive portions are we? Only I'll feel rude if I don't manage to finish it all off.”

 “Ye’ve nae eaten anything today, baby. I bet once we get there and ye smell all the food, ye’ll feel hungry. I ken Juicy boy always says he’s nae hungry but usually ends up eating more than everyone else combined,” Chibs chuckled, taking one of his hand off the steering wheel in order to light the cigarette he had trapped between his lips. I gave a weak nod in response, diverting my attention to the houses we were passing out the window rather than continue to talk about food - the thought of how much Gemma would be cooking was enough to make me feel nauseous.

 By the time we reached Gemma and Clay’s house twenty minutes later, I was a nervous wreck. I knew the club didn’t trust me yet, not that I expected them to given I hadn’t been around that long, but I didn’t really want to spend the entire day listening them talk about Chibs’ past conquests in front of me and making me feel jealous of all the pretty girls that had spent the night with him. I voiced my thoughts to Chibs as we sat in the driveway of the house, our ‘thank you for having us’ gift for Gemma resting in my lap. He reassured me that they were only doing it because they knew it winded him up but if he saw me feeling uncomfortable then he’d be the first to tell to knock it off. We both climbed out of the car and made our way to the front door, Chibs opening it and gesturing for me to go in first where we were immediately greeted by Gemma and Clay, the MC’s president wearing the most hideous green jumper with a turkey on the front underneath his kutte. The couple gave us both a kiss on the cheek and thanked us for a gift, motioning for us to go to the living room where the other guys and their counterparts were already sitting, drinking beer and laughing at something Tig said. Chibs grabbed my hand and led me over to the empty armchair by the fireplace, dropping down into the seat before pulling me to sit in his lap. He instantly fell into conversation with Opie about some old motorcycle Opie was working on whilst his wife, Lyla, began complimenting me on the dress I was wearing. Half an hour after we arrived, Gemma announced that it was time for dinner and everyone had to sit at the dining table.

 I was seated between Jax and Chibs according to the place cards that Gemma had laid out on the table, something that made me happy as I got on well with Jax quite well. Just as everyone started laughing at Tig ripping into Clay for his awful sweater, Gemma and Tara emerged from the kitchen holding several plates that were piled high with food. I paled at the sight, especially when Gemma placed one down in front of me that was equally as full as both Chibs and Jax’s. There was several slices of turkey, a mountain of mashed potatoes, stuffing, an assortment of different kinds of vegetables, some candied yams and a bread roll on the edge of the plate. I fought back the urge to gag and smiled gratefully at Gemma, picking my fork up and poking tentatively at the food as if I was deciding what to eat first. Everyone else tucked into their food around me, leaving me to stare down at the overflowing plate in front of me. I only stopped when I felt Chibs squeeze my thigh softly which caused me to look at him, seeing a kind smile on his face as he mouthed the words ‘eat what you can, Gemma won’t be offended’ at me. I nodded quickly and scooped the smallest amount of mashed potatoes onto my fork, using my teeth to scrape them off the fork and into my mouth with a fake smile plastered on my face. I knew I should have told Chibs I didn’t want to come, that way I could have spent the day alone with no food in sight. But no, I had to say I would love to go with him. Damn his pretty face, I probably would have declined his offer if he was ugly.

 “Hey baby, are you enjoying the food?” Gemma asked as she passed behind me with another bowl of cranberry sauce. Turns out that Bobby and Clay both loved the sweet sauce, adding piles upon piles of it on top of their turkey to the point that the white meat had become red from how much they had used. “You’ve not ate that much, why not try the stuffing or the turkey? All you’ve seemed to do for the past half hour is pick at the potatoes.”

 “It’s really good, Gem, I’m just not that hungry at the minute,” I smiled at her, cutting up a small sliver of turkey and stabbing my fork into it before slipping into my mouth, forcing myself to chew it with the smile on my face never faltering. Gemma seemed to be pleased with this and carried on to her seat next to Clay at the head of the table. Chibs however was a different story, continuing to flash me concerned looks as he ate his own dinner. A pang of guilt shot through my chest but I ignored it, turning away from Chibs to carry on spooning the smallest bites I could manage into my mouth with the occasional fake moan to keep up appearances.

