#who he looked forward to talk to every morning. but when his future wife became that person he knew she was the one

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Carmy doesn't realize that when he expresses his love, it inspires those around him.

Richie used to struggle with self-hatred until he went to Ever and started wearing suits and his self-love came from Carmy's love of the industry.

And Carmy's love for the culinary world inspired Marcus love for baking, whose love of the craft stays consistent because of the love he has for his mom.

How Carmy's love of the industry and having the best knives inspired Tina to be the best.

How Carmy's love to be the best in his field inspired Luca to be better.

Lastly how Carmy's deep love for MIKEY was expressed in that dish. Not the industry but the love he had for another human being inspired Sydney to be the best chef she could be.

And how her love for him will inspire him to be a better chef.

I hate this show.

[sunnyferr]

"The characters from Naruto realizing they're in love."

Hello, this is my first headcanon! Please bear with me as I'm not very fluent in English, but I'll do my best <3

Characters: Naruto, Sasuke and Shikamaru

The first thoughts towards you were something like "She's too nice of a girl!" because you were kind and quite fun, to be honest! I spent most of my time with you. If we weren't training, we were eating ramen at Ichiraku, and if we weren't eating, we were bothering Tsunade or Sakura.

Spending time with you became a habit in our afternoons, mornings, and nights. There were times when you went on missions for almost a whole week. Strangely, I felt empty without you. After all, you were my teammate and best friend, right?

Well... not entirely. I loved you, but I just thought it was another teenage crush like the one with Sakura. But it wasn't really like that. I felt a connection for a long time. The fear of rejection was the real issue...

The day I accepted loving you was the day you almost lost your life facing some ninjas from the Sound Village. You came back badly wounded. Seeing that scene, I felt something break inside me. I didn't want to see you harmed, I wanted to protect you.

When you came out of the hospital, with your hands bandaged and a few scratches here and there, I was waiting for you at the door. Upon seeing me, you asked what I was doing there. I invited you to eat ramen, thinking it would ease any pain you were feeling at that moment. We walked slowly to Ichiraku, sat down, and ate almost until bursting. Both of us satisfied, you put money on the table, but I placed a sum higher than yours. You looked at me strangely, "I'll pay, y/n-chan..." You vehemently refused, trying to pay yourself. Ichiraku and its daughter watched amusedly, the argument was small, like when we argued as kids. After some back and forth, we split the bill evenly, and we left the food stall. I walked you home, we talked about everything, but little by little I felt our hands brushing more than usual. Suddenly, I stopped and stood in front of you, uttering the words that had been longing to come out of my mouth.

"These past few days have been the best since you've been with me. I would like to always be by your side... I ask you, please, to be my girl until the end of time. I promise I'll always protect you! Dattebayo!"

Quite challenging, honestly. He's like a stone, shows you NOTHING, I'd even believe a stone could show more affection than him. The first thought he had of you was a 'hmph...' and NOTHING ELSE.

But that changes when he sees you train. He sees you as a strong and powerful woman, trying to move forward and continue training with a fixed goal in mind. He adores that his partner has a fixed goal and strives to achieve it (as he does, actually).

He wants a partner who fights alongside him, not someone he has to rescue from every problem they encounter. And when he noticed how independent and resourceful you were, he fell for you like nobody else.

At first, it was hard for him to accept that he was utterly lost in your presence as the Alpha Female, given that his pride is bigger than his body. But he wanted you to be with him as his future wife and to restore the clan with you (😏).

He took you by surprise, seeing him at the window of your house, leaning on the frame. The moonlight illuminated the room, and the curtains danced in an infinite seeming dance. Sasuke had left the village a long time ago, but he visited you almost every day, and you never knew the exact reason, but you almost expected him every day. 'What are you doing here? I thought you had an important mission tonight!' you said, snapping out of the surprise that the dark-haired boy had given you. He stepped away from the window frame and approached you slowly, taking your hands delicately. His hands were very cold compared to yours, which radiated a warm embrace. He sighed and spat out the words that had been stuck in his chest:

"I need to be by your side. It makes me feel calm with myself. Right now, I'm giving you the opportunity to escape together and restore my clan... both of us, together."

(my baby❤️)

He is the true "mastermind" (Taylor reference). Since he realized his love for you, he began to play with your mind little by little so that you would fall into his love trap.

I know he seems like a lazy guy who doesn't care about anything (which he actually is), but when he felt the direct hit to his heart, he realized he couldn't let you slip away from him.

"How annoying you are, I guess I'll have to accompany you so you don't get lost, right?" It seems like you're forcing him to accompany you, right? NO, he indirectly offered to take you to Training Ground Number 5 (even though you knew perfectly well where it was).

He would make all the dominoes fall perfectly in his favor, and he knew that you also felt something strong for him (Ino, the gossip, never tell him about your loves again).

You arrived at the gates of the village; you had been away for a few days on an important mission, with an important scroll in your hands. At the entrance, the boy with eyes as dark as night was waiting for you. He greeted you as usual, teasing you about being too slow. He always made silly jokes because he knew it annoyed you a little, but it was funny to see you like that. He offered to carry the scroll together, and you accepted. You walked together to the Hokage's tower, and before entering Tsunade's office, a hand on your wrist stopped you.

"Lately... you've been more annoying than usual... you never leave my mind, and the clouds I see every day. I need to confess to you that I don't want you to be just annoying in my dreams, but also by my side. What do you say?"

[eiflawriting]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

(✧) ─ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 quick lovemaking after a long day at work...

(✧) ─ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔! black woman who uses she/her pronouns. established relationship (husband!wife), chubby!reader, non sorcerer modern au. usage of profanity, masturbation, spooning position, mating press (towards the end) praise kink, spit kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampie, terms of endearment — sweetheart, angel, dear, baby, my love, etc. a quickie, but very soft and sensual. kento is just a very h*rny man who craves his wife's touch. this has slight plot but it’s pretty fast paced! 2.6k word count.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(✧) ─ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

hey y'all. this will be my last fanfic of the year, and of course it's my husband kento. i was inspired by this five second clip. don't even know who that is, but i was like whew. ART CREDIT — ilameys via twitter. be prepared for this to be a husband!wife series. who knows? hehe. don't have much to say, but i hope y'all enjoy. HAPPY NEW YEAR. 🥂 interactions would be greatly appreciated. ♡ eighteen plus only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. available to read on ao3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ click here to check out my masterlists. ♡

𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑰 𝑻𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵 𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬—again. It was probably the fourth time this week doing so. Being a salaryman wasn't easy. Long shifts. Lack of sleep. Barely having the time to tend to his personal life. This was a lifestyle that Nanami was used to and ultimately okay with. However, that all changed when he met his beautiful wife, Y/N. She was his joy. Everything he did was for the sake of their future together, but along the way, he couldn't help but feel as if he was neglecting her. 

Although work can be crazy at times, this week was busier than usual, causing his time with Y/N to be limited. He missed her dearly. The most time he had with her this week was fifteen minutes in the morning while eating breakfast or when she would bring his lunch to him at work. Whatever time spent, he was sure to cherish. But the personal joys they did together, such as reading books, going to museums, or a stroll in the city, is what he really wanted. 

Nanami looked forward to the weekend because he knew he would use off time to make up for lost time with Y/N. 

He returned home, and to his surprise, a plate of food was on the table, wrapped up and awaiting his arrival. He cursed himself for allowing this to happen again. Eating meals were his staple with Y/N, especially dinner since it would just be them talking about how their day went. 

After heating up the food to eat, which tasted just as good as if it was freshly made, he went to shower in the guest bathroom downstairs so he wouldn't wake up Y/N. As he was showering, his thoughts got the best of him. 

What if she leaves me? I wouldn't be surprised if she finds someone else to give her the attention she deserves. 

Why was Nanami thinking this way? He didn't know. But his thoughts soon became lewd. Fuck, he desperately needed Y/N. It's been almost a week since they had sex. Her pussy was his home, and he yearned for her comfort. 

He missed the taste of her arousal lingering on his tongue. How she wrapped around him, moaning his name. He was deprived of Y/N's touch and only wished it was her who was currently stroking his cock for him. She did a much more suitable job. The two-hand twist combo she does—yeah, he needed that. Nanami knew he wouldn't be able to control himself the next time he had an opportunity fucking his wife. 

His strokes increased with the thought of Y/N in mind. Her beautiful full, saggy tits that he enjoyed putting his dick in between. He took his time to cherish her thick body with kisses, outlining every stretch mark with his tongue. Her ass, decorated with cellulite and waves resembling the ocean, would form when she took him from the back. His favorite place to hold was her love handles. She was slightly insecure about them, but Nanami vowed to handle them with extra love. 

She was simply perfect. 

Seeing her kneel before him to suck him off, pretty plush lips parting around his cock. Gosh, why were these thoughts flooding his mind? Maybe that was why he was moaning Y/N's name low enough so only he could hear. He needed to fuck her. His dick was aching for her pussy. It only took Nanami thinking about how ethereal she looked while cumming before a spray of his bitters hit the shower wall. His grunts were low yet harsh, nearly gasping for air. Such a satyromaniac he was. 

Once Nanami was done with his shower and masturbation session, he went upstairs to join Y/N in bed. Before doing so, he stood in the doorframe to watch her peacefully sleep. She was so damn beautiful. Living in a high-rise condo had its perks, and witnessing how the moonlight descended upon her dark brown skin was one of them. Even nature was captivated by Y/N's beauty. Sometimes Nanami even questions how he was so blessed to marry a woman like her? 

He watched Y/N a bit longer before walking to the dresser to grab briefs to wear. Nanami's preparation for bed included moisturizing his skin and spraying Y/N's favorite cologne that she gifted him—Bleu de Chanel. After doing his quick routine, he quietly slipped into bed to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek and have his arms find her waist to take comfort. Spooning her was a feeling Nanami would never grow weary of. 

As he slowly intertwined his fingers with Y/N, he felt her bringing his hands to her lips to place delicate kisses. 

"Hi, Ken. You're home," Y/N said softly in her sleepy voice. Even so, she sounds sweet. 

"Hi, my love. I'm sorry for waking you."

"No, it's okay, baby. I was waiting for you anyways—" She yawns, "but I kind of dozed off."

He sat up a bit to look at her while talking. "It's only my own fault for returning home late. However, I told you not to wait for me, sweetheart. I don't want you to lose sleep because of me."

"It's okay, Kento—I want to." Y/N rested her hand on his cheek to gently brush her thumb on his bottom lip. Even through heavy eyes, she looked at him with such tenderness. Nanami held Y/N's wrist to lean into her touch. This is what he looked forward to when coming home. 

She continued, 

"How was your day?"

"It wasn't too bad. I have no complaints about how I'm ending it," he replied with a small smile. 

"Did you eat the food I left on the table?"

"I did. It was delicious. Thank you, dear."

"Anything for you." While massaging his bottom lip, she puckered her own to ask for a kiss, which Nanami happily gave. 

The first few smooches started innocently, becoming familiar with the sweetness of her raspberry-flavored gloss that she always wore to bed. But Nanami's urges tempted him to do more. He left gentle kisses on Y/N's face before trailing down her neck. The kisses were filled with libido, nipping on her flesh to pull those faint whimpers from her chest. The sound alone had adrenaline rushing to his cock. 

Nanami reached under the covers to ascend his hand up her nightgown to massage the plushness of her ass, slowly creeping his fingers between her folds. She pulled off the covers so he could have better access to feel her pussy, opening her legs up. 

Y/N's wetness caused Nanami to curse against her skin, yet he felt selfish for waking her up for his sexual desires. So he began to pull away. 

"I'm sorry, my love. You're tired. We shouldn't be doing this."

She pulled him back to her lips. "No, Ken, please. I need you, baby. Just a quick one from the side, okay?" 

How could he say no to that? 

He kissed her passionately, immediately forcing his tongue to the back of her throat. In between smooches, Nanami told Y/N how much he loved and missed her, pulling down his briefs to give himself a few strokes. He lifted her leg up to swipe his dick along her heated wetness. She moaned into his mouth, which he devoured while aligning himself with her entrance to push his way through. 

Y/N nipped on his bottom lip to let out a lingering whine upon feeling her pussy split open. A week feels like forever since they were engulfed in each other's warmth. However, for Nanami? He just knew he would bust quickly.

Being inside Y/N felt like sitting on a cloud. No worries. Just peace. Her juices produced heat that could keep his cock warm on a cold day in the city. Nanami continued to slide in her walls until his tip met with that sweet spot that made her a mewling mess. Upon the meeting, he began thrusting. 

He hooked Y/N's leg over his forearm as he pounded her pussy. The tips of his ears burned red due to hearing those soft sounds of pleasure airing past her lips. The gushing of her pussy acted as a harmony that resonated with the moans she was already producing. She croaked, no begged Nanami to fuck her harder because she was just as deprived of him. 

Nanami had no complaints about working his thigh muscles. Hearing Y/N desire him always motivated him to deliver her climax sooner. There was something about fucking her wet fat pussy that made him hornier than usual. Perhaps thrusting past Y/N's puffy folds decorated with strands of hair had something to do with it? He couldn't explain it, but the hair on her pussy added an extra pleasure that he loved. 

He gave her a sensual smooch, then ghosted his lips over hers to watch her eyes light up in great delight. 

"Ken—this feels so good," Y/N purred. 

"No, you feel so good. I miss you so much. You've been such a good girl keeping this pussy nice and warm for me. You're squeezing me perfectly."

"I love you."

His dick twitched. "Fuck, I love you, too, sweetheart. My perfect angel."

His drive now resembled a wild animal. He didn't know where to place his hands. One minute they were rubbing her tits, the next it was toying with her clit. Nanami was fucking Y/N as if there was no tomorrow, balls slapping against her ass. The sounds of her pussy gushing began to heighten in volume. Anyone listening would think it was a steamy porno video, but it was just two lovers making sweet love to each other. 

If Y/N was tired before, she was definitely awake now. Despite that, she knew this quick fuck would put her to sleep. She loved his dick. So long and girthy, every inch filling her insides to feel the veins engrave her walls. Y/N wasn't the one to boost a man's ego by saying her pussy was theirs, but she would scream at the top of her lungs to let the world know it was Nanami's. 

Being a good husband and good dick will definitely have you this way. 

Y/N pulled her tits out of the nightgown she was wearing. Without asking, of course, Nanami swallowed her breast to suck while fucking her. With every thrust he took, her nerves increased. It would only take a few more until she came over his cock. Her moans were breathy yet clear. Lips held agape while droplets of drool coated the side of her mouth. Her pussy clenched and unclenched Nanami, stuck between not wanting to let go and almost ready to let go. 

After sucking on her tits, Nanami detached from them with a pop to look at Y/N. How could someone look this beautiful while being stuffed with cock? He was close to cumming from just watching her, but feeling her? Pussy painting his dick white? The juices leaking between her thighs and remnants on his balls, their sheets? His eyes rolled back at the sensation. If Nanami didn't know any better, his toes were also curling. 

"I'm sorry for being away from this for so long, sweetheart. Fuck, I can't stress enough how amazing you feel. How are you this wet?"

"It's okay, baby," Y/N whimpered. Why does she sound like that? It's like her voice was filled with honey. 

He nodded, giving her soft smooches. "Yeah, it's okay? Hm?"

"Y-Yes, Ken. I-I'm so close. 'M want more."

He slammed into her pussy at full force while rubbing mercilessly at her needy bud. He began moaning her name and calling her a good girl for taking him so well. Their brown irises were blown with pure lust as they held contact with each other. Y/N placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer. She stuck out her tongue, and Nanami never expected he had a spitting kink until he met Y/N. He allowed a long string of spit to drip into her mouth before meeting her lips again. 

The kiss was sloppy, loud, and obnoxious. The power in his thrusts was beyond him. Y/N's pussy just felt too good not to fuck like this. Pussy like this was bound to make him a satyromaniac. Pussy like this makes him want to breed her. 

"This pussy is so good, angel. I want to fuck my cum deep inside you and make you a mommy. Would you like that?" Nanami rasped.

"Oh God, yes. Yes, Kento. Please cum in my pussy. Make me a mommy." Y/N's hand trailed down his spine, stopping at his lower back to pat repeatedly. She was there. She was—"Baby, keep fucking me like this. I'm cumming."

"Fuck, Y/N."

He quickly pulled out to turn Y/N on her back to pin both her thighs back as far as they could. Before Nanami slid back in, he slapped his cock on her clit to hear that pretty sure of her pussy gushing. The feeling of returning inside her was even warmer than before. Nanami pounded into her at a steady pace but ensured every thrust was passionate. Hearing Y/N scream out his name only gave him more motivation. 

She gripped the sheets beneath her doing her best to take this deep fucking from Nanami. To have the energy to fuck like this after a long day at work was mind-blowing to Y/N. But not as blown as her pussy. She whimpered through every last thrust until her vision blurred and tears pricked the corner of her eyes. She stared at Nanami. He always fucks her well. However, this? This was more than usual. What's gotten into him? Why was he fucking her like this? 

"Ken…" came out as a faint whisper. 

She orgasmed. 

While looking into his crisp brown eyes, she saw stars. Her walls were contracting uncontrollably around him. Seven minutes of being fucked into oblivion of ecstasy. Words couldn't even come through due to them tangling in her throat. Just breathy moans that were hitched. She repeatedly mouthed, "Thank you, I love you," because that's how she truly felt. Fucked and in love. 

And it didn't take a while for Nanami to follow behind. 

As he continued to fuck Y/N through her orgasm, squirt splashed between them and leaked down their sheets. Heat rushed to the center of his face. An overflow of his cum shot through the tip of his cock to flood her pussy. Harsh curse words sinfully slipped through Nanami's lips as soon as his release came, but his powerful thrusts didn't stop. He wanted to ensure he milked every last bit of his seeds in Y/N as deep as possible. Nanami was very serious about making her a mother.

The coiled moans finally unravel in Y/N's throat upon feeling his heated cum ooze in her pussy. She continued by expressing gratitude for the long-needed orgasm she yearned for. 

Nanami eventually halted his thrusts to allow his cock to get cozy in her pussy. He unpinned her thighs to let them wrap around his waist, and she did the same with her arms to pull him into a passionate kiss. While swirling tongues, Nanami slowly pulled out, to which they shared a final moan. 

Y/N felt complete with the amount of cum marinating in her pussy. And when remnants attempted to leak out, Nanami would swirl his finger inside of her to push them back in. She knew this would definitely be enough to get her pregnant.

After a few more kisses, Nanami rolled on his back to let out a heavy breath. He pulled Y/N onto his chest to kiss her forehead softly.

"Was I too rough with you toward the end?" 

"Hm, kinda. But honestly—I loved it. I wouldn't mind if you fucked me like that from time to time," Y/N answered. 

He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙. ♡

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 ── @dejwrites @maydayaisha @ayyy-pee @beniswife @babykaz @maginxlia @sexbob-ombbeck @softimgyu @sunnytalia3 @violxtbxbyy @potofstewie @aiyaaayei @aizensballsweat @diamondoidxx @abbarattion @kentovana @blackfangedreaper @sirenh4ll @adorabubblesblog @succubusonthedoorstep @zyettemoon1800 @wang-lizard @arminlator @jellymantra33 @si00p @carriesblenders @6kuna @cienakim @510hz @doumalove

[iamthemain-character]

thank you for requesting, i hope you like it!

Call It What It Is

benedict bridgerton x reader

she/her pronouns

TW: pining

requested by @stollls

bridgerton masterlist

With a sigh of frustration, Benedict ripped the page out of his sketch pad, crumpling it up and throwing it into the fire.

“Something bothering you brother dearest?” Eloise teased, not even sparing a glance from the book in her hand.

In reality she knew what Benedict was trying to ignore; there had been rumors of a serious courtship between Y/n Y/l/n and a young gentleman, but the three dances they shared at the ball the previous night seemed to confirm it. Everyone had watched as the pair danced and chatted the night away, and it seemed only a matter of time before the young miss would become a mrs.

Y/n had long been an acquaintance of Benedict’s, with both bonding over their love of the arts, and yet nothing serious ever happened between them. They saw each other and kept each other company at various social events, and Benedict had thoroughly enjoyed Y/n’s company. For two seasons the pair had navigated their society together, enjoying the break from overactive mamas, dull suitors, and the pressures that were at every turn as the young people got older.

Over time, Benedict found himself falling more and more in love with Y/n. Her laugh, the way she lit up when she was talking about something she was passionate about, her kindness, and her beauty were all things he had come to know and love. Benedict found himself longing for Y/n’s companionship when they were apart, and she soon became a source of inspiration for most of his art. Typically anyone this in love would have marched right into church and taken the vows, but Benedict fancied himself and Y/n still young. He was a free spirit, and he did not feel anywhere near ready to be a husband and settle down, no matter how much he was in love with Y/n. So Benedict waited, simply enjoying life as it came.

But when Benedict had watched the suitor dance with Y/n and make her laugh, something odd had stirred inside of him. For two seasons it had been him dancing with Y/n, making her laugh, keeping her sane through the tedious process of their society, loving her as she was, and yet she was to be betrothed to another. The reality that Y/n would soon no longer be his scared Benedict, and he knew it was no fault but his own. Eloise had told him a million times over that women had to marry, that they did not have the freedom to be single forever, but yet Benedict had never imagined Y/n with anyone else.

In that moment, Benedict realized that when he woke up in the morning, it was Y/n he imagined in bed beside him. It was her he wanted to dance with, to talk with, to share his art with. He wanted to worship her in every possible way, and in his hopes and dreams Y/n was always a part of his future. And yet he had never said that, never asked if Y/n shared that future, and now it was too late. Benedict would be forced to be parted from Y/n, to watch her carry another man’s babies, to be a wife to a man who Benedict could not imagine loved her as much as he did.

“Are you going to spend the entire day moping here or are you going to do something about it.” Eloise snapped her book shut, leaning forward as she confronted her brother.

“I am sure I do not know what you mean.”

“Oh don’t pretend Ben, anyone with eyes can see that you are a fool who is madly in love with Y/n. You have been miserable and moody ever since you found out she was being courted, so now I must ask if you are going to do something about it or simply continue to be pathetic.”

Benedict looked at his sister from over the top of his sketchbook, not impressed with her overly sarcastic tone and smug face. “There is nothing to be done. I have never made any such claim to Y/n and now she will be married to another. That is the end of it.”

Rolling her eyes, Eloise got up from the sofa, snatching Benedict’s sketchbook out of his hands. “Go now, tell Y/n how you feel. Be a fool in love, tell her you will die without her, read her poetry, I don’t care. Just don’t let her go without making an effort, for I do not feel like having your grumpy mood ruin my morning reading for the rest of our lives.”

For a moment Bendict just stared at his sister, surprised and unsure of what to do. But he soon came to realize that she was right, that as long as Y/n had not taken her vows, there was still time to tell her how he felt. Even if Y/n rejected Benedict, he would at least have the peace of mind knowing he had tried.

Jumping up, Benedict hugged Eloise, with elicited a small grunt of surprise. “Thank you El, you are my favorite sister!” With that he let go and rushed out the door, not wanting to waste anymore time.

Y/n was exactly where Benedict thought she would be at this time. Her family’s estate had a beautiful flower garden, and despite having servants to do the gardening, Y/n preferred to tend to the flowers herself.

Having scared half the servants as he tore through the hallway in his mad dash, Benedict stopped short at the edge of the garden as he took in the sight before him. Y/n stood with her suitor at the edge of a flower bed, looking down at the grass. He was saying words, but Benedict couldn’t hear them from that distance. Y/n said something in return, but Benedict had never been good with reading lips.

Y/n’s suitor made a little bow, and began to turn away from her. Panicked and not wanting to be seen, Benedict dashed behind the door and pressed himself against the wall. The suitor soon passed and left the hallway, leaving Benedict to resume his previous venture.

When Benedict looked at Y/n again, she was knelt beside the same flowerbed, her skirts billowing out on the grass. She was bent over the flowers, pulling out little weeds that threatened to choke them. The sun shone down on her back, highlighting her hair. Some strands and pieces had fallen out of her updo, falling around her face. Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she battled with some particularly stubborn weeds, determination apparent in her features.

Benedict wanted nothing more than to stop and paint the entire scene, to capture the moment forever. His heart warmed and flooded his body with the feeling that only Y/n could elicit from him, a sense of pure adoration and love. Then Benedict remembered the recent departure of Y/n’s expectant bethrothed, and his happiness was replaced with panic. Rushing down the stairs and into the garden, Benedict was desperate to at least let Y/n know how he really felt.

“Y/n!”

The woman in question looked up to see Benedict rushing towards her. Giving a concerned smile, Y/n waved and patted the grass next to her. “Is everything alright Ben?”

Benedict knelt down next to Y/n, slightly out of breath from his hasty venture across the garden. “No, no it’s not.”

“Whatever has happened? Is your family alright?”

“My family is the perfect picture of health, there is no concern for them, but I am in utter agony Y/n.” Benedict paused, taking Y/n’s hands into his. “Please do not marry that man.”

Y/n’s lips parted, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t understand-“

“I have been an utter fool; for years you have been my dearest friend, my favorite person to be around, my most trusted confidant, and the person I cannot live without. Lady Whistledown believed that I would propose any day, and yet I have done nothing to prove my affections and devotions. I have taken your presence for granted, assuming I would never be parted for you, and so I never previously voiced my affections. For that, I ask for your forgiveness. Your suitor has been everything that I am not, he has courted you properly, and he can provide you with everything a young lady could ask for. He is sensible, kind, and can provide you with a good life. I am reckless, my head is in the clouds, and while I am wealthy I am a fool. But I’m asking you now, do not marry him, marry me instead.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I am in love with you, hopelessly and endlessly. You are my first thought in the morning and my last hope at night. You are my muse of all my artist endeavors, and you have consumed my mind, body, and soul entirely. I love you Y/n, I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you until the end of time. And if you will, please, do not leave me now, and I will do everything that I can yo make you happy.” Benedict took a breath, and swallowed the lump in his throat. Looking down at their hands, he nodded slowly. “But, if you do not feel the same, if this man is who you desire, then I will leave at once. I will celebrate your marriage and you will never hear of this nonsense from me again. I just needed to know if you felt the same.”

Anxiously Benedict’s thumbs were running circles on the back on Y/n’s hands. Slowly Y/n removed her hands from his, but before Benedict’s heart completely fell she placed them on either side of his face. Benedict lifted his eyes to look at Y/n, and she smiled in return. Then slowly she leaned in, touching their noses together, before she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment, Benedict was frozen in shock, unsure of what was happening, but then he melted into Y/n’s touch. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. The same warmth flooded his body as he enjoyed the sensation, finally kissing Y/n as he had long dreamed.

All too soon, however, Y/n pulled away, biting her lip to contain her smile. “I have long loved you Benedict, and I would rather marry you than anyone else in the world. I love every part of you, and you make me the happiest person in the world.”

For a moment Benedict couldn’t believe what he was hearing, that all his dreams were coming true, but he quickly recovered. Tightening his arms around Y/n, he pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her so tightly as if she would slip away. Neither Benedict nor Y/n cared for propriety in this moment, both just laughing together as they celebrated their love and their future to come.

[ijustwant2write]

‘I want that with you’-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

(GIF credit to @misskatesharma​)

Requested by @elennox03: ‘I’d like to request an Anthony Bridgerton x read imagine. I’m a huge sucker for husband!anthony. Can you write an imagine where Anthony and his wife are visiting the Bridgerton house and he sees his wife with his youngest sibilings and he realizes he wants to be a dad. When they leave and go back to their house he admits to her that he wants a kid and it’s really fluffy and maybe a little smutty? 🥺’

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Bridgerton family x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF, SMUT

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anthony sat at the table, newspaper in hand as he waited for his wife to join him for breakfast. The servants were ready to serve the food as soon as the Viscountess sat down. Anthony was engrossed in the headlines of the day, until he heard someone descending the stairs. He hoped it was his wife, smiling when he saw the doors being opened for her in his peripheral. 

“Good morning darling.” he greeted.

“Good morning. Sorry to keep you waiting, last time we visited your family I promised Hyacinth I would wear this dress, it is her favourite.” she approached him, kissing him on the forehead before taking her seat, where a servant pushed it in for her. 

“No bother, we shall still be there on time.” Anthony put down the newspaper as breakfast was laid out in front of them.

“I am excited to be visiting again. Especially since Daphne’s season is coming up.”

Anthony’s happy expression vanished at the thought.“Don’t remind me.”

(Y/N) giggled at her husband as they started eating.“Here he is, the protective older brother.”

“Well, I have to be. We both know men will come flocking towards her, and she will be so hypnotised by it that she won’t think about getting to know them. And to add to that, I know a majority of the men in this community, they go to my club, and there’s a lot I don’t want near her.”

“Oh darling, don’t get yourself too stressed over these matters. I’m sure you will have no trouble finding someone for her. Now let us eat, I am starving.”

Once they finished, the pair headed to the foyer, their servants already waiting with gloves, coats and capes, as well as a hat for Anthony. They put on everything, (Y/N) taking Anthony’s arm as they walked outside to the carriage. The couple didn’t need to speak to enjoy each others company, still holding hands as they looked out of the windows, the familiar streets passing by, before they both recognised the area in which their family lived in. (Y/N) loved being a Bridgerton, not only because she had fallen completely in love with Anthony, but because he had the most wonderful family. She had many friends who’s families were stuck up, or too strict, with some only just liking their husbands. (Y/N)’s whole body filled up with adoration for Anthony every time she looked at him, and her heart swelled whenever he looked back. (Y/N) knew she was extremely lucky, and she was thankful for that every single day. 

When they arrived at the Bridgerton house, they were welcomed in, taken to the drawing room where the entire family was sat. Gregory and Hyacinth were the first to make a move, jumping off of their chairs and shouting out their brother and sister-in-law’s names. Anthony scooped up his younger brother as (Y/N) knelt down to capture Hyacinth in a hug. When the married couple had first started courting, Hyacinth had been in awe of (Y/N), wondering if Anthony was in love with a princess.

The rest of the Bridgerton’s also stood to welcome Anthony and (Y/N). Hyacinth took (Y/N)’s hand and pulled her towards the sofa, sitting down together. She looked over (Y/N)’s dress, thrilled that she remembered to wear that one. As Violet began a conversation with (Y/N), Anthony approached Daphne, intending to talk about her upcoming season, but she beat him to it.

“Anthony, I should like to ask you a few questions regarding my debut.” Daphne started.

“Wonderful, I was just about to bring up the matter. So, in a few weeks, you shall be presented-”

“No, I know how it all works brother. Mama has told me all about it. I wanted to ask you about, well, the more personal side of it. And I think it would benefit me to see it from a gentleman’s perspective.”

Anthony dreaded to think what she would come up with.“Ah, maybe this is a conversation for mama-”

“I was wondering what it felt like when you realised (Y/N) was the one for you. How did you choose her? Was it something that stood out? Something I should be doing?”

Anthony chuckled at his sister’s questions, and how innocent she was. He wished she would stay like this forever.“I believe it is different for everyone sister. I...I don’t know how to explain it, but,” he looked over to (Y/N), who now had Hyacinth cuddled into her side as she and Violet talked,“it felt right. Like when you know the answer to a question, and that feeling of certainty goes through you. You don’t have any ‘what ifs’ about the future, because you know that no matter what happens, they will be the person by your side.”

Daphne smiled as she glanced in the same direction, before looking back to her brother. She had seen that expression of his many times when he was with (Y/N), and she wished someone would look at her that way during her season.

“(Y/N),” Gregory caught her attention. He was sat on the floor,“will we be having a cousin soon? Some of my friends have loads of cousins to play with.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure how to answer, and Violet sensed that. The older siblings felt a slight awkwardness in the air, knowing it was a touchy subject.

Violet smiled, trying to lighten the mood.“Why don’t we take lunch outside? It is such a beautiful day.”

The eldest siblings all quickly agreed, moving almost immediately. Gregory felt that he had said something wrong, especially wen he saw (Y/N)’s face. Anthony was about to comfort her when Gregory stood up and held her hand, Hyacinth was already holding the other one. 

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” he said, pouting slightly.

(Y/N) gave him a comforting smile, kneeling down between the two.“Don’t worry, you did no such thing. Tell you what, why don’t we play outside after lunch? But you’ve got to let me win at least one game.”

The children giggled, knowing that (Y/N) had never been very good at winning whatever games they played. But both nodded, going ahead of her when she gently pushed them forwards. Standing back up, she realised Anthony had been watching her the whole time.

“What? What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he replied, quickly pecking her on the lips.“Come, let us join our family.”

The rest of the afternoon went by too fast for (Y/N)’s liking. Over lunch she discussed Daphne’s debut, giving her advice on how to deduct herself and little ways to flirt when Anthony and Violet weren’t listening. Their giggles didn’t go unnoticed, Anthony scolding Collin and Benedict for not paying attention to the girls. 

“(Y/N), can we go play now?” Gregory asked as soon as she was finished eating.

“Gregory, you have only just finished for food too. Wait a while, otherwise you will have a bad stomach.” Violet warned him.

“She is not a toy for you two to play with. Some of us would like to speak with (Y/N) too you know.” Daphne pointed out, only to have Gregory stick his tongue out at her.

“We will play once our food has settled, yes?” (Y/N) nodded to the children, who knew they would be waiting as the grown ups talked. 

Anthony had that thought again. Hyacinth and Gregory adored (Y/N), and she had such a way with children. And it wasn’t all smooth sailing with these two, (Y/N) had told them off a few times. It was natural thing that came to her, a natural thing he had put off for so long. Of course, they wanted to enjoy their time together without children, but seeing her like this, and with children of friends started to make him think that perhaps it was time. (Y/N) had only ever expressed her wanting of children once, which lead to an argument. Anthony had always felt pressured to be the one to marry first and produce heirs, so when he found (Y/N), his mama subtly hinted to him about having a baby as soon as possible; just to spite her, Anthony convinced (Y/N) not to dive headfirst into parenthood, something she went along with because she saw how stressed Anthony became on the subject. However, (Y/N) didn’t want to be past her time before it was too late to have a child.

“Alright then,” (Y/N) said as she, the two youngest and Collin stood on the grass,“what game are we playing?”

“Hide and seek!” Hyacinth quickly shouted before Gregory could even open his mouth.

“That’s so boring!” her brother whined.

“And aren’t (Y/N) and I slightly too big to be hiding?” Collin pointed out.

(Y/N) mocked offence.

“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it!”

(Y/N) laughed at him, much to Collin’s relief.

“Gregory, we do always play whatever you want.” (Y/N) said.“We’ll play hide and seek today.”

Hyacinth cheered, saying (Y/N) was the seeker before running off. Gregory was fast behind her, whilst Collin shrugged at (Y/N), going off to hide too. (Y/N) just rolled her eyes as she smiled, turning the other way and beginning to count. The others were still sat at the table, engrossed in a conversation, but Anthony was still watching (Y/N). She shook her head at him, still counting until she reckoned they were given enough time to hide. She announced she was coming, looking under benches and around trees and hedges, behind statues and pillars. Collin was the first to be found, unfortunately he was right about being too big to hide. They both set out to find the other two, keeping as quiet as they could.

(Y/N) heard rustling behind her, before something moved in behind the rose bushes. She held back for a moment, waking alongside it slowly to not alert the player  of her presence. Once they had no where else to go, (Y/N) waited for them to make a run for it, jumping out at them. This caused them to collide as they both yelped out, but ending up laughing as (Y/N) realised it was Hyacinth that she had caught. As they sat up, with (Y/N) checking she hadn’t hurt the girl, Collin came bounding over with Gregory over his shoulder.

Anthony knew what he wanted, and in that moment he had no patience. He wanted to tell (Y/N) about his intentions now, but knew it would be better to have that conversation in private. It was going to happen tonight, he needed to say it.

On the way home, (Y/N) noticed how Anthony’s hand was on her thigh, rather than holding her hand, and he was as close to her as he could possibly be. He kept kissing her too, holding her face in his other hand. Some were gentle and long kisses, other were hungry and passionate. (Y/N) was flustered, wondering why he was acting this way. When they arrived home, Anthony took her hand in his, quickly guiding her upstairs to their room.

“Anthony, what are-”

(Y/N) was silenced as he kissed her again, his hands now holding her waist. She embraced it, gripping onto his biceps as he walked them towards the bed. He pulled away, scooping her into his arms and gently laying her down on the bed. He straddled her, leaning down to kiss her again as she pushed off his jacket, trying to take off his shirt too. He sat up, taking it off, and for a moment, he was content with just looking at his wife. 