 “Y/N, are you going to eat that stuffing?” Juice piped up ten minutes later, noticing that I hadn’t touched the stuffing on the left side of my plate. I shook my head as Chibs reached over the table to clip the young Puerto Rican around the back of the head, berating him for being rude. “What was that for? I was only asking. She’s not touched it, thought I may as well see if I could have it if she wasn’t going to eat it.”

 “If it’s okay with Gemma, I don’t mind. I don’t want to be rude though, I’m just feeling a little full from all the turkey and the mashed potatoes,” I frowned, Gemma nodding to say that it was okay for Juice to dig into what was left over. Half of the food on my plate was cut up into miniscule bites and merged together to appear as though I’d eaten a lot, when in actual fact I’d only had several forkfuls of mashed potatoes and a couple of bites of the turkey. I had become fairly skilled in making it seem as though I was eating, using diversion tactics to take away the attention from my plate and mixing my food up to make it seem like there was less on the plate which meant that nobody would suspect that I wasn’t eating properly.

 Once dinner was over and everybody had retired to the living room, I couldn’t stop thinking about the amount of calories I had consumed during dinner. After the plates had been cleared, everyone had encouraged me to eat an entire slice of Gemma’s famous pumpkin pie and the thought of it making me gain weight was enough to convince me not to eat for the next few days. I knew I’d have to exercise all the calories off once I got home as well, but I had developed a routine which meant that I could burn them off without feeling faint. After twenty minutes of losing myself in my thoughts, I realised that Gemma’s bathroom was upstairs which meant nobody would be able to hear me if I was to make myself throw up. I excused myself from the conversation I was having with Chibs and Tig, heading out of the room and up the stairs where I locked myself in the bathroom. The full length mirror behind the door caused me to see my own reflection as I hovered over the sink, urging me to critique my appearance for the millionth time that day. Although my cheekbones and collarbones were well defined, I could still see the fat on my upper arms and the way the dress clung to my thighs which made them seem bigger than they actually were. It was enough motivation for me to drop down onto my knees in front of the porcelain bowl, shoving my fingers down my throat until I was able to make myself gag. After a couple of minutes a knock at the door stopped me in from what I was doing, a sigh of defeat escaping my lips due to the fact I hadn’t managed to make myself puke.

 “Are ye okay in there, lass? Ye’ve been up here a while and everyone’s beginning tae wonder where ye’ve ended up,” Chibs called from the other side of the door, causing me to stand up and straighten out my dress before opening it to see him leaning casually against the doorframe. He had his arms folded across his chest and one of his eyebrows were raised, giving me the impression that he knew exactly what I’d been doing. “What were ye doing in there, hen? I mean aside from the obvious. Yer eyes are all watery and shite.”

 “Oh, I was just checking my make-up and realised I had a stray eyelash on my face, accidentally poked myself in the eye trying to brush it away,” I laughed lightly, dabbing underneath my eyes to get rid of the tears and shrugged it off like it was nothing. Chibs shook his head and pulled me into the bedroom opposite, closing the door behind us once we were both in the room. Judging by the posters of girls on motorcycles and the stack of Harley manuals stacked up on the bedside cabinet, I came to the conclusion that it was probably Jax’s bedroom before he moved out. Chibs perched himself on the edge of the bed and beckoned me forwards, resting his hands on my hips once I was stood directly in front of him.

 “Be honest with me, Y/N, were ye making yerself throw up in the bathroom?” he asked slowly, pulling me down so I was sat on his right thigh and brushing my hair away from my face. I narrowed my eyes at him and feigned confusion, playing it off that what he was saying was craziness. “I’ve noticed ye’ve lost a lot of weight recently, nae tae mention ye barely ate anything at dinner today. And dinnae say it were because ye weren’t hungry because I ken fer a fact ye haven’t ate since yesterday afternoon.”

 “What are you trying to say, Chibs?” I scowled, standing up once more and stepping backwards when he proceeded to do the same, looking down at me with a knowing expression on his weathered face. “I’ve just not been feeling very well recently, that’s why I barely ate anything today. As for the losing weight thing, I’ve just been exercising a lot. I’m not starving myself if that’s what you’re getting at.

 “Och, come off it, Y/N, yer a terrible liar and we both know it. Ye barely eat, and whenever ye do ye go and run off to the bathroom after half an hour or so. Ye exercise way tae much fer it tae be healthy and yer so skinny, I’m afraid if I hug ye too tight, ye’ll snap. Just admit ye have a problem and we’ll get ye some help,” he shot back, grabbing hold of my wrist and tugging me back to him when I tried to leave the room. “Dinnae walk away from me, and none of that ‘We’ll talk later’ shite either. We’re going tae sort this oot once and fer all.”

 We continued to argue over whether or not I had a problem for a good twenty minutes, both of us turning red with how frustrated we were getting with each other. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just leave me to it, especially given that we’d only been together for a few months. Surely it was my decision to make if I decided whether to eat or not, and I didn’t need Chibs giving me shit for it like I was a small child. I eventually admitted that I’d skipped the odd meal here and there, and maybe I was exercising more than I should, but that didn’t mean I needed to go seek help for it. As Chibs stood there processing what I had said, I took the opportunity to escape the bedroom and head downstairs, mumbling a quick apology to Gemma before exiting the large house. I had just reached the driver’s side of my car when Chibs came storming out of the front door, blocking me from getting into the vehicle as Gemma, Jax and Tig all crowded in the doorway to see what was happening between us.

 “Look, I have reasons. You wouldn’t get it, okay? So why not just let me go home and you can come talk to me when you’ve calmed down a little?” I tried to reason, despite knowing that Chibs wouldn’t go for my suggestion. He scoffed at what I said and shook his head in disbelief, removing the carton of cigarettes from his jeans and proceeding to light one up. He took a long drag and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, a mixture of sympathy and annoyance swimming in his dark brown eyes.

 “Och, what a shocker, you have an excuse. This isn’t just something I can forget about, Y/N, yer clearly nae very well. Christ, I really fucking like ye, lass. I dinnae want tae wake up one morning tae get a phone call from the hospital saying yer hooked up tae a load of machines because ye haven’t been eating properly,” Chibs sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as Tig and Gemma carefully approached us, obviously figuring out the reason behind the argument Chibs and I were having.

 “Look, doll,” Tig said before I could tell them both to stay out of it, holding his finger up to silence me as Gemma moved to wrap her arm around my shoulders. I rolled my eyes, ready to hear whatever he had to say whilst Chibs tapped his foot opposite me in a feeble attempt to calm himself down. “My kid, Fawn, has been through exactly the same thing and I don’t want to see anyone ever go through that, especially not someone that Chibs likes so much. You might not think you have a problem but we all noticed at dinner that you were off your food, and with how skinny you are, it’s not hard to put two and two together. In my eyes you only have two options - go see someone that’ll help you get better or start planning your funeral because if you carry on, you’re gonna end up dead.”

 “Tig’s right, sweetheart. You’re beautiful but it wouldn’t hurt to get a little meat on those bones, you’re far too skinny for my liking. I tell you what, you get yourself sorted out and we’ll go shopping for some new clothes once you’re better. And if a shopping spree isn’t a good enough excuse to sort yourself out then think about Chibby. You’re not just hurting yourself by doing this, you’re hurting him as well and I know for a fact that you don’t want that,” Gemma added, combing her fingers through my Y/H/C locks in an attempt to assure me that sorting myself out was the best option.