“Anthony?” she whispered.

His urges drove him forward, kissing down her neck and on top of her breasts, pulling her to sit up with him so he could undo her dress. She told him to stand, as did she, turning around so it was easier to rid of the garment. Once it was off, he pressed his body against the back of hers, taking a second to slow down. He ran his hands from her lower back, rounding her waist and cupping her breasts. She moaned at his touch, purposefully pushing against his crotch. He moved her to face him, knowing he had to tell her what was on his mind now before he completely forgot about them.

“(Y/N).” was all he managed to get out.

“Yes?” she looked back up at him with her beautiful eyes. 

“I...I want us to have a family.”

“I do too.”

“No, I mean...I’m ready.”

“You are?”

“Yes. I know I am. After seeing you today with my brother and sister, well, whenever you’re around children, I realised how selfish I have been. I married you because I love you. And love comes in many forms. One way to express our love is by creating a family of our own.”

“Anthony, are you sure? Because, because you know how happy that would make me?”

He smiled.“And that’s all I want to do, make you happy.”

“You do so every day. But this means the world to me. I love you.”

“I love you, so much. We’re ready (Y/N), we know what we both want. I want that with you.”

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (3/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: Lemon, 18+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage, talk of potential pregnancy

Word Count: 2461

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: Chapter three! I thought this entire fic would be around three chapters, but we're not even close to done yet!

Enjoy

The guest room isn't so bad. He becomes very acquainted with the unused room as his wife had elected to ignore him for the foreseeable future.

After the fourth night that he'd slept and attended meals with his parents without (y/n), Walburga brings up the absence of his wife in her own  special way . "You cannot sleep in a different room than your wife."

Regulus holds back from rolling his eyes, "you and father do not share a bedroom."

Walburga's ever-present frown deepens, "We already have a son."

Even after all these years, he hates that she pretends Sirius never existed.

"So this is about sex," he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

"It is."

"These things don't happen overnight."

"They don't happen if you do not participate in the happening," Walburga taps her manicured fingernails on the table. 

"What do you want me to do? I can't force her to sleep with me." Besides, if they did continue to have sex, he will unquestionably use contraceptive charms to ensure his wife did not conceive. 

Walburga studies his face, "If you do not try, you will not see success."

In an attempt to change the subject, he blurts out, "She is miserable here--"

"She will be content soon. Once she has the first child."

Orion takes this opportunity to speak up, "possibly you should take your new wife out of the country."

"Out of the country?" Regulus frowns.

"Take her out of this house on your honeymoon. Maybe visit Paris. It couldn't hurt after the past few days."

Honeymoon... he was hoping that he could avoid taking (y/n) on one of those. But, if Orion thinks this could make (y/n) happy... well, he supposes he can sacrifice the time.

***

Walburga catches him before he can make his way out of the dining room. 

"You must not cast those charms any longer."

Regulus would rather his mother not tell him he can and cannot use contraceptives... 

"Who says I did?"

Walburga squints angrily, "Next time you do your duty as the next Master of the house, make sure you give your seed time to take hold within your wife."

He draws his lips into a tight line, turning to leave the conversation before it became any more invasive.

No promises would be made to his mother or anyone else over the use of contraceptive charm. There was no need for a child in this present time. Things of that nature could wait.

***

"What are you doing here?" (y/n) asks when he walks into their shared bedroom.

"It's nice to see you too, wife."

She rolls her eyes, turning back to her novel.

"You were not at dinner tonight." Regulus unbuttons the top of his shirt.

"I wasn't hungry," she says without looking up from the book.

Regulus continues to undress, removing the cufflinks from his dress shirt. 

"Mother was wondering where you were."

"I'm sure she was."

He watches her for a moment. "We will be leaving soon."

(y/n) looks at him confused, "Who will?"

"You and I."

"Leaving where?"

"On our... honeymoon."

"What do you mean?"

Regulus bites the inside of his cheek, "I'm taking you to Paris on our honeymoon."

"Honeymoon..." (y/n) looks like she's contemplating giving him a  flat-out   no.

"I can tell you are tired of the house. The apartments I've secured are much  lighter  than Grimmauld Place. Moreover, it has an excellent view of the city."

"I don't know..."

Regulus steps forwards, taking her hand in his. "Just spare two weeks at the least." The pad of his thumb rubs underneath the ring on her left hand. He's secretly pleased to see she has not taken it off despite the state of their relationship currently.

"Regulus," (y/n) tries to move away from him.

"Please," he breathes out the word, "please, I'm trying."

(y/n) analyzes his face, "what would we do in Paris?"

"I could think of many things we could do."

She doesn't respond to his suggestive words.

"Is that a yes?"

"I'll think about it."

"We're leaving tomorrow. I've already made the arrangements."

"You can't just-- just--"

"I thought you'd be happy to get out of the house."

She sighs, her fingers worrying the dark fabric of her skirts, "Ok."

"Excellent," he brings her hand up to his lips, "I look forward to sharing your bed again, Mistress Black."

***

Dressed in a violet dress, I stick out, standing next to my in-laws and husband. Which is fine by me. I rather stick out than look like I'm a part of a funeral precession  every damned day .

"Are you ready?" Regulus holds his arm out to me.

I gently place my arm on his, nodding.

"Owl, if you decide to stay longer than planned," Orion looks to his son first than to me. He's got a small smile on his lips. I smile back politely.

"Naturally," Regulus says before apparating us away from the house.

I hate apparition. Hate it with my entire being. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly doesn't stop the uncomfortable movement of tumbling through time and space.

When I'm able to open my eyes, my fingers gripping Regulus's arm uncomfortably tight, I'm met with the sight of a large brick building.

"Are you okay?" Regulus steps in front of me. Cupping my face, he looks at me with concern.

I open my lips slightly, trying to find the words despite my churning stomach, "I just-- I just need a moment."

He nods, not letting go of my face. Then, almost absentmindedly, his thumb brushes against my cheek.

"I'm fine now. Where are we?" I squeak out, trying to distract him from continuing to touch my face like so.

Regulus snaps out of whatever was happening between us, his hands dropping from my face as he turns to look up at the building. 

"This is where we will be staying." He hesitates for a moment before gently grasping my hand in his, "Do you mind?"

I shake my head no.

"Let me show you the apartment." Regulus helps me up the three steps of the building before holding the door open. He motions towards the staircase, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walk up the large staircase.

Regulus unlocks the heavy wooden door, pushing it open for me.

The sunshine in this room shines brighter than in Grimmauld Place. Probably due to the airy curtains and the creamy champagne color that the walls are painted.

It's a complete contrast to the rooms we share at Grimmauld Place. 

"What do you think?" Regulus gently pulls me into the room.

I turn to admire the white comforter of the bed, running my fingers against the soft material. 

"It's beautiful."

Turning, I catch Regulus's eye. He's leaning against the dresser, watching me intently.

I bite the inside of my cheek, "What are you looking at?" 

"Am I not allowed to look at my wife?"

"Obviously, you are. If looking is all that is on your mind."

He actually smiles, looking down at the ground momentarily, " we are  on our honeymoon."

Rolling my eyes, I begin to walk past him towards the bathroom. However, Regulus's fingers wrap around my wrist, preventing me from exiting the conversation.

"Regulus--" I find myself in his arms, his fingers tilting my chin towards him. Even as I despise the way he's dragged me into his arms, I can't say I hate the feeling of his body pressed against mine.

"Do you want this?" I hate that he's so diligent with asking for consent before he kissed me or initiated any--  activities . It would be so much easier to hate him if he was a beast of a man.

My contemplation of his question only lasts a few seconds before I lean up to kiss him.

Regulus makes a sound of surprise but quickly regains the dominance, his hands cupping my face. 

Slowly, he begins to back us up towards the bed, pulling me onto his lap as he sits down on the white comforter. 

"No," I pull away from the kiss, still straddling his thighs.

Regulus's lips are red as he looks at me confused, "You don't--?"

I shake my head, "I'm starving."

He smiles, tucking a flyaway hair back behind my ear, "We'll find you some food then."

***

(y/n) sips her tea. She hasn't spoken a word to him since he brought her to the wizard cafe.

"How is your food?"

She sets her tea down, "good."

Regulus strums his fingers against the table.

"Did you want something, Regulus?"

"Not particularly. Are you ready to get back?"

"Why are you so eager to get back?" Her smile is small, almost teasing.

"'m not eager..." Regulus frowns, straightening the lapel of his jacket.

"You've hardly touched your food," she looks pointedly towards his plate.

Regulus looks down as well, "I don't find myself quite as famished from our traveling, wife."

(y/n) rolls her eyes at his comment, "For your information, Regulus, I had to skip breakfast to pack for an impromptu trip my husband sprung upon me."

"I could have easily bought you a whole new wardrobe here if breakfast mattered to you that much."

"That would have been a waste--"

He chuckles, "money is not an issue for us, darling. You may have anything you desire simply by asking for it."

(y/n) bites the inside of her cheek, "Just because it is easily obtained does not mean it is not wasteful to live like this."

Regulus bites the inside of his cheek, looking away from (y/n). 

***

Lounging on the bed, he watches her. The chiffon robe she wears leaves little to the imagination as she walks by the open window. Regulus is certain she'd be mortified to find out it's nearly transparent when the morning light hits the fabric. He's enjoying the show, but he hates that anyone outside could see her.

"(y/n)," Regulus stretches his arms above his head.

"Yes?" She turns, the fabric of the robe shifting.

"Come here, please."

She frowns, hands coming to her waist, "why?"

He shifts on the bed, "because you're walking by the window  practically naked."

(y/n) crosses her arms across her chest, "Regulus!"

A small smile tugs at his lips, "Come here, darling."

She slowly makes her way to the bed. Regulus tugs her down to the bed, caging her in with his arms before she can make a noise. (y/n) looks up at him, the robe revealing her beautiful body.

Regulus trails his fingers down her neck towards her breast. Then, rolling her nipple between his fingers, he watches keenly at the way the nub hardened under his touch.

"Reg--"

He cuts her off, "do you want this?"

Her mouth opens and closes before she replies, "yes."

Regulus ducks down, kissing her deeply. He presses his rapidly hardening cock against her thigh.

"Have to be quick," he shoves his sleep pants down enough to free his cock.

"Why? What do we have to do today?"

He chuckles, "nothing that can't be pushed back. Do you want slow then Mistress Black?" Regulus's fingers drag down her jaw, fingers gently angling her face towards his.

(y/n) frowns back, "I--"

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I can make you squirm under me for however long you desire."

Slowly, he pulls the string of her robe loose, the material exposing her torso completely to his gaze.

"Is that what you want, darling?" He spreads her thighs so he can kneel between them.

Her mouth is parted slightly, chest heaving as she watches him drag his cock up and down her slit. 

"Please--"

"Such a good girl." Regulus inches in, entranced by the way her body welcomes him.

(y/n)'s fingers pull at his hair as he bottoms out, "Merlin--!"

"Not my name," he slowly pulls out before thrusting in hard.

(y/n) snorts, "was that a joke? Did you just make a--" he thrusts in again, "a joke?"

Regulus smiles down at his wife, "possibly."

He doesn't expect her to giggle, and he especially does not expect his stomach flip-flopping at the sound of that giggle. To distract himself from this onrush of new emotion, he leans down, kissing her with feverish passion. The softness of her lips, the way her tongue moves shyly in an almost submissive manner with his, and the way she completely surrenders herself to his kiss doesn't help him as the sudden adoration he feels for this woman continues to skyrocket. Love isn't the word. Love maybe would never be the word, but he feels like when they express passion through their sexual encounters, he maybe could be feeling something  like love . 

"Oh, Regulus," (y/n) moves her hips in time with his, the push and pull of their lovemaking intoxicating.

His fingers move to play with her clit, rolling the bundle of nerves and making her squirm underneath him. The way she grinds her hips hard against him with each skilled movement of his hands on her delicate flesh feels magnificent. She's breathtaking, and he can't even find the words to tell her how--  how much he enjoys this. 

Maybe enjoys it more than he's ever enjoyed it before.

"Don't stop," (y/n) whimpers.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he ducks down to kiss her as he pushes her over the edge. The feeling of her pulsing around him propels him towards his own release.

"Merlin--" He continues to thrust shallowly, burrowing his face in her neck. (y/n)'s fingers move tenderly across his back and shoulders as he comes down from his high. Regulus could stay like this forever.

"Are you going to--?" Her voice breaks his small paradise.

He frowns, "yes."

(y/n) stares at him before pushing his shoulders lightly until he pulls out, landing on the other side of the bed. "If you're going to do it, do it now. I want to take a bath."

He has a feeling the bath has something to do with washing away any trace of what they just did. Nevertheless, he does as she asks, wandlessly casting the charm.

***

After ignoring him for the rest of the morning and afternoon, reading on the sunny balcony, she appears to be in a better mood when he comes to get her for dinner. 

"Do you wish to get dinner with me?"

(y/n) softly closes the worn novel before looking up at him. Her face is sweet, lacking any of the anger it held earlier when they quarreled. 

"I would."

Regulus expects her to continue the conversation. Instead, she walks by him without another word. Placing his hands on the balcony's railing, Regulus looks out towards the city. The chaos of the muggles and their  cars  feels an awful lot like the current feeling in his head.

[sumsebien]

by design prologue // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: y/n and friedrich find out who exactly they are betrothed to

word count: 2,6k

warnings: bad parenting

a/n: this is the 5th time i have rewritten this how crazy and has been changed 3 times since i posted that sneak peak :)) i am nuts. also, i am running out of gifs so i am working on a collage i promise

When Friedrich Wilheim Ludwig was born, his father had asked his advisors to draw up a route. Friedrich would study in Prussia, marry a Prussian lady and ascend to the throne as a true son of this great nation, like all of his predecessors.

What he did not plan, however, was that his wife, Frederica had no intention of continuing that tradition. Frederica had other plans for her son. She wanted Friedrich to be the man he wanted to be, not the prince or the king that his father wanted him to be.

She did everything in her power to teach her son just that. Before anything, he was a human being first. Not his title, not the heir, a person.

The King, had he stayed at home for more than a day, would have seen that Friedrich was shaping into a different man than his father had envisioned. He was independent, easygoing and humble.

When the King did realize it, it was too late. It was the summer before Friedrich was to enter a prestigious Prussian university. His aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation for his son to study at Cambridge. The King laughed, there was no way his son wanted to go there. Then the next morning, Friedrich had gotten everything ready to go, he was dead set on Cambridge.

There was nothing more the King could do.

The next thing he knew, his son wanted an English wife. It was a complete disaster. And it was all his incompetent wife’s fault. “Let him live on his own. Get all the reckless impulses out,” she said. Stupid women.

“My love, whatever is bothering you.”

The King looked over to his side, meeting the eyes of his mistress. Sweet Bernadine. She was the only thing he looked forward to all day. “Friedrich. He’s not accepting any of the women he was supposed to marry.”

“And why, may I ask?”

“Because they are not his type. Nice sensible Prussian girls. What is wrong with him? He asked me for a deal. Ridiculous!”

“Maybe you should agree.”

“That is the most absurd thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Is it?”

What the King was going to find out was that Bernadine had a sister who became a Duchess in England. And she had all the gossip sources in the world. She knew absolutely everything about the ins and outs of the ton and she had a beautiful daughter, unwed.

The English girl his son had been eyeing was already in love with someone else. And Friedrich did not seem like the type to force her into a marriage against her will.

If he took his son up on that deal, he’d win.

...

One can count on many things in life. For the ton, it is that grief will not put a stop to Lady Trowbridge’s annual balls. The recently widowed lady’s celebration seemed to be even more flamboyant than when her dear husband was still alive.

And even more scandalous.

Last night, the Incomparable of the season was seen changing her horses in midstream.

To refresh your memory, dear readers, Miss Bridgerton caught the eye of the Duke of Hastings at the beginning of the season. However, for reasons unknown, the Duke was hesitant in asking for her hand, letting Miss Bridgerton slip from his grasp into the hands of a Prince. Our most promising Debutante was then seen exclusively with the Prince of Prussia-the royal suitor of our dreams at balls and promenades for the whole of last week. It would also appear that the Duke had moved on with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence and heiress to their lush family fortunes.

There were talks today that both men might even take their final steps in securing a ring on their ladies’ fingers by the end of the night.

Miss Bridgerton did emerge from the Trowbridge estate engaged. But not to whom we thought she would. It was the Duke of Hastings that captured the heart and hand of the Diamond of the Season. Miss Y/L/N and Prince Friedrich were both left empty-handed.

This Author is seasoned enough to say she is not easily shocked by scandals nowadays. However, that is not to say the events that transpired last night didn’t raise her eyebrows.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

...

“Your Highness. Pst. Your Highness!”

Friedrich sighed, turning over in hopes silence would return to him. He had just fallen asleep finally. It couldn’t possibly be morning already.

“Your Highness.”

The voice grew from a whisper to a normal speaking voice which was too loud for someone who was hoping for silence. He peaked open one eye and closed them again after he recognized the familiar face of his valet, Heinrich.

“Not now. I am sleeping.”

“Your Highness, it’s urgent.”

“It can wait until I wake up.”

There was a pause. “It’s your father, sir.”

Friedrich sighed. “Then it can definitely wait.”

Getting out of this bed would be to accept the truth. He should have known that his father would always get his way. But that was definitely for later. Right now, sleep.

Friedrich waited for the sound of footsteps and the click of the doors so that he could finally get the peace he was aching for. But it never came, which meant: ”Why are you still here, Heinrich?” he mumbled into the pillow.

No answers came.

Friedrich groaned and sat up.

Of course, Heinrich was still there. At the sight of the Prince finally giving in, Heinrich rushed to open the blinds but was stopped by the hand Friedrich raised. “If you want to wake me up and listen to what my father has to say, you’ll leave those curtains alone.”

“Very well, sir,” Heinrich nodded, folding his arms behind his back and cleared his voice. “Your betrothed is Lady Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence. Your father also asked that you confirm a couple of details for your wedding at Sanssouci Palace.”

“I am not getting married at Sanssouci.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Heinrich, I will not look at his smug face when he sees that he has won. I will get married here.”

“But you leave today.”

“Then I will marry before I leave.”

Heinrich had been his valet ever since he moved to England. At first, Friedrich thought Heinrich was spying on him and reporting all of his activities to his father. But after one incident which involved a very drunk Friedrich, a lost key, Friedrich trusted Heinrich with his life. They had even grown to become close friends.

“Very well, sir. I will get the carriages ready.”

Before Heinrich left, he placed a small stack of paper on the desk, telling Friedrich to read it. There were numerous types of documents, all on the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, his betrothed.

Friedrich flipped through as he continued on with his morning routine.

Highborn. Excessively rich. The typical lady of the ton. So far there was nothing that gave Friedrich a reason not to dread his future. Because there was probably nothing. He thought bitterly.

When Friedrich suggested the deal, he didn’t think he’d lose. If Friedrich found himself a wife by the end of the London season, he would get to marry her. If he did not however, his father would have every right to intervene.

How hard could it be to fall in love?

As it turned out, it was not. It was quite simple. He met her, spoke to her and knew. He loved her the moment she laughed ridiculously loudly at his compliment. Her hair, her eyes and of course her laugh which very much alarmed the Queen. She wished to have a large family, like he always wanted as a kid but never got. She was wonderful at conversations. She was perfect...well she would have been perfect, had she been in love with him.

Now, he had lost both the girl and control of his fate. He was now doomed to live the rest of his life with a choice made by his father. Someone who was definitely pretentious, incurious and worshipped titles-everything his father wanted in a wife. Friedrich knew his father would have done anything for his mother to be like that. He felt fortunate that she had never been and never would be one of those things.

Now he could only hope his future children were going to be half as lucky.

...

You were stirred from a dreamless night of sleep by the click of the doors. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sleeping that well these past few days, even the slightest of noises could wake you. You prompted yourself up on your elbows, seeing Olivia-your lady’s maid at the door. She peeked her head in, only coming in when she saw that you were awake.

“Do you have my Whistledown?” was the first thing you asked.

It had become your custom. Your mother wouldn’t let you read the words of that vile woman, lest you learn from the actions of those scandalous ladies. She always acted as though she was above gossip when the entire ton knew the centre of her existence was the scandalous tales told behind the curtains at Madame Delacroix’s fitting room.

Olivia handed you the papers and rushed to your dresser, digging for a dress. “You must be quick. They are asking for you in the drawing room. I told them I was coming to get you.”

You immediately jumped out of bed, knowing your father’s temper all too well. “They’re home again?”

Olivia nodded. “Another cook has been fired. I am scared I might be next.”

That was odd, to say the least. Everything around the house had been a little off lately. Normally, from the moment you woke up until afternoon tea was served, you had all the peace and quiet to yourself. Both of your parents usually left by this time, your father was with his business partners and your mother with Madame Delacroix and her gossip sources. A couple of household staff had also been sacked. It was probably because your father had been even more quick-tempered lately.

Or could the events of last night be the cause?

You knew they were disappointed when you came home without an offer from the Duke of Hastings. But the season hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to consider your other suitors. Besides, it was absolutely no surprise that his heart had belonged to Miss Bridgerton. The dances and the flowers he gave you were nothing more than politeness and perhaps to sooth the jealousy he felt seeing his love with another man. A Prince for that matter.

You got ready quickly, racing down the stairs. At the sound of your footsteps, your mother swung the door open and tugged on your wrist.

“Quickly!” she spat and gave Olivia a glare before closing the door in her face.

Your father sat with his eyes closed, barely breathing. He was completely still, almost statue-like.

“Darling,” your mother chirped, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to send some life into him. He opened his eyes. Dull grey, stern and void of hope or happiness.

You knew this look. It had been the source for all of your childhood terror, the look of disappointment and ominous news.

“Get ready. You’re marrying the Prince of Prussia.”

You choked back a breath, feeling all of your blood draining from your face to your neck. You felt like you were burning but at the same time freezing cold. You couldn’t say anything. Not just because you were speechless. You were not allowed to. The only thing you could do was nod, say ‘yes, sir’ and do exactly as you were told.

You were their only daughter.

Throughout your childhood, your father made no attempts to hide his disappointment in you. And your mother was always too afraid to ever do anything. She couldn’t give him another child so they had to learn to tolerate you. They would rarely take you with them anywhere. It was as though you had never existed. You’d always feel proud after finishing a piano piece or after a painting was fully colored but they never cared. For a long time you thought that all parents acted this way, that it was normal. It wasn’t. Other parents took their children to the park, bought them puppies when they succeeded. For you, it was your job and you got no pay, no praise. Nothing. Ever.

You accepted that because there was no other way. And at some point along the way, you stopped looking for their approval. It didn’t mean that they stopped having control over you though. If you wanted a peaceful life, you had better obeyed.

...

Friedrich pulled on his gloves as they made their way quickly into the abbey.

He hated being late and he was late. They were running behind schedule too. Had Friedrich not squeezed a last minute wedding ceremony, he would have already left for Prussia by now.

Needless to say, there was no time for a traditional ceremony. They were getting in and out of the abbey in half an hour or else they would have to wait until tomorrow for another ship.

At the end of the aisle, Friedrich was greeted by his father’s old friend and his future father-in-law, the Duke of Clarence. The man was the picture of a typical aristocratic Englishman with his hair styled neatly, a cane in his hand. Next to him was the Duchess of Clarence, a lanky woman with hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. There was an air of intimidation about them. Friedrich did not know enough to be afraid of them, though, he could imagine most of the ton were.

“Welcome, your Highness. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed his head. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you at Sanssouci Palace.”

Friedrich only smiled. He did not remember ever meeting the man at all but did not mean to be impolite.

The Duchess spoke in a sweet voice, extending her arm towards the door. “Well, come, Y/N! We shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting for long.”

Friedrich felt his throat closing as his heart picked up its pace. It wasn’t the good kind of nervous butterflies one got from being near their beloved, it was anxious anticipation for his fate to be revealed.

From behind the archway came a beautiful young lady. He recognized you. You had briefly met before at the Salisbury ball before but never engaged in a dance.

“My Lady.” Friedrich bowed his head.

You were a little distracted, as if you did not hear him at all. He smiled, about to greet you again when the most bizzare thing happened.

Your father cleared his voice and flicked his cane against the skirt of your dress. That snapped you right out of your daze, your eyes lowered immediately as you bent your legs into a curtsy like a well-oiled machine. “Your Highness.”

Friedrich could not believe his eyes.

He turned to Heinrich to find his friend’s eyebrows tipped inwards. So it wasn’t just him who saw the strange way your father treated you. Like some kind of circus animal.

Friedrich nodded to you but kept a close eye on your father. The man smiled when he caught Friedrich staring. But there was something eerie about it. His mouth stretched into a smile but his eyes stayed stern.

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[alreadyblondenow]

When December comes | Hendery

✦ Hendery x reader x Lucas ✦ Fluff, Smut, Angst, Royalty AU, Nutcracker AU ✦ 3/5 for HOLIDAY SERIES: Once Upon A December

Summary: As an adopted legitimate princess and future queen of two kingdoms, you grew up proving yourself that you deserve the role that has given to you. Nothing is simple about being an adopted princess but being arranged to marry Prince Hendery turned your life upside down.He left you, eventually. And by the time he came back to your life, you have a loving boyfriend, and Prince Hendery…. is arranged to be married to your sister now.  

Word count: 8,690k

Warnings: adopted reader (if thats triggering at any point, please click away) A lot of smut, unprotected sex, mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of other idols, fingering, mentions of rough sex, heavy cheating, major character death

A/N: PURE FICTION. This is a love triangle fic but not much focused to Lucas, more on Hendery. Inspired by a bunch of royalty movies, especially princess diaries, Nutcracker (ballet), inspired by the song Satisfied from Hamilton. Love writing for Hendery so much. Check my recent post for Hendery’s thirst photos whahaha, as per Lucas character here idk I always see him as sweet and lovable and he always knows what to do. The guy has serious good leadership skills if you haven’t’ notice and i think its sexy. I’m glad this didnt reach to 10k bc u know me i hate my works being long af haha enjoy reading mwa!

For @jeongyoonohs​ sorry it took me so long to finish this :( But this is for you! 

OPENING

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not so far away, ruled by a king and queen who can’t have a baby no matter how many times they’ve tried. The sad news spread all over the kingdom and caused chaos everywhere mainly because they were scared for the fall of their beloved kingdom.

But the king is wise. He made an alliance with the kingdom of his truest friend and together they helped each other’s kingdom by making an agreement. “I can’t have a child, but my queen and I have decided to adopt a baby girl,” the king says to his fellow king.

“And my wife is carrying a baby boy”

“It’s settled then. My adopted daughter will be arranged with your son, and someday be married to each other” They shook hands and made the agreement official by sealing it with their signatures and royal seals in front of their queens.

The kingdom that lost their trust with their king is now calmed relieved after hearing the great news of the two kingdoms having an alliance. And to fully earned their trust again, they searched far and wide for a baby girl that will soon be the future of their kingdom.

“And that baby girl is you my darling” your grandfather finishes his bedtime story to you. Caging you in his strong arms, cradling you like you’re truly related by blood. “Grow up as a fine woman and save this kingdom” he added. You embraced your grandfather back and smiled so sweetly at him, tracing his handsome features… then you remembered.

“Tell me the story about the Nutcracker prince,” you singsong to him. He doesn’t tell you the original story, but instead, he always tells you his version and it’s always better. His embrace became tighter, then he looked at his expensive watch to check how many minutes does he have left.

“Okay. I only have a few minutes left, princess” He started by introducing the Nutcracker prince to you which is actually magical because even though you’ve heard of this so many times it never gets old and you’re always excited to hear it again.

He described the prince as a soldier like him, but a younger version he says with a giggle. And that Nutcracker slash prince slash soldier is made specifically for you so that one day, the two of you can rule two kingdoms all at once. “Why do I need a prince?” you pout, and your grandfather is startled by your question.

“Well, jeez, I don’t know. I’m sure you can still be a fine queen without a prince, right?” he says while tucking you in and preparing you for bed. “But let’s just say that princesses like you need a proper man like the Nutcracker because… grandfather will not always be by your side” of course he can’t mention death to you, no, you’re too young to know about these things. So he kissed you goodnight on your forehead and promise to see you early in the morning again.

Growing up as an adopted princess was never easy because the eyes of a judging kingdom have always been against you and your family. That’s why as you grow up, you swore to yourself that you will prove them wrong and that you are the future of this kingdom. At a very young age, you made your parents proud of your gift of leadership and continue to make them proud by doing great in school.

Until one day, the queen finally got pregnant.

The kingdom became so busy about the queen’s pregnancy and literally, every person is excited about your baby sister. You were only nine years old and you were innocent as you can be so you don’t know that the attention is slowly shifting to your baby sister. You didn’t mind of course, again, you were just a kid. But as you grew older and older you can finally foresee a life behind the shadow of your baby sister. The real princess. It’s like she took everything from you… but whenever you remember that you’re adopted, it seems like she’s just taking what’s originally hers in the first place.  

Today is your thirteenth birthday and you celebrated it with your grandfather in an amusement park. He is the only person left in your life who can see you as a rare gem and you’re thankful for him. As you walked around the busy park, with a few bodyguards on your sides, you and your grandfather laugh and laugh while you’re eating hotdogs on a stick.

“Your father told me that you refused to have a ball for your thirteenth birthday? Why?” he asked while enjoying his food.

“I’m not a real princess grandfather, I don’t deserve a ball. And besides, riding that scary rollercoaster is better than dancing with a bunch of princes whom I don’t know in the first place, and playing dress-up the whole night”

“Hmm. Don’t you say that you’re not a real princess, there was a Y/n before your baby sister. And the kingdom is still looking forward with you ruling us someday because you’re older than your sister and you’re still a legi-“

“timate daughter, I know, I understand grandfather thank you for reminding me” you wiped the ketchup on his lips and smiled at him, “What will I do without you? I hope that my Nutcracker prince is exactly like you. Wise and strong”

“Don’t worry about that darling, you’re still young, and I’m still here” he giggles and walks you towards that scary rollercoaster ride.

ACT 1

Things slowly change around the castle and you learned to distant yourself from your parents but not forgetting your duty as a first born and legitimate adopted daughter of the king and queen. And as you enter royal high school, you thought that your life will get uglier but no. Surprisingly, school made you feel alive and less of a princess and more like a future leader.

But most importantly, you finally met your Nutcracker. Prince Hendery.

Usually, prince and princesses meet for the first time during a royal ball, soiree, or a simple lunch at the palace’s garden grounds. But you and Prince Hendery, met in the school hallway for the first first time. It is as if your whole world slowed down, every student walked in slow motion while you and Hendery locked eyes on each other. And the best part is, he did not know that you’re the princess who’s meant to be forever with him.

At first, you don’t talk to each other and just simply exchange smiles and glances from time to time whenever you cross paths in the hallway, eating at the cafeteria, or ‘reading’ at the library. You thought it wasn’t fair that you know everything about him but he doesn’t even know what you look like.

“You know I’ve been flirting with this princess for months already, do you know her name?” Hendery whispers at his fellow prince, Xiaojun, and told him to take a look at where you’re seated. Xiaojun then scoffed at his friend and playfully slapped Hendery’s face knowing that he is completely clueless about who you are.

“I don’t know if you’re always going to be this dumb, you’re going to be a king someday. Anyway, that princess is Y/n. The Y/n” and that is all it takes to make Hendery realize that he has been flirting with his soulmate for weeks now.

From there on the prince has become bold with his gestures. Sitting with you during breaks, even flirting with you in front of your friends and his friends. Prince Hendery has the most beautiful smile you have ever seen, hair is black and soft and you bet it smells good either, he was tall but just right for your height. Not only he was perfectly handsome, but he is a gentleman too. In other words, everything about him screams prince charming.  

You and prince Hendery were the talk of royal school. Everyone knew about your arrangement and the alliance of your kingdoms. You even hear people talk on the hallways that you’re literally made for each other that’s why everyone envied you.

“Let’s grow up first, okay?” Hendery says, giving you a single rose during your school’s Valentine event. A simple gesture that says there's no need to rush on being in a relationship and make everything official between the two of you but also, it was a subtle move to show everyone that you already belong to each other so there should be no competition.

You fell in love with each other from a distance, not rushing through love, taking your time, and enjoying your youth because you have a lifetime together. Although, Hendery likes reminding everyone that you’re his in the most subtle way, may it be hugging you in public, kissing your cheek before you go home, and smiling your way whenever he sees you around the school.

From freshman year until your senior year, you and Hendery waited until you’re both legal of age to finally make it official. The news was all over the TV, tabloids, articles, and magazines that you’re in love with each other. It was a cute high school sweethearts story and every day was perfect.

Senior year just started and you and Hendery decided to study together but the planned study session became a make out session, giggling and cuddling in his bed while still wearing your uniforms. The prince was looking at you, admiring your pretty face touching your features softly then suddenly he noticed that he can almost see your breast. He looked away, of course. And covered his head with one of his pillows as he groans in frustration.

“What? Why?” you asked, completely clueless. He didn’t answer you, instead, he covers your exposed skin with a small pillow. “Oh shit, I’m sorry” you apologized immediately and became shy like him too.

“It’s okay. If I’m being honest I wanted to touch you but, I knew better than that. Can we promise to be each other’s first and last?”

“You mean sex?”

“Exactly, sex”

“Only if we seal it with a kiss,” you bite back in a flirty tone, looking at his pink lips that are slowly coming closer to you. When your lips touched, you returned the kiss and swing your arms around his neck, situating him accidentally in between your legs. Skirt lifted and all. Your bodies are becoming warm in an instant and you both know you need to stop before you make wrong decisions.

“How's that for a promise? Let’s get married when we grow older and have sex every day” he bit the shell of your ear, making you giggle and laugh with him. Being this horny with each other is normal, you thought. You are both young and full of passion, and it amazes you how Hendery wanted to wait until you get married and be kings and queens.

Senior year is perfect. Every day.

Until one day, Hendery’s father died and he stopped coming to school. You hear different kinds of gossip every day. 'Is he a king now? That's why he's not coming to school?', 'School is boring for king Hendery now', 'Are they gonna be married soon?', 'Are they even ready to rule yet?'. Again, you were the talk of the nation. The headline ‘Prince Hendery left Princess Y/n’ was everywhere and you can't do anything about it. You weren’t hurt that he left everything, you were more worried because maybe he’s all alone and grieving. You wanted to ask his family but you respect their privacy.

“So he just left?” you told your grandfather everything. He just came back from his cruise around the world and you’re happy to see his visible tan lines, for sure he had a great time.

“Yep, just like that grandfather,” you walk shoulder to shoulder around the palace’s garden, looking at the flowers and harvesting some fruits.

“Well, I’m sure he had his reasons. Just stretch your patience my darling, you know what they say, love is patience” he pats your hand before picking a lemon. “Enough about the prince, I heard you are making quite an impression now. The king is beyond impressed” he was talking about your win, elected student body president. Apparently, it’s a big deal for your father, because, during his stay in royal school, he was elected as president too.

“I didn’t try too much, I think I won because of my popularity and not because of my leadership skills” you once again doubted yourself but of course, your grandfather is here to straighten you up.

“Show them you’re both. Popular and a great leader”

It was always a good talk with your grandfather, but whenever you remember that Hendery is not with you anymore it automatically makes you sad. You missed him. So much.  

ACT 2

But even though you missed Hendery and it’s like he took a part of your heart and brought it with him, life goes on. You faced Senior year and showed everyone your perfect smiles like nothing is bothering you. But at night, when you’re all alone, you just can’t help but look at your pictures with Hendery on your phone and miss him.

Life goes on.

With or without your prince.

You studied day and night, kept your eyes on the prize, and busy yourself until your heart is finally healed. You waited for him of course, you waited long and hard but you can’t wait forever.

As you continue to know yourself, get involved with a lot of organizations in college, your journey has become even more thrilling when you met Lucas. He’s not royalty nor does he came from a rich family, he’s “just a man who’s brave enough to ask a princess on a date” his exact words.

Lucas is a whole new adventure to you. He’s the epitome of new things and new experiences. But your favorite thing about Lucas is, he can make you forget that you’re a princess even just for a few hours. He made you happy every day because he never forgets to tell you that being happy is the most important thing in this world. He loves you with every part of his being. And he’s ready to face your world and be with you in every step until you become queen.