 I couldn’t help but think that maybe I did have a problem, and a bad one at that if everyone had picked up on it in the space of a couple of hours. I gave them a weak nod to confirm that I’d seek help, wrapping my arms around my grumbling stomach as Chibs gathered me up into his arms and span me round in a circle, causing me to giggle at his actions. Tig and Gemma chose to return to the house at this point, leaving Chibs and I standing there in the middle of the driveway just staring at each other. He dipped down to brush his lips over mine softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear when he pulled away from me. A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to gaze down at me, clearly delighted that I was willing to sort myself out.

 “Yer absolutely stunning, lass, I want ye tae remember that next time ye feel unhappy with the way ye look,” he whispered quietly, resting his forehead against my own and placing his hands on either side of my hips as I proceeded to drape my arms around my neck, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body in comparison to the cold, winter air. “I ken it’s a wee bit soon but I just want tae say that I dae love ye, hen, and I want tae spend the rest of my days with ye. I cannae dae that if yer six feet under because ye didn’t eat. Yer beautiful, and I’ll always think so, just remember that, okay?”

 “I love you too, Filip. And thank you, for making me realise that I had a problem and for being there to make sure I get help. I promise I’ll get better, not just for me but for you as well,” I mumbled back, pressing my lips against his and relaxing into the kiss. I knew I had to stop what I was doing or I’d end up losing this wonderful man, and if that meant getting help then I was more than happy to do what it takes. With Chibs by my side, I knew I could conquer anything that came my way.

[winchester-sisters-imagines]

We’ve Gone Way too Fast for Way too Long (Part Two)

Pairing: Sister!Reader x Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy)

Words: 3,022

Based On: This imagine

Forever Tag List: @capandbuck @bummblebeeblue @sarbear429 @bea789 @xtina2191 @lovethefandomsuniverse @evyiione @trustnobodyshootfirst @motleymoose @thegoodhunterrr5 @bookaddictedhedgehog @gurlwitafro @magicalsis11 @aquabrie @fanboyswhereare-you @percussiongirl2017 @dionnemaria @sherlockslove112 @sesshomaru-lover @freaksforthewin @neishax-butler @hi-pixzza @cookee50 @captainidjit @imasunflower13 @clairedelalune @swimmer-sarcasm @lovelife-tothefullest @dylcole @almightyunnie @winchesterswantmypie

Warnings: This includes, guns, shooting someone (murder), and blood. Do not read if that makes you uncomfortable

Author's Note: Hey guys, here’s the second part to sister!reader x jax teller! I hope you all like it. This one is really long but I didn’t feel that way when I was typing it up. Title is taken from Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy.

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Part One 

"I need you to get down here," was the first thing I heard when I pressed my phone against my ear. "You and Abel. Now."

"What?" I asked groggily. Sitting up in my bed, I realized Jax side didn't have him anymore, but our blond baby Abel instead. "Jax? Is that you? Where are you?"

"Baby, listen to me," Jax said slowly. "I need you to get Abel and come directly to The Clubhouse. Something went down. I need to make sure you two are safe."

I looked over at the small sleeping body of Abel and a ran my free hand over his shoulder blades. "How long?"

"Until we figure out what the fuck is going on," Jax said low into the phone. "Gemma is making breakfast as we speak, so don't bother grabbing anything."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll change and head out."

The phone was silent and every time that would happen is when Jax would pull the receiver away so I wouldn't hear who he was talking to. "Hurry up, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Jax. I'll be there in a few." I hung up the phone and ran a hand over my face. There have only been a few times since we've been together that he would call me up and tell me to haul ass over to The Clubhouse and every time had been because of some conflict between SAMCRO and another club.

I rolled out of bed and changed fast into a pair of jeans, a white t, and a flannel that used to be Deans. I went into Abel's room and grabbed the diaper bag that was stuffed into his closet and filled it with clean clothes and a few toys. I went back into my bedroom and walked over to where Abel was sleeping. I smiled slightly, he looked so much like Jax. "Hey baby," I whispered, tossing back the blanket and scooping him up in my arms.

Abel whined but didn't open his eyes.

"Abel, we're going to see Daddy at work," I said, grabbing my purse as well and going outside. Abel lifted up his hand and gave me a small thumbs up before falling back asleep. I laughed and walked out to my car. It was the same car that had got me to Charming. Jax kept telling me it was a piece of shit and that I should trade it in for something different, and I knew it was a piece of shit. It would constantly overheat and smoke, the brakes were always squealing and probably corroded at this point but this was my car.

I bought this piece of a shit car from Bobby for just a few hundred bucks. It got me from South Dakota to California.

I strapped Abel into his car seat and tossed everything else in the seat next to him. I got into the driver side and turned on the car and headed us to Teller-Morrow.

"There's my baby," Gemma said as I brought Abel in. He still wasn't fully awake yet, but he never was until he had breakfast. He reached for his grandmother and buried his face into her neck. "I'll get him some breakfast. Jax wants to see you in The Chapel."

I glanced at the room full of all the important members: Clay who is his stepdad and the club president, at the head and Jax to his right. Then Bobby and Juice. All of them and more around that wooden table with the SAMCRO reaper carved right into it.

"But everyone's in there," I pointed out. The Chapel was probably the most important room in this place and me just going in willy nilly didn't feel right with everyone else in there.

Gemma rolled her eyes and walked over to the door, knocking on it then opening the door. Gemma wasn't that fond of me when I started dating Jax and I'm still sure she isn't now, even though we've been together for three years. "Jax, baby, she's here." Gemma walked passed me with Abel in her arms heading towards the kitchen. I walked into The Chapel and waved at everyone.

Jax got up from his spot at the table and rushed towards me, wrapping me in a tight hug. "What's wrong?" I asked him in a whispered. Jax kissed my temple before shutting the door.

"One of the new prospects and one of the Galindo were found dead this morning," Clay said from behind us. Jax took my hand and lead me to the table, sitting in his seat and pulling me into his lap.

"Damn," I said, "what happened?"

Tig, from the other side of the table, slid the papers he was holding to me. I picked them up and my eyes went wide. "Fuck," I whispered.

It was pictures that Tig had slid to me. And the pictures show one of SAMCRO's prospects and one of the Gallindo not that far apart with their chest torn open and rib cages exposed. Their hearts were gone.

This was the work of a werewolf.

I closed my eyes and my mind raced. The full moon was two days ago, the werewolf must be trying to feed before the full moon ends for this month. "Hey, you okay?" Jax answered me, squeezing my arm.

I opened my eyes and realized everyone was staring me down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I…" I had to lie. "I just never seen something like that. It's disgusting."

I handed the pictures to Clay. I had to find that werewolf and kill it before someone else in Sons gets hurt, killed, or even turned.

"Since that repulsive son of a bitch attacked one of us during the night," Clay started, looking at the photos, "tonight, we're going to do the same. All of us are going up to the warehouse and wait for whoever did this to come back."

Everyone at the table nodded their agreements and Clay ended the meeting. Jax kept me close as we walked out of The Chapel and into the big open lounge. Abel was sitting with his grandma Gemma, eating some scrambled eggs. "Did you get something to eat?" Jax asked me.

"I'm not hungry anymore," I confessed. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Jax said before going over to Abel and giving me a kiss on the forehead. Jax held his hand out to me and we walked down the hall to his apartment. The Clubhouse were equipped with rooms for each head member and some of the men of mayhem. Jax's apartment was always a dump, but it was our small home whenever we hold up here for longer than a day.

Jax collapsed on the bed and grabbed the pack of cigarettes by his bed. I paced the floor as he lights one up. "What's wrong, darlin'?"

"You can't go," I said, not stopping to look at his face. "Jax, you can't go tonight. It's dangerous."

"I have too," Jax said, flicking some ash into an ashtray. "Whoever did this might come for someone else in the club, or worse, it could come for you and Abel."

I stopped pacing and looked at him. Jax's back was up against the headboard, but his legs were sprawled all over the sheets, holding a cigarette between his lips. "Jax, I'm telling you, that ain't the work of a human."