“N-no I don’t want to be king. I can be your butler and still love you for all I care” he covers your naked body while you both come down from your highs. Tonight is one of those nights that you can be with Lucas without having your bodyguard. He was praising you during sex, calling you ‘princess’ or ‘my queen’ whenever he thrust and pushes you on the edge, so you asked him a stupid question if he wants to be king. “I just want to be with you, people may see me as a gold digger once the news that you have a commoner boyfriend comes out, but we both know that’s not true right?”

“Of course, not” you embraced him and apologized for the question, hiding your face on his chest. You feel his big hands caress your back to comfort you and soon plant kisses on your temple. He’s always sweet and gentle like this. If only people would see the kind of person Lucas truly is.

“But what if he comes back? What will happen to us?” he was talking about Hendery. When Lucas knew that you’re arranged to be married to Hendery, he didn’t take it lightly. He was mad but not to you. You didn’t talk for weeks and you’re both heartbroken, but Lucas realized that it's better to love you fiercely now than waste his time worrying about the future.

“I will talk to my father, don’t worry about that. Wong Yukhei don’t you trust me?” you kissed his chest to put him back in the mood and change the subject. Of course, he can’t say no to you.  

After getting your degree in college, you started working for the king and queen, spearheading foundations, and knowing the kingdoms that you’re going to rule someday. Remember when you thought your parents will forget about your existence because they had your sister? Well, that didn’t happen. Your parents were proud of everything you’ve achieved and they wanted your sister to follow in your footsteps.

Slowly, you proved to them that you don’t need a king to rule this kingdom. Introducing Lucas to your parents did not go well at first but eventually, they saw that you and Lucas are happy with each other despite having different worlds.

Still, they want to keep your relationship hidden.

It’s Christmas Eve and you’re all dressed up right now, ready to shake a lot of hands and dance with a bunch of princes and dukes and god know what else but you can’t help but take care of a few things before you enjoy this night. You were signing some last minutes contracts and reading proposals when you heard a soft knock from your door, “S-sorry. Come in” you see your boyfriend dressed up in a tux, looking so handsome. He smiled at you before he enters and closed the door behind him, “well you look dashing” you put your pen down and crossed your arms.

“I’m here to pick you up your majesty, the guests are waiting downstairs and your grandfather-“

“Oh he’s here! Perfect!” you exclaimed and express your excitement upon hearing that your grandfather is here. You haven’t seen him for a very long time and you have lots of stories to tell him. “Oh shit- by the way. Lucas, uhm… Can you zip my dress, I forgot I unzip it because it was uncomfortable. Stupid ball gowns” you said, turning your back to Lucas and waiting for him to take care of your zipper. But before he zips you up, he kisses your exposed shoulders and massaged them.

“Don’t forget to have fun tonight okay? I’ll be watching you like a hawk the whole night- well actually, not you. The men that will dance with you tonight” Because Lucas has no rank or title, he can’t earn a dance with you because it’s against the conditions that your father gave.

“All done your majesty,” he says and stepped back to open the door for you.

Every Christmas Eve, throwing an extravagant ball has been your family’s tradition for centuries. It is known by royalties across the globe and this fancy Christmas party is actually part of your kingdom’s history. Different respective kings, beautiful queens, annoying princes and princesses, dukes and duchess are invited and all are here not only to have fun but also here to talk business with you.

The night goes on, dancing with a few guests before you meet and spend some time with your grandfather. You wanted to whine and complain to your assistant but she’s just doing her job so you shrugged it off. “How many more left?” you asked while waiting for the next Prince to ask to dance, “two more your majesty. Your grandfather is next after this” you smiled and thanked her, giving a bow to the next prince who’s about to dance with you. And the moment you lift your head to meet his eyes, you thought you were dreaming.

For a moment you forgot proper princess etiquette and gave Hendery a tight hug, shocking everyone at your behavior but they’re even more shocked about Hendery’s appearance. ‘The son of the dead king has finally shown himself’ you hear everyone murmur around you but you don’t care. You smiled so big seeing that handsome face again. He kissed your hand and asked you to dance which you accepted gladly, now that Hendery is back and you’re all dressed up wearing your tiara, you feel like a real princess finally meeting his prince in a storybook.

“Where have you been?” you whispered to him.

“I’m sorry I left you like that, I was devastated” he whispers back as you two dance in the middle of the ballroom with the other royalties, trying so hard to hide the excitement. While you were dancing with Hendery, you remember that handsome smile that made your knees weak, his sweet gestures to prove his feelings for you, and your promises to each other.

Is it really true that first love never dies or your love for Hendery was just too strong that it never died?

When Hendery was about to hand you over to your grandfather, your father and mother came out of nowhere with your younger sister on their side. Is it because they’re happy to see Hendery too? Or are they going to press you regarding the arranged marriage again? You cling to your grandfather as you get nervous but careful not to show it. “Ah! Hendery welcome back! How was your time in the army, good?” your father exclaims. So all this time he knew where Hendery is.

“I had a hard time your highness, but I made it back in one piece” Hendery answered and made a small joke that made you all giggle and let out a small laugh. Oh you missed him.

“Hendery, I want you to meet Y/n’s younger sister” you watch him kiss your sister’s hand, “and also your future bride to be”

You were completely taken aback by what you just heard and the words that came into your head were, ‘I thought you were mine’ but you didn’t speak your mind and listened further to what your father is saying. But as you listen more, you feel like your dress was becoming tighter and tighter in every second that you can’t breathe anymore. “She will be your queen in your kingdom, and Y/n will be an independent queen here” your father explained proudly.

“But she’s too young” you pointed at your sister but you see how your sister’s eyes are sparkling. Too late. You thought. You watch her be charmed by Hendery’s visuals, that damn smile captured your sister’s heart in an instant.

“Hendery can wait until his bride is in the right age to be married, right son?”

“Of course your highness, it’s my duty” he answered confidently.

After the unexpected talk, you excused yourself, went to your room, and breathed outside on your balcony. You can’t forget your sister’s face as she looks at the man you used to kiss and you used to love. She has no idea what controversy she will face in the future, she is so young and blinded by infatuation…Or maybe you’re being like this because you’re jealous.

“Believe me I’m just as shock as you are”

A familiar voice made your heart race and your body stiffen in no time. You turned around secretly hoped that you’re wrong, but you will never forget his voice and also how his mere presence makes your heart excited. “How did you get in here?”

You hear him scoff and stood behind you, “We used to make out a lot in your room-and mine too of course. I still remember the way to your room by heart” he looked up the stars to stop himself from looking at you. You looked so beautiful tonight that he can’t stop blushing and admiring you.

You were silent. Mainly because you don’t know what to say and you’re not sure what to feel either.

“It’s going to be fine” with all his courage he tried hugging you like how he used to when you were only teenagers. But you pushed him away and stepped away from him. Hendery felt a slight pang in his heart, he never thought that you could do that to him.

“Were not together now don’t you get it? You were gone for years Hendery, a lot has changed”

“You’re hurting me, this is not our fault we love each other what's wrong with that” he reasons out, trying to lower his voice because someone might hear him.

“Loved. Past tense. My sister likes you and you are arranged to be married to her Hendery” you close your eyes as you remember what happened again earlier.  

“If I have known that life will take you away from me, I shouldn’t have wasted my time and showered you with love and affection when we were young”

With a heavy heart, your first love left you in the cold night with a confused mind.

ACT 3

To make it up with your grandfather, you spend Christmas morning with him while drinking tea by the palace garden and telling him numerous stories about Lucas…and also your talk about Hendery last night.

“Don’t do something stupid that your future self with regret” he says, stirring his coffee and chewing his bread with jam. He was talking about cheating, he didn’t tell you exactly but you get it. “Did you tell your boyfriend already about what you felt upon hearing your sister’s engagement?” You shook your head and see your grandfather get disappointed but he understands that everything that’s happening now is not easy for you.

“He’s away, for now, left first thing in the morning to go to Hong Kong for his family” you felt hopeless again.

“Oh everything will be fine. I’m sure he will understand, that man is wise. I’m rooting for him” he says like Lucas is his son.

“What- really not Hendery?” you let out a laugh because your grandfather is cute.

“Nope. Now, don’t ask me why. Figure it out yourself” he winks and continues to eat his breakfast.

As days go by without Lucas, you and Hendery continue to meet each other accidentally whenever he visits your sister. You’re a busy woman, but your mind seems to have time to think whether they kissed already, hold hands, or admitted their feelings to each other if there's any.

You saw flowers on your way to your office and you thought that maybe it's for your sister, from Hendery and you can’t help but to get envious and jealous. He used to give you flowers back when you were in high school and now… he’s doing it to your sister too.

While you were reviewing proposals, you got a phone call from your personal phone and it's Lucas which you’re very excited to answer. “Hey” you singsong, putting the phone between your ear and neck while you continue to scan through papers.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, everything okay back there?”

No. You wanted to tell him that you’ve been having these weird feelings towards Hendery. “No, baby. Everything’s fine, I’m working now… As usual- how's everyone there?”

“They miss you. They wanted you to visit next year” he says, breathing deeply before he continues. “Listen, I want to stay here for a little longer. I miss them too you know-“

“And it’s fine! Baby, I understand. You’ve done so much for me already, go and be with your family” you felt guilty for caging Lucas in your country. Even though he’s the one who wanted to stay here, still. You can feel that he’s homesick sometimes.

After working in your office, you went straight to your room and purposely skipped dinner because you knew that Hendery is still here. When you opened your door, the same flowers that you thought Hendery gave to your sister is sitting on your coffee table with a small envelope that has your name on it.

Dear Y/n,

Back when we were in high school, I gave you a single rose for Valentine's day and I told you, “Let’s grow up first”

Now that we're all grown up, and still obviously madly in love with each other, I will not hold myself back from loving you. Not anymore.

I’m sorry for leaving, please give me a chance and meet me at the back of the palace at midnight. I’ll be waiting.

H.

Bold of him to think that you’re still madly in love with him. How can he say that?

You look at the letter as you grow weak and let yourself flop on your couch, face first and still undecided if you’re going. Frustrated and guilty, that’s what you’re feeling ring now. Frustrated because you don’t know what to follow, your heart or your mind. Guilty because your heart says you should go.

At the end of the day, you find yourself walking in the dark on your way to the back of the castle to meet Hendery. Hugging yourself as you cling more in your thin cardigan, trying to keep yourself warm as you feel your heartbeat faster by every second you come closer to the meeting spot. You see Hendery at the back of a thick tree, face illuminated because of his phone screen. “Oh you’re here. Sorry I was about to ring your phone” he admitted.

“Why am I here? What do you want?” You asked in the softest way possible. He saw that you’re shivering and invited you to go around the tree. There you see a blanket and small pillows and the lake was perfectly lit by the moon. What a beautiful view. And while you were admiring the view, you feel him place his jacket around you and motions you to sit on the ground with him.

“Please for once let’s pretend I didn’t leave you. I didn’t want my father to die, I didn’t expect our kingdom to suffer. And you’re the only good thing that’s left to me. So please”

You looked at him for a second that soon turned into minutes. You bit your lower lip and you remember that you weren’t mad at him for leaving, so why are you mad at him now?

Slowly, you accepted the warmth that he offered and sat close to him, sharing the blanket and keeping you close. “You’re here to hear me apologize sincerely” he gulps before he starts talking and explaining why he left, looking into your eyes so you know he’s telling you the truth. He told you that his father’s last will is for him to join the army and to be a soldier because in his father’s eyes he’s not yet ready to be a young king so he didn’t have a choice but to leave.

You were heartbroken while hearing his part. “I was never mad at you for leaving. I was worried about you”

He smiled sweetly at you. The kind of smile that makes your body warm and heart flutter, he pulled you close and you let him. “I know. Mother told me you were looking for me, but she can’t tell you anything. I told her I’m the one who should tell you someday. I’m sorry” he embraced you tightly, his cheeks resting on your shoulders. And right then and there everything is clear to you. You still have feelings for him.

“What are we gonna do now? My sister, Lucas” you asked him as you rake away strands of hair from his face.

“I’m not in love with your sister” he admitted without hesitation.

“But I love Lucas” there’s that guilty feeling again. You feel your heart breaking for Lucas, he doesn’t deserve being cheated on like this.

“I thought you were mine” he whispers. And even if it's a whisper the hurt was obvious from the sound of his voice. He didn’t see it coming. He didn’t think that this will be more complicated than he imagined.

“Funny. I thought the same thing when my father told us you're enggaged to my sister” you admitted and scoffed.

“Give me a chance to win you back. And if you're not coming back to me, just let me be with you for a little longer. I beg you”

There was a moment of silence and Hendery understands that you needed that silence to think, “Okay” you said. And saying ‘okay’ never felt so wrong. You cupped his face and tried to turn this moment around, “what's it like to be away from home?”

“Sad. I think of you every day and of course my family but they get to see me but you... not even a picture just our memories in my head”

Now that Hendery is a prince slash soldier, you remember the Nutcracker story your grandfather used to tell you for bedtime. That’s when you realized that you and Hendery are truly made for each other.

But you have Lucas...

As your night with Hendery continues and makes up for lost time, the emotional reunion turned to giggles and laughs when your time together has ended. He invited you over to his own house for a date since he can’t take you out like he used to, and reminded you that you gave him a chance to win you back, and thanked you.

On the next day, your mind was blanked. You can’t believe that you’re cheating on Lucas and have been refusing to answer his calls.

Days went on like this until you’re not awkward with Hendery anymore and you’re comfortable again around him. He showered you with love, you accept it wholeheartedly. Every day was sweet with Hendery even though you’re both aware of the future consequences but no one seems to care for now.

You go to his place and spend time with each other, whether talking the whole night and telling each other stories, him making you giggle and laugh with your legs on top of his thighs while you both sit on his couch enjoying a glass of wine or whenever you’re busy reading something or you brought a little work at his place and he can easily take your stress away by making you laugh.

Today, you came early and decided to cook for him and have dinner together. You don’t know but Hendery is leaning on the door frame of his kitchen with a flower in his hand, watching you chop some peppers in his kitchen. He felt like he finally won you back. Just seeing you hum while you prepare dinner makes his heart so happy. He then walked slowly and hugged you from behind, resting chin at the top of your shoulders, and showed you the flowers he has for you.

You smiled so big, dropping the knife on the chopping board and turning around to give him a kiss.

That’s your first kiss again.

He was shocked but you did it again. You realized he was trying so hard that he’s slowly being successful in winning you back and you’re actually scared of the future but he makes you happy.

“What? It’s not like we haven’t kissed before” you touched his lips and felt his embrace tightens every second. “Dinner in 30 minutes” you smiled and went back to finish chopping the peppers and finding a nice vase for the flowers he gave.

After dinner, a few glasses of wine, cheese, and grapes, you and Hendery are buzzed and talking about work as prince and princesses while enjoying the view from his couch. The lights are turned down low and you didn’t even notice at first but the mood has been making you horny even though your topic was stressful and your minds are clouded with alcohol. You don’t know what came into your head but you sat on his lap with lidded eyes, touching his body feeling his hard rocked abs through his white dress shirt.

He giggles and laughed at you. He’s so fucking handsome when he does that. “Seriously you have to stop you will embarrass yourself in the next morning,” he told you to stop but he fixed the way he sits and made sure you were comfortable on top of him. He teased you more, smiling so handsomely and making your heart flutter.

“I'm not that drunk just buzzed. Want me to prove it?” You challenged with a flirty tone that turns him on.

“Mhmm. Okay,” he tilts his head and waited for this proof you were saying.

“I still remember how we sealed our promises with a kiss. Like that day when we promised to be each other’s first and last” your fingers went up to his hair, ruffling his soft black hair and massaging his scalp.

You don’t know what happened but the mood changes and he’s avoiding your eyes. ”I’m sorry,” he says.

“No no don’t be, you’re here now make it up to me” you kissed his neck while he gets drunk even more because of your kisses. Your hands are placed on his neck like you’re telling him you still belong to each other, rolling your hips slowly to make him horny as much as you are.

“Did you have sex with anyone already?” his question made you stop what you’re doing to him and pulling away from the kiss to look at him, you thought he didn’t like what’s happening. But to your surprise his lips went to your neck, kissing you softly but full of lust. You feel his warm tongue just below your jaw and it felt great.

“Lucas, how about you?” You moaned out, shamefully.

Usually, his heart will hurt whenever you mention Lucas, but he’s the one kissing you now. So instead of getting hurt, he smirked. “A couple of girls. Life can be stressful I need an adult stress release. Any kinks?”

“Not that I know of? You?”

He stopped and looked at you to tell you the story. “Well remember when we were making out and I accidentally saw your breasts?” you nod at him, “I think I developed some kind of breast kink and I always imagine that I’m having sex with you instead of a stranger” he admitted and looked at you clothed breast right now. “That's how much I miss you” he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and went back to leaning comfortably on the couch. He got shy but he can’t stop looking at you.

To be honest your heart swells knowing that he desperately wants you like that. As quickly as you can, you untuck your blouse and removed it in front of the prince. “You can experience the real thing tonight “ you intertwine your hand with his and slowly placed it on your breast.

Breathing heavily. Both of you. You’re like teenagers who are just about to have sex for the first time.

He sat up to meet your lips and kiss you the way you deserved to be kissed, slowly you feel his hand travel to your back to unclasp your bra. You removed and fed his lust, revealing your breast to him for the first time. Hendery was so nervous that his hands are shaking when he removed strands of hair away from your face and held you on your shoulders, slowly he lowered your body on his and started kissing your collar bones and chest before he proceeds to your breast.

It was quiet and all he can hear is your moans and the sound of his wet kisses. You wanted to tell him that his lips feel great against your skin, and simply tell him to fuck you already. When his mouth finally reached your hard nipples and bit them softly, you parted your lips and your arms swings around him and push his head to your breast even more. You noticed he knows how to use his tongue, you figured he has been doing this to someone else for years and years while the whole truth is he always wanted to do it to you. The way he flicked his tongue brings you back to reality and when he sucks your nipples good your grip on his hair tightens and when that happens he bites your nipples again to make you shiver. This man is good.  

He placed his hands just below your boob area to hold you still while he does whatever he wants to your breast. Sucking, pinching, bitting, and kneading. Everything felt good and your moans are good proof. With his strength, he got up from the couch and carried you to his room while you kiss with lust. He lay you down on his king-sized bed and kissed your body down while unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down until you’re only wearing your panties. Hendery then unbuttoned his dress shirt in between your spread legs, kneeling in front of you, stripping until he’s only wearing his boxers briefs. He situates his body on top of you grinding on your clothed private parts, hands all over each other’s body. He then went back to kissing your nipples and sucking them but little did you know Hendery is just distracting you while his hands are slowly coming down inside your panties.

With a great shock, you closed your eyes and parted your lips as you feel Hendery’s cold fingers slide up and down on your wet slit while his mouth is still sucking your nipples. It was a whirlwind of feelings, everything felt good, and seeing Hendery enjoy turns you on too. By the time you had your first orgasm, shaking and body so sensitive with swollen nipples, Hendery was kissing you softly and asking you in the most innocent way if you’re okay. The sound of his giggles makes you calm, the way he whispers soft praises beside your ear while his hands roam freely around your body. Truth is he’s genuinely happy right at this moment because he doesn’t need to imagine anymore.

He went back to kissing your body down until he reaches your wet core and licks it up and down for a while before he lines his cock. In between your widely spread legs, you watch Hendery lick you good and feel him moan from time to time. “Hendery” you called him, kneeling in between your legs in an instant, flashing his beautiful body to you. His skin is flawless, strong arms, perfect abs, and of course, fucking beautiful smile. Everything about him makes you weak right now that you just opened your legs, reach for hard cock, and line it to your entrance yourself. “Woah” he giggled and stopped you, “Okay calm down, I’ll fuck you good I promise” he pumped his cock in front of you and lines it immediately just how you want it and slowly enters you. He wasn’t big like Lucas but he kept his promise, he fucked you good.

So good that you asked for more as you grip his Egyptian cotton sheets and let your body be dragged with every hard thrust he give you.

So good that you asked him to go slower because you don’t want it to end yet.

So good that you asked him to cum inside you and asked for another round.

On your third orgasm, your hole is dripping with mixes of your cum and Hendery’s while the handsome prince is kissing your neck as you come down from your high. “I love you” he whispers but he was too late, you were sleeping soundly already, arms wrapped around his neck. He smiled and kissed you one last time before he pulls out and cleans you up.

He didn’t sleep that night, he just watched you sleep beside him. Let you cling to him in the middle of the night, watch you roll in his bed and expose your body, but of course, he’s quick to cover you again. And when the time comes, he wakes you with kisses on your shoulders, embracing you tightly and kissing you more.

“Wake up” you hear him whisper and you try to open your eyes the moment he told you so. You see his window, it was still dark so you closed your eyes again. “Want to watch the sunrise with me? You’re going to love it” he went down from his bed and opened his curtains so you can have a full view of the sky while you enjoy your comfort in his bed. You sat up and waited for him to join you again and stay warm together. Slowly, you see how the sky became pitch black to deep blue to light blue until you can see the pretty view outside his house. It was calming. He was holding your hand the whole time.

After watching the sunrise with him he fell asleep while holding your hand and you think he’s cute for having a tight grip even though he’s sleeping. While he was sleeping, it’s now your turn to admire his handsome features and watch him sleep before you start your day and make breakfast.

You hate to admit it but it looks like he has completely won you over.

“You look good in my dress shirt” he greets you good morning and kissed you on your temple while you set the table. You feel his hands in your hips, slowly coming down to your butt, and realized that you’re only wearing his dress shirt and thin panties. He still can’t believe that this is all happening, “are you real?” He whispers.

“Yes. Now come on, I have a meeting with the parliament. Need to go home and get ready” you eat some fruits as you scan your schedule for the day and there you see it and completely missed it.

Lucas went home last night. And you left your personal phone in your car. Fuck you said to yourself but didn’t show it to Hendery.

Leaving this morning became harder than you expected and you spent a total of 20 minutes kissing and flirting with Hendery before you finally open the door.

You went on with your day and made an excuse to Lucas as to why you didn’t pick him up at the airport last night. You were at your office with stacks and stacks of paper works and you weren’t even acting stressed when he came in because you were indeed stressed with everything.

“Oh baby, I’m really sorry” you greet him with a kiss and left everything on your desk. Lucas saw how stressed you are so he understood immediately and didn’t even bother asking. “You’re coming home to me tonight right? I missed you” he added and pouted like the big baby that he is.

“Uh-huh. Of course yes, I’m all yours” you smiled and he hugged you so tight before he leaves you to work again.

“Of course. You’re always mine” he said and kissed you goodbye.

The nights are cold for Hendery when Lucas got back because he can’t get a hold of you. No text, no call, no email. No nothing. And once again, he was heartbroken and he felt like he’s losing you again.

When he visited your sister a week since the last time he saw you, Hendery saw you with Lucas and didn’t even think of taking another glance. He had all these emotions ball up in his chest and he needed to release them.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were visiting today” your sister was surprised and invited him into her room. When she turned your back at him, he saw your figure in your sister. He’s back to imagining girls to be you, he’s back to that sick habit of his. But he can't help it. Effortlessly, he flirted with your sister, and surprisingly your sister was horny. Very horny for Hendery. One thing led to another and the next thing he knows he’s fucking her hard from behind kissing her shoulders and imagining that it’s you.

“What’s that noise” you murmur to Lucas while you were having a nap with him. Lucas giggled and whispered back, “I think Prince Hendery paid her a visit and... you know...” he was giggling and keeping you close to him as he went back to his nap, completely clueless that you’re hurting.

Everything that you and Hendery built from the past few days falls down when you came to his house and had your first fight.

ACT 4

“You didn’t call! Or texted that he’s already back you just left me hanging!”

“And that’s a good reason to fuck my sister?”

“It just happened!”

“Bullshit!” You shouted back. Louder than before, completely overpowering his shouts. With all his bravery, he got you a glass of water, came closer to you, and caressed your shoulders to keep you calm.

“I fucked up and I’m sorry, please,” he says sincerely.

Then you realized something.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me. It’s okay if you and my sister fucked because someday you will be married to each other. Were the ones cheating”

He listened to every word you said and begged you to take it back because he’s losing you again. When you finally said, “let’s end this Hendery. Do you want to have more fights like this in the future? What will you feel if I tell you that me and Lucas fucked last night-“

It was like thunder, disturbing the silence of his quiet house when he grabbed the glass of water and threw it in one corner.

“Exactly my point. We don’t belong to each other anymore. I’m sorry”

“Y/n. Please-“ he begged once again but you just repeated everything you said and left him.

The end.

It was the end of your story with Hendery.

But just as you thought that you’re done handling one heartbreak for the day, you’re wrong. Lucas called to tell you the news that your grandfather had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital.

After everything that happened on that day, you never made peace with Hendery and never talked to him again. Lucas saw you at your lowest and took care of you every day after the funeral and never left your side.

Months passed by quickly and Hendery is staying in your palace as per your sister’s request and continue to ignore each other for safety. Sometimes you greet each other for formality but never as friends and as past lovers. Lucas is not stupid to not see what’s happening.

Two months before your coronation day, you were sitting on your throne with your leg up and pouting as you’re thinking if you’re really ready to be a queen. You see Lucas enter the hall but you did not move an inch. He sat on the cold floor in front of you, reaching for your hand and kiss it.

“I miss him, I wish he could see me as a queen” tears started to fall but Lucas is quick to dry them.

“He saw you as a queen already even when you were only a little girl” you understand what he said and you’re thankful for him for not leaving you at your lowest and choosing to be with you even though he found out about you and Hendery. “So... I wanted to do this, while you’re still you. And not...the queen” he says awkwardly and pulls out a small red velvet box.

But you sit properly and stopped him from opening it and saying the question that will change your life, “how can you stay to a woman who cheats?”

“Your grandfather told me love is patient. I had a meaningful talk with him, you’re right he’s wise. He told me you love me and he said if one day you do something stupid and wrong, which turns out you did... He told me ‘check your heart if you still love her, and if you still do marry her and don’t ever let her go again’"

Tears started to fall from your eyes again. “So will you marry me Y/n. Let me be the one to dry your tears forever?” He let out an awkward laugh, nervous about the next thing that will come out of your mouth.

“Yes, of course, yes” you cup his face, and this time you’re the one to dry his tears away.

Little did you know that Hendery heard everything. And he is beyond heartbroken.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

give me all your venom, i love that shit

summary: i do apologize. no one asked for this...but i accidentally watched assassination nation. okay, it was intentional the first time. but the twenty times after that while i was writing this were accidental. anyway...smut stuff. webcam smut with love of my life Andrew Barber.

warnings: cheating. age gap. andy gets a little dark. this is prob as dark as i would ever write this perfect, beautiful man. a million and one pet names also.

word count: around 11,100 lol oops

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: so yes, age gap. it’s unclear what that is. go ahead and do what you will. it’s truly none of my business. also...one day, i’ll write in my tags ‘i’m gonna post tonight’ and actually post that night. not 300 nights later!

Laurie was a great woman, pretty much the kind of woman that you had always wished your mom would just wake up one day and feel completely compelled to act like. She was always so nice when she spoke to you, even the times you were clearly a little drunk and practically falling out of your tiny skirts.

She chalked it up to youth, so you’d once been told. That was huge in the little town you lived in. Mostly, if people saw all the skin you were showing, what they thought of you was clearly written all over their faces.

Laurie just liked talking to you. About anything. Everything. School, friends, boys, the future. This interest that she took in you didn’t end when you stopped babysitting for the Barbers, if anything, it made your conversations warmer. It was evident that the little time she could get with you was precious to her.

Jacob was the sweetest kid in the world. You had been apprehensive when she first called you. One reason only: babysitting boys was the worst. They were little demons and their parents either were blissfully unaware or did know and just didn’t care. You’d seen the same show for several years.

Not Jacob. And definitely not the Barbers. They were all so perfect and well-adjusted. You hadn’t been sure what to make of them those first few months. You had briefly suspected that both Laurie and Andy were total sociopaths who’d spawned another little sociopath. Come to find out, you just actually had such a fucked-up family situation.

Jacob loved playing video games with you, even though you were terrible at them. He never got upset when you made him lose, he just insisted that you needed to practice. Around the time you left, you’d started to get a little decent at them. He also enjoyed coloring and reading, two of your preferred babysitting activities.

Still, he was also an energetic little boy and that meant that he had dragged you outside sometimes to play very distracted versions of soccer, basketball, baseball a few times, and football once. Only once.

You’d both ended up covered in mud, it had been raining that morning but neither of you wanted to be deterred by that. When Laurie found you, she was horrified. Maybe a tad amused, seeing as she needed several pictures of the two of you.

You had wanted to walk home that night, the same thing you did after most shifts. The problem was, they had arrived home a bit later than usual. Laurie first, Andy about 10 minutes later. You didn’t want to walk through the house, so while Laurie was still threatening to hose off Jacob outside, you made your way around to the front porch.

Just as Andy was unlocking the front door.

Andy. He was easily the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Mostly, he was in these perfect god damn suits because he was a lawyer. Other times, he didn’t shy away from tight shirts that clung to his arms and chest, and jeans that did the same for his ass.

The coveted position of babysitting for the perfect, loving Andy and Laurie Baber. It was hilarious that it went to you because you were the only one who hadn’t been desperately trying to get it. All your friends would bend over backward, even though a friend of a friend of a friend, Julia Something, had claimed that Jacob was an utter hellion.

But what it came down to was the fact that Andy looked like he had been made by someone trying to create the perfect human being. Everyone was just looking for a way in and when you got it, no one could believe it. You hadn’t been as serious about babysitting. You liked the families you liked and tended to stick to three to five, but Laurie got your number from one of those mothers. How could you say no?

According to many of your friends, you should have. It was a betrayal, but one they couldn’t be too mad about because only an idiot would turn down an offer like that. They tended to pay generously also, so it took a total of three seconds to decide you were in.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “Back door locked?”

“No, I just didn’t want to walk through the house.”

“Right.” He gave you a once over before turning down to his phone. “Do I even want to know?”

That would officially mark the most words he’d ever said to you in one conversation. Laurie loved you, Jacob claimed that he was never, ever going to allow another babysitter to step inside his house, but Andy hardly even looked at you. That wasn’t uncommon. Most of the dads didn’t care, but those were the families that you didn’t stick with for too long.

“Football,” you explained.

He gave you a surprised look.

“But don’t get your hopes up or anything. Jacob sucks.”

He scoffed.

“Can you grab my bag? It’s just right by the door.”

“Heading home?”

“I should. My parents hate when I work this late, they’ve probably been texting me for the past two hours now.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He didn’t close the door after him so you could hear Jacob excitedly screaming about his father being home. Andy was a great dad and Jacob idolized him just as much as he idolized Laurie. It was a beautiful family dynamic that sometimes still baffled you. Your family looked much different.

He returned with your bag.

“Thanks.” You took it and turned.

“Y/N!”

You looked back as Laurie was rushing out.

“Oh, don’t walk home, dear. Andy will drive you.”

The look on his face told you that he had not offered and that she hadn’t even run it by him before that moment.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you attempted to decline. “Honestly.”

“It’s late and cold.”

“I don’t want to get mud all over the car.” It was an expensive fucking car.

“Nonsense, it’s just a car,” Laurie insisted. “Besides, I paint the house a lot. I’m sure we have a few tarps still. Andy, will you go get one?”

He didn’t need further prompt to disappear inside. Laurie apologized for being late, you told her not to worry about it—more time with Jacob was never a bad thing. She thanked you for everything you did for them and you shyly accepted. She asked about your parents then, and before you had to give an elaborate answer, Andy was back with the tarp.

The drive was awkward.

It had started silent and you tried to hide away in your phone, but apparently, no one felt like texting you in that moment. Prior, your friends had been trying to talk to you nonstop, but wasn’t life just funny like that?

You felt like an idiot just staring out the window. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen around a thousand times before; he wasn’t even driving a different way. It looked like you were trying to avoid him and this insane, aggressive part of you just hated to appear weak or caught off guard.

Maybe it was your fault then. You were the one who spoke first and after that, things were just different. “How was work?”

It took him a moment to come up with a reply, and what a reply it was. “Fine. I guess.”

“Cool…” you sighed, clicked your tongue a couple of times, then glanced at him. He was staring forward, eyebrows pulled together, confused. Sure, he’d never taken much of an interest in you, and up to that point, as far as he knew, you’d never taken an interest in him. “What kind of lawyer are you?”

“What kind?”

“Like…a wife kills her husband for all of his money. Where are you in the courtroom?”

He chuckled. “I’m a public defender. I don’t normally get cases like that, unless my boss is trying to get on the good side of some irritating, rich people.”

You hummed. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Why all the questions? You want to be a lawyer?”

You snorted. “I was just curious. I don’t really hear you talk about work.”

He didn’t say anything else and you felt shot down in a sense. Most fathers were easy to talk to. They loved to hear their own voice and they loved how you pretended to like to hear every word. Obviously, Andy wasn’t in that group. At least a few of your friends had responded to your texts so it wasn’t terribly awkward. He said goodnight when you climbed out of the car, you said it back and closed the door.

You thought that was that.

After that, any time you babysat, he would drive you home. Laurie didn’t even have to say anything, it was just expected that he would do it. He was the one who spoke on the second drive because you weren’t going to try again. It was just stupid stuff. How you were doing with school. How your family was. How your friends were. How your boyfriend was. Because you had a boyfriend, right? He had asked but you knew that he knew you did, Laurie asked about him a lot. Andy never seemed to be paying attention.

That was how it was for almost a month. Then something just changed. The conversations became something else. He asked you where you wanted to go, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave Massachusetts, but you knew you wanted to put some miles between you and your family. He asked you about the future, where you saw yourself. He told you a little about himself, only what he had wanted his life to look like when he was your age.

He had believed he was going to be a high school history teacher.

It wasn’t weird. You didn’t talk to any of the other fathers like this, but it didn’t feel like something you shouldn’t be doing. He just liked talking to you and he actually wanted to hear what you had to say, what you thought about things.

It was innocent. Even when he started coming home early just to make sure he could drive you home. Even when you started taking your jacket off in the car or crossing your legs and pretending you didn’t notice that your skirt was riding up. Even when he looked at you and you acted like you didn’t see it. Even when you would end up sitting in his car, parked down the street from your house, just talking because he knew you didn’t want to go inside.

Perfectly innocent. For almost six months.

You were walking home from school when you got a text from Jacob. He couldn’t find his science project that you had helped him work on. You could have just told him where it was, but then you wouldn’t get the chance to stop by the Barber house. You showed up and Laurie happily invited you in. It was in the garage, something you pretended to remember after about an hour. Jacob had a play date so when his friend’s parents picked him up, Laurie asked you to stay for coffee.

You did. You wanted to extend your time there because even if he didn’t come home soon, Laurie would tell him you had been there. She would mention you and he would be thinking about you. Which is all you ever really wanted.

But sometimes your plans didn’t really work out. You had been turning down jobs, better-paying jobs, jobs you’d had far longer than the Barbers. They had been friends of your parents, it was how you met them, so typically, word got back to your mother. She felt you were the most irresponsible person in the world and didn’t fail to remind you of those feelings when she sent you seven texts and ordered you to get home.

You didn’t want to deal with the chaos of making her angry by spending any more time trying to see Andy. It was a failed attempt at getting closer to him, and as you were walking down the street, you were almost thankful. What the hell were you doing? Why were you trying to get closer to him? Jacob’s father, Laurie’s husband, your boss. That was it. That was all he could be.

But then, much earlier than you’d ever seen him, he was driving by you. You smiled, waved, but kept going. He was the one who circled back and told you to get in. You didn’t need to be told twice. You wanted to talk anyway, you wanted to tell him what was going on with your mother.

He parked down the street again. It wasn’t dark like it usually was but there was no one around. Everyone was staying warm inside. The heaters were on and you had draped your jacket over your legs. It was freezing but leaving the car was the last thing you wanted to do.

He only spoke when you had finished venting. And it wasn’t in the direction you had thought it would go. “You’ve been turning down jobs?”

Shit. You just shrugged. “A few, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I’m busy.”

“You’ve been around the house a lot more lately,” he pointed out. “Is that how you’ve been so busy lately? With Jacob? With us?”

“I…I just don’t feel like babysitting for them anymore.”

“Because you just want to babysit for us.”

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I don’t know why I’ve been turning them down.”

“I know.”

You lifted your eyebrows.

He placed his hand on your thigh with absolutely no hesitation.