Jax narrowed his eyes at me and sat up. "What are you talking about, Y/N?"

I sighed. "My dad- My dad always hunted big game, Jax. Bears, elk, mountain lions, I've seen that happen to poor souls that don't get away from a rogue animal. It's not a human who attacked them."

I lied. I've been lying to Jax about my past since we've met. I never told him the reason I don't talk to my dad is because I wanted to stop hunting. I hated going from state to state, looking for the thing that went bump in the night and killed someone. I was tired of owning up to my last name, Winchester. I was tired of not knowing if I was going to live through the next day after getting hurt. I was tired of my brothers getting hurt. I was just tired of it all.

So, during the first date with Jax, I didn't tell him the full truth of my past or family. I told him that my dad thought he knew what was best for me and my older brothers. That Dean was a mechanic, and that Sam had been in school, but since the death of his girlfriend, he couldn't take it anymore. And me, well, I was trying to start over. Start over where the sun always shined and everyone knew everyone's fucking business, just like in those old shows Dad would watch.

"Well," Jax said, "If it's an animal, it'll be easy to kill."

"That's not the point, Jackson," I huffed, trying not to let him hear my voice cracking. "I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to die. You're the only thing I've got going for me in this damn town."

"Come here," Jax whispered, patting the space next to him. I sigh and crawled onto the bed next to him. Jax put out the cigarette and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm not going to get hurt, Y/N. None of us are, it's going to all of us that were sitting at the table versus that son of a bitch."

Tears brimmed my eyes and some slipped down my cheeks. "You better not," I whispered, moving around so I could look Jax in the eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. "You better be in one piece tomorrow morning."

One of those idiots were going to get themselves killed and I was the only one to stop them.

The clock had struck nine o'clock when I snuck back into the lounge and over to the bar. Abel had been asleep for about an hour, and I knew he would sleep through the night, so sneaking out would be alright.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler and poured myself a drink.

"I didn't think you were a whiskey kind of girl."

I looked up and Gemma walked over to the bar and took a seat. "Jesus, Gemma, you gave me a heart attack. Do you want some? Or something else?"

"Nah," she shook her head. "It's not good for the ol' heart," she said, running a finger down the scar on her chest.

I nodded and tipped my head back, draining the drink in one gulp. Gemma eyed me when I poured more whiskey. "That picture has been on my mind all day," I said, sipping this drink now. "I just hope those boys are okay."

Gemma smiled, "You know well that Jax and Clay won't let whoever or whatever that did that live much longer. I keep telling you, Y/N baby, you gotta have faith in the club."

I sighed. "I do, Gemma, I really do. It's just�� a lot… The guns and violence. I don't want Abel around all that."

Gemma tapped her nails against the bar. "SAMCRO's in his blood." I finished off my drink and Gemma stood up. "I'm heading to bed, don't stay up too late now."

"Of course," I said, "I'll just clean up first."

Gemma nodded her head and took off down the hall. I wanted until I heard the door of Clay's apartment open and shut before I grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the counter and snuck out the door. I chugged a bit of the alcohol before going over to my car and opening up the trunk.

Since I've been here in Charming, I haven't touched a gun. Or any weapon. But that didn't mean I didn't have any with me. Just like the impala, I had a fake trunk floor. I pushed it off, grabbed my pistol, and empty the clip. I only had a few silver bullets left over from a werewolf hunt way back when, so I got those from among the wreckage in my trunk and put those in the clip.

I took another swig of the whiskey and put it in my trunk as well, before slowly closing it. The gate was locked and would be too noisy if I tried to open it, so I made my way to Teller-Morrow and slipped through the building. I found a window that faced a backstreet and opened it up and climbed outside.

The whiskey was really getting to me know, but that was the fun part of hunting werewolves. They could smell the alcohol on you from miles. If I could get close to the warehouse and have that motherfucker smell me, I could lure it off and kill it. Instead of Jax or one of the other boys come face with it.

The warehouse was quiet. No lights. No SAMCRO strutting about. No werewolf either.