You couldn’t explain how good his skin felt against yours. Like after running a mile and then finally catching your breath. Or waking up and seeing that you still have hours before your alarm clock goes off. Like when you’re walking down the streets during October and the houses are all decorated. Like when you’re starving and you finally eat something you’ve been craving.

“You want to see me.”

“I like seeing Jacob,” you muttered. You saw his hand move up before you felt it, your breath audibly caught and you shuddered. Pathetic. Weak. Desperate.

“You come over almost every day.”

You turned up to him, trying to keep your voice level. “You come home early every day.”

“I want to see you,” he assured. “Just like you want to see me…right?”

You nodded.

“Because you feel something for me.”

You wanted him, that was the best way to describe it. So fucking bad, so bad you couldn’t think straight sometimes. So bad that when your boyfriend touched you, you nearly got physically sick sometimes. So bad that in your bed, at night, with your hand between your legs, you pictured Andy and no one else.

“And you feel something for me,” you countered.

“I do.”

Before you could respond, his phone was ringing. Laurie, oh god. He saw the look on your face but clearly had no interest in letting those logical emotions—shame, guilt, disgust—grow. “Give me your phone.”

You weren’t sure why you did so. He handed it back to you with a new contact. Under the name: Daddy. You closed your thighs, rubbing them together, catching his fingers where they were still laid over your leg. You were so wet, desperate for some friction.

“You’re going to go inside,” he started. “You’re going to go to your bedroom, strip down, get in front of your mirror, and fuck your fingers. You’re going to watch the whole time. Then, when you can’t take another orgasm, you’re going to send me a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your mind was reeling. You had never sent naked pictures before, but that was because you knew what would happen if you did. They would get shown to everyone. Andy couldn’t show anyone. Andy wouldn’t show everyone even if he could.

“Okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Give me your panties,” he ordered. “I want to take them home.”

You wondered if he had done this before, if he did it often maybe. But did it matter? At the end of the day, that wasn’t going to make either of you any less terrible than you were being.

But there was just one problem with his request. “I’m not wearing any.”

His eyes dropped down. “You aren’t wearing panties?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Now, you didn’t plan on fucking me tonight. That’s too much too soon. But I am the reason…it wasn’t because you thought my fingers would end up buried in your pussy, not yet… Daddy wants an answer, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oh, fuck. Instead of speaking again, you spread your thighs and brought your own hand up your skirt. You were soaking, something he could hear when you pressed your fingers down. Which was why you had decided to skip underwear. Any time he was around, in a suit, you were wet.

His hold tightened on your thigh and you let out this small whimper. It was almost deafening in that car.

You pulled your hand back and brought your drenched fingers up to the steering wheel. You just wanted to leave something for him without risking anyone seeing you both in a weird situation.

He leaned forward almost instantly, inhaling as his eyes shut. “Fuck, you smell exactly like I thought you would.” His tongue dipped out just slightly and he licked the slick off the steering wheel, groaning gently. “And you fucking taste…”

Your phone buzzed and you both startled. “Shit.”

Andy sat up, clearing his throat. “Go. Do what I said.”

You went to reach for the door, but he cleared his throat. Oh, god. After what you just did, could you even pretend that you hadn’t surrendered completely? “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

After that, it was all kind of just a blur. You quit babysitting, which was very hard. You really did love Jacob and you were sad for a very long time every moment you remembered that you weren’t going over there to see him. You were never going to that house again, at least that was what you had told yourself.

That meant you didn’t see Andy quite as often, which was probably for the best. But he saw you. Often. Very naked. You sent him nearly hundreds of pictures a month, dozens almost every night. He was never too busy for you and maybe you liked that, maybe that was what made you feel so special. Maybe it was just him, the way he looked at you during those awkward exchanges when your mother dragged you to the grocery store with her and you ran into them. Maybe it was when he would call you even though he was at the office once you got home because he wanted to hear you orgasm. Maybe it was after your boyfriend would drop you off at home—and Andy always knew because you told him, you weren’t going to lie, you had no reason to—and he would ask you if he touched you, if he made you come.

He was your age. Andy was much older. More experienced. He never failed to remind you that that meant he could make you feel so much better. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you didn’t just break up with him. Security, probably. If Andy ever decided to end this. Whatever it was. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

When Laurie wanted something, she got it. It wasn’t because she was aggressive or just didn’t take no for answer. It was because she was such a good person, how could anyone feel okay disappointing her? You certainly couldn’t.

When she insisted that you come over for dinner, you knew it was wrong. You knew she would rightfully hate you if she knew what you were doing with her husband. You knew she would feel hurt by the both of you, betrayed, outraged, disgusted. But you went anyway, and it wasn’t to flirt with Andy. Sure, you had done that once or twice in the past, but not this time. This time was for Laurie because she missed you. You had quit so suddenly and then it was like you didn’t exist to her at all. You owed her this dinner.

The look on his face when he saw you in the living room told you that he hadn’t been told about this. He looked terrified, worried.

“Look who I ran into this morning!” Laurie called out from the kitchen. She was over the stove stirring some pasta and you were at the table looking at all of Jacob’s drawings he had done in the past few months since you’d last seen him.

You gave him a look. He should know better than anyone why this was something you couldn’t just get out of. He couldn’t be mad at you. And he better not be accusing you of playing with Laurie like this.

He nodded once, just slightly. “Y/N.”

“Mr. Barber,” you returned.

Then nothing, he went upstairs and you returned your undivided attention to Jacob. Around a half-hour later, Laurie had to go upstairs and drag him downstairs, both trying and failing to hide their irritation.

She asked you about the usual after you had all settled in a bit. School was always the start. Laurie told you that school was the most important thing in the world. She had graduated but with a degree that she didn’t utilize. She loved her life, but she had her regrets and she didn’t want you to make the same mistakes.

She moved to family next. You always kept the answers light around Jacob, knowing that Laurie could read between the lines anyway. Your mother joined two different book clubs. Laurie knew that meant she was just trying to avoid your father.

Then your boyfriend. Another thing she wanted you to be careful about. She wasn’t expecting to get pregnant with Jacob when she had. She loved both Andy and Jacob, but she would have loved to hold off for a few years. She told you to take care of yourself first. Take care of your dreams, your future, your body, your identity before you worried about anyone else. Be selfish, be ambitious. She was like a mom; one you never even knew existed outside of television. You often wished she weren’t so nice to you. You knew you didn’t deserve it.

She just wanted to know how he was. How long had you guys been together, again? Right, that was quite a long time, she claimed. Where was he working? The same place still? You felt Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. He hadn’t looked at you for the whole dinner until Laurie mentioned your boyfriend.

Did you know about his politics? She promised it was better to know before it was too late. She knew his parents, knew that they were rather conservative. Everyone there was, though. The chances of finding a perfect man? Well, Andy was already taken.

Had you guys spoken about the future? Not really, not cohesively, but that wasn’t the answer you gave. You knew what he wanted and he pretended that he didn’t know what you wanted, pretended that one day you would just wake up and see it all his way. What does he want to do?

You were thinking about Andy. His hands, his mouth, his beard. You thought about making him mad, jealous. You thought about how he would be short over text and make you send him pictures and videos until he was less angry, then he would call and his voice would be so deep, he would growl orders at you. Fuck. “Yeah…he wants a huge family.”

“Oh.” Laurie nodded, clearly it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Well…what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie, but Andy would give you hell for it later. He told you that was one of the sexiest things about you. That you knew what you wanted. Basically, he just meant it was sexy that you were selfish enough to be getting involved with him.

“Well, just make sure you know before you make any choices that can’t be undone.”

If only someone had given Andy this lecture all the way back. You wondered how things would be if he wasn’t married, if he had never met Laurie, but If he was still here. You wondered what relationship you would have with him.

“You want to stay in Massachusetts?”

You shrugged. Andy wouldn’t let you come later, until you promised you were going to stay. You just had this deep, sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be kind about it either. Good. It had been so long since he was rough with you. Even over text, he was dominant and in total control. He owned you but you were worried he was getting comfortable with that, you worried that he was under the impression that he could be less possessive. Hell no. You were his, undeniably, but only so long as he was going to claim you as his.

“Well, you’re young…the possibilities are endless.”

“Well, I hope you guys break up,” Jacob bluntly stated.

You and Laurie both turned to him with wide-eyed looks. Andy was stunned for a moment, then had to hide his smile by sipping at his beer.

“Jacob,” Laurie scolded. “Don’t say things like that. That was very mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, ‘if she has more time, she can come back to babysit me.”

You scoffed.

He turned to you. “Is it because of him?”

“No, I promise. I’m just…busy.”

“Busy?” He rolled his eyes. “Adults are always “busy”.”

“You know, I think it’s time I put him to sleep,” Laurie scoffed.

“No,” Jacob whined. “I never get to see her anymore!”

Laurie sighed. “Jacob—”

“I’m not going to bed until you promise to come back,” he declared.

“Jacob,” you pleaded.

He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. “I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.” Then he set his jaw and turned forward. He had never looked more like Andy, where usually, he looked eerily like Laurie.

You really did miss him. Not that you would ever tell Andy, but a part of you did resent him for the fact that you had to quit. It wasn’t all on him, but if he had never let this start, things would still be the same.

Laurie looked completely exasperated and it wasn’t like you didn’t have enough guilt where she was concerned. “Okay, Jacob, if you go to bed, I will try to come back for the summer. You know, I won’t be so busy.” You glanced at Laurie who appeared just as hopeful. “You know, maybe at least a couple of days while you guys are at work.”

“Well, I was going to do this later because I didn’t want you to feel like this was the only reason that I asked you here. We miss you and I just wanted to see you, but…” she glanced at Andy. “I just found out that I’m going to be taking a work trip this summer.”

“Work trip?” you inquired. You weren’t aware that her job would ever require traveling.

“Yeah, just this conference, kind of, for people who work with children. This is the first time we have been invited to it, so it’s really important but I’m just not okay leaving Andy and Jacob alone. Andy’s job…”

“I told you, I could take the summer off,” Andy assured.

Laurie gave him a look. Yeah, that was highly unlikely. Andy wouldn’t know what to do with himself after probably the first three weeks. She faced you. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. If you can’t come back, we understand. The Rifkins were telling us about your friend, the one who also babysits. Her name is Lily…something?”

Your eyes instinctively went to Andy. He was giving you a knowing look. All your friends would fuck him in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have cared. If he fucked anyone, you should have had the plan to just walk away. You doubted your ability to do that, unfortunately. And you couldn’t stand the thought of him touching her. Anyone but her.

“I’ll think about it,” you promised Jacob.

He smiled widely. “Okay, I’ll go to bed now. I’m exhausted.”

You smiled.

Laurie took Jacob upstairs after saying goodnight to you. That left you alone with Andy for what you both knew would be just enough time for anything, but you had your limits. Not in the house. Not while Laurie and Jacob were here. You decided it was time to call it a night and he decided he was going to walk you to your car. It was dark after all.

You just rolled your eyes and marched out the front door. You tried to stay in front of him so you could get inside your car first, so he couldn’t grab you or talk to you. You just needed to get out of there, anything that needed to be said would have to wait for that night when he texted you.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get my kid’s hopes up.”

That was how he wanted to start? You looked back at him; eyebrows lifted. “You mean yours.”

“Jacob misses you—”

“And you?”

He sighed at you. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, just don’t try to use Jacob against me. I will think about it…there are just things…that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“You know what, Andy—”

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you call me?”

You crossed your arms, silently staring up at him. Your back faced the driver’s side door, the handle perfectly in your reach if you needed it.

“Baby,” he warned. “Don’t start acting up right now just because you know I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not acting up—”

“Then what did you just call me?”

“Nothing,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I meant to call you daddy.”

He moved closer then, either hand on the car door behind you.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic and you immediately looked around. It was too dark to see anything, and this was Andy Barber. He was a trusted and well-respected man. No one would think anything even if they did walk out and saw this with their own eyes. He was a damn good lawyer and could convince anyone of anything.

It had been months since you spent so much time with him, but even still, the closest the two of you had ever been was in the car. There was an invisible line that neither of you crossed because you never wanted to get caught. It was always so light out, your creepy neighbors would just sit on the porch from sunrise to sunset because they were desperate for anything.

This was different. There was no one around. There was nothing to stop either of you from taking this further than you ever had. This was the extent of your relationship. Stealing moments. Secrets. But he had never touched you, he’d never kissed you. It was all you could think about in that moment.

“What was all of that?” he asked.

“What?”

“All that bullshit? You lied to Laurie.”

You scoffed. “No, actually, I didn’t.”

“Really? That’s what you want to fucking do with your life? Just be some god damn trophy for that boyfriend of yours?”

You shrugged. “I would love to be a trophy.”

He glared. “You’re smart, okay? And you’re interesting—”

“So, instead of being a trophy, I should be a spectacle? I should entertain people—”

“That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I’m fucking angry.”

“About what?!”

“Him!”

Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t that you were surprised he felt that way, you just weren’t expecting to hear him say it.

He sighed, turning up. He was probably watching the window to make sure Laurie hadn’t heard anything.

“What are you even angry about?”

“I work with his fucking father.”

“And?” you demanded.

He looked down at you after several seconds of staring at the window. “He always fucking talks about you. He thinks you’re going to marry his son.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” you pressed. “Maybe I fucking will, Andy.”

“He’s an asshole. You tell me all the time. And if you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let me?” you scoffed. “You’re married. You can’t do shit.”

The look he gave you told you that was the last thing you should have said. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you away from him, pushing you into the car door.

“Andy—”

 You were in a tiny pair of shorts, despite how freezing it was that night. That must have been what gave him the idea to smack you, more so your thigh than your ass, but it hurt, nonetheless. You slammed your hands over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

There were times when you thought you were going to die if he didn’t touch you. Obviously, you were always wrong, but you didn’t care. Sometimes, when you would plead to whatever or whoever it was up there, that you just needed him to touch you, just a touch, you would claim you didn’t care how. This worked. Even though it really fucking hurt and the cold air was still stinging your skin, this was what you wanted.

“You know what you need to be calling me, honey.” His hand was at the button of your denim shorts and you panicked.

You tried to catch his wrist, but he was much stronger than you. Before you said a word, he had yanked them open, the zipper too. But no, not now, not here. “Daddy, stop—”

“You still think I can’t do anything?”

“Please, not here—”

His fingers pressed against your stomach and traveled down. You instantly lost your ability to speak or think. When he reached the band of your underwear, he scoffed. “Wearing panties? Why?”

What kind of question was that?

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he cooed. “Such a sweet girl.”

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“Daddy will stop,” he promised. “But only if you want him to. Do you want daddy to stop?”

“Please.” Yes, please. But also, maybe please, don’t. Please, keep going. Please, touch me more because you never have. Please, touch me where we both want you to so bad.

“Okay, but first, I’m going to check if you’re wet. If you aren’t, fine. If you are, well, you know you’re not supposed to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you promised. “But—”

“Shh, baby.” He pressed his fingers down and you felt like you were dying. Honestly, like your life was on the verge of ending because nothing had ever felt so good and nothing should feel so good.

He didn’t go inside your underwear, of course not. He was always teasing you. Instead, he moved down until he felt the material was damp and made a soft, disapproving sound.

“I wasn’t lying,” you insisted, trying not to move too much. If he thought you were enjoying this too much, he might decide to get cruel.

“So, you want daddy to stop right now?”

You wanted to say yes, you wished you could make yourself. However, you stayed silent because you knew he would stop, you knew he would completely withdraw from you until you were begging him. Mostly, you couldn’t force yourself to want him to stop touching you no matter how wrong you knew it was.

“You know, baby girl, daddy wants something from you.”

You almost promised him anything he wanted but thankfully, forming coherent words was still something beyond you.

“Daddy wants you to come back this summer.”

No. That wasn’t going to happen. You knew now that it couldn’t happen. You knew now that if you were ever in a room with Andy, that both of you would get as close as you possibly could, that you would try to touch in any way that wouldn’t raise concern. And if no one was home? If Jacob was upstairs and you and Andy were downstairs? No, you wouldn’t do that to Laurie. Not in her house.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

You shook your head. “You know I can’t.”

“All I know is that I don’t like it when you tell me no.”

Which is something he wouldn’t actually know because you had never told him no. This was different. This was about hurting someone who had only ever been good to you. And Jacob—god, Jacob. If you were caught, Laurie would leave Andy and that was the last thing you wanted for Jacob.

“I’m saying no,” you insisted, but your voice was hardly more than a mutter.

He said nothing for several terribly long seconds, then pulled aside your panties and finally touched your pussy.

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your forehead against the car window. His fingers moved higher until he circled them around your clit and you shuddered. Even biting your lip couldn’t completely muffle the sounds you were making.

He shushed you, a completely patronizing gesture as he was the reason you were being so loud.

“Daddy,” you gasped. “Daddy, please.”

“You want to come on daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded fast. “So bad, daddy.”

“Mm. Well, daddy wants you back, princess.”

“Daddy,” you whined. This couldn’t happen, not now. Where was his fear? Anyone could walk out. Laurie could just glance out the window and see everything.

“Daddy wants to see you back in the house every day. Playing on the floor in your tiny little skirts and your tiny little shirts that you never wear a bra with. Daddy wants to see you biting your lip and pressing your thighs together when you’re watching me, when you think I don’t notice.”

Fuck. You genuinely had thought you were being discreet. He was clearly discreet, however, because you had never noticed that he was watching so closely.

“But more than anything, I want to have you all to myself, baby girl.”

“I…would be babysitting,” you reminded.

“Jacob has a lot of friends. I’ll schedule him some play dates. Say yes.”

“No, daddy, please—”

“Say yes,” he ordered.

“I can’t.”

“I’m not going to let you come until you do.”

The noise you made was a cross between a cry and a whimper, something truly pathetic. He had you scared and he knew it, so he thrust two fingers inside you and when your mouth opened to scream, he wrapped his opposite hand around your neck.

You swore you would come just like that if he didn’t stop. You had dreamt about his hands around your throat. You would try choking yourself when you were making videos for him, but you knew it wasn’t like the real thing. When he would call you, you would always beg choke me, daddy.

His fingers were thick enough to stretch you even though you were dripping. Your mind wandered to his cock. You could feel it against your ass, and even through his pants, you could tell he was big. But it was little more than a theory. You’d never seen his cock because he didn’t send you pictures. Most of your relationship with Andy had been set around your imagination.

He kept you quiet with his hold around your neck, but his fingers fucked into you so hard that the wet sounds echoed down the empty street. If anyone found the two of you, you would be completely humiliated by how evidently desperate you were.

“Daddy,” you gasped when you felt yourself just right there, so close to that edge. Maybe you were biased in the moment in thinking that this was going to be the best orgasm you had ever had. You had toys, Andy had made sure of that, and some of them did the trick. But it was never like this. Close, at times, but only ever when you were making videos for him or talking to him on the phone. It was all Andy, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he was telling you no one else could make you feel so good.

“You close, princess?”

You hummed a confirmation and just like that, he pulled his hand away altogether. The one around your neck was keeping you quiet but your pussy was completely neglected. It was absolutely devastating.

Stupidly, you’d forgotten his grand plan of forcing you to say yes. You weren’t going to, this was so much bigger than this stupid affair. You could live with yourself knowing you were a whore, you could live knowing you were a homewrecker so long as no one else knew, but you could not and would not even attempt to be okay with sheer stupidity. And stupidity was playing this game. You didn’t understand why he wanted to either.

“How do you feel now?”

“No,” you snapped.

“Watch the tone,” he warned.

“God,” you huffed tiredly. “I can’t. No, I’m saying no.”

He simply hummed and with no warning, buried his fingers inside you once more. “Then I guess we’re going to be here for quite a while.”

A whine caught in your throat and you practically choked trying to talk to him. “Daddy, we’re going to get caught.”

“Then say yes. You think you can have an attitude and mouth off and I’m just going to let it go because we might get caught?”

Well, honestly, yes, you had expected that. This was bad and you knew you were fucked up because that was making it feel better. He was pressed against you, hiding you from any eyes that may look outside because he was insanely possessive and didn’t want anyone else seeing you naked. He was holding you so tight that it actually hurt and he was barely letting you breathe, you were getting dizzy and lightheaded and you just needed to come.

He did this to you so many times that you lost track. The only thing you did know was that it wasn’t taking long even though it felt like it. It was Tuesday night and you had been here enough at this time to know that this was a busy night for these rich people. You’d walked out of the house at 7:46. The bathroom light was still on and would be for another 30 minutes at least, because Jacob was a menace when he wanted to be—but never with you. Mrs. Johnson always came home from her cooking club at 8:20 to 8:30. Mr. Garcia would always come out at around 8:15 to leave his trash or recycling, depending on the night of the week. Sometimes, Mrs. Wilson’s grandchildren would stop by for late visits. They were all doctors and lawyers, at least, that was the reason they gave for never coming at a reasonable hour, but they actually just wanted money and knew she would be too tired to say no. Mrs. Taylor’s twin demons you once had the displeasure of devoting your Monday and Friday nights to had to go out every night at 8:30 until 10:00 because of some stupid project they were doing on stars.

Andy had to know all of this also, so you understood that he was just trying to call your bluff.

Well, fuck, it was going to work. You were terrified. There were so many variables, anyone could show up early. Or hell, there had to be some people here with drinking addictions, an affliction for pills, a house fire could start. Or a revealed affair could lead to a staged murder that looked like something else. Andy being so calm was almost worrisome.

But you were more worried about Laurie. Apparently, you weren’t like him. You couldn’t just shut off your guilt surrounding her. You knew you had to try one more time to get out of this. Andy was pretending right now to be so hard, but he was more than soft for you. He spoiled the hell out of you and let you be very bratty even though he put on a whole show that he couldn’t stand it. But you knew that when you gave him a look, when you softened your voice just enough, when you said the right things, that man would give you the world if he could.

In your littlest, whiny voice, you begged him. “Daddy, please.”

He froze for a moment, letting his hand fall away only to take your shoulders and turn you back to him. He was looking at you curiously, also a tad suspiciously.

You simply stared at him with pleading eyes. He couldn’t honestly think this was a good idea. “We can’t do this. Not around Jacob. Not in the house.”

Realization showed on his face and he scoffed. “Oh, baby, you really are the sweetest thing.” He leaned in to press you flat to the car door once more and brought his hand up, slipping his fingers into your mouth. His eyes were on yours the entire time, as you sucked and licked, and then as he started shoving them down your throat. You gagged, tears were running down your cheeks, and you had started rolling your hips, grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“You are the most beautiful little girl in the world, you know that?”

You hummed, thankful that you didn’t actually have to put an answer to that. He never stopped telling you that you were beautiful, that he’d never see someone else like you, but when you really had to think about it, you were just the average insecure person.

“You’re my little girl, yeah?” He pulled his fingers from your mouth, touching your swollen lips. “Tell me.”

“I’m your little girl.”

“Do you know how badly daddy wants to eat your pussy?”

It took you a moment, but when you realized that he wanted an answer, you shook your head. He didn’t talk about it much. He just liked to listen to you, he liked to tell you that he just wanted to be inside you, that he couldn’t wait to feel you around him.

“Mm…I do. I want to lick you for hours until your begging me to stop. I want you to come in my mouth. I want you to grind your pussy all over my face. You have to know how badly daddy wants you on his cock, though?”

“Yes.”

“Say you’ll come back, gorgeous. Of course, Jacob can never know, this isn’t a game. I just miss seeing you. I miss smelling your perfume and hearing you laugh. I miss having you so close.”

“I miss you, too,” you promised. But. There was still a but, even if you didn’t come right out and say it.

You felt his hands moving against your stomach and then you heard the zipper of his pants. Oh, god. He took your hand and slipped it down his boxers, you both shuddered as your skin touched his.

His eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath in. He tightened his hand around yours and began slowly jerking your hand up and down his cock. “What do you think, baby girl?”

“You’re really big, daddy.” And so fucking thick, you were going crazy just picturing yourself trying to ride him. He was much bigger than your boyfriend, much bigger than anyone else you’d ever fucked.

“Imagine my cock inside your beautiful little cunt. I bet it’ll hurt so much that you cry. And I am going to pound that pussy until you are so stretched and used that your boyfriend won’t be able to make you come at all.”

You wanted nothing more, but you also wanted to have a little bit of fun. “I said you were big…but I didn’t say you were bigger than him.”

He pulled his hand and yours out of his pants and the next second, he was on you. His hand was around your neck, his other holding your jaw, and his face just inches away from yours. “You fucking little brat. You’re lucky I don’t make you get on your knees and choke you on my cock.”

“Kiss me, daddy.”

And just like that, he was no longer upset with you. It was hilarious how easily you could push this man into anything you wanted. And he didn’t even care, he just wanted to give you everything you could think to ask for.

He sighed, glancing around. “I can’t do that, baby, not here.”

Then where? That was when you finally understood. He wanted you back so badly, because where else would you be able to do this? He could get a hotel room but if anyone ever saw you, there would be no defense. It would be apparent what you guys were doing. Your house? Your parents were always around. That only left his house and if Laurie was going to be gone…maybe you didn’t see much harm in that.

“Say yes,” he whispered.

You should have never turned around to look at him. He had won, there was no way you could deny him anymore. You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He smiled and your heart stuttered. He was the most beautiful man in the world. “I’ll let Laurie know...I’ll tell her this was why I was out here so long. And you, angel, need to go straight home, shove a toy in that pussy, and make some videos for daddy.”

It was weeks later than Andy told you he had a surprise for you. A few months had gone by. You hadn’t returned to the Barber home since the dinner and you kept your usual contact with Andy. Just more sending pictures and videos and texting every second it was possible.

He was still thrilled that you were going back for the summer and regularly checked in just to make sure that you didn’t change your mind about it. You still had a few months and he was constantly worried you would feel a sudden burst of guilt. It wasn’t too farfetched, actually.

When you got home, your mother informed you that you had received a package. She claimed it didn’t say who it was from. You knew what that meant. You had checked your phone that morning and saw a text informing you to expect something.

You texted Andy, I got it, then you went to your drawers to pick out something skimpy and lacy.

Good. Take off all your clothes.

Odd, he usually wanted you wearing something. You did as was asked of you and let him know when you were ready for more instruction.

Go to your bathroom with the box.

Once more, you let him know when you’d complied with his orders.

Open the box.

Inside was another smaller box, a picture clearly displaying the product. He bought you a dildo, a rather large one. You didn’t normally get toys this size, they were harder to film with.

Before you could respond, he texted again. Get it out of the box and clean it really well, then stick it to the floor.

Again, you followed his directions. Once it was set up and immovable, you let him know.

Get your laptop, we’re going to Skype.

That left you naked in front of your laptop that was a few feet away. He had you sitting with your legs bent and spread wide so he could see your pussy.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, that was the first thing you noticed. The second was his background, you didn’t recognize it.

“Where are you, daddy?”

“Home. My office. Laurie’s sister is in town so they both went out to see her. Focus, baby. I’m going to send you some videos that I want you to watch.”

“Videos?” You had a feeling you already knew what he meant. And mere seconds later, got confirmation through the email link he sent to you. Porn. Not surprising and you weren’t really opposed.

The videos he sent you were all starred older men, many roleplaying as the stepfather, and younger women playing the innocent, naïve daughter. Older than you mostly, but still significantly younger than the men they were fucking. The videos started tame, small, just cheesy scenarios and rough sex following. But as he sent you more, the men became more dominant. They would choke, pull hair, spank, call her degrading names. You didn’t hate any of it.

He wouldn’t let you touch yourself and he didn’t touch himself. He just watched you the entire time, sometimes talking and asking you questions, but he mainly just wanted you focusing on this. He made you keep your legs open so he could make sure you weren’t being sneaky, which was slightly humiliating. You felt that voicing that, however, would be considered talking back.

It was nearly an hour later that he requested you show him how wet you were. Your fingers frantically ran through your cunt and you held them out toward the camera. He told you to pause the video and get on the dildo. You gracelessly rolled onto your knees, your legs just a little tired from the uncomfortable position he’d directed you to hold for so long. You climbed over the toy, one hand holding it as you straddled it.

“Just take it slow, baby girl.”

You carefully spread your knees further, bringing your pussy closer to the head of the fake cock. You heard him shifting as soon as if touched your skin. You weren’t as nervous as you should have been, you figured you were wet enough to take it all. That insatiable longing to be filled and ruthlessly fucked by him clouded your mind.

As soon as it was inside you by what probably wasn’t even an inch, you froze. Yes, bigger than anything you’d ever taken. It stung a little, yet you didn’t want to pull off completely. You kind of liked the pain anyway.

“Keep going.”

“It hurts.”

“Just try for me, angel.”

You set your hands to the floor, once again spreading your legs wider. The ache didn’t dull as you kept going. “Daddy, I think it’s too big.”

“I’m bigger, that’s why I want you to get used to it.”

Bigger? Even though you were struggling to handle this, you wanted him instead of the toy. You wanted him on top, forcing you to take his cock, cooing to you and kissing your face the whole time. This was a flawed plan that he came up with because you were going to need some major convincing to get any further on this thing.

“Take a minute,” he decided, and you needed no further prompt to pull off.

You hissed lightly, looking at it. You had barely made it down the head. So, this was going to be one of those long calls.

“Use your mouth,” he instructed.

That you could do. You leaned over it, immediately dropping down until it hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flickered up to the screen where you saw his arm moving so slowly, back and forth. You would ask later if you could see him, when you didn’t have something in your mouth.

“Baby doll, you are fucking beautiful.”

You hummed, pulling back and then sliding back down.

“Gag on it. I want to hear you choking.”

You prepped your throat by bobbing up and down, taking it a little further each time. It wasn’t until your nose was hovering just above the floor that you gagged loudly. You backed off hurriedly but did it once more, a second time, a third, a fourth, until he told you to stop.

“Stay there, sweetheart, keep it down your throat. Try swallowing around it. I want you to get used to that, too. That’s how I love having my cock sucked.”

You obeyed, attempting to swallow around the thick piece of silicone. Those tries were followed by a lot of short coughs, gagging noises, and your body moving almost violently every time you got just a little too ahead of yourself. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d woken up late, since you’d stayed up until almost 5 in the morning talking to him, and hadn’t had time to eat anything.

“You think you can do it now?”

You hummed and hoped he wouldn’t press for more. You weren’t sure. You were nervous to try but it wasn’t like he was going to let you off that easy.

“Okay, try again.”

Positioning yourself over it, you realized you were much wetter now. Getting the head inside was easy enough but just as soon, it started to hurt again.

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention down and tried to force yourself to relax. You were nervous, double that now because you didn’t want to fail in front of Andy. You wanted to show him that you knew what you were doing and that when he finally fucked you, it was going to be perfect. You didn’t want him to think of you as some inexperienced little girl.

“Remember, take it easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You never thought you would have an issue with him babying you. “I wish this was your cock, daddy.”

He hummed as if it was a question but was much more focused on your comfort than your attempts to distract him.

“Mhm,” you returned. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I can’t wait to be filled up and dripping with your cum.”

“I’ll cover you in my cum, sweetheart. You wanna try taking a little more?”

You hadn’t moved and it was still aching, but your mind was getting hazy. You were thinking about Andy and how good he was going to fuck you. You wanted it so hard and so fast that you didn’t think the dildo would even suffice. You lowered a tad too fast, earning a disapproving sound from him.

And yes, it hurt, but admitting any type of defeat was beyond out of the question. “Fuck, daddy, it’s so big,” you sighed. You didn’t pull off, but you tried shifting your hips to get a little more comfortable.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

You used your arms for balance and began pulling back carefully before dropping back down. You did this several more times until it was no longer uncomfortably painful. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

You pushed yourself up, balancing on your knees as your hands came up to your breasts. “Can I see you?”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You wanna see me?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He sat up, pushing the laptop back as he stood. You finally got to see that hard stomach you had been pressed against that night and it did not disappoint. You had no idea that he was going to look so strong and beautiful—and honestly, what the hell was he doing with you? You were confident enough and sometimes, some days when things were just going your way, you even loved how you looked. But Andy was inhumanly, unfairly breathtaking.

Then you saw his cock and you instantly whimpered. He was so big, bigger than the toy just as he’d claimed. You’d suspected he was exaggerating, most men did. He laid his cock out on the desk, tip leaking, skin angry and red.

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I can’t wait for summer. I need you now.”

“Just be patient. You need to get a little more accustomed to the toy first because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“You want daddy to make it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your clit, princess. I want to see you come.”

Your hand snapped down to your cunt, mindlessly searching for, and at times successfully catching, that hypersensitive spot. As soon as you heard him grunting, jerking himself off to the sight of you, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

You watched his arm move, the way his muscles tensed, you noticed the veins. He wasn’t the kind of man to show off. His suits were always fitted and occasionally, he wore a short sleeve tee, but you were starting to realize he was rather modest. It was this secret that he finally told you, he was finally showing you parts of himself that you never would have known about had he not extended some type of trust to you.

You needed him to fuck you. You needed him wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest, hips thrusting into yours. You were bouncing on the dildo now, uncaring of how much it hurt, fingers still rubbing large, unskilled circles into your clit. You were high off him, completely entranced and focused on Andy. “Daddy…”

“You close?”

“Yes. Can I please come?”

“You can come, angel.” He stroked himself faster, opposite hand settling on the desk as he leaned over a little.

You took as much of the dildo as you could and stayed, just focusing on touching your clit. You whimpered and whined as you approached your finish, mewling ‘daddy’ at least a dozen times, and told him several times that you needed him inside you, and promised you would do anything for his cock. He was quiet even though he was still fucking his fist, wanting to hear every sound you were making for him.

You nearly collapsed when your orgasm hit. Thankfully, instead of down—because seriously, this was an obnoxiously large toy and there was still so much that wasn’t inside you yet—you fell forward and caught yourself with both hands. You continued to roll your hips, haphazardly moving your hair out of the way with one hand at a time so he could see your breasts move and just how far down you were getting. One feeling you never quite got rid of, no matter what you were doing, no matter how good whatever you were being fucked with was: his praise was even better than coming.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he blurted out. You heard one of his knees buckle, it hit the desk he was standing behind.

“Are you close, daddy?”

He hummed shortly.

“I wish I was there, daddy. I want to taste you so bad.”

And that was all he needed. With a slight groan, his cum streaked out onto the desk between him and his laptop. His hand slowed but didn’t fully stop until he was done coming. He fell back into his chair, chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

“You want me to come over, daddy? I could help you clean your desk.”

He scoffed. “Come on, princess, don’t start being a tease.”

“I’m not,” you promised. “Really, I’ll come over if you want me to.”

He finally looked back at the screen, eyes moving over you as you pushed yourself back onto your knees. Though you still felt the toy was too big, it no longer hurt so you were counting this a success. If you continued to use it every day until you were working for him again, fucking him wouldn’t be so difficult. At least you hoped.

“You wanna come over? You’re not scared of getting caught anymore?”

You shrugged. Yes, you were still terrified but your pathetic desire to be touched by that man could make you do some pretty stupid things.

“Don’t be a brat,” he scoffed.

“Then you should come here. My parents won’t notice.”

“I’m not some uncontrollably horny teenage boy you can convince to sneak in through your window. Come on, you just gotta wait a little longer.”

You sighed. “But I want you.”

“I know, trust me, I want you…” His eyes lowered on the screen and he sighed. “I want to taste you, too. Especially after you just finished.”

You leaned forward to grab the edge of the laptop and pulled it closer. “Look, daddy, I took a lot.”

“You did, baby,” he agreed, voice still just a little light. You came down much faster than him. You had to stall and get him ready to go before he decided it was time to end the call. You wanted to see him. In person. And you were not opposed to playing dirty.

“Do you want me to try again? I can do more—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, angel. You did good today, you need to rest before we do this again. Maybe take a day or two.”

A day or two? Fuck that. He couldn’t see your face, all he could actually see was the dildo still buried in your pussy. You looked down, finding your slick was dripping down the toy. This was going to be easy. You took your fingers and ran them up, collecting what had leaked out of you. You brought it up to your mouth and moaned lewdly—you had to be a little extra, just to make sure he knew.

“Sweetheart,” he warned.

“I wish you could taste me, too, daddy. I’m really good.”

“Come on,” he complained. “Stop it, right now.”

“I could get in my car right now, daddy. We could drive out to that dead-end street by the park. Just one quick, little taste and then I’ll come back home and get into bed and make some more videos for you.”

He said nothing, which you always knew actually meant that you were closer than he wanted to let on.

“Please, daddy? I just need something…summer is so far away.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, finally sitting up straight in the chair. “Damn it, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, daddy but I really, really need you.” You started to pull your hips up and then slowly slid back down. “Can’t you hear how wet I still am?”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

You shoved the laptop back, leaning down on your forearms. “Really?”

“But you’re going to keep that toy inside your pussy.”

“What?”

“Keep it right where it is. Get dressed. Drive to the dead-end street. Wait for me. Oh, bring a towel.”

“A towel?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you knew you’d failed. He wasn’t really planning on fucking you, was he? You wanted it, you would never say no to that man, but you hadn’t thought it would be so easy.

“You’ll need to bite down on something when I’m spanking you.”

Oh, fuck.

[keanureevesisbae]

Christmas with John Wick

Summary: John Wick is about to spend his first Christmas in years.

John Wick x clumsy!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my one shot for the gift exchange! Thank you @overheardatthecontinental​ for this lovely idea. It has been quite some time since I wrote for John Wick and it sure was fun. @ladyreapermc​ I hope you like it 🥰 Merry Christmas everyone!!

John hadn’t celebrated Christmas since Helen died.

Actually, he hadn’t celebrated any holiday at all after the passing of his late wife four years ago and he figured he would never do that again. While the world around him would celebrate days like Valentines Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would sit on his couch, staring at the fireplace with his loyal canine sitting next to him to keep him company.

However this year, that is not the case, all because he met the love of his life: Y/N. He remembers it clearly, seeing her for the first time. March 21st, the first day of spring. He went to his favorite cafe, to order a simple cappuccino, a tradition he started since the beginning of this year. While everything was the same as usual, the presence of the world’s biggest scatterbrain he has ever seen, was out of the ordinary.

She walked in, her head practically buried in her purse. She wore a pink midi dress, paired with white sneakers and when she finally looked up, he saw her pink lips and her beautiful sparkly eyes.

John didn’t believe in love at first sight, but after locking eyes with her, the beautiful woman smiling at him, he was put in severe doubt.

Every day he would see her in the cafe. Sometimes she dropped her money, her entire bag or worse: her coffee. Seeing her muttering apologies made his heart flutter. When she dropped her lipstick and it rolled towards him, he picked it up, so he could hand it back to her. Yet again he was met with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, including the glimmer in her eyes and right there and then, he fell head over heels in love with her.

John thought of her quite a lot, in and outside the cafe. However, when this human form of adorable asked for his name and introduced herself, she was on his mind 24/7. He was looking forward on seeing her in the cafe again and again and again.

Y/N. He kept thinking about her name, how well it matched her personality and how it sounded like a beautiful symphony. For hours on end he kept wondering whether or not he should ask her out. Should he ruin what the two of them already had? A nice good morning exchange every day? Some small talk?

Besides, there was always the opportunity of being turned down. She was breathtakingly gorgeous and way out of his league. Why would she even agree to going out with him?

However, when she greeted him one morning, said his name with her beautiful voice and even touched his arm, he decided to go for it and ask her out.

On April Fools day.

After frantically trying to explain to her that he was definitely not kidding and he was for real, she said yes. He couldn’t believe that on the day of the jokes, he a) had a date and b) had his first kiss in years.

Y/N was and is the best thing that could ever happen to John. He loves waking up next to her and going to the cafe together instead of alone. Simply not being alone with his loyal dog, was all he ever wanted, but never in a million years he thought he would get that.

John watches the love of his life roam through the store, taking in every section of the Christmas department, as he walks behind her with the packed cart.

‘John, honey,’ she says as she spins around to look at him. ‘This is so adorable, look at it!’ She shows him a single Christmas ornament of a pitbull. ‘He looks like Tito, doesn’t he?’

While he never consciously named his dog and simply referred to him as “Boy”, Y/N couldn’t stand the fact the canine did not have a name. Besides, she couldn’t whistle, so calling him became a pain.

She tried tons of names. Bodie, Hunter, Jesse, Victor and even Rudolph, but the dog didn’t respond. Until she tried the name Tito as a joke. While John wasn’t necessarily a fan of the name Tito (he actually hated it, joke or not), he saw how Y/N’s eyes lit up when the dog responded to her, nearly wagging his tail off.

And then he realized the pitbull was indeed a Tito.

‘Put it in the cart, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘If, of course, you can find an empty place to put it.’

Y/N stares at the cart and while she scrunches up her nose, she lets out a sigh. ‘I’m going a little overboard, aren’t I?’

He can’t help but chuckle. ‘Maybe a little bit, but I don’t mind,’ he says, as he looks in the cart, filled with lights, garlands and edible and non-edible ornaments.

‘You are paying for all of this and this ornament alone is ten dollar, which is way too expensive for one single ornament.’

She already walks away, but John grabs her hand and pulls her back. ‘We’re buying this one, sweetheart. I don’t care this alone is ten dollars, I really don’t.’ He lets go of the cart, so he can gently pull the ornament out of her hand.

‘John,’ she says, ‘I think everything in that cart is worth over five hundred dollar. I honestly don’t know what I was even thinking. I guess it’s for the best if we put some stuff back.’

‘We are not putting anything back. Remember, this is our first Christmas together. I want it to be as memorable as we can make it and all of this,’—he nods towards their cart—‘is a necessity to make our Christmas perfect.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘I mean, it’s quite a lot. Stuff wise and money wise and I don’t want you to regret it.’

‘More than sure.’ He presses a kiss on her forehead. She always worries about money, insists on paying for the coffees and other dates, but he never lets her. He adores spending money on her and this… All the Christmas stuff, is only the beginning of the many Christmases they are going to spend together.

The beginning of their future together, because he is positive they are never going to break up. Maybe it’s too optimistic… Maybe, but if it were up to him, he’d never let her go. ‘I’m gonna say this one more time: don’t you ever worry about money again. I’ve got you, darling.’

The two of them stroll through the store some more and Y/N puts some more necessary stuff in the cart. They end up buying Christmas stuff worth a little over seven hundred dollars. John senses an upcoming heart from both the cashier and his girlfriend. While he pays with his card and pretends not to notice, he places his hand on her lower back. ‘Remember to breath, darling,’ he whispers, as the two of them walk to the car. ‘It’s just money.’

After a quick drive back home, they are greeted by Tito. And with them, he means Y/N, because Tito simply ignores John. Sometimes it makes him jealous to see his dog is almost claiming his girlfriend, but he is also forever grateful they get along this amazingly.

‘We are going to decorate our house today!’ she tells the pitbull, who shakes his entire butt as he wags his tail in excitement. ‘I even bought you a stocking, do you like that?’ She kisses the top of his head, before walking towards the table. While John carries the boxes and bags inside, Y/N’s full attention is directed towards her beloved notebook, where she scribbled down what she has planned for his place.

Originally she wanted to decorate her own studio, like she usually did before they started dating, but he keeps telling her that his place is her place. It’s hard for her to believe that, however she barely is at her own studio anymore. She does, on the other hand, still refer to their place as solely his place.

Maybe decorating it will change her mind.

John walks up to her, stands behind her and buries his face in her nape, taking in her lovely perfume. ‘Okay, darling, what’s the plan?’ he asks against her skin, wrapping his arms around her.

‘First the tree,’ she tells him, ‘then the stairs. Everything we have left, we’ll find a spot for that, I can guarantee.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

It took them six hours before they finally decorated the stairs, the tree and the rest of the place. Six hours! It’s safe to say his girlfriend might’ve gone a tad overboard. Everywhere John goes, there is something Christmas related, however he wouldn’t want it any other way.

‘Darling, you need help?’ he asks from the couch, while Y/N is preparing something in the kitchen.

‘No,’ she yells back. ‘Just adding some sprinkles and then it’s all done.’ Not long after she told him that, she walks into the living room with a tray in her hands. ‘Two hot chocolates,’ she says with a smile, placing the tray on the little table in front of the couch and she hands him a mug. ‘Not to brag, but my hot chocolates are the best in the entire world. In fact, they are that good, you might want them all year around.’ Y/N sits next to him with her own white mug she took from her own place. ‘Cheers,’ she says with a smile.

John takes a small sip of the drink and hums in content. ‘This is delicious, darling.’

‘And?’ she pushes with a smile.

‘And I might want this all year around.’

‘Very good,’ she laughs. ‘Oh, look at you.’ She wipes the whipped cream off his nose, before leaning over to him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he says to her, ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too and once again: I’m sorry for totally overdoing it and having you working like a dog, because I had unrealistic ideas.’

John simply scoffs, before chuckling. ‘None of that. Besides, I managed to make your ideas reality, so how unrealistic were those ideas.’ He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to his body. ‘I like it a lot and there is a slight possibility I’m not going to take this down anytime soon.’

The entire night, they spend drinking hot chocolate, watching cheesy Netflix Christmas movies and after a while, his girlfriend fell asleep in his arms. Thankfully she was already wearing her pajamas, so he carries her upstairs, walking passed the Christmas lights woven into the bars of the stairs. John places her in their bed, pressing multiple kisses on her cheek, before he quickly goes downstairs, to lock the doors and turn off some lights.

John passes the lit up Christmas tree and his eye falls on a picture. He didn’t know this was in here. He bends towards the picture, so he can see it up close. It’s a picture of him and Helen. Y/N knows about Helen and she looks at their pictures quite a lot—she even told him to put some up.

And now she placed one in the tree. His Y/N sure is a special one and truly one of a kind.

He smiles at the picture, thinking about Helen telling him to make most out of his life after she passes. It took him awhile, but he is finally getting there. Finally getting to a place where he is happy again.

‘I’m going to have a Merry Christmas, Helen,’ he whispers. ‘I hope you do too from wherever you are.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

[infinitegalahad]

Borhap Boys As Sugar Daddies

(reposted bc it was disappearing from the tags😭)

hey guys!! I wanna apolgoize for the disappearance, school is ✨madness✨ luv. so I've decided to try something new. But I promise I'm working on requests (and a bunch of new ideas). I love all of the borhap boys (bc they are babies🥺) so this might become a little series of head canons! no major warnings, just lots of fluff and some suggestive material. also reader is gender neutral (boy, girl, whatever you what it my dudes!) why not mix my fav trope and boys all in...one fic😳😳 anyways hope you guys enjoy!! I would love some feedback for future reference

Masterlist (requests are welcomed!)

Rami Malek-

Number one that gif of him...need I say more? 🥰

I’m sick of how ya’ll sleep on Rami!! I’m gonna give him tons of love

He would be one of the most affectionate sugar daddy’s tbh

Certainly would spoil the HECK out of you

Whether it be paying off your bills or lavish trips to Greece, Rami always has your back

You never had to pay a SINGLE PENNY when you were around him

Being with Rami, you were a changed person

Your fashion game went UPPPP

Like chanel perfume, all designer clothes, nice handbags, you NAME IT

”Rami, I’m not buying a five hundred dollar shirt from Theory.” ”What do you mean? It would look so good on you, sweetheart.”

Yes, Rami bought you the shirt

You two were at a vinyl place and you saw a limited edition queen vinyl

He buys it (and basically 10+ vinyls you love)

SO RAMI MAKES A WHOLE ASS ROOM IN HIS HOME FOR YOUR VINYLS🥺🥺

This man is omfg i loveee him❣️

Little sneak kisses to your forehead

Seeing you smile as you shop and blush at his complaints makes him so freaking happy HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

He would take you shopping at the best stores

“I would be fine at a target, y’know” as you look around a Gucci store

Rami would snake an arm around your waist as he cooed into your ear, “My baby deserves the best, and nothing but the best

What started out as an arrangement turned into a genuine relationship

When looking for a sugarbaby, Rami was simply looking for company (and someone to spoil the heck out of)

In all truth, he was simply a lonely guy who simply wanted someone to make happy, and made himself happy in the process

Wherever you guys would go, he would always wanna hold your hand and be close to you bc he’s scared of loosing someone he’s made a connection with

And i’m totally not crying as I write this

Both of you were in dark places when you first met

Rami showed how much he truly cared about you

If you called him all upset, he would SPEED over with whatever you needed whether it be pizza or emotional support

Sitting on your couch, his arm wrapped around yours as you vented about your problems

Rami had convinced you to drop your job and come live with him because he’s a KING!!

”Angel, you’re not gonna have to worry about anymore.” ”What do you mean?”

You ended up quitting your job and moving in with him

What turned into an arrangement became an intimate relationship

The sex between you to was AMAZING

it was VERY intimate

It started off slow but would get increasingly rougher god I hate what I said

Rami would always check up and you and NEVER go past your limits

It would end with the two of you cuddling in bed

Let’s just say you never had to worry about your bills ever again😎😎

I MADE MYSELF CRY WHYYY

Gwilym Lee-

my love for this man? ENDLESS

Seriosuly gwilym lee HAVE MY CHILDERN

anyways to the pLOT

Gwilym is the sexiest and cutest man alive

The sugar daddy that will bring you EVERYWHERE HE GOES

He’s such a gentlemen

Like all relationships start, it was more of an arrangement then a relationship

Your job was to escort Gwilym at all these events as “company”

Gwilym would send a bunch of nice items and a driver to bring you to the location

”Hope you like this ❤️ xxx”   “Treat yourself! 😘xxx”

Like mister I-😳😳

Gwilym is literally such a sweet person

Whenever you were spotted with him, you would get thousands of compliemnts/questions

”You’re with Gwilym! So lucky!”

”That necklace is to kill for! Did Gwilym give it to you?”

”Teach my your ways!”

Whenever you’re at these events all these people give you evil stares

Your like👁👄👁 “is Gwilym a playboy??”

Gwilym is all like “what do you mean?? 🥺Of course not! Your the only one that matters to me right now”

He’s such a king we LOVE HIM

Spontaneous trips to France and Italy

Gwilym and you grow super close

Also your dates would range from fancy galas for Gwilym’s works or peaceful book/poetry readings

He LOVES books and always takes you to bookstores and gives his best recommendations

He literally turns into an english teacher while overanalyzing books

”The greenlight in Green Gatbsy is such a crucial symbol”

”Jane Austen is one of the best feminist writers, she was so ahead of her time!”

You wanna be annoyed but can’t

i can’t I LOVE GWILYM LEE I’M NOT SORRY

The two of you would lie in bed together

You would be slouched against his body as he stroked your hair, reading to you in that accent

As much as you love your gentlemen, you get him into the wacky world of ninety day fiance

”This looks like trash...I’m going to watch every minute of it!”

You guys order chinese food and watch this obsessviely for six hours

I know this is meant to be fluffy but why not add some 🌶

Sex with you and Gwil is like ✨fireworks✨

He would make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day let’s just say😉

He would have to carry you around and kiss your head, saying “You're so adorable, poppet” or “Don’t strain your legs, Cariad!”

Also ceo of AMAZING NICKNAMES

”My anwylyd” (Welsh for dearest)

Would 100% write you romantic poems (over text and in paper)

And yes he WOULD dramatically read them to you😤😤✌🏽

He would always greet you with the most over the top nicknames like “Good morning cariad!” or “Sit there and act pretty, my beloved”

hi mr lee please make me your sugar baby

Gwilym is your sugar daddy but also your sweet, book loving man

He loves seeing you happy so in return, you make him happy💓💓

Joe Mazzello-

This one is a wildcard ladies and gays!! 😌😌

Joe definitely does not strike you as a sugar daddy

He seems more like your boyfriend than anything else

The two of you were inseparable

After dinner Joe would take you to a karaoke bar or for ice cream

After the first date you started calling him Joey

Drunken duets to cheesy 80’s romance songs

The two of you would sing your hearts out before vomiting from the copious ammouts of ice cream and vodka

With Joe it’s eithier mcdonalds or Nobu in TriBeCa

Mr.Mazello has range😌✨

This dude is the ceo of cheesy nicknames

”Yes my little lover muffin!”

”What is it cutie patootie?”

”You look amazing buttercup!”

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

In public he calls you “baby” or “lover” dw he saves you from public embarrassment 

You know that meme of will smith and his wife? That is basically you and Joe

My love for his man is infinite

Joe is super clingy

Hand holding and lots of PDA

He wants people to know that your his sugar baby😤😤💓

he will always send texts like

”miss you baby💓💗💓💗!”

”can you grab milk from the store pls??”

”SUGAR HONEY ICED TEA WHERE ARE YOU😩😩🤯🤯🤯”

”Joe, it’s been a day.”

He has so many photos of you in his camera roll

You are his lockscreen😔💓

The ceo’s of amazing instagram photos, whether it be you wearing a burger king crown at Burger King or You guys kissing on a boat with the Italian sunset on a private boat

Captions would be could “my favorite fairytale is our love story” or “yasss queen slay it!”

It’s cringey but god Joe is so adorable

A combination of a child and gentleman ALL IN ONE

All of his friends are like “you guys HAVE to be dating!’

It’s suppose to be nothing more than an arrangement right?

I mean the two of you were living with eachother and he dropped all of this other sugar babies for you

The two of you are master chefs minus the one time Joe burned mac and cheese and set the stove on fire

Also not to get smutty but the sex between you two? Like

Straight up RAMMING to sweet pillowtalk

Anyways Joe being your sugar daddy would definitely not be a bad thing at all😘

Always exchange those “I love you’s” 💕✨

Ben Hardy-

When first seeing Ben on your sugar daddy app, you were 100% intimidated

But upon meeting him, this tough dude was a PUPPY🥺❣️

On the first date he bought you flowers and gave you a hug

“Y/n, right?”

“That’s me!”

“I just wanted to say you look stunning, love.”

You were wearing jeans and literally smiled so much

You know this date was going to go VERY WELL NOW😩✌🏽✨

Instead of a fancy restaurant, Ben took you to a stroll around London

Whatever clothes you wanted? He got it

Whatever cafe you wanted to stop at? Buy all the tea/coffee and pastries you want

Hotel? Trivago

The two of you walked around the city, hand and hand as you got to know eachother

You ended up walking around the city for five hours up until midnight

You laughed and talked about thousands of things

In confusion, you had to see Ben again

As Ben walked you back to your place, you smiled at him,

”I’d like to do that again.”

”Call me when you want, y/n.”

So your “dates” became more frequent

Ben had the best ideas for dates

Dinners at small Italian places, walking around a museum, or just sitting in his place and watching mindless television

He made sure to spoil you

With gifts, literally and figurreitly

Sex was a large piece in your arrangeemnt

But it was not the only thing in your relationship

And it was!! Amazing!!

”You’re so fucking beautiful” as he would kiss your forehead and dive straight into it 🥺😳

Not only could that man be A BEAST but an absolute sweetheart

Everyday you looked forward to not only getting paid by him, but just talking to him for hours on end

He would stay up for hours just to talk to you, whether it be about your lives or anything

and that ladies and gays is a dedicated MAN

No matter what, Ben always found a way to touch you

He always had his hand on the chair behind you or your thigh

You guys would have pillowforts and nerf fun battles together

It would always end with a cuddle session

Frankie would be skeptcial but love you!!

You guys got so close that he took you on a trip to the greek islands AND PROPOSED!! LIKE!! YES!!😌😌😌

LIKE YES POP OFF MISTER BEN HARDY

[nsheetee]

pairing: prince!yangyang x princess!reader genre: fluff, angst, medieval au (but not really), royalty au word count: 4.4k details: female reader, some cursing, other nct/wayv members as characters (jeno is kind of a douche), duel scene (mentions of blood/weapons), inclusivity notice; to the best of my awareness, I wrote this without mention of reader’s height, weight or skin/hair color. summary: yangyang is not pleased about being forced to marry you, the princess from the next kingdom over who is widely unliked. yangyang never expected to fall in love at first sight, and never expected to fight to the death for you, either. 

the kingdom of wheyshen needs wheat

they always have, ever since the time that the kingdom boundaries were drawn between wheyshen and encity

not just wheat, but metal and fabrics as well, which were made in high quality by the people of encity as time went on and the separation between the two kingdoms widened

for several decades, wheyshen traded with the lee kingdom from far away

it became hard to transport goods, especially during winter and when the rogues in the forests would interfere with the shipping

so, one of the first things that kun did when his father handed him the king’s position in the kingdom was to strike up a deal with the neighboring kingdom for the highly necessary products

due to the complicated past of the two kingdoms, and because kun was willing to do anything to make the lives of his people easier, the deal was struck on one condition

the prince of wheyshen would have to marry the princess of encity

and kun knew he was about to get an earful from his little brother when he told him the news

“what?!” yangyang almost threw his chair back as he stood up, “who gave you the permission to marry me off to some stranger??”

“the divine right to rule directly from the gods,” kun states monotonously, “and dad”

“I don’t care about the gods, they can go pull themselves out of their own asses. I'm not getting married.”

“you are. you don’t have to do it, like, tomorrow but you will get married to their princess.” kun explains 

he moves closer to yangyang’s desk where he’s currently standing, tearing off grapes from the bowl of fruits on the desk and starts popping them into his mouth

“I heard their princess is a witch.” yangyang mumbles through his hand that’s supporting his cheek

kun gives him a blank stare, mouth filled with grapes, “she’s not a witch.”

“how do you know? have you ever met her?”

“no,” kun stops eating, “but if she is, wouldn’t you be the person to think it’s cool to have a witch princess as a wife? she could, like, make potions for you and stuff.”

“that’s not the point.” yangyang whines, dropping back down into his seat, “she’s not even liked by her own kingdom because of all the rumors around her. people haven’t seen her since she was a baby.” yangyang whispers the last part

“you sure do know a lot about your future wife already.” kun laughs

“the prince’s club talks about her a lot.”

the prince’s club is a group of all the prince’s in the area, not minding any kingdom boundaries or past histories

kun was once a part of the club, he knows what goes on during their meetings and what is talked about during the club’s horse rides

he’s 99.9% sure everyone is just over exaggerating

“well, you’ll be the first person to see her and find out for yourself. their whole family is coming over to sign the final contract in a few days.” kun puts his foot down on the matter

“I hate you.” yangyang says in a cutesy and high-pitched manner

“I hate you, too, demon child.” kun replies back as he walks out of yangyang’s study, “and don’t think even about running away or I'll chain you to your bed for the next few nights.”

“kun.... don’t say it like that.”

the few days between kun’s conversation with yangyang and the arrival of your family goes by quick, and pretty soon, yangyang is standing outside of the front doors of the wheyshen castle waiting for you

his family aren’t the only ones out here

there are servants, noble men and women, and knights who have all gathered this morning to catch the first glimpse of you 

your carriages are like a parade through the front yard of the castle, and finally they all stop and the driver of one carriage opens the door

first steps out the king, your dad, after that the queen, and after that their oldest son, who is next in line for the throne

yangyang remembers his name is doyoung; he has never met him personally, but he heard that there is a very big stick up his ass

yangyang wonders if you’re like your older brother

everyone holds their breath when another hand pops out of the carriage, covered in a glove and grasped by your brother’s grip

he helps you step out, and the whole lawn of people greeting you gasp in wonder as everyone sees you for the very first time

you are the definition of a princess

the aura around you, how you hold yourself and how you hold a strong gaze with the people around you shakes everyone with curiosity and adoration 

yangyang doesn’t even notice what you’re wearing or the tiara on your head, he can only see the gaze you send him as your feet delicately touch the ground

murmurs rise out of the crowd but quickly end when your family moves closer to yangyang’s, people dropping down to their knees to bow at royalty

your father politely greets kun, exchanging some words of congratulations to kun’s new position as king 

there’s some more greetings exchanged between queens and yangyang’s father as he sits in a chair, too frail to stand up, but yangyang is only looking at you

warmth seeps into his chest and down to his stomach, like a flood of feelings he has never felt before

the flood covers his heart and makes it beat faster

it’s a scary feeling, but so exhilarating and addicting, as if yangyang is riding his prized race horse as fast as he can go through the fields behind the castle

the chatter between your families dies down and the attention suddenly turns to you two, making yangyang even more nervous

if you’re feeling any emotion similar to the ones that he’s feeling, you’re hiding it pretty well

yangyang feels kun lightly push on his shoulder and it effectively snaps him out of his reverie 

“I'm pleased to meet you.” yangyang can barely get the words out of his mouth, feeling like peanut butter is stuck to his tongue 

he reaches forward and gently takes your gloved hand in his, kissing the top of your knuckles, looking up at you afterwards

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” with your angelic voice and your soft smile towards him, yangyang feels like he just got KO-ed

his head is fuzzy and he’s sure he looks like a fool with his jaw slacked and gapping at you

however, both families start to move inside before yangyang can really process his embarrassment 

people on the lawn start to scatter, still trying to get one good look at you as you walk side by side with yangyang into the castle

he almost jumps out of his skin when you talk to him, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him

“I heard you like horseback riding?” you ask, and yangyang can feel himself heat up

mentally, he’s beating himself up for reacting like this to a girl

he’s been around PLENTY of girls, but something about you is so highly and elevated that yangyang can’t help but fall into your palm and cozily stay there

“y-yeah. I do.” he answers simply, but the words felt like they took hours to think of and leave his mouth

“I do, too! we should go riding tomorrow after brunch.” you propose

“how about we go riding for brunch? we could have a picnic.” yangyang suddenly remembers a spot in the mountains where the sun isn’t blinding and the breeze is cool during this time of year

and then he realizes he just asked you to brunch and made plans with you as if you didn’t just meet 5 minutes ago

he heats up again, suddenly remembering who you are and who he is, and questioning how in the hell you can have him in a vegetative state in one minute and absolutely head over heels for you in the next

“sounds like a date!” you send him that smile of yours once again

yangyang trips over his shoes, sliding along the castle’s tile floor before quickly picking himself up again and walking forward as if nothing happened

(you try not to notice his fall, biting back a laugh)

yangyang can barely sleep that night, and when he does fall asleep, the moon is already lowering in the night sky

maybe that’s why yangyang is almost late to your brunch date

he’s running out of his room, pulling on his riding boots and practically launching himself around every corner of the castle

he runs into the kitchen and thanks the cooks who hand him a picnic basket (he’s moving too fast to see them roll their eyes at him)

sliding into the barn, yangyang breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn't see you waiting for him, taking a second to catch his breath

a second is all he gets before you open the barn door, looking around the place and then at him

“oh, you’re already here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” the apologetic tone you use makes yangyang shake his head

“no, no. believe me when I say I just got here.”

after preparing your horses, you follow yangyang out of the barn and through the backyard of the castle until you’re no longer on the property

you ride through a small forest, over some fields, and then up one big hill before stopping and tying your horses to a nearby tree

laying down a blanket and the food yangyang picked up earlier, you begin eating brunch

and it hits both of you at the same time

you’re alone

in the middle of nowhere

together

yangyang, no matter how awkward the air around you begins to feel, can’t help but think that you really are so, so beautiful

these types of thoughts are new to him

maybe it’s because he knows he has to marry you one day, and his brain is tricking him into making this easier?

yangyang doesn’t have time to think further when he realizes he has been looking at you and you caught him in the act

“oh, sorry,” he panics, “there’s a bug on you.” he swats the imaginary bug off of your shoulder, mentally applauding himself for his quick thinking

that is, until his cuff catches on your sleeve and he’s left leaning over the food, tugging his wrist while trying not to rip your clothing

he begins to laugh nervously, eyes switching from looking at you to your sleeve before your hand covers his own

he stops moving, he stops all laughing, he doesn’t even think he breathes when you carefully pull his cuff off of your sleeve and let go of his hand gently, letting him fall back onto his side of the blanket

“I-I’m sorry, I just, I—” yangyang sighs at his own stuttering

he realizes he doesn’t feel like himself

why is he trying to shape himself into something he’s not when he’s around you

he decides that stops now

“honestly, I'm not sure how to act around you.” yangyang begins, watching how your face turns to look at him, “you’re my fiancé, but I don’t know you at all. I don’t even want to marry you.”

yangyang says the last sentence timidly, but bewilderment replaces the timidness when you sigh in relief

“that’s good because I don’t either.”

“wait, really?” yangyang perks up

“yes, really. I’ve lived my whole life without a fiancé, and one day one just falls into my lap. that’s how deals work with kingdoms, and that’s how I've been thinking about you for the past few days, just as a deal my dad is making with your brother. no offense, really, you seem like an awesome guy, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now.”

you add on that last bit as a second thought, but yangyang caught the gist

somehow, your words make him relax tenfold and he doesn’t feel like someone else is talking and moving for him

however, there is that one part of him that aches when you call him “just a deal”

yangyang decides to deal with it later, taking things one step at a time for now

“my brother threw this onto my lap, too. it makes me less lonely knowing that I'm not the only one who’s feeling this way.”

“is your brother an uptight micro-manager with a stick up his ass?”

“yes... is yours?”

“yes!”

the more yangyang talked with you, the more he realized how similar you two are

you both loved horseback riding and pranking your older brothers

you both loved painting and eating the left over pastries that the kitchen is about to throw away

yangyang found out that you’ve been studying ever since you were little and that you wanted to be well-versed in as many subjects that you can be

and you didn’t judge yangyang when he honestly told you that he has no idea what he wants for his future

and he appreciates you for that

soon, the sun rises over the top of the sky and starts to sink back down towards the horizon, and sadly your “brunch” ends

“I'm glad we got to know each other better.” yangyang said as he rolled up the blanket you were sitting on

“me too. I'm glad I'm not being forced to marry someone who’s snobbish or boring”

yangyang laughs at the weird compliment, but that pang in his chest returns

forced...

is it bad that yangyang doesn’t feel like he’s being forced anymore?

is it bad that yangyang could.... willingly marry you?

he doesn’t feel trapped or like he would involuntarily be doing something

.... but do you still feel that way?

did the day you spend with yangyang not change your mind about your relationship like it did with his?

yangyang thinks about that the entire ride back to the castle, with secret side eyes to you and a heart that has unexpectedly sunk 

the next morning, the two royal families gather for the signing of the contract 

kun and your father are sitting at the table in one of the rooms in the castle, the two pieces of paper in front of them as they discuss the last terms and conditions

you’re standing next to yangyang and your mothers are standing only a few feet away

your brother is standing on the other side of yangyang; everyone waits patiently and silently as the kings do business

yangyang’s thoughts are still scrambled from the previous day, and he stares at the floor with his eyebrows screwed together

“are you okay?” you whisper from next to him, causing yangyang to jump slightly

“yeah, just tired.” he lies, and it makes you tilt your head at him

just as it looks like the kings have come to a final decision and they grasp their quill pens to sign the contracts in front of them, the doors to the room burst open, kun’s right hand man running into the room

“your highness, it’s the lee kingdom, they’re here.”

everyone in the room has just enough time to look at each other in perplexity before a group of your guards and the third royal family, the lees, walk into the room

king lee taeyong leads the way, along with his son, lee jeno

at the intrusion, yangyang feels you grab onto the back of his jacket, making him look at you to see uncomfortableness and slight fear in your eyes

“what’s this?” kun stands up from his chair, looking from king lee to his own right hand man to your father

“you are not legally allowed to sign that contract.” king lee states, producing a piece of paper and setting it on the table before your father 

“according to this contract, your daughter cannot marry anyone other than my son, jeno.”

your father picks up the contract and reads it over, scoffing afterward

“this contract was created by our great-grandfathers.”

“it still applies to today. my son and your daughter were destined to marry each other before they were even born.”

while the three kings argue about the validity of such an old contract, yangyang feels you tug on the back of his jacket

he turns around to see the look of fear and uneasiness still on your face

“please, do something.” you're plea stuns yangyang, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to process your request

“like what?” he finally gets out

yangyang is just a prince, practically a nobody in this room when there are three kings and two soon-to-be kings here as well

“I can’t marry him.” you step closer to yangyang, you're dress pressing against his legs and your grip on his jacket tightening, “please, I just can’t.”

yangyang only realizes now that your fear is not from the situation currently happening in the room, but rather from the prince that stands by the entrance

lee jeno

tall and muscular and smart

maybe it would be better for you to marry jeno

yangyang feels a burning at the bottom of his stomach at his next thought, but it’s no doubt that it’s true:

you fit as jeno’s wife better than you fit as yangyang’s

you’ll be a queen one day if you marry jeno, but with yangyang you’ll only stay a princess

“why not? he’s better than I ever could be.” your eyebrows furrow for just a moment at yangyang’s words but you shake your head furiously

“he’s been trying to get me to marry him for years. I don’t care about what he has to offer, I don’t want to marry anyone.”

yangyang has to take a moment to feel pity for you

you’re being pressured into marriage from all sides when you don’t even want anything to do with matrimony

yangyang remembers what you told him the day before, that you’re glad you’re being forced to marry someone like him

although the words don’t sit well with him, he’s taking them and running with the idea that you’d rather be with him than with jeno

“we need to break up this contract, it’s no longer relevant with my kingdoms current needs.” yangyang hears your father declare as he tunes back into the conversation

“we can’t just break a several decade old contract because you don’t like it anymore. we’ll have to do it properly; either a trade, a rewrite, or a duel.” king lee states

“I'll duel.” yangyang speaks up without a second thought and jaws drop as everyone turns to look at him, “I’ll duel lee jeno.”

“huh?” jeno glances at his dad to try and figure out how he just got himself into a duel

“yangyang.” kun gives a deadly glare to his younger sibling, a que to sit down and shut up, but as always, yangyang never listens

“If I win, the old contract is destroyed, if jeno wins, it stays.”

no one speaks, only turning to look at jeno for his acceptance of the deal

when he nods, the three kings disperse and kun orders the guards to get the courtyard ready for tomorrow’s duel

if yangyang thought his sleep a few nights before was bad, that night’s sleep was even worse

yangyang and jeno have been in the prince’s club for the same amount of time and have known each other for years

yangyang knows how good jeno is at dueling

the cause of his tossing and turning was not for the fear of getting hurt or nerves of not breaking the contract

it was mostly about how stupid he was to suggest to duel one of the most skilled princes in the area

the next day, yangyang is in his tent, an assistant helping him put on his protective gear when you walk in

yangyang dismisses the assistant and turns back around to put on his gear himself

you take small steps to him, clearing your throat

“thank you for doing this. you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” yangyang is reminded of the core reason for his actions:

you

and because he still gets that warm feeling whenever he’s around you and thinks of you, he pushes his nerves aside and turns to look at you

“will you help me put this on?”

you nod and step closer, helping yangyang secure one of his forearm guards 

“you’ll be okay... right?” you ask, your voice is full of jitters and you glance up at him for a second

“uh... well... jeno is pretty good at dueling and I..... have only done it three times before—”

“what?!” you yell, making yangyang jump 

he’s never heard your voice at that volume before, and now that he takes a good look at you, you seem less composed than you usually do

“how can you agree to a duel with jeno when you aren’t experienced?”

“I am experienced... I have three fights under my belt.”

“did you win any of them?”

“... I won experience...”

his answer makes you sigh, and yangyang tilts his head

“are you worried?”

“yes.” yangyang’s heart does a backflip in his chest, almost jumping out of his throat in the process, but he quickly reminds himself about what the reason for your worry could be

“I-I mean... you don’t have to. I'll make sure one way or another that you won’t have to marry jeno.” 