I was about a quarter of a mile away from the warehouse, sitting at the base of a tree. I haven't seen anyone or anything move for about an hour, I was beginning to think the werewolf had just given up or moved to a different area. Which would be even worse.

I stood up and stretched. I saw the warehouse light up and the doors swing open. Had the boys seen something I haven't? I moved ever so slightly closer to the building when I heard a growl. A low grumble from the other side of the building. It was definitely a werewolf.

I watched as Jax, Opie, Tig and Juice walked around the warehouse, guns in all their hands. Those idiots were going to get hurt. I had to distract them away from the wolf. Or the wolf away from them. I started circling around the building, gun in my hand, ready to go whenever the werewolf showed their ugly face.

Opie took off in the direction of the growl. "Opie, no you stupid son of a bitch," I whispered. Opie was as tall and broad as Sam, but I knew there was no way in hell he could take a wolf.

Another growl happened, and then it turns into a full on howl. I saw the turns move as the werewolf moved fast towards Opie. Damnit.

I pushed myself through the trees and passed Juice. "Opie! Get down!"

"Y/N?" Juice, he tried to grab my arm but I pushed him off. "Down on the ground. All of you!"

"Y/N!" Jax yelled at me.

"On the ground!" I screamed at him. The trees and bushed rustled as the wolf jumped into our view. It was short girl with shoulder length hair. Her teeth were yellow and wide and her mouth hung open. Saliva and blood poured from her mouth.

"What the hell is that?" Tig asked.

Opie backed up and the wolf snarled at him.

"Hey, bitch!" I called at her.

She looked at me and rolled her yellow eyes. "If I knew a Winchester was going to be here, I would have brought my pack."

"It's a special occasion," I said, shaking my gun so it would reflect in the moon light. "I hope you like silver."

I aimed my pistol at her and pulled the trigger, but she was fast and took off; making the bullet whiz through the trees. "Oh, come on! Do you know how hard it is to make silver bullets?!"

Opie ducked as she leaped over him and headed straight from Jax. "Y/N!" Juice yelled at me when I took off.

"Go back to the warehouse!" I called over my shoulder.

She knocked Jax onto his back. I slid to them and kicked her in the stomach, making her fall over and off of him.

"Let me explain something to you," I said, my eyes wide and sparkling with adrenaline. "You and your pack come and touch my boys and that really pisses me the hell off." I put my foot on her stomach to pin her down to the ground. "I would tell you to go back and tell the other assholes in your pack, but what I'm about to do is going to leave a big message."

"Fuck off," she growled.

I aimed the gun at her hurt and pulled the trigger.

She stopped moving and I removed my foot from off her stomach.

"What the fuck?" I turned around and saw Jax was still on the ground. The shoulder of his leather cut and jacket were sliced through and bright blood was trickling through. "What did you just do?"

"Shush," I whispered, squatting next to him. "You're hurt."

Jax let out a groan as I helped him sit up. There was a howl from off in the distance and I knew we had to get out and back to The Clubhouse. "How did she know who you are?" Jax asked.

I pulled Jax up from the ground. "I'll explain everything but we got to go. Now."

All the boys were piling outside of the warehouse, staring me down. "Holy shit, Jackie Boy," Chibs said as we got closer. "What happened?"

"Listen, we need to go. Before another one of those things comes back." I heard more howls, getting closer. "Now," I pushed Juice towards the van. "Now, come on. I'm not kidding."

All of them climbed in and I helped Jax inside. "Juicy, I need you to go as fast as you can," I said, turning around and watching the trees rustle. "Now."

Juice nodded his head and turned on the van. It jerked on and we all took off.

Jax was leaning his head against my shoulder. The blood from his wound was all over me, the seat, and his hair. I sighed and fished my phone out of my pocket, dialing Dean's number.

"What?" Dean asked.

"What are you and Sam hunting?" I asked him.

"Werewolves, why?"

Jax groaned as he shifted around. "You two need to get here soon. We got wolves in Charming."