“that’s not what I'm worrying about right now... I don’t want you to get hurt.” yangyang feels like he’s about to pass out

you’re worried.... about him

he feels a rush of adrenaline fill him from head to toe

he thinks he might be able to do anything for you right at this moment

“I kind of made you do this, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“hey,” yangyang gently takes your hand in his, stopping you from fiddling with his forearm guard, “whatever happens is not your fault, I made the choice to do this, so it’s my responsibility all the way to the end.”

you and yangyang share a moment of silence; he thinks that was probably the most grown up thing he has ever said

if yangyang thought his heart was done jumping for joy, the feeling is not yet over

you reach into your dress pocket and pull out a handkerchief 

it’s plain white, but your initials are stitched into the corner in purple thread

you tuck the piece of fabric between yangyang’s forearm guard and his sleeve, tying it around his wrist so that it doesn’t move

“you have my luck. please, yangyang, be safe.” and with that, you walk out of the tent

he feels like a new man when he walks out to the courtyard, sword in one hand and helmet in the other

he’s almost blinded by the adrenaline and thoughts of you from just a few minutes ago

he feels like he actually has a chance of winning this duel

however, once his helmet is on and the duel starts, yangyang faces reality

no matter how much adrenaline and hope he has, he still sucks at using a sword

his arm seems to weight a lot more than just a few minutes ago and jeno seems to be moving a lot faster than yangyang has ever seen him move before

the sound of metal clashing against metal and grunts leaving yangyang’s mouth fill the area, what seems like everyone from the castle watching on to see who’ll win the fight

yangyang thinks he’s about to lose until jeno retreats, letting yangyang take the offense and move closer

soon, yangyang has the upper hand and, by some miracle, jeno’s sword flies out of his hand, landing on the grass several feet away with jeno surrendering to yangyang

cheers and claps break out at the ending of the duel, but yangyang can’t hear anything, his shock too great to process what just happened

he drops his own sword, instead shaking his hand with jeno’s 

jeno accepts the gesture, pulling yangyang closer by his hand and leaning into his ear

“have fun marrying y/n.” he chuckles lowly, walking away from yangyang to join his father

yangyang’s rush from victory and accomplishment die down as he watches jeno’s back retreat

.... did he just throw the duel? so that he won’t have to marry you?

yangyang can’t believe that jeno would do something like that, but the smirk on his face as he sends yangyang one more look tells him that maybe yangyang’s guess could be right

yangyang’s attention pulls away from jeno to you, already making your way down to where yangyang is standing, feet almost running to get to him quicker

you meet him in the middle of the courtyard, slowing down as you reach him 

not knowing how to show your worry and affection, you grab onto his forearms and turn him to you, looking him up and down

“you’re okay?” you ask, pleading with your eyes for him to tell the truth

“yeah, I'm fine.” yangyang laughs; you don’t let go of him yet

“good. I don’t want my future husband to be hurt by me before we’re even engaged.” you try to joke, but yangyang doesn’t find it funny

instead, his smile sobers up and he opens his mouth a few times, trying to get the words stuck in his throat out into the thick air between you two

yangyang didn’t want to deal with his feelings right now, but he’s not sure if he’ll get the courage to confront you again

“so, I know you don’t want a relationship and that you feel forced into marrying me right now... but maybe one day that can be different?”

you swallow and keep staring at yangyang in response

“maybe... we can go on some more horseback rides, or maybe we can paint together someday?” yangyang’s confidence starts to fade when you’re not saying anything in return, your face still void of emotion

“I don’t know... I think I can learn to be a good husband.” yangyang finally gets his thought out, gaze falling as he kicks the ground lightly, waiting for your response

“yeah... I think I can learn to love you, yangyang” your response makes yangyang lift his head, the dumb smile on his face matching yours

maybe it’s okay that yangyang only partially won this game 

in the end he’s the real winner, whether he truly won the match or not, because he gets to marry you

[katnissmellarkkk]

Summary: At the Seventy-Fourth Reaping for The Hunger Games, volunteering is outlawed, thanks to a tribute four years prior. Because of this, when Katniss’ sister Prim’s name is chosen from the bowl, there’s nothing she can do but hope that Peeta Mellark, past victor and now Prim’s mentor, can somehow bring her sister home alive. (Obviously heavy on Everlark.) 

AN: Hi! I don’t really have a big author’s note or anything--at least, I don’t think I do? We’ll see how long this trails on--but this is one of the fics I’ve been working on for a while. It’s multi-chaptered so there’s gonna be a lot more coming in the future, but this first chapter is honestly a little similar to the original book, with some (significant) deviations here and there, but after this first chapter, this story becomes extremely different from canon. I gotta thank, obviously, @rosegardeninwinter​ for a). making me my pretty lil banner and for b). reading the million, unpolished, unedited screenshots of my drafts that I’m sure ya’ll got tired of really quick. And also for encouraging me to write this in the first place. And also, I gotta thank everyone who liked and reblogged the lil story edit I posted months ago for this concept. It really encouraged me to write this concept out. (I’m talking about this edit right here if you forgot or never saw x). Okay, anyways, I’m talking too much but thank you! Also link to this story on AO3 [x].

Chapter One :

I stare out into the sky, introspective, as I wait for familiar footsteps to approach. The footfalls of my hunting partner, my friend even, Gale, still remain absent, despite our longstanding agreement to hunt on Reaping Day, no matter how hot it is, or how scarce the game, or how worried we may be deep inside.

Of course, how could a couple kids from the Seam not worry about Reaping Day? At least a slight bit, deep down?

Reaping Day. The day that decides the almost absolute fate of a lucky—as our assigned escort, straight from the Capitol itself, so proudly proclaims—boy and girl.

We're District Twelve. The smallest and one of the poorest districts in the country of Panem. There's an almost guarantee that whoever gets their name picked from the reaping bowl, even the strongest eighteen-year-old boy in the district, will have an almost sure fate of death. Likely before the number of tributes drops below twenty.

Tributes from our district almost never fare well inside the arena.

Almost never.

We have had a few winners in history, two of which are still around, but a few out of seventy-three games isn't inspiring much hope in anyone today.

The wind breezes against my arms, prickling the hair at the back of my neck, and I'm struck by the memory of being out here, in the forbidden territory of the woods, outside our district limits, when I was just a kid. When my dad was the one hunting and I was just along for the ride. Just along because I wanted to be with him. When I used to blindly trust him and my mother, when I thought he'd live forever, when I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the Hunger Games. When I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the world in which we live.

When I was eleven my every illusion was shattered violently. Almost as violently as the death in which my father must have endured, underground in those mines, as they exploded.

I remember hearing the alarm at school, blaring so cacophonously over the speakers that it shook the schoolrooms themselves. I remember blindly grappling through the scurrying bodies of my classmates, until I found my way to my little sister, Primrose. Her room was completely empty, but she still remained, sitting behind her desk with small folded hands, waiting for my arrival with excessive patience.

I'd always coached her on what we'd do, if there ever should be a mine accident. I made sure she knew the drill, just as I knew it. Like the back of my hand. Like a prayer or a lullaby. I could recite it in my sleep. Because my father had just as sternly instilled it into me.

I wove my way through the chaos of bodies and white-hot panic, towing Prim only inches behind me by the hand, as the kids from town lingered in the hallways, their classic, bright blue eyes large and their voices all quivering, and as the kids from the Seam dutifully made their way to the nearest exits, hoping and praying and begging silently that it wasn't their parent who had been hurt. Hoping the accident hadn't taken what was typically the sole provider in most households, here in the poorest section, in the most impoverished district.

Prim and I must have not hoped hard enough, because we learned almost immediately upon finding our mother, who was now immobilized with grief, her characteristic gentle smile eviscerated and in it's place, a blank stare, void of any life at all, that our every fear from hearing that alarm were coming true.

My mom was supposed to get a job. She was supposed to find a way to provide for us, to take care of her two daughters, who were grieving her husband just as much as she was.

But instead she lay in bed day after day. On the good mornings, maybe if Prim begged and pleaded, she'd move to a chair, in front of the fireplace and stare at the flames with the same vacant expression that had replaced the loving, kind woman who'd raised us.

The money from the government, the minuscule amount of money given to keep us afloat until our mother found work, ran out. The meat our father had hunted, the plants he'd saved, ran out. The food we had the small luxury of sometimes buying—or more times than not, trading for—quickly ran out.

And our mother still did absolutely nothing.

I take a deep breath now and try to force myself to forgive her. Forgive her for not being strong enough to keep going, forgive her for not caring enough about her own children to keep them alive in the face of her grief, forgive her for being so in love that losing my father had almost killed her too.

I know it's what my father would want. And I know it's something I can't let myself do. Because if I let her off the hook, it's like saying it's okay that she almost let Prim wither away to nothing. Forget me. I will never forgive her for almost taking my little sister away from me.

Our mother did absolutely nothing until Prim's ribs were prominent, until my stomach was nearly hallow, until our cheekbones were so blatantly obvious you could count them from down the road.

And all my fears, all my resolve, to keep the three of us together as a family, went out the window. There was nothing left to do, but wait for me and Prim to be taken to the Community Home, with the other orphans or kids from unsafe families. Kids who still remained too thin, who's eyes told stories no ear wanted to hear, who still wore bruises upon their skin like freckles from the sun, who looked nearly worse than the corpses I encountered every winter, while walking from the Seam to town. Those corpses were the unlucky ones who'd actually starved to death, who had sat down to merely rest, because they had no substance to carry them any further, and somehow never got back up.

On that day, at eleven years old, living in the Community Home sounded no worse than living with the immobilized shell that had once been my mother. My resolve to hold out until my birthday, until I could get the tesserae that would feed my family for an entire year, was shattered by the harsh raindrops pelting me from the grey, unforgiving sky.

I vaguely heard the baker's wife, the mean-spirited woman, with her deeply embittered, hostile blue eyes that somehow seemed black, scream at me, calling me names, shooing me from her property.

I'd simply wanted to rummage her trashcan, so desperate for any small morsel to take back to Prim, any motivation to take even another step forward, when I felt her rough and calloused hands shove me away.

I toppled over, my legs already weak and shaky from lack of nutrition and substance. My depleted form laid on the ground, my eyes bleary from exhaustion and the shivering wind and rain.

The witch went back inside the bakery as I scarcely conjured up the will to sit upright. I was beyond done. The fighting to even gain a fraction of my mother's awareness, to get something, anything, to feed myself and my starving sister, to even stand up, became overwhelming and I felt the last bit of my resolve crumble from deep inside.

Let them come and take me and Prim to the Community Home. I don't care any longer. Let them come.

Out of the corner of my eye, a boy exited out the same backdoor the witch had gone through. He was carrying a bag of trash in his hands and my famished mind focused on that first, focused on what could be inside the contents of that bag, on what a baker could potentially be throwing away, before I realized the boy was in my year at school. I knew him, or at least, I knew his face. But he stuck with the other blonde-haired, fair-skinned town kids and I didn't even remember his name in that moment.

In hindsight, that's absolutely hysterical now.

But he evaporated as soon as he'd appeared and I closed my eyes and let the rain drown me, hoping perhaps I could be swallowed up within the downpour itself. Hoping that perhaps I'd never have to face the reality that I was out of options and I had nothing of subsidence to take home.

But then I heard a clatter and a clang and the sound of a scream. It was her, the witch. She was screaming and calling someone names my own mother had never even uttered in my lifetime.

I mentally prepared myself for her to come back outside, to drive me away with a stick or a knife. Or possibly even a hot, scorching prong.

But it wasn't the witch. It was the boy, the one from my year. The one I thought went back inside after taking out the trash, that I believed didn't even notice me before.

He was carrying bread. Two loaves, in fact. The crusts were black and burned and the welt across his face told me, without a doubt, that he was the target of the witch's insults. That he was the victim of whatever clanging noise I heard.

And though I was the one starving to death, I didn't envy him having her for a mother.

I remember vividly, the most crystal clear image I have of this day, the boy checking and making sure the witch's attention had been claimed elsewhere. And then, without even glancing in my direction, he tossed one loaf of bread to my feet. Seconds later, the other followed.

He didn't hesitate to head back inside after that, and I've spent more time in these last four years than I'd more than likely care to admit, wondering what possessed him to commit such an act of kindness. No one was kind for free, I'd learned by that point.

And yet, as I shook myself forcefully out of my stupor, and carried the loaves back to my house at the edge of the Seam, I had no explanation for his simple act. I had no basis to explain why he would help me, when no one else ever had.

The next day, I saw him at school. I passed by him in the hallway, and saw his eye had now blackened, his cheek welted, but somehow he still managed a joyous smile. He didn't notice me then. He was surrounded by his friends. Like always, he was surrounded by a constant crowd.

He is, after all, one of the most charming and sweet people Panem's ever known.

Later that day, when I was about to walk home with Prim, who was excitedly chattering about the leftover bread awaiting us on the kitchen table, the bread I'd brought home the night prior that had filled our stomachs for the first time in months, I caught the boy looking in our direction. My grey Seam eyes met his baby blues for a microsecond, before he looked away. I snapped my gaze downwards too, embarrassed, when I caught sight of a dandelion.

It was that moment that a bell went off in my head. That I saw how I could survive, how Prim could survive. How, through the things my dad had taught me, I could keep me and my sister alive.

After that day, I could never stop associating the boy with the bread, the one who gave me hope, with the dandelion that reminded me I wasn't doomed.

I never stopped associating him with his simple act of kindness, even when he became famous for some much less appreciable acts.

And I never stopped kicking myself for failing to thank him, for saving my life and my family's life, before he was whisked away, to a land far from Twelve, called the Capitol. When he later returned, now a part of a much more elite social class, thanking him for his kindness became even less of a possibility.

A girl from the Seam had no business seeking out a boy from Victor's Village. Even if I did have the guts.

Though he isn't exactly in good company here in Twelve, seeing as the only other person who holds the same title is a drunken, middle-aged man who can barely form a coherent sentence most days and lives like a hermit by his own volition.

My thoughts are interrupted by the quiet—almost as quiet as mine, but not quite—steps of Gale.

"You're late," I state without turning around, pulling the cheese from my pocket. "You're lucky Prim's cheese held up under the sun."

But Gale pulls something even more impressive from behind his back. "This will probably go nice with it," he says and I almost gasp.

Fresh bread is so rare in our district, generally reserved for the Peacekeepers and perhaps a merchant who is having a good day. Here in the Seam, fresh bread from the bakery is as common as new school shoes.

Gale updates me on his day as we split the bread and cheese and have our own version of a small feast. He'd gotten to the woods early, while I had been still at home, and shot a squirrel to which he traded for the bread.

"The baker really went for that?" I ask in disbelief. The baker was a subdued, large man, who resembled all three of his sons quietly strongly, and was one of my dad's best customers. Sometimes I think he still trades with me and Gale out of respect to my dad's memory, but a simple squirrel for a loaf of fresh bread isn't common.

"I think he was feeling generous this morning," Gale suggests a little snidely, his bitterness leaking through. "Besides. It's not like the Mellark's need the money they ask for bread. They could easily skim off their precious son and he'd probably never notice."

Gale has a special affinity for hating anyone and anything associated even minimally with the Capitol. He was lost his father in the same mine explosion I lost mine in. But whereas I don't let myself get too worked up over the inequities between the town and the Seam, and especially between us all and the victors, Gale takes a special pride in fuming over the things he cannot change.

I don't mind listening usually, since neither of us can speak our minds in public or even within our own homes, out of fear small ears will pick up on our words and repeat them elsewhere. But today, I just don't have the energy to be a sounding board.

Instead I take a segue towards a slightly different topic, but one, without a doubt, weighing on both our minds. "Prim has been having nightmares of the reaping," I murmur solemnly. "She's convinced they're going to call her name."

Gale shook his head, his demeanor becoming more subdued now. "Least Prim's name is only in there once, Catnip. Rory had to take tesserae this year."

I nod silently at that admission, knowing what it must have cost him to even allow his little brother to take additional risks of being called. Knowing it meant his family of five must be even more hungry than he leads on.

We don't say much more after that, only lingering in the woods long enough to catch some additional game from what I've already collected, and hurry back to town to trade.

As we walk back to the Seam, having divided up our goods evenly, Gale murmurs suddenly, "I might be able to stomach the idea of Rory's name being in that bowl six times if we were still allowed to volunteer."

I bypass his words the best I can. I don't want to think about what Gale must be going through, making himself sick with worry, not for himself but for a sibling in which he considers himself responsible for. And, as it happens once in a lucky moon, I feel grateful that my tesserae is still sufficient for a family of three, and I don't have to worry about Prim the same way. Her one entry pales in comparison to the thousands that are piled in that bowl.

Still, the silence between us as we walk is deafening and I can't take it any longer as we come closer to my house. "At least then, you'd get to see the Capitol," I say lightly, as a means to brighten his mood, even just a little.

At that, Gale rewards me with a humorless smirk. "Generous of the president, isn't it? To allow us district people to experience the great Capitol firsthand while they slaughter our family."

And it's true. Just a few years ago, it was allowed to volunteer as tribute in the place of whoever's name got chosen, as long as you were the same gender and between twelve and eighteen on Reaping Day.

But four years ago, when a twelve-year-old boy volunteered for his seventeen-year-old brother, an outrage sparked across the entire country. People are never happy, in any district, to see a twelve-year-old be chosen for the games. They're the youngest, the smallest, the most innocent, and never in history had a single one made it past the Final Fifteen in the games.

So when one volunteered, the country wasn't pleased in the slightest. However, like always, the anger was contained by Peacekeepers in a matter of weeks, and promises came pouring out from the Capitol that a change would be made after the games that year to ensure never again would this situation occur.

And it never again could. Because three days after the Seventieth Hunger Games, President Snow announced that all volunteering, from that point forward, was officially banned.

This new law is even more ironic when you realize that the twelve-year-old volunteer from that year became the youngest victor in the entire history of the games.

Still, I suppose the president was feeling generous that day, and he threw in a bonus treat for us in the districts. Now when someone is chosen from the reaping bowl, though their fate is sealed definitively when their name is uttered, they get to choose one family member to take on the train ride to the Capitol with them, to get a special viewing of the games with the mentors and the sponsors and the past victors, to get to experience the wonder that is the mysterious Candy Capitol firsthand.

However, when all is said and done, twenty-three family members must ride the train home alone to their districts, with their loved one in a casket beside them. The thought chills me to the bone and I shiver as me and Gale wish each other good luck. We probably won't see each other again until it's time for the customary dinner we all try to put on with our neighbors to celebrate, even minimally, that we've survived another year unchosen.

Prim is already wearing my first reaping outfit when I enter the house, though it is a bit large on her. She's slimmer than even I was at Twelve, despite her having months on me when I attended my first reaping.

I get ready quickly, if only because I want to spend time with her before we have to go. I protect Prim in every way I can but I'm powerless against the reaping.

Still, she's only entered once and that's as safe as anyone can get from being chosen. It's almost unheard in the Seam to be that safe from the games.

But my sister never did appear like she fit in here anyway. Her golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes resemble the merchants, not the Seam, and her and our mother stick out like sore thumbs next to our neighbors.

Our mom is restless now, busying herself with preparing the food for our small feast tonight and braiding Prim's hair and then mine.

I still haven't fully forgiven her for leaving us when we needed her most, but I also can't imagine how difficult it must be to have to send both your children off to be potentially chosen for an absolute death. And I let her hug me as I guide Prim out the door.

Attendance is mandatory for all in the district, but the ones viable for being chosen and those just watching don't typically enter together.

I guide Prim by hand into town, the walk feeling longer than it did with Gale. Perhaps it's the trembling twelve-year-old I'm towing, or perhaps I'm more afraid than I'm even admitting to myself.

After all, unlike my sister, I have twenty slips with my name splayed across this year. It's not as a bad as someone like Gale, who has forty-four chances of being called. But it's not as safe as the kids from town, who likely only have to worry about a handful of slips with their names.

Its not that they're rich by any standard, but they get by better than those in the Seam. Even if they're hungry, they're not at risk of starving, and no one is going to sign up for tesserae unless there is no alternative.

A year ago, my mother let it slip once over dinner, just out of the blue really, that my father had always sworn no child of his would be in need of tesserae.

I shake my head, as if to physically rid myself of the reminder. I don't want to dwell on what my father would feel if he were here. I don't want to be reminded how different things would be if he hadn't died.

I help Prim sign in and then drop her off, as gently as I can, with the other girls her age. At the last minute, she pulls on my hand, yanking me back to her with surprising force.

"Prim, I have to go stand with the sixteens," I say as she leans up and kisses my cheek.

"I just wanted to say I love you," she whispers softly, her big blue eyes so terrified, and then she steps back into the crowd of twelves surrounding her.

I sigh softly and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. She truly is the best of our parents. Kind, smart, level-headed. She's funny and resourceful too, even if she can't take hunting animals herself.

She is the only person I'm certain that I love. And just about the only thing that keeps me going most days.

As I make my way to the sixteens, straightening my mother's dress on my hips, I check the clock. Only five minutes before we start. Before our lovely Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, reads off two names in her distinctive, afflicted accent. Before two kids know they're never coming home again.

This place isn't much. But it is all we've ever known, and no one wishes to leave it.

As more people crowd in, I begin to pick up an excited buzz in the girls surrounding me. Already knowing what I'll see, I crane my neck just the same, to peer up at the stage ahead.

Sure enough, I see exactly what I knew I would.

There's four chairs set up on the stage. One for Effie Trinket, because no one from the Capitol could ever bear to stand for more than three minutes at a time and she must have a seat to relax in before she calls out the names and sends two of us—a lucky boy and girl, as she says it—to the slaughter.

One of the other chairs is occupied by Mayor Undersee. A man who looks like he's been beaten down by life too many times as it is and would rather be anywhere but here. His daughter is my age. She sits with me at lunch, since Gale is two grades ahead of me and we rarely see each other at school. We make polite small talk but other than that, I barely know anything about her, and by association, her father.

However, it's neither of them that's stirring up the buzz within the crowd—admittedly, more so with the female portion of the crowd—and it's definitely not Haymitch Abernathy, who's stumbling on stage right at this moment. He managed to win the Fiftieth Hunger Games and I still can't imagine how. He's a paunchy man my mother's age and he's never sober, on the rare time he's even seen in public. Today is no exception, as he flops onto a chair gruffly, and murmurs something unintelligible with his eyes closed.

No, the murmuring, the now batting eyes and coy smiles, the soft vibrato still traveling within the crowd, are all because of the last guest of honor, walking upon the stage right behind his old mentor.

Peeta Mellark.

Winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games. Youngest ever. District Twelve's first and last volunteer. The twelve-year-old that changed the rules for the entire country.

The youngest mass murderer in history of Panem.

And now one of it's most beloved celebrities.

Peeta is smart—brilliantly smart—and he's always been charismatic. Even at twelve, he had the Capitol audience, as well as every single soul watching on television at home, eating out of the palm of his hand.

It doesn't hurt that at sixteen, he's become quite a looker. His blonde curls, his blue eyes, those long lashes and bubblegum pink lips. His fair, perfect skin that has not a blemish in sight. His toned, muscular body and devastatingly genuine smile that no one can help but fall in love with.

He's also the boy who saved my life. The one who committed the simple act of kindness, knowing it would cost him, to help me.

I never thanked him. And now I never can, as I'm sure he has zero memory of me. After everything else that's happened to him since, after the last four years of living as a Capitol darling, as one of the country's most cherished victors, he'd never remember the starving eleven-year-old he threw some burned bread to in a rainstorm.

But I remember him. I don't know if it's what he did for me that day or what he did for his brother only a matter of weeks later, but something about Peeta Mellark crawled under my skin four years ago and ever since, I've never been able to completely shake the feeling I get inside upon seeing him.

I break my gaze away, refusing to stare at the boy, who I will always accredit as the one who saved my life. I venomously refuse to gawk at him, like every other girl in the district.

He rarely comes out of his house when he's home here in Twelve, and I know the overzealous amount of attention he receives just by going to his parents' bakery has to be at least a part of the reason. Unlike Haymitch, who has lost his clout and his appeal with age and with deterioration, Peeta has only gained more and more notoriety as the years pass by.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in Twelve, outside of a few outliers like Gale perhaps, who'd say a negative word about Peeta Mellark.

Of course, rumors about his random and long stretches spent in the Capitol itself are always floating around, no matter what time of year it is, but they don't affect his public persona or anyone's opinion of him. He is, after all, the most valuable figure Twelve has and perhaps the only thing we can take any pride in.

Effie Trinket steps up to the microphone just as I turn my head away from the stage. "Welcome!" She greets, so vivaciously, so brightly, I can't imagine it even resonates in her head that she's just moments away from announcing two of our impending funerals. "Welcome, everyone! To the reaping for the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!"

I can't even bear to listen as she prattles on, with too much confidence and dignity for someone dressed in every neon color known to man, speaking in such a peculiar accent, with a thickly painted face that is so blatantly visible to the every eye here today, even in the back row. Doesn't she realize how ridiculous she is to us? Doesn't she realize how wrong it is to preach about the morals and disciplines of the Capitol, in such a prideful voice, when they're the ones about to murder us for entertainment, and in repentance for a long over war that only a few elders can still remember?

As I advert my eyes, my gaze travels once again to the back of the stage, and I'm more than a little surprised to see Peeta Mellark with a similar expression as mine. He, too, is shifting his eyes elsewhere, away from his own escort, looking sick to his stomach.

Of course, it still can't be easy for him, even with his own games four years in the past. He was a literal child when he volunteered and it's fact that he didn't understand what he was getting himself into when he took his brother's place that fateful day. His innocence was stolen as soon as the countdown ended and talk still circulates, even in the Hob, that he wakes up screaming most nights, calling out the names of fallen tributes. Though those words are not given much weight in the Seam, as we all know, people get bored in this tiny district and bored people begin to spew lies whenever encouraged.

Effie continues, in a long overdone mantra, one I could recite in my sleep, the same one she spews every year, that two kids from every district must be chosen to battle to the death in a new and invigorating—one of her favorite words—arena, in order to pay for the blood shed during the rebellion and war, in order to ensure we'll never again even think to rebel.

It would almost be easier to swallow, this whole charade, if the people sent from the strange land of the Capitol would just be honest and blunt with us. If they'd just admit that they see us as lesser than, as animals or beasts of some sort, as less than human beings. It'd be easier if the Capitol spokespeople would just outright say, "we'll take your children, we'll starve your district, we'll ruin your homes, we'll broadcast the deaths of those you love most, all to keep you too powerless to fight. In order to make sure you never are able to stand strong, we have to kick your legs out from under you first."

Instead of being honest though, Effie Trinket is reiterating the Treaty Of Treason, in a tone so serious that it takes all the self-control possible to stop several boys standing in the fourteens from bursting out laughing. Her accent and a serious tone do not mesh well together.

Once she's done though, my heart automatically skips a beat. Because, after four years of standing in this square, I know exactly what's coming. "Ladies first!" Effie announces and I feel a bead of sweat glide down my forehead, both from anxiety and from the overload of heat. Reapings always take place in the start of the hottest month of the year.

Standing in my mother's well-crafted dress, one of the most luxurious pieces of clothing we own, only makes my perspiration worsen, as the dress was clearly made to keep the wearer as warm as possible.

Our district escort makes her way over the bowl containing the names of every girl eligible to be picked in the entire district and I feel myself take in a breath involuntarily.

There's twenty chances she's going to call out my name. Twenty chances I'll be sent to an almost imminent death. Twenty chances Prim will grow into her teen years, and later adulthood, without a sister.

The gut-churning fear I'd repressed all morning, in that moment, overtakes my entire being, curling up like a ball in the pit of my stomach, as I do my best to listen on baited breath, somehow expecting to hear my own name spoken through the raucous microphone for all to hear.

Don't be me, I whisper inside my head, more fearful than I'd ever admit out loud. Don't be me. Please, don't be me.

And, as it turns out, it's not me.

Instead it's the name I never in a million years thought I'd hear. The name I believed to be so safe I didn't even allow myself to worry about her.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

[jeongyunhoed]

A year after the events of Past-Present-Future, Lee Mirae, Choi San, and Jeong Yunho receive a mysterious envelope containing photos and notes about the deaths of several individuals. The deeper they go into the case, they find that the entertainment industry hides a very dark secret.

Group: ATEEZ Pairing: Yunho/OC Genres: It’s a little bit of: adventure, romance, mystery, crime, fantasy, action. Things to note: It also features mentions of other idols/artists: Junhong (Zelo), Dean, Chanyeol, Enhypen etc.

Superpowers AU if it wasn’t obvious as well.

T/W: Themes of death, violence, demons, cults, blood, use of weapons and/or firearms, use of drugs (both recreational and medical), implied/referenced assault, implied/referenced suicide, cussing

A/N: Sorry for taking so long in updating this, but here we go, the penultimate chapter.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

The seven of them were gathered around Yeosang in his living room, giving him looks as if  prompting the vampiric-looking male to explain everything. Yunho was growing impatient, thinking of Mirae and what may have happened to her, what was happening to her at that moment. Mingi was playing with his lighter while Seonghwa was fiddling with his bow and Hongjoong had the blade from his sleeve out. 

“Madame Seo has been around for years, and when I say years, I mean decades, you could say she’s almost a century old even if she looks the way she looks,” Yeosang began. “I met her at the time of the Gwangju uprising. She was an adviser to Chun Doohwan, you could say she whispered things in his ear that led to that coup that killed so many people,” He looked down as he recalled that day. 

“She always believed in that kind of purge. It was her philosophy as much as it was Ose’s, the demon in hell she worships. Anyway, she came to my office to discuss investments in some businesses she planned on starting, the brothel, the fashion label, those things. She knew who I was, Ose granted her the gift of reading minds, she figured out I was a mutant, who lived much, much longer than she did,” 

“She still can’t read Mirae’s mind even if she tried,” San muttered, shaking his head. 

Yeosang glanced at him. “It didn’t take me long before I realized...Madame Seo was developing affections for me. Of course, she wasn’t my type. I was...shall we say, married at the time, to the woman who was the mother of my children, who turned you all into what you are right now. When my wife died, she made her moves on me, and each time I rebuffed her…” 

“Smooth,” Yunho gave him a look. 

“Yes, yes she was. Years later, I find out that she came between Na Youngji and Ji Myungsoo, became Myungsoo’s mistress and later on wife, and then that actress died. It was easy for me to find out because she told me. She told me Ose had granted her seven children, seven demon children, to do her bidding, so she could become his queen,” 

Hongjoong raised a hand, looking puzzled. “Hang on, you’re telling me that Madame Seo, that woman we’ve been looking for, is the queen or wife or whoever of this Ose demon?” He said. 

“Yes. Yes, she is. But of course she needed a human husband, enter that basketball player. Madame Seo had Youngji killed, of course, just to get to him, but when he figured out who she really was, she had her children kill him too. Fast forward to today, where she has everyone, including those in government, wrapped around her finger. Madame Seo’s ultimate plan was to get everyone to bend to the will of Ose, while she prepares for his ascent,” 

“And the reason why she’s got people under her control is because of those girls she sends their way?” Wooyoung asked, and he nodded. “She’ll expose them if they rat her out,” and Yeosang nodded again. 

“So, a bunch of middle-aged men going this far to get laid? They’d actually sell their souls for this?” San looked disgusted. 

“Sex, power, and influence. Madame Seo can give it to them too. Protection from the media and from the press. There’s a reason why there are dating scandals getting exposed just when someone in their circle is being looked into by the authorities, ever wonder why Yang Tan gets those tips of celebrities supposedly dating each other?” Yeosang glanced at Yunho and San. 

“...Mirae did say Hyuk would tell her most of those were publicity stunts,” San muttered. 

“There you have it, gentlemen, I’ve explained all I need to explain.” 

“What does she hold over you?” Yunho asked before Yeosang could walk off. 

“She knows I killed that Park Enterprises CEO,” Yeosang replied. “Among other things.” 

“Those other things are?” Yunho pressed again. “You might as well say it. If you’re going to help us, better come clean with what she’s holding over you.” 

Yeosang gave him a look. “She also knows I killed the rest of the people in my bloodline, including my wife. And now, she’s also jealous of Mirae.” 

“Why?” Jongho questioned. 

Yeosang pursed his lips. “Why do you think she’s jealous? Think about it.” 

“Because you like her,” Wooyoung figured it out, scenes flashing in his head the more he looked at the vampiric-looking male. “But she doesn’t like you the same way.” 

“I am fully aware of that, but that is no one’s business but mine,” Yeosang stood up straight. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to retire for a bit,” and he walked off.

~

Yunho caught Yeosang in his study later that day. He was sitting by the window, drinking a glass of milk from a champagne flute. “For someone like you, I would’ve thought you took a liking to alcohol,” Yunho spoke as he stepped inside the room. 

“I’ve been there, drank everything that was ever invented. Eventually it gets nauseating to drink even a drop of it,” Yeosang mumbled without looking at him. “But I do have a supply. Would you like some absinthe? It’s not as strong as you might think, as long as you put in some water over a cube of sugar.” 

The vampiric-looking male gestured to the table nearby that had a tall, green bottle that was labeled in its name, the yellowing sign made Yunho realize that the liquor was likely older than him. “I guess I could have some,” He said. 

Yeosang stood up and went over to the table, pouring some of the green liquid into a small glass. He placed a flat piece of metal over the glass, and a sugar cube. Yeosang carefully poured water over the sugar cube, letting it melt through the piece of metal until it reached the drink itself. From green, the drink became a cloudy yellow and Yeosang handed it over to him. “It’s best that way.” 

“Thanks,” Yunho took a sip, his nose wrinkling at how strong the flavor was. He wasn’t a very experienced drinker even if he could hold his own. 

“Has...Mirae told you about how we met?” Yeosang asked all of a sudden, gazing out the window. 

“She met you when she found out you killed that CEO of Park Enterprises,” Yunho replied. “What about it?” 

A smile crept up on the vampiric mutant’s face. “Nothing, I just keep thinking about that day. She came to the house of Park senior, inspected the body, argued with her brother, but if you’ll forgive me for saying, I was more entranced by her than I was with Park senior’s daughter,” He said. 

Yunho raised a brow, curious as to what he meant. “And?” 

“While she put up quite a front around me, I knew how she really felt,” Yeosang muttered. “Like many women before her, I could feel her shudder every time I was near, I could see her staring at my lips whenever we talked, as if she was begging me to kiss her, to ruin her like those women before her.” 

Yunho stared at him, unable to speak, but Yeosang went on. “I had her cornered in my room one of those days she was doing a search for evidence. I could say I could cut the sexual tension between us with a knife. You’re probably wondering why the fuck am I telling you this,” a satisfied smile crept up on Yeosang’s lips, a giggle escaping him. 

“Now you’re asking me that?” Yunho could feel his blood boil. 

“I’m telling you this for the simple fact that Mirae needs someone who would take care of her. Treat her like the queen that she is. She deserves that much, you know? I can, can you?” Yeosang looked over at him. “You don’t deserve her, Jeong Yunho.” 

“But you do?” Yunho put his drink down on the table with a thud. 

Yeosang smirked. “You already died in Morocco, you had your chance with her. It’s over, Yunho.” 

“No, no it isn’t,” Yunho got up. “She’s with me and she always will be.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Yeosang chuckled. “She’s been playing you the entire time, in fact, I could still hear her moans whenever I remember her under me-” He stopped when he saw the prongs of Yunho’s sai pierce through his heart. 

“You’re not picturing anything,” Yunho was glowering at him, watching the vampiric male fall to the floor, turning into a pile of dust. “Anymore.”

~ 

Yunho’s eyes shot open and he sat up. He had been sleeping on the large couch in Yeosang’s living room. Seonghwa and San were sleeping on the other sides of the couch, Jongho was dozing off on the lounge chair near the window, while Mingi, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were sharing the mound of couch cushions on the floor, including the cushions from Yeosang’s study. 

He couldn’t believe what he dreamt. He knew it wasn’t true. Yunho reminded himself that it was probably the dust he inhaled from those documents talking again, but he still couldn’t help but think that maybe the feelings he felt in that were genuine. Mirae had already told him, reminding him that she never felt anything for Yeosang except for the fact that she respected him. 

Yunho knew he didn’t have a reason to be jealous, but those things the shorter male was taunting him in his dream struck a nerve. Maybe he had some resentment towards Yeosang, maybe he was jealous. It was making him miss Mirae and wonder what was happening to her, he couldn’t hear anything from her even at this hour. 

“Good morning- or should I say, good afternoon to you,” Yeosang said quietly upon stepping in, looking a little disapprovingly at the rest of his groupmates on the floor. “Well, better here than in the guest room, I’ve got Egyptian cotton sheets that should not and will not be ruined.” 

“Afternoon? What time is it?” Yunho asked. 

“It’s five p.m., one hour until the television special of that idol group,” Yeosang replied. 

That made Yunho almost jump out of his seat. “Then we don’t have time to waste,” He took one of the cushions to hit San and Seonghwa awake. “Get up, get up, it’s time.” 

Yeosang stared at them. “By all means, move at a glacial pace, the sense of urgency is astounding,” He rolled his eyes. 

“What have you been doing then?” Yunho shot him a look. 

“For your information, I was attending meetings. I own this building. I have a business to run, two and two makes four,” Yeosang replied. “...And I saw Mirae.” 

Yunho’s expression fell. “...And?” 

“As unconscious as the last time I saw her. Madame Seo has been trying to keep the idol group from feeding on her, they already tried last time, remember?” Yeosang said. “She only showed me a video of her.” 

“Okay then, we’re back to where we started. Where are they keeping her?” San asked this time. 

“I-I don’t know,” Yeosang shook his head. “The background is somewhere I can’t figure out.” 

Yunho raised a brow at his answer. “Oh really?” 

“Yes, really,” Yeosang glanced at him. 

The rest of their groupmates were already at their feet. “Did Madame Seo give you the video?” Wooyoung suddenly spoke. Yeosang shook his head. “Are you sure?” He asked, but froze as he began to see flashes of what the vampiric male was talking about. 

Mirae was strapped to a metal chair unconscious, with bits of dried blood on her nose and lip. Wooyoung kept blinking as if he could see everything twice as fast. There were slabs of bodies and thick metal doors. He turned to the rest of them. “I think I know where she is,” He said. 

~ 

The van had pulled up in front of an old hospital building that afternoon. “Alright, we’re here where Wooyoung said it was,” Yunho looked over at the back. Yeosang stood out from the rest of them with his striped suit and walking stick. “This is the place, right?” 

Wooyoung looked out the window. “Yeah it is.” 

“The morgue?” Hongjoong asked. 

“Yep, that’s where I have a feeling they’re keeping her,” Wooyoung muttered. “I can’t be sure, but it’s worth looking.” 

“Then what are we waiting for? We have to get in there,” Jongho took his nunchaku out while Mingi opened the door. 

All of them got down from the van, Yeosang looking especially conscious and walking behind them as they opened the doors to enter the morgue. The cold air hit them as they stepped inside, noticing that no one was around, not even a security guard. “Strange how there isn’t anyone watching,” San said. 

“It’s a morgue, I don’t think anyone would think of coming in here unless it’s to identify a body or turn in one,” Hongjoong shrugged as they scattered to look around. “Well, we’re here now, where would she be?” He turned to Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung felt around the doors, partly realizing how he had quickly taken to this ability of his to sense memories and events. Yeosang observed them, the rest of them pausing when he approached the column of three doors on the left. He ran his walking stick on the side until he tapped the doors. “If I remember correctly, yes,” He turned the handle of the middle door clockwise, the entire column of doors opening to reveal a secret passage lit with torches. 

The air coming from behind the doors felt damp and there was a faint whistling of the wind in the darkness that was ahead of them despite the torches illuminating part of the way. “Funny how there’s so much more to this place than we thought,” Mingi mumbled, keeping his lighter on as the eight of them approached the passage. 

“This is the way?” Yunho said. 

“Yes, at least from what I remember, I haven’t been here in decades, well, she invited me down here,” Yeosang replied simply, immediately taking a step inside when San pointed the arrow of his harpoon gun at him. 

“Alright then,” Yunho nodded, making the rest of them follow him down the dark path. The door closed behind them. “Who is she trying to have her children summon from above?” He suddenly remembered what Yeosang told them before they had fallen asleep. 

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything about who she plans on having summoned here, other than Ose’s ascent,” Yeosang said over his shoulder. “Probably sore at me even more now,” He muttered under his breath as they walked down the slightly rocky path. 

The further they walked, the more torches began to light up. They realized that they were walking down a spiral path, and as they were approaching the bottom, they found a crowd of people whose appearances and identities were obscured by the crimson red robes and hoods they were wearing. In front of them was a woman whose face was obscured with a shawl but was cloaked in the same crimson red robe. 

“...It’s a good time to come up with a plan now,” Mingi muttered to them as they stepped back, hiding themselves behind the pillars. 

Yunho stared at the formation of the hooded figures. “Where is Mirae?” He asked, glancing over at Wooyoung, who was watching the figures move. 

“Is she not here?” Wooyoung mouthed, and Yunho shook his head, having a better view of the area. “...Oh no.” 

“She’s in N Tower, damnit!” Yunho realized, frowning in frustration. 

“We don’t have much time, some of you go with Yunho to N Tower, the rest of us will try and tear these guys apart,” Hongjoong suggested. “For Mirae, and the world.” 

“For Mirae, and the world,” They nodded. 

“Leave Madame Seo to me,” Yeosang removed the concealed dagger from his walking stick again. “You and San better go. Tell Mirae I said hello.” 

The spikes were protruding from Jongho’s arms and legs again, and he stifled his cries of pain as it pierced through the fabric of his clothes. 

“Ose, Ose, Ose, Ose,” The crowd began to chant as they bowed several times in front of the woman. 

“Try not to kill anyone, try,” Yunho said to them. 

“You and I both know that cannot be guaranteed,” Yeosang gave him a look. “Death is sometimes the answer.” 

“That’s why I said try,” Yunho muttered. 

“Something tells me we have visitors in our midst,” They heard Madame Seo say, stopping the bowing that was happening in front of her. “Yeosang? My love? Is that you? You seem to have brought friends with you, why don’t you come out?” She asked in a honeyed voice. 

Yeosang stepped out, sheathing his knife in his walking stick again and looking calm. “I couldn’t resist coming back here, you showed me this place once before, I seem to vividly remember us having a good time here for 24 hours, was it?” 

“Oh I remember that very well, you showed me how strong you’ve gotten, and the many other moves you’ve learned from where was it? The Kama Sutra?” He could tell she was grinning. Madame Seo looked over his shoulder. “Come out, come out, I love me some strapping young men with weapons. Don’t bother teleporting though, you’ll find that it can be quite useless in here,” She looked at Yunho rather pointedly. 

Yunho stepped out from the shadows, making the rest of them follow suit while several suited men appeared to take each of them, bringing them to the middle of the room. “Where is Mirae?” He asked. 

“Oh my, you’re- Why you’re Mirae’s love, aren’t you? I’m not surprised, a handsome young man like you and-” Madame Seo paused upon giving him a once-over. “An immortal, no less.” 

“Again, where is Mirae?” 

“She’s somewhere safe, depending on how you look at it,” Madame Seo chuckled. “So, at last, here in front of me we’ve got the ones who have been looking for us, after quite a few warnings not to. By now, knowing what you know, there is a place for you in our circle, Ose would be pleased to have warriors like yourselves leading the charge in what would be the biggest purge on Earth.” 

Madame Seo snapped her fingers, and a few hooded figures entered carrying small bowls of the gold powder towards her. “I’m sure you know what this is, right? It can either release your inhibitions, or release your worst instincts, depending on who you are,” She felt the powder between her fingers. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Yunho was glowering at her. “Where is Mirae?” 

“Impatient, are we? Well, contrary to your thinking that she may be at N Tower, she isn’t,” Madame Seo shook her head and removed her shawl. 

The hooded figures bowed and the rest of them stared at her. Madame Seo’s face was feline-like. “You missed me going down on you, didn’t you?” She glanced at Yeosang, who remained calm. She clapped her hands, and the figures carrying the bowls of powder backed away. “Reveal to them the future,” She said to them, and they pulled down on a lever. 

The ground underneath them began to turn, the surroundings changing into what looked like an old operating room used by doctors to perform demonstrations of procedures. There was a space at the back that was lined with several stones that had markings. Yunho felt like collapsing upon seeing Mirae. 

She was strapped to a kind of chair that had needles pointing at her nape, her wrists, and her spine. Mirae was wearing the familiar electric collar, and she was beginning to regain consciousness. “Remove the collar,” Madame Seo instructed, and the two hooded figures followed, taking the collar off of Mirae’s neck with a few clicks. 

A few more hooded figures began to appear, pushing a television monitor that featured the special of the idol group. “This handy dandy machine that your Mirae is strapped to, can extract the essence of who she is, her mutant essence.” 

“If you plan on killing her, fat chance,” San spoke. 

“Oh I know that. Mirae’s just going to go through a lot of pain, spinal injections are painful after all,” Madame Seo smiled. She took out a small vial full of murky, red liquid from her pocket. “We’ve tested out the initial extraction from her by the way,” She held it up in front of them. “Painful, very, very, painful. But unfortunately more is needed.” 

Madame Seo put the vial in a compartment of another machine that resembled a laser that was pointing at the marked stones. A loud whirring sound was coming from the machine. Before they could take a step further, they were suddenly held back by the hooded figures behind them, while the rest that were watching began to chant again. 

Mirae’s eyes were opening and she gaped upon seeing Yunho. “Yunho- Yunho!” She yelled, struggling to get out, only to be overpowered, feeling her strength wane even further than the first time. 

“Mirae!” Yunho struggled as well but to no avail. He was soon caught in a headlock, with his hands behind his back. “Mirae!” 

An evil smile played across Madame Seo’s features and she turned on the machine that Mirae was strapped to. Tears were falling down the sides of Mirae’s face as the needles began to pierce through her wrists and then her nape. Mirae let out a scream, her eyes beginning to glow red but fading just as quickly. 

The television special was beginning and they could hear the music playing. The idol group had begun to perform their first two songs. “Mirae!” Yunho kept yelling, trying his hardest to break free. “Mirae!!”

“It’s so easy to get the best of people when they care about each other,” Madame Seo watched them with an amused expression on her face. “Increase the pressure,” She instructed the figures, who turned up the speed level of the needles drilling into Mirae. 

She turned to San and blew the gold powder at his face. San’s eyes were turning red and he collapsed, squirming in his place at what he was beginning to see. She blew the gold powder onto the rest of their faces. Madame Seo began to chant the familiar Latin phrase they had heard. The beginning is the end is the beginning. Yunho tried to maneuver himself to break free, taking a deep breath when the gold powder was blown into the air. 

“Mirae dead, Mirae dead, and it’s all my fault, all my fault,” San looked shaken, eyes still red. “Mirae dead, Mirae dead, it’s all my fault…” 

“San! Mirae’s not dead!” Yunho managed to finally overpower the figure that was restraining him, only to be thrown to the other side of the room due to the figure’s strength. “San! You’ve got to help me!” He called out, trying to wrestle with the figure who had grown larger. “All of you! Help!” 

Wooyoung quickly unsheathed his katanas, keeping his nose covered as he attempted to slice through the figure that restrained him, who brought in a sledgehammer. “Shit,” He collapsed, squirming as the dust had gotten to him as well. 

The music played louder, and Yunho could see a beam of light coming from the background of the idol group that was dancing. Mirae’s screams were dying down, her strength declining, the more the needles penetrated her body. “Mirae!” He rushed forward only to be knocked away by Madame Seo herself. 

“I think not, Yunho,” She said, getting into a stance. 

“Oh I think so,” Yunho charged at her.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Epilogue

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

          “Alf?”

           “You alright, love? I heard you getting a bit heated over the phone.” Alfie was at the sink, gently washing the sand off Ezra’s feet. Father and son had been out on the beach that morning watching the waves and the sea birds overhead.

           “I was on the phone with Tommy.” Ella set Sofia down so she could go to Alfie.

           “I figured that much.” He replied sympathetically.

           She walked around to stand by the sink. Ezra gave her a gummy smile, squirming a bit because of the cold water on his toes. Ella grabbed a towel to give to Alfie so he could dry Ezra off. “I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

           “About what, love?” He asked, shutting off the sink and taking the towel from his wife.

           “Just…everything. Tommy was going on and on about how things used to be. I mean-I understand where he’s coming from. He spent all that time looking toward the future, looking at what he could have instead of appreciating what he did have. Now he regrets it because look at everything that’s happened. We’ve lost so many people. But…I like what I have now. I can’t look to the past anymore.”

           “I hate to say it, but your brother’s gone and dug his own grave, hasn’t he? He wanted power and this is what it gave him. The man doesn’t know when to quit.” Alfie wiped off Ezra’s feet even though the toddler gave him a bit of a hard time, kicking his legs and giggling like mad.

           “But we know when to step away, right?” Ella asked quietly.

           Alfie set Ezra down so he could dry his hands off. “What’s the matter, love? Talk to me.”

           Ella wrapped her arms around herself, thoroughly shaken by the world around her. When once she had been so fearless, she was becoming aware of how chaotic things could become. “I’m scared that we’re going to lose everything we’ve worked for.”

           “We’re not gonna lose anything. What are you afraid of losing?” Alfie wasn’t looking to ridicule his wife, he saw the fear in her eyes, and in turn, it worried him. One of his primary jobs was to comfort her.

           “I’m afraid of losing you, I’m afraid of losing the twins, I-I’m afraid of losing my sanity, Alfie.” Her voice broke. “I never expected any of this to happen. Th-this has all gone too far and I can’t take it anymore.”

           “It’s alright love.” He embraced her, pulling her to his chest.

           “It’s not alright, Alfie. I’m not going to give you up because of the things Tommy does. But there are things in this world that I can’t stop.”

           Alfie was starting to pick up on the root of her worry. After all, Mosley was just one man. They could deal with individuals, gangs even. But when there was some sort of movement, with an unknown amount of people following? Well, they couldn’t exactly fight off the world, could they? Even if Tommy Shelby liked to think he could. “The world we’re living in, s’not ideal, is it? But there are more people who are willing to fight this than are willing to stay quiet.”

           “How do you know that?” She asked.

           “Because I fought in a bloody war for the sake of this country.” He reminded her. “I don’t doubt that we’d do it again if we’re threatened again.”

           “But they’re here, Alfie. There are people in Britain who would rather see you hung than fight for you.”

           There were things that Alfie could brush off. He could brush off her brother’s disdain for him. He could brush off the slurs that Darby was so fond of calling him. He could even brush off that he was shot in the eye. But he couldn’t brush off his wife’s concern for him. “What would you suggest we do then, love?” He asked softly, gently petting her hair.

           “I think we should just go somewhere else.” She whispered. “We can go to America, we can put this behind us.”

           “There are fascists in America, El. There ain’t a place on this Earth that’s pure.” He told her truthfully. “America might be further away, but it ain’t much different.”

           Ella couldn’t argue with that. She knew that it didn’t matter how far she went. It didn’t matter if she changed her last name from Shelby. She would always be involved in Tommy’s game. It was her birthright. Something would always bring her back.

           “Mumma.”

           Ella drew away from Alfie so she could scoop Ezra up. “I won’t lose them.” She whispered. It had been painful enough to lose her twins before they were even born. But to lose Ezra and Sofia after she had bonded with them? Ella knew she would never be able to come back from that.

           Alfie nodded. “Well, we’ve got more than enough money to retire. We can sell the bakery, sell the flat in Camden. We can stay here for the rest of our lives.”  

           “I’m scared.”

           “I know. It’s a scary world, but you know we can make it work. It’ll be alright. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

           For the next few years, Ella lived her life very removed from her family. That wasn’t to say she never saw them. She made a habit to keep in touch but wouldn’t involve herself in any business matters. She was vocal about Tommy’s mental state but there wasn’t anything anyone could do. It was all in his hands. And he continued on as the soldier he was.

           Lizzie and Polly confided in Ella often, if only to make sure they weren’t going crazy because of Tommy’s behavior. But they also respected that Ella was raising her own family and had more than enough good reasons to keep her distance.

           For the most part, she and Alfie remained at Margate with the children. Retired and happy to be retired, Alfie was content staying by the ocean. They returned to Camden for special occasions or to see friends and family. But Ella felt much more comfortable at Margate. Going back to London was just another reminder of the trouble brewing. There was unrest, not just in the city, and not just in the country. It was across the continent and Ella felt like everyone was just holding their breath, waiting for the powder keg to explode again.

           Outside of the city, however, she felt much more removed from it all. She could truly enjoy her life as being a wife and mother. She had gained the peace she had always looked forward to.

           As the twins grew, their personalities started to blossom and it was such a lovely thing to see.

           Sofia was a rambunctious little girl who loved the outdoors. One of her favorite things was to trawl the shoreline with Alfie by her side so she could find little sea critters in tide pools. Or sometimes she’d crouch in the garden, hunting for bugs and earthworms. A day without getting her clothes stained with dirt or covered in sand was not a day well spent in Sofia’s eyes.

           Ezra was on the shyer side. He became very bashful when talking to people he didn’t know well and would cling to Ella when they were visiting others in Camden. But he was curious in his own way. Often times, he would have long discussions with his father, simply asking endless questions about how things worked. Where the sun went at night, how did clocks know the time, how did the record player work, why did Cyril have a tail and he didn’t, how come birds fly, how big is the moon. Any little thing would pique his curiosity and he would rush to Alfie for information.

           Trouble was, Alfie wasn’t too sure how to answer his questions most of the time. There were some things he could explain, but most of Ezra’s questions were beyond his expertise. It was a blessing, then, that Ezra learned to read at a very young age. He absorbed books like a sponge and it was hard to get him to stop reading and go to bed.

           Their differing personalities positively enchanted Ella. Despite how difficult motherhood was, she was so happy to take the journey. Every day, her children surprised her and gave her another reminder of how blessed she was.

           It was a difficult balance, trying to keep her children safe while still allowing them to have a relationship with their kin. It was easier to have them around the people from Camden. They grew up with the other children of Ella’s friends and came to know the people they would consider like aunts and uncles.

           But with Birmingham, Ella was very cautious. She understood how easy it was to be swept up into the Shelby Company Limited. Her cousin Michael was a great example. Although raised outside of the family, once he was back in, there was no going back. Ella refused to allow her children to be roped in. Perhaps she was being over-skeptical of her own family. But she was willing to be over-cautious rather than let her guard down.

           Still, she allowed her children to attend parties and holidays with the Shelby family. It was tense, at least in Ella’s shoes. She watched her brothers like a hawk whenever they were around the twins.

~~~~~~~~~~

           One bright summer afternoon, while celebrating Finn’s birthday at Arrow House, Tommy came over to his sister.

           She was sitting in the shade, watching her children play with their cousins on the lawn. Cyril and Anthea were running around with them, just as happy. Alfie was talking with Polly a bits away. The two had grown a well-formed relationship of respect. Polly liked that he had taken care of Ella all those years and Alfie appreciated Polly’s sanity.

           Tommy took a seat beside his sister and pulled out a cigarette. He coughed a bit as he lit it.

           “Y’know, some people are saying smoking is bad for you.” She said. “Maybe you should cut down.”

           “Lots of things in life are bad for you.” He replied and took a drag from the cigarette anyways.

           “Charlie looks so much like Grace now.” Ella did everything in her power to avoid arguments at family functions. She knew there was no point, nothing she could do would change anyone’s minds especially Tommy’s.

           Charlie was kicking a football back and forth with Karl, trying to keep the ball from Anthea. He was so grown from the little toddler that he once was. He was nearly a teenager, had grown like a weed, and indeed was nearly the spitting image of his mother.

           “He’s been asking about her,” Tommy told Ella. “He knows Lizzie isn’t his biological mother, so he’s been asking about Grace.”

           “What did you tell him?”

           “That we lost her before he was old enough to remember her. I gave him all the photographs I had of her. I don’t know what else to do.”

           “I don’t think there’s much else you can do.” Ella shrugged.

           The siblings went quiet for a moment. Tommy smoking and Ella watching the children play.

           “Do you trust me, El?” He asked out of nowhere.

           “Trust you?”

           “Yeah.”

           She glanced over at him to gauge whether he was trying to get a rise out of her or not. But he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. “Why are you asking that?”

           “Because it seems like anytime I’m near Ezra or Sofia, you’re looking at me like I’m about to kidnap them or feed ‘em to a lion.”

           She rolled her eyes. “Don’t even say that.”

           “So, you completely trust me, then? I’m just overthinking things, aye?” He challenged.

            Ella crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

           “You’re kin, Ella. They’re kin. Fuck it, even Alfie is kin by now. You really think I’m going to bring them harm?”

           “I trust that you want what’s best for everyone. I trust that all those years ago, you made a conscious decision to help this family. I trust that maybe you didn’t anticipate all of this, and if you had known maybe you never would’ve done any of it. I know you’re a good man, Tommy. I know the person you were growing up. I just…I wish you would quit this. I thought so many times that this would be the one thing that would make you stop. But every time, no matter what happened, you kept at it. I know that if you don’t stop, you’ll be killed. And if that’s something you accept then…there’s nothing else I can do.” She sighed heavily. “But I have to protect my children from that fate. I know you don’t want this for our kids. You said so many times that if we had children, they would never grow up the same way we did. We were supposed to be the ones to stop the cycle, Tom.”

           “I know.” He said in a rare tone of assent.

           “I’m scared,” Ella admitted, trying to keep her composure for the sake of the party. “I’m so fucking scared of everything in this world now, Tommy.”

           Tommy had always known his sister to be fearless. Now it seemed that motherhood had brought up new fears in her. Maybe because she knew what it was like to grow up poor in a dangerous neighborhood. She was familiar with guns before she even went to school. She’d seen death and violence at an early age. It was only a natural instinct to want better for her children. But it didn’t mean she had to have such a crippling fear of everything. “Things are gonna be alright, El.”

           “That’s what Alfie says, that’s what everyone says but I’m not blind!” She exclaimed. “I know that it’s only a matter of time ‘fore…”

           “Before what?” He asked gently.

           Ella shook her head. “It’s a cycle, Tommy, it’s always a cycle. Do you know what I prayed for every night while you and Arthur and John were in France?”

           Tommy could only imagine. She was so young back then. “I don’t-tell me.”

           “I prayed that you three would all come back home safe. And when you did, I prayed that you’d all find nice women and settle down. I prayed that you would all have good lives and be at peace. But then I saw you at the train station and I knew that would never happen. The things you saw over there, the things that happened…I know why you three changed, I get it. But I never anticipated what would happen after that.”

           “I know.”

           Ella looked down at her hands, almost too tired to continue going around in circles with him. Facts were facts and the past was the past. “Do you think we’re going to go to war?”

           Tommy nodded. “Yeah.”

           She swallowed and chewed on her lip. “And that doesn’t scare you?”

           What else could he say? His nightmares were growing more severe, the shovels were getting louder.

           “It terrifies me.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~

           After Finn’s birthday party, Ella felt a little more forgiving toward her family. Maybe if they understood her anxiety, she could trust them a bit more. She also knew that there was no use arguing with Tommy. Both of them understood what it felt like for their sanity to slowly trickle away. They understood what it felt to have the world on their shoulders. They were too alike to blame one another.

           One night, back in Margate, Ella was coming in from bringing Cyril and Anthea out. She shrugged off her coat and hung up the dog leashes. Anthea bolted to Ezra’s bedroom while Cyril hobbled down the hall. The bullmastiff was getting up in age but still had the same docile demeanor he had when she had met him for the first time in London as a pup.

           Ella gave the old dog a pat. “Good boy.” She said softly and followed him into Ezra’s room where Alfie was reading a bedtime story to the twins.

           “My armor is like tenfold…”

           “No, Smaug is still talking so you’ve gotta do the voice!” Ezra protested.

           Alfie chuckled. “Alright, alright.” He cleared his throat and began to rumble in a deep, menacing voice. “My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail is a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath…death!” He read from The Hobbit dramatically.

           Sofia and Ezra laughed, delighted by all the voices their father did for every book he read them. It was commonplace. Alfie always read to them even if he struggled with the strain on his one good eye and often got headaches.

           The eight-year-old twins were always insistent that he read to them, and Alfie wasn’t exactly complaining. He loved their rapt expressions as he read. Sofia often laid on the bed, petting Cyril or Anthea as she imagined the scene her father was describing. Ezra cuddled up close to Alfie in the crook of his arm so he could try and read along with his father. Sometimes he’d stop Alfie and point to a word he didn’t understand, asking for the definition.

           Sometimes, Ella would sit in just to spend those last few moments of the day with her family. But that night, it had grown too late.

           “It’s late, my loves.” She interrupted.

           Sofia looked up and pulled a pout. “Nooooo, mummy it’s not that late!”

           “It’s summer!” Ezra chimed in.

           “It is quite late.” Ella walked into the room.

           “Mum’s right.” Alfie dog-eared the page in the book and began to untangle himself from the children, Ezra on his arm and Sofia sprawled over his legs.

           “But dad hasn’t finished the chapter,” Ezra whined.

           “S’a long chapter, mate.” His father stood and helped him under the covers. “We’ll pick up on the rest of it tomorrow.” He promised. “Not much left of this book anyhow, don’t want to go storming through the rest. Best we take our time ‘n savor it, aye?” He scooped Sofia up so he could bring her to her bedroom.

           Ella tucked Ezra in and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight my love.”

           Cyril took his place in his bed on the floor of Ezra’s room. It was remarkable because the old dog liked sleeping in the little boy’s room. Ella guessed it was because Ezra spent so much time inside reading with Cyril snoozing beside him on the sofa. Meanwhile, Anthea chose to sleep in Sofia’s room. She was very fond of the little girl who always took her out for adventures outside.

           So, Anthea followed them as they brought Sofia across the hall. She hopped up on the bed and curled up by Sofia’s feet.  

           Alfie and Ella kissed her goodnight before retiring to their own bedroom.

           Ella sank into bed as Alfie got ready for the night.

           “Y’know, I like the voices you do too.” She commented.

           “Aye?” He chuckled.

           “Your dragon voice is very nice.”

           “Nice?” He grinned and tossed his shirt to the side. Striding over, he grabbed his wife’s ankles to tug her down the bed.

           She stifled a squeal and giggled. “Alfie!”

           “Hush now. Don’t go waking up the whole house.” He murmured in a low voice and began to creep up her body until they were face to face.

           “Or what? You’ll eat me up?” She teased; her heart started to flutter in her chest. After years of being together, Alfie still never failed to make her swoon. It felt like every night she fell in love with him all over again. Whether they made love or she simply just fell asleep in his arms.

           He laughed and captured her lips with his. One hand pressed into the bed while the other lightly grazed down her side before resting on her thigh.

           When he drew back, she wove her fingers into his hair and pecked his lips a few more times. “I love you, Alfie Solomons.” She murmured.

           “And I love you too, Ella Solomons.” He replied, looking down at her with so much adoration in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           August 1940, the Solomons family traveled out to Small Heath. The twins’ birthday had been a few days earlier but they were now going to celebrate with Ella’s side of the family.

           It was a strange time to be celebrating anything. The continent was at war yet again. It had been almost a year since Britain declared war and started to mobilize. Ella got horrifying flashbacks off the time her brothers had been at war. It was so difficult to fathom that they would live through a repeat of the Great War. But this time, eyes were turned to the next generation. The generation that had been too young to fight, now they were ready.

           Ella urged Polly to do everything she could to keep the Peaky boys off the front lines. But it was futile, not with how headstrong they all were, and not with the draft initiated.

           Now they could all only hope this war wouldn’t last as long as the first one did. They could only hope it wouldn’t be as gruesome and wouldn’t claim as many lives.

           “Erdington then Castle Bromwich,” Arthur muttered under his breath as he stood by the kitchen counter, drink in hand.

           “They’re trying to get a better target.” Tommy agreed with a grim look.

           “Enough.” Polly shushed the men, pointing a cake knife at them. “No talk of the war, not tonight. Let the children be children.”

           “Sorry, Pol,” Arthur mumbled.

           Of course, the war was on all of their minds. It was nearly impossible to ignore it.

            Polly brought the two cakes over to set in front of Sofia and Ezra. As she lit the candles, the family gathered around the table and began to sing Happy Birthday.

           Ella was ready with her camera to take a picture of them as Alfie stood behind them, with a proud look on his face.

           But the moment didn’t last long.

           A loud explosion rocked the very ground and was almost immediately followed by a high pitched siren that had become so common to hear in the cities.

           The men who fought reacted the quickest. Alfie grabbed Sofia and Ezra by the hand and hurried them to the cellar doors. Polly gathered the rest of the children as Arthur hurried them all along. Ella set her camera down on the table and blew out the birthday candles so they wouldn’t catch anything on fire. Tommy shut the lights off in the house, making sure everything was off upstairs as well.

           Once dark, he glanced out the window.

           “Tommy, c’mon.” Ella urged and grabbed her brother by the arm.

           The two headed downstairs where the rest of the family was hiding out from the air raid.

           They knew it was a possibility it was a false alarm. There had been dozens. But there was no telling either way.

           “Mummy!” Sofia wailed.

           “I’m here, I’m here.” Ella hushed her softly and gathered her into her arms. Alfie held her and the twins close, gently soothing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It wasn’t a false alarm. Bombs shook the city with such intensity that everyone in the cellar was praying silently or out loud. It felt like they were down there for days when it was mere hours.

           No one could sleep that night. In the morning, Ella left the house, she couldn’t listen to the radio anymore. She walked down to the Bullring and found it in ruins. The buildings had been gutted and ash was covering the ground.

           It was nearly impossible to fully comprehend. People around her stood and stared at the scene in shock as well. Some were crying, others were too lost to react.

           Ella was in such a state that she didn’t notice Tommy standing next to her for a good while. When she did, she glanced up at him.

           He saw the same scared little girl who asked her older brothers not to go to France. She was too afraid they wouldn’t come back. She was still there, the scared girl who was afraid of what war would bring her family.

           “I’ve got a few leads on houses in the countryside. Plenty of space for you and the kids.” Tommy said quietly.

           “We have Margate.”

           “Alfie wants to stay away from any city or town. Anything that might become a target. The country is the best option.”

           “You spoke to him?”

           “Last night.”

           Ella’s stomach was in knots. “Okay.”

           He nodded. “Stay in Margate until then.”

           “We will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie was still at the flat with the rest of the family when Ella returned. He was sitting by the radio with Arthur, both of them silent. Ezra was laying on the carpet, drawing while Sofia sat on Alfie’s lap.

           Arthur turned the volume down a bit when his sister came in. “Alright, El?”

           “Yeah, I think we’re going to go back to Margate.” She said quietly.

           Alfie nodded. “Sof and Ez go get your things, yeah?”

           The kids got up to gather their things as Alfie stood up from the armchair. “Did Tommy talk to you about our plan?”

           She nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

           “That’s okay?”

           “We need to keep them safe.” She concluded. “Anyway, we can.”

           “Okay.” He kissed her forehead and rubbed her shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

           It didn’t take long before Tommy bought the Solomons a place in the countryside. A lovely little home with a sprawling garden and plenty of space for the twins and the dogs.

           He saw them off at the train station. Most likely, it would be some time before they saw one another again. Knowing Ella, she would keep her children in the safest possible place until they were guaranteed safety in the outside world. Tommy knew he had to respect that.

           “Bye Uncle Tommy.” Ezra and Sofia chimed off, each giving him a big hug.

           “Be good for mum and dad, aye?” He said gently. “Make sure you give everyone a call once and a while, okay?”

           “Okay!”

           “Tom.” Alfie gave his brother-in-law a hearty handshake. “Thanks, mate.”

           “Of course.”

           Ella swallowed her tears as she hugged Tommy next. “Thank you.”

           “I should’ve done this for you when you asked all those years ago. When you wanted to be free and safe.”

           “I never would’ve met Alfie if you did.” She pointed out with a tearful smile.

           “I guess so.” He chuckled and let go of her.

           “Right, ready then?” Alfie helped the kids up into the car of the train then held a hand out to his wife.

           She nodded. “Ready.”  

-The end

//Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this long! It was so hard to end this but I leave the rest up to season 6 and see how things go from there. Huge thanks to my tag lists. If you’re interested my masterlist of all my oneshots and series are pinned to the top of my blog and my requests are open.I’m currently working on a new Alfie series so stay tuned. In the mean time I have a lot of Alfie one shots with more on the way as well as plenty of Tommy content. 

Thank you again!

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PB Masterlist

[poptod]

Miscreation

Description: You're a magician in Ancient Egypt, but you have to keep your magic secret, as it isn't quite 'normal' magic. The youngest prince takes a liking to you.

Notes: i can’t believe i never put this up on this account??? its been written for ages i jus forgot about it. this is the story where piye is from! Word Count: 20k

As the world came to be, magic was instilled within it. It was up to humans to decide where that magic was though - and it was a line you simply couldn’t establish. It’s in the skies, they said, and in our souls. Others would say that it simply did not exist. It’s in the structures we build and the art we make, they said. But it intertwines in your fingers, and the future shines through blind eyes, and though you may not look it, magic runs through your essence. So, in all of Kemet, you were most likely one of the very few people who really knew what magic was.

The high priests and priestesses read from old books that gave shoddy and false potions, with spells and mixtures that did naught but smell awful. You knew, even as a child, that you would never turn down that path. Not only because the reading would be simply awful and very few would believe you, but because of your standing; a half blind, abandoned child in the desert, a cloth over their eyes and wrapped in silk, would never climb very far in life. However, under the protection of the man by the name of Adom who had picked you up, the unwanted child, you stayed in his shop, working for him, and generally living a pleasant life. He never had very much, but he was somewhat of a father, and had his own gift in magic.

“You were born with a gift,” he would tell you as a child. “Not many at all will understand it.”

The year you turned nine, Adom was put under the employ of the palace, as a private consort. His main job was to tell the future, to heal and protect, and in respect to your privacy, not once did he ever mention your own talents.

“In your own time,” he told you when you asked.

You stood behind your father, practically cowering, as the pharaoh spoke of his new duties. He prattled on for quite a while, but your grip on Adom’s skirt did not lessen. As he bowed, and made to leave to new chambers, the pharaoh halted him.

“What is that behind you?” He asked in a soft, and mildly intrigued voice. He leaned forward in his throne, resting his chin on his intertwined hands. You gulped, shrinking further behind Adom.

“This is my child, Piye,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you into the pharaoh’s vision. Despite your fear, you stood tall, keeping your eyes forward.

“Is it going to be staying with you…?”

Adom nodded a yes.

He turned to his wife, sitting next to him, and spared a quick glance at his two sons to his right. The couple whispered to each other for only a minute, before the two of you were once more dismissed. Clutching Adom’s hand so tight your knuckles began to ache, you followed him out of the room.

From that day on, your already hectic life changed drastically into an even more frenetic life. In all sessions you stayed with your father, watching silently from beside him as he worked his own magic in special ways you desperately wished to learn. On the days he had little to do, he sent you off on chores, purchasing different ingredients for both food and spells. With access to all knowledge needed, purchasing books no longer became a problem. Your only main problem was your socialization issue.

He was so lonely, the kings’ youngest son. His brother, as you could tell from their limited interactions, did not get along well with him. Until you came along, it was just the two of them. Yet your anxiety was in such a state that for two whole years you didn’t even know their names. By the time you were eleven, the younger prince was twelve, and the eldest fourteen, and the siblings fighting was at an all time high.

From the corner of the mostly-empty room you watched them bicker, which mostly consisted of the elder throwing verbal abuse at the younger while the younger deflected it with pure intellect and cruelty. Something must’ve struck a nerve, as the eldest stormed off, and the younger sat on the floor and began to cry.

Feeling your heart pound, you made slow footsteps till you made it to the center of the room, and kneeled down beside the boy.

“Is everything okay?” You asked in a meek voice, your mind reminding yourself over and over again that one wrong move could get you killed. Were you supposed to even be speaking with him? Your palms began to sweat at the thought.

“Yes, I’m…” he sniffed, wiping his cheeks dry, “I’m alright. Kahmuh is - he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

You waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t you asked, “what did he say?” in just as quiet a voice as before.

“Jus’ something about my parents,” he mumbled.

You sat fully down, wrapping your arm over his shoulders. Somehow finding comfort in your touch, he leaned in, and soon his crying stopped.

For the next two years you remained friends with the boy, protecting him in instances with his brother, and defending him in the various arguments he’d get into. Overall, you found very little difference in the siblings. Both were entitled, and neither had a very well developed sense of sympathy or empathy. Rather, both boys were so entranced with their own selves that the only real reason you could find them talking to you is if they were fighting over you again.

You, over time, had become part of their feud, like a prize to be won, and from the moment you realized this it sickened you. By your third year in the palace, Adom took you aside.

“When I was your age, 14, I went on a sort of mission,” he said, kneeling to your height as he was monstrously tall. His hand stayed on your shoulder as he spoke to you, keeping your eye from straying in the torchlit hallway. “I looked for myself in the desert, and I sat atop a hill for many days till I… changed. It was just as mental as it was physical. But…” he paused, looking down with a shaky breath, “I’m giving you a choice. You don’t have to do this.”

For a moment you processed his words, contemplating the consequences of either action. To be perfectly frank you had no idea what 'finding yourself' meant, and what physical changes would happen to you. Was it different for every person? So you asked, and each answer felt satisfying.

“What kind of changes happened?”

“My hair grew long, and turned stark white. I also grew very, very tall. I was about your height before. And I could see the future much clearer than ever before. It seemed so simple, and it still is.”

“And… looking for yourself? What does that mean?”

“If you’ve ever felt like you don’t know yourself, or as though you are watching your own life pass as you can do naught but watch, this will get rid of it.”

“Are there any downsides to this whole thing?”

He sucked in a breath, and proceeded to explain what this journey would fully be. You would wander into the desert with only the clothes you wore daily, and you would walk along the Aur* for as long as it was deemed possible for two days. Then, looking out around the land, you would find climb to the highest peak, and sit, until the change happened.

“Will I not starve?” You asked quietly.

“There is food along the nile, and during your meditation, the gods will keep you alive.”

You had your doubts. But you trusted him more than you trusted yourself, and he was encouraging you. And, thinking back to the awful past years you’d been having, you thought a year alone might do some good.

Taking nothing, you left in the dead of night, and by morn the pharaoh was glad to see you gone. Though you weren’t sure if the pharaoh actually hated you, it was rather obvious he had a thing against people who couldn’t see very well. Even with his prejudice, he didn’t all together ban you from the palace - you knew Adom was far too important to simply cast out.

For two days you walked beside the Aur, coming across people that would thin once the city grew far off in the distance. By the first night, you made it to Lisht, passing by without stop. Walk for as long as you can, until you hit the two day mark.

In the morning, your speed has decreased horribly, and by evening, you made it halfway to El Lahun before collapsing in the heat below a shading tree. Panting, you looked around for any source of food. The water was behind you, you could hear the slow churning of water, but it was hardly very clean. Ahket** had already come to claim the land. As your head turned to the side, a spark of red caught your eye. Standing slowly, you walked over to it, finding red berries.

“Hopefully not poisonous,” you breathed out, shoving several in your mouth.

For the next week you spent your hours looking for the tallest peak, using your magic to seek it out and climbing said peak when it was finally discovered. There you sat, wind blowing through your hair, as you waited for answers to come. In that time, you grew, and your skin began to change. The color began to fade, being replaced with the darkest shade of night, as the hair atop your head grew into bright white.

The path returning home was easier. In the water, you could see your reflection, noticing you really looked just the same - only in seeming contrast. Your vision was much better than it ever had been, though not perfect. In a rather confused state, stumbling over rocks and knocking into tree branches, you realized being tall would take some getting used to.

The same as you left home, you arrived in the night. Being careful of lower ceilings and signs, you wandered through the backdoor of the palace, and crept back into your fathers’ room.

The two of you embraced after the long year apart, and the next morning, you were put to work. Walking through the halls you came across the royal siblings, once more bickering, but left in a confused, stammering mess as you passed by them on your way to Adom’s study. There, in the dim, no windowed library of a room, Adom taught you control of your abilities.

A few weeks after your arrival, the youngest pulled you aside to speak with you.

“Who are you?” He asked, and he would’ve looked mystified if he didn’t look so angry and confused.

“I am Piye. You knew me a year ago,” you told him, recognition sparking in his eyes.

“You’ve… changed,” he noticed, letting go of the wrist he’d held so tight. You nodded slowly, wary of any sudden movements he would make. “I have, too. I wondered where you went, but now that you’re back, I simply wanted to apologize for my behavior as a child. I was - well, I was rather rude.”

“A little,” you agreed hesitantly. “But I accept your apology.”

He smiled softly, and from there, invited you to join him for dinner that evening.

It wasn’t quite what you expected. Actually, it wasn’t what you expected at all. He had taken you down, into a little hideaway beneath trees that had grown tall beside the nile. The chill of night air cooled your skin, quelling any anxieties you might’ve had as the two of you sat on the ground.

“I would’ve taken you to my fathers feast,” he began to say, unpacking several items of food from the basket he carried, “but I wanted to talk to you more easily.”

“Really?” You asked, pouring wine from the bottle into two glasses. “Why is that?”

“You’ve been gone for a year! A whole year - what happened?” He leaned forward with wide eyes, his hands folded politely in his lap as he practically begged you for an account of the details. You chuckled in mild amusement of his antics. It all felt so… distant, now that you’d seen the world for what it is.

“I went on a soul searching mission, as Adom called it. It’s how he came to look, well, like he does.”

The topic interested him, clearly, as he proceeded to ask an avalanche of questions, one coming right after the other without a moments’ pause. In his flurry of speech he made several observations that almost had you blushing; how beautiful your skin was, how heavenly you seemed to glow, and how you resembled a god. Of course, at that point, you chided him, saying that it was rude to the gods. In honest reply, he said, “I don’t care.”

Most of the foods he brought were not finished, lying half eaten on the blanket he’d set out. Both of you spent too much time talking, and as the evening moulded into midnight, all thought of returning to the palace left you. Truly he had grown, and changed, in his manner, and the way he held himself. The tone he spoke in morphed as well - more bold, more meaningful, spoken in such a light and almost sweet way that you’d so easily forget who you addressed.

In this sudden trance of conversation, your thoughts began to slow, and as you stared ahead at him, trying to describe to you a conversation with his mother, you realized you could find a friend in him. That, and perhaps, a companion.

As the sun began to strike dawn above the river, you nearly jumped at your own shadow contrasting so suddenly with the darkness that had consumed you all night.

“Have we really stayed out that long?” Ahkmen gasped, already packing away the half-eaten container of dates.

“Oh dear,” you mumbled under your breath, helping him put everything away, and racing him to the palace. By the time you got there, the sun was just barely peaking over the mountains, the both of you laughing between pants. He bent down, hands on his knees as he took deep breaths, only to lose it again in a laughing fit when you giggled. There was something inherently joyful about his presence, that it could make such an occasion feel exhilarating when it was indeed dangerous.

“Come find me in the throne room in a few hours,” he said, his breathing slowing down as he grasped your upper arm.

“Why?”

“I want to show you something. Will you come?”

You nodded, letting out a breathy yes, smiling toothily as the two of you jogged down the corridors. His fingers trilled against the back of your hand as he dragged you, in full knowledge, to your rooms’ front door.

“Sleep for a little. I’ll see you soon,” he said quickly, his eyes darting around to see if anyone was watching, but always returning to you.

“I should say the same t-“

“Oh, go in!” He whisper shouted, pushing you into your room as a shadow drew near. You pressed your ear to the door, hearing nothing but footsteps. Assuming all went well, you snuck past sleeping Adom, who was passed out at his desk, and into your own bed.

For several hours you slept, dreaming of very little but the experience you just had. Thrilling in a childish way - you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to stay out so long, but Gods was it exciting, and somehow you longed for more. Not that you felt as though breaking rules was a good idea, quite the opposite. Still, there was something nagging at you to get to know the boy better.

Adom pulled the covers off your body three hours after you’d gotten them on, shoving you off the bed, all making you awaken in a crude state. On the floor, your hair a mess upon your head, and entirely disoriented.

“I’ve been called to court. Something important. Want to come?” He asked.

“Wasn’t there a nicer way to do that?” You grumbled, holding your aching head.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said with a shrug, turning to leave.

“Wait, I’ll come! Just a moment to get dressed,” you requested quickly, pushing him out of your bedroom and shutting the door to dress yourself in proper attire. As you finished, you smiled at your father, prompting him to nod quickly, and set off towards the throne room.

There you found a royal proceeding in order, one you’d seen before. The ordering of another temple, whether or not to do it, and if so, where, how many builders, and what the cost would be. A rather dull proceeding, and you began to regret waking so soon, till you caught the eye of Ahkmen. He smiled brightly, rolling his weight from his toes to his heel as he tried to keep a semblance of formality. You gave a small wave, but otherwise payed attention to the pharaoh.

“And which God is this again?” He asked, having clearly trailed off in thought.

“Uh,” Adom opened a scroll, “Amun, my king.”

For a moment, the pharaoh contemplated, leaning forward and scratching at the long beard on his chin. His eyes flickered upwards, to the architect in front of him, before nodding curtly.

“I want you to preside over cost, workers, and efficiency. See whatever budget you find fit.”

The architect nodded, thanking him profusely, before turning and walking spritely out the main entrance. Beside you, Ahkmen crept closer, before leaning down the few steps that separated you and whispering.

“Glad you came?”

“Is that what you wanted me to see?” You chuckled, knowing full well that it couldn’t be.

“Not at all. It’s in a few more appointments.” His father side eyed him, glaring and silently degrading his posture. “Be patient,” he said as he straightened to a position where you could no longer speak with him.

You watched several more meetings, feeling your senses dull as Adom stepped up to be beside the pharaoh. The longing to leave came many times, especially as you saw birds fly past the arches, and a sweet breeze blew into the room. By the fourth meeting, concerning some failed crop, you submitted yourself to your fate, knowing you couldn’t do much without appearing rude.

A man appeared, several boys you recognized to be carriers, who delivered letters and information behind him. Looking rather bedraggled, he bowed deep before the pharaoh, the boys doing the same, before he spoke.

“The plans for the Festival of Opet are all going well. Seems everything is alright, nothing too hectic this year. Your barge to Thebes will arrive within the week,” he said, keeping his head high and his gaze low. The pharaoh noticeably untensed, smiling at the news and nodded for the man to continue. “All that’s left is the feast, here in the city. You’ve ordered,” he cleared his throat, and a boy came forward, handing him a scroll. “for your son to look over the details. Now, you’ve, uh… is this your eldest or younger son?”

“My eldest,” the pharaoh clarified, glancing to his right, where the eldest stood. “And if there are issues with this arrangement, look to Adom.”

The man nodded, bowing and leaving the room. Only then did Ahkmen look at you again, pure anticipation written all over it with a bright smile to accompany. Politely, you smiled in return, unsure if that was what he wanted you to specifically see. As the Pharaoh stood to depart, his sons went their separate ways. Ahkmen to you, and Kahmuh to start with preparations.

“Was that it then?” You asked, following his lead down a different hallway than you came. Adom, too caught up in the Pharaoh’s needs for the impending trip, did not notice your departure.

“Yes! It’s one of the rare times my father leaves, and this time he’s finally putting Kahmuh in charge instead of me! He’s always making me do things, and it gets to be a bit much sometimes,” he admitted to his stress casually, his face still alight with eagerness.

“He puts his youngest in charge rather than his eldest? Doesn’t seem very wise, does it?”

“You haven’t fully met my brother,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“That bad, is he?” You asked, ducking your head as the open-arch hallway turned into a closed one.

“And worse. He’s done some really odd things, but hopefully this’ll mature him up a bit,” he said, turning into the kitchen. You followed, seeing a few servants about doing very little. At the prince’s presence they didn’t jump, so you safely assumed he was here often. Digging his hand into a bowl of figs and pulling out two, he handed one to you, and bit into his own. “But that might be wishful thinking.”

“He can’t screw up a feast that badly, can he? It’s just a dinner. It’s not like he’s controlling the Kings’ march from Thebes to Luxor, or steering his barge,” you tried, an odd attempt at comfort.

“Again, you’d be surprised. You could be right, but still! He’s done some… stuff,” he explained vaguely.

“Could you elaborate on that?” You examined the fig closely, looking up at him as you spoke.

“No,” he said through a mouthful of fig, the two of you breaking into giggles once he swallowed.

After earning odd stares from the servants, you patted him on the shoulder, gingerly leading him out the door.

“He and I don’t speak much anymore. I find it keeps the peace.”

“I saw you arguing with him not a few weeks ago,” you said, recalling the day after you returned.

“Yes, well, uh, that was important. He sabotaged a statue of our mother,” he said in a low voice, pulling you aside from your walk. You paused, noting that it was apparently a big deal.

“Really? What did he do?”

“… cut the nose off and destroyed it. It’ll take them a while to make another one and fit it on right,” he mumbled.

“Hm. No respect for elders or family. What a kind man,” you said sarcastically, continuing on your way down the hall. He agreed easily, following beside you, his steps faster to keep up with your long strides.

“I was taking us to the kitchen,” he said after you made your way out the front of the palace. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, are you still there?” You teased, looking down at him with a sly smile. He punched you lightly, frowning.

“I’m not so small that you’d forget me,” he fluffed. “Now answer my question.”

“Well, you like food, right?” You asked, turning down the street on a path you memorized long ago.

“Yes. But don’t phrase it like that.”

“Of course, your highness,” you said, a toying lilt in your voice. “There’s a place down here that does wonderful things with beer and bread.”

“Really?” He asked, expecting no answer as he followed you through the market, through half abandoned alleyways to this place you spoke of.

“Now it’s not very high class,” you told him, stopping in front of a rather rundown building, one that had no door and very few people inside.

“Should - should I take my things off?” He asked quietly, pointing to his golden necklace and bracelets. You looked around a moment, before pulling him into the alley beside the restaurant, handing him the shawl off your back.

“They’ll get stolen if you put them somewhere, and you’ll get noticed if you keep wearing them in plain sight,” you explained as he stammered, almost refusing but unwilling to present any other solution.

“Alright, uh, let’s get going then,” he faltered, pushing you ahead before going himself, raising your shawl to below his eyes.

Sitting in the corner, you were soon served, and as always, the food was excellent. Ahkmen noted that it was well worth the trip, and requested you take him there in the future as well.

“Do you think I could get the recipe for our kitchens?” He asked at the end of the meal, leaning forwards to get a better view into the kitchen.

“It’s a family secret. I’ve asked,” you chuckled, waving at the man who looked back at Ahkmen, startling him out of his trance.

“What a shame,” he murmured, only looking away from the kitchens when you interrupted his gaze, pulling him out of his seat and out the door.

Upon leaving he handed your shawl back to you, which you took graciously, pulling it over your shoulders as the two of you weaved through the growing crowd. The market was always crowded, and the streets preceding it grew steadily in the people present. You towered over most in your form, so if ever Ahkmen got lost in the chaos, he would look up to find you. Almost always you were right beside him.

“Do you ever worry for your city?” You asked quietly, walking up the steps of the palace. Furrowing his brow he turned to you, stopping you with a soft touch to your arm.

“What do you mean?” He stepped up a few steps to be equal with you.

“I mean, the line of succession. You hardly trust your brother with a feast, how will you think the city will fare with him as a king? Not only the city, but your world?”

“Somehow, you have the hardest questions to answer all the time. Can’t you loosen up? How old are you?”

“I’m 15,” you answered.

“You’re younger than I am, and so worried about the state of things. It’ll work itself out, and not yet. I doubt my father is ready to give up the throne,” he assured you, a small smile gracing his lips as he tapped your shoulder, signalling the walk up the steps had been resumed.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, the thought still bothered you. Perhaps your own father would have a say over it, but you doubted it still. There was really no option, and certainly no advice from you would be heeded, so for the time you tried to let it go.

“The sun is always hottest midday, so I make it a rule of mine never to be out midday,” he told you as shade enveloped you both, cooling hot skin from the beating sun.

“Sounds a fair rule,” you replied.

The two of you ventured through the halls and rooms, making your way past the throne room on tip toe.

“I don’t want any part in the planning,” he whispered, explaining his odd behavior, sticking to the walls and staying silent as possible. You nodded, glancing back to Kahmuh every now and then, hoping your rather monstrous form wouldn’t be noticed.

Right as his foot stepped through the archway to the next room, a boisterous voice called through the room, calling his attention.

“Brother! Come help with this!”

His shoulders slumped, and quickly resuming a prouder posture, he turned with a smile. Good at faking, you noted to yourself, for any future occurrence where it might prove crucial. You followed him, staying by his side as Kahmuh asked redundant questions only meant to irk his brother. He was doing it well, too - Ahkmen was clearly very annoyed. His eyes kept an intense glare, but a friendly smile stayed as he answered.

“And of the musicians? Whom should we hire?” Kahmuh asked, tapping his chin in deep thought.

“Uh,” he stammered, taken unawares by a more important question. “Shouldn’t we hire our usual?”

“Yes… that harpist is rather good.”

You tried to recall the band, but came up with little other than background imagery from the various parties your father had attended with you. With a nod to his inferiors, the eldest prince sent away the servants, leaving just you, your newfound friend, and his rather conniving brother.

“I see you two have rekindled your friendship,” he said, surprisingly calm about it. His face showed no change in demeanor, a small smile on his lips and unusually beady eyes.

“Something of the sort,” Ahkmen replied, smiling curtly. “I was just escorting Piye back to their room.”

“Ah. Well, don’t let me disturb you,” he said, side eyeing you as he turned to face the front of the room. There was something sly about him, and not entirely truthful, but your basis was empty. Thus, you dismissed your speculation as simple fear, following Ahkmen’s lead into and through the halls to your room.

Standing at the open door of your room, he took your hands, looking into your eyes. Behind you, you could feel Adom’s gaze burning into the base of your head. Ahkmen must not have noticed, though, as he spoke rather plainly.

“Tomorrow, I want to meet you at the hill overlooking the nile. Do you, uh, have any prior commitments?”

“None at all. What time?”

“After noon, I think. I have an idea I want to try out,” he said with a playful smile. In turn you narrowed your eyes, wondering what scheme he was cooking up, and whether or not it was something you wanted to be involved in. Either way, if you got caught, he’d take the blame.

“Alright, I’ll join you.”

“Good. Now get some sleep,” he said, patting your shoulder rather awkwardly, a hesitant tap and then a full pat.

With a quick turn, he vanished down the hallway, leaving you with your father. Slowly, you turned around, watching carefully for his reaction. Casually, he looked up from his stew, book in hand, his eyes dull with exhaustion.

“Fraternizing with the prince?”

“He invited me first,” you explained, appearing as fast as you said the words at his side.

“And… get some sleep? Would that have to do with your little outing last night?”

You froze, eyes widening. You weren’t at all aware that he knew - you thought yourself rather silent, actually.

“Um - I just…”

You trailed off, watching as a small smile grew into a grin, till Adom belted out a laugh, moving to his feet. Though his eyes still drew heavy with sleep, he patted you on the back, and the smile remained.

“I’m only joking. I’m glad you’ve got a friend. Even if he’s, well, royal.”

Nodding, you dismissed yourself, just barely reaching your room before your composure completely broke.

What a relief, you thought to yourself.

After a good while of studying law, per Adom’s request, you laid yourself to rest in the evening. The next day continued as usual - breakfast with Adom, reviewing subject material, before court with the King (or, in this case, the kings’ terrible son), till afternoon swung around and your free time began. At least, as long as your father didn’t have any errands he needed you to run in his place.

As the seemingly endless meetings finally came to an end, Ahkmen pulled at your sleeve, breaking you secretly away from your place at Adom’s side. It wasn’t until you reached a darkened hallway, lit by distant sunlight that you finally broke free, and he turned around suddenly.

“What in the world were you thinking?” You hissed, your head whipping back the way you came to see if anyone had followed you, before promptly refocusing your glare on Ahkmen.

“The meetings were especially long today, don’t you think?” He asked as an avoidance of your question, his hands settling on his hips.

“… Yes. There are several things about today that have certainly occurred. Like taking me prematurely from Adom before finding out if he needed me after court!”

“You seriously call it court?”

“That’s what it’s ‘seriously’ called. It’s the official name.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Well, it’s a bit colder today. Fluctuating weather or something - I wanted to get out before the wind got bad,” he said, grabbing your wrist and once more dragging you down the hall, aiming for that distant hill overlooking the Aur.

Against your better judgement you let him take you, through whatever path he saw fit, your feet dragging behind you as he ran. You could almost roll your eyes at his antics. So childish, you thought, especially for a prince. Even a younger one. Perhaps his immaturity was a result of the exact reason he shouldn’t have been. You could hardly let your mind dwell on it, racing down the short but numerous steps leading down to the ground.

From your position the river wasn’t in sight, but the cliff Ahkmen ran towards was. You pulled at his hand, grasping and intertwining his fingers in yours, finally bringing him to a steady but anxious halt. Panting, he knelt in the sand, looking up at you with a gleaming grin.

“Good exercise, yeah?”

“I suppose so,” you replied, largely unaffected by the exertion of energy. After letting him breathe for a moment, you held your hand out. He took it, and you lifted him to his feet.

“So here’s my idea. You know how the sand here isn’t exactly steady? It’s, sort of precarious?”

“Yes?”

“I was thinking. What if we sort of.. stood at the edge, and stomped our feet, and we could ride the falling sand into the water?”

For a whole of two minutes you stared at him, trying to decipher if he was kidding or not. In that time, he did not flinch, continuing to stare expectantly at you, his hands once more on his hips. Blinking, you decided he was not joking.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course!” He replied immediately.

“You’re an idiot.”

“We all know that,” he laughed. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Sighing, and tilting your head to the sky, you shut your eyes tight.

“You’re going to do this no matter if I join or not?”

“That’s about right, my friend.”

“Fine,” you practically spat, after another moment of contemplation. “I’ll do the - I’ll join you, but only because I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself. I will garner no joy from this.”

“I told you this yesterday, and I will tell you again,” he said, moving to hold your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing softly against the back of your hands. “Loosen up.”

“This could kill you.”

“And?”

That’s worrying, you thought to yourself, unable to express that thought before he stood at the very edge, stomping with his sandals at the loose sand. Rushing to his side, you held his upper arm, ready to catch him if any harm should befall.

“Come on, then! Join me! What with your size, should happen much faster,” he said, and gingerly you began stepping at the ground. Not full stomping, just the weight and strength you’d use while walking. None of that mattered though, as the ground beneath you began to move, and the two of you surged forward.

You would’ve shut your eyes were you not so worried of losing track of the prince. The grip you held on him tightened, making sure that you wouldn’t separate in the landslide running down to the nile. Wind surged past your face, the mild air stinging at your open eyes. Swallowing thick, you tried to breathe, and waited for the fall to end.

By the end, half the sand of the hill had flooded into the Aur, dirtying the water and blocking it from flowing as well. You glared over at Ahkmen, buried in sand up to his shoulders.

“It’s going to take forever to get you out of there,” you sighed.

“At least it only goes up to your chest,” he pointed out helpfully. Rolling your eyes, you cleared the sand with your hands, digging yourself out before helping him.

“This was a terrible idea,” you told him, helping him to his feet.

“Not my worst though,” he said, mumbling a thank you and dusting himself out. His skin tinted a red from the irritation of sand against it for so long.

“Really? What did you do, break your skull open?” You asked, leading the two of you back up to the palace.

“Actually,” he said, grunting and wincing as his skin rubbed against itself, “I tried to befriend an alligator.”

“One of the ones down at the temple? I thought they were rather nice.”

“Those ones are. Not wild ones though.”

You stopped, staring at him.

“Wild ones? Did your mother not love you or something?! How many times a year do you do these idiotic things?”

“About three or four times a week, according to my brother. I don’t think they’re stupid though! And let me explain myself -“ he chuckled, “- I’m just having fun. A lot of it, too, and I haven’t died yet.”

“Half your heart*** obviously has.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“Oh, no offense intended, your majesty,” you laughed, bowing dramatically low as the two of you walked back into the shadowed hall of stone.

“You’re pardoned. For now,” he said, side eying you cheekily, a smile playing at his lips.

Giggling, you elbowed him, partially unbalancing him.

“Ah,” he said quietly, rubbing the place where you hit him. “A bit sensitive.”

“I’ll take you to the baths,” you sighed, rolling your eyes and directing him towards the bathroom. He halted, tugging at your sleeve to stop you. “What?”

“I don’t use the servants baths,” he said, chuckling, almost astounded. Frowning, you turned to him.

“If it gives you such offense, I will see you in a while then. I’d like to take my own bath considering how unclean your exploits make one.”

“No, you can join me if you’d like,” he returned quickly, pulling at your sleeve again as you began to head to your own quarters. For a moment, there was naught but silence as the two of you watched each other.

“Okay,” you agreed. “As long as next time, you come see what I have to deal with daily.”

“Agreed,” he said with a smile, and the both of you shook hands.

The path to your new destination took you up several flights of stairs, winding through hallways you’d never before seen, all decorated intricately. Torches lined the hall in even stands, all unlit as night had not yet come. Sun still shined through the open arches.

“Just down this way,” he assured you, the pathway growing more and more confusing till you were sure you would never find your way back alone, till at last a door opened to a chamber, the arches open and warm water steaming the air from nearby stoves. The tubs were built into the raised floor, the two of you walking up the short steps to the base floor.

Servants came from seemingly nowhere, waiting on you, undressing you as you tried to brush them away.

“Uh - is this customary?” You asked anxiously, trying to signify to the servants that you didn’t want to be served.

“Hm?” He turned around, laughing when he saw your awkwardness. “Do you not usually have people helping you?”

“No,” you answered firmly. “It’s not usual.”

“It’s not unusual for us, no. Just let them do their job,” he tried to convince you, his voice quiet and smooth.

“I don’t think I will. Please, I can do this alone,” you said, turning to the servants. Glancing at each other, they nodded, leaving you be. You let out a breath, undressing yourself in peace and climbing into the too small bath, your knees coming up to your chest but enjoying the warm water nonetheless.

Behind you, you heard sniggering, causing you to turn. Ahkmen, situated in the tub behind you, was laughing at your condition. Swiveling yourself around in the water, you turned to him, wide eyed and glaring.

“Something humorous?”

“Sort of,” he snorted.

“I’d be ever so indebted if you shared it with me.”

“I was just… thinking of you. Sharing a bath with someone else. I don’t think it’d end well.”

“Sounds too intimate for me,” you replied, ignoring the degrading insinuation.

“What’s that mean? Scared of intimacy?”

“Not at all. But I don’t exactly look the part,” you chuckled heartlessly, looking down at yourself. Sure, dark skin was absolutely beautiful, but… not black skin. Dark as night skin was… well, it made you insecure to say the least. In the very least, you hadn’t met anyone like you except Adom, and your height wasn’t exactly helping your insecurities. When you discovered what you looked like, the dawning realization that you were no longer attractive, not in this culture, came very slowly, but it came nonetheless.

“What in the world do you mean by that? Are you saying you aren’t attractive?”

“Yes? I don’t exactly meet societal standards -“

“That’s a load of shit, and a horrible way of thinking. I think you’re very attractive as you are. You’ve got a nice face, and your freckles are white, which I think is very cool.”

“I have freckles?” You asked softly, your hand coming up to stroke your cheek. How had he noticed something about you that you had not seen before?

“Um,” he said, choking up when he realized he’d definitely just confessed to staring at your face, “yeah. I mean, they’re nice n’ all, uh…” he trailed off, sinking into his bathwater.

“… thank you,” you mumbled, still absently stroking your cheek.

The rest of the bath was enjoyed, or tolerated, in both warmth, comfort, and extreme emotional discomfort.

As night approached, the sun disappeared over the mountains, leaving the land in a shadowy state. Torches were lit by servants, and both you and Ahkmen, fully dressed in cleaner and nicer clothing, wandered down the long hallways once more towards your own room for you, and the dining hall for him.

“Despite todays failings,” you said, looking pointedly at the red stomach shown by his lack of clothing there, “I had a good time.”

Quietly he chuckled, growing slowly louder till he finally spoke.

“You said you wouldn’t enjoy yourself! Ha! I win!”

“Win what?!”

“I told myself that I could make you have fun in a stupid way, and I just won!”

“It doesn’t count if I don’t know about it!”

“Ah, or perhaps not, my friend! You see, if you knew about it,” the two of you had now stopped walking in the hallway, facing each other, “you might not have told me that, even if you did enjoy your day.”

“I don’t lie,” you sniffed, feeling mildly insulted.

“Sure you don’t, but I don’t know that about you yet. In the future,” he straightened out his skirt, leading the way as you began walking again, “I will tell you about such competitions.”

“Right. Well I thank you then, my prince.” Once more you bowed, but his smile faltered for a second, before regaining its’ regular brightness.

“Have a good dinner,” he said as you stood outside your door.

“You as well. Don’t fight your brother.”

“You can’t make me do anything.”

“But I can advise you so I can tell you ‘I told you’ later.”

Glancing at you, a smirk upon him, he nodded.

“Fair game.”

For the next several days, you counted your lucky Gods that he hadn’t tried to make you do anything else dangerous. He was nursing a bad burn from the sand, so you thought that’d keep him sated in the very least. You were deeply, unequivocally wrong.

He sat in bed, the burn having gotten worse from the night before. All along his body, medication in the form of cream and lotion sat upon his skin, rendering him immobile. This fact, while annoying him, did not deter him from annoying you and pushing your emotional energy past its’ limit.

“Do you think it’s edible?” He asked as you sat beside him, reading from one of the various scrolls Adom had given you.

“What?” You asked blandly, not looking up.

“You know, the stuff they put on me. It smells good.”

“I’d assume not. If the smell is making you hungry, I can go fetch something.”

“I’m going to eat it.”

“No you aren’t.”

Though you kept your eyes trained on your reading, you could see him, from the corner of your eye, dipping his finger into the lotion and bringing it to his mouth, before gagging at its taste.

“Oh Gods.”

“I told you.”

“Oh my Gods that’s… that’s awful.”

“I definitely told you.”

“Yes you did,” he said, sucking in a breath.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am not!”

“You just ate skin medicine.”

He turned away from you, pouting without another word said. Clearing your throat, you went back to reading, ignoring his little session of anger. Slowly, the humor got to you, till you began to audibly chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, turning to you.

“Nothing. You’re rather… odd,” you settled on, hoping the description wouldn’t offend him terribly. Instead, the opposite effect took place, where he broke down into his own giggles, spurring on your own laughter till the two of you were giggling meaninglessly.

The next occasion in which he pushed himself in a direction he shouldn’t have, he picked a fight with his brother. It had been a few days, and his burn was much better, to the point where he could move like a mostly normal person. He walked alongside his brother, who was trailed by several servants and nobles, all worried about the upcoming celebration. Whenever they would try to speak to him, Kahmuh would wave them off, and continue talking to his brother. It wasn’t a kind voice he spoke in, rather a ridiculing one, and a tone with words so carefully chosen that Ahkmen couldn’t logically argue.

You walked in quiet step behind your friend, trying to keep your distance from the others following Kahmuh. Instead of bothering with their mean-spirited conversation, you looked at the greenery, blooming even in the colder season. Innovation was certainly thriving in Memphis, especially so in its’ gardens. From where you were, you could hear bits of their conversation, not fully absorbing yourself in their words till Kahmuh must’ve said something conniving, for which Ahkmen retaliated by grabbing the back of his brothers’ neck, and forcing his face into his raised knee.

Jumping forward, you grabbed Ahkmen’s arms, restricting him, and pulling him out of the way of what was sure to be a painful retaliation. As you left, Kahmuh cursed the both of you, before speaking in hushed voice with his fathers’ advisors.

“What in the world was that?!” You hissed, still restraining his hands and forcing him through the doors and back into the palace.

“He just insulted my parents!” He bit back, his eyes wild and angered.

“You can’t go into a fit every time he says something about your parents,” you tried to convince him in a hushed whisper, thinking past to several years ago, when the two brothers had been simply awful to each other.

“Piye, I don’t think you understand what he just said. I’ll say it in simpler words so you can understand; he can’t wait for them to die.”

“Don’t insult me,” you spoke bitterly, releasing him and pushing him forward. “I don’t have your education, or your status. I don’t have your experience, but do not believe me to be lower than you. No man is lower than you, nor is any higher.”

He rubbed the area of his arm that you had been holding tight, eyes downcast as he thought over his words. His stance remained tight, and his brow furrowed.

“I have an idea,” he finally said, looking up at you. You nodded, gesturing for him to continue. He cleared his throat and did so. “You should be my adviser.”

“That’s the first good idea you’ve had in months,” you commented with your arms crossed, mildly impressed.

“Well you can’t bully me if you’re going to agree to it,” he said with a comically exaggerated frown. You chuckled, breaking your stern exterior with a pleasant smile.

“None can deny you’re in desperate need of advice. Maybe some growing up to do, as well.”

“You’re insulting me again, you know,” he said as the both of you began walking down the long hallway in a slow meander.

“Is that not my job?”

+

As the days progressed into weeks he explained further what your job was to truly be. Into the details of how he didn’t really need an advisor, to which you quickly cut in, saying that he’d probably die if you weren’t his advisor. He agreed easily.

“That’s not the point, though,” he told you, sitting across from you at a wonderfully crafted table in his private room. “Only the Pharaoh needs advisors and all that. I’m not to become Pharaoh.”

“Now we’re getting into realistic fears.”

“I - I’m sorry?”

“A while back, I asked if you were concerned with your brother becoming King, considering his decisions aren’t exactly, um, sound, so to say.”

“Oh, right, right. Yes. Maybe we could run away,” he suggested, clearly joking, but for some reason, a feeling deep in your stomach told you that if you asked, he would comply.

“… Right,” you said slowly. “For now I’ll just label my job as ‘trying to keep an idiot alive.’”

“Again with the insults?”

“You literally, purposefully started a landslide. That’s on you.”

“You came along. And you had fun,” he pointed out with a goofy smile.

“I swear I’ll never tell you the truth again.”

“Then I will know you’re lying, and I’ll assume the opposite.”

“You’re infuriating, you know that, right?”

“A little. My parents love me.”

“That’s because you’re nicer and cuter than your brother.”

“You think I’m cute?” He leaned forward, a shit eating grin on his face as his eyes crinkled in teasing delight.

“Hardly,” you took a sip of your beer, “but I’m sure your parents think you are.”

“Aw,” he pouted, his bottom lip pushed out. You chuckled, shaking your head.

From there, conversation continued in small, quiet phrases as the two of you read your separate homework documents. Him, with his hieroglyphs and politics, and you with your magic and potions. Not that he fully knew what that was about - you had told him, during that first dinner, that you were training to become a healer. You told him nothing about the fact that you didn’t really need ingredients to produce fire, or water at the edge of your fingers. It wasn’t something Adom told you to easily share.

“When’s the festival again?”

You set your scroll flat on the table.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I wasn’t really paying attention. It was nice to not have to, you know?”

You sighed, understanding his logic. “It’s in two days.”

A cracking sound resounded in his chambers as he slammed his book down, eyes wide and alarmingly white.

“Two days? I haven’t even gotten measured for the - oh Gods, I need to talk to my brother!” He jumped out of his seat, rushing out the door and slamming it behind him. For a moment, you sat in the silence left in his absence, wondering what had just happened. Then, the door flew open once more, Ahkmen poking his head back into the room. “Come on! I haven’t got all day!”

“That’s not technically correct you’ve got two days,” you grunted out quickly as you stepped out of your own seat, running after him.

He had little reason to be stressed. Watching him from the corner of the room, relaxing on a comfortable pile of cushions, you felt more sorry for the people who had to put together an entire outfit for him in such a short amount of time. Still he fidgeted where he stood as they held gold and green fabric up to him.

“No green, please,” he requested, to which they quickly obliged.

“Why not? You only ever wear gold,” you commented, lazing your hours away.

“I’m not going to look like my brother and he loves green. It's his favourite.”

“If you began to look like your brother I think my eyes would start burning,” you said blandly, picking at your nails. He snorted, his posture slacking till one of the men measuring him pushed his back back into place.

“You can’t insult a prince in front of other people.”

“And you shouldn’t leave things like this until the last moment,” you retorted with a laugh.

He shut up after that. By the next day, his hurried costume was finished, decorated ornately with various streaks of gold and jewels. You tried to compliment the seamster on their work, but by the time you turned around, they were gone. Turning back to Ahkmen, you admired the way it fit him.

“It’s good, I think,” you said.

“You don’t think I made a mistake with the green?”

“Let’s just say you don’t look like your brother,” you joked, handing him the heavy golden crown. With a grateful smile and slight bow he took it, settling it gently upon his head. Looking into the floor length mirror in front of him, you tilted the crown slightly so it wouldn’t fall to one side. He murmured a thank you, fiddling with the thin cape he wore.

“You sure it looks okay?” He asked again.

“You look regal.”

“Don’t I always?” He teased, biting at his lower lip thoughtfully.

“Not covered in white grease and choking on it because you thought it might taste good.”

“That was one time,” he groaned. You still laughed at his discontentment, sitting back in one of his luxurious chairs he kept in his room.

Adom woke you early in the morning, hurriedly telling you of his duties, and warning that he would be gone for a while. As he rushed out of your room, you threw your covers off of yourself, running out after him.

“Adom! What do you mean, what’s happening?” You asked groggily, wondering what in the hell could have him so worried.

“What? Nothing, I need to prepare the image of Amun-Re for the celebration. You know, marching through the streets? You watched me a few years back,” he said, stuffing several herbs into his bag. In sudden recognition you nodded, a small ‘ah,’ escaping you as he flew out the door with a quick good bye. Blearily, you dressed yourself, and went to visit the prince.

Most mornings the halls were moderately filled - enough room to move about freely, with groups of people passing by every now and then. Though you expected this, from the years passed, the sheer number of people filling room left by stone walls was shocking. You towered above their heads, repeatedly excusing yourself and apologizing as you practically trampled over the horde. It didn’t help that everyone was going in different directions, either, rather hindering most everyones sense of direction except yours, the only one capable of seeing above the raucous crowd. When at last you met the wood doors sealing Ahkmen away from the noise, you slipped inside with a nod to the diligent guards placed outside his room, on either side of his door.

In a tangle of blankets, lying on his stomach, legs sticking out in two different directions and his arm over the back of his head, was the royal Prince, a supposed half god on earth, and a direct line to the deities. He snored softly, partially muffled by the soft pillows beneath him. Groaning quietly, with a small roll of your eyes, you stepped forward, pulling the blankets off of him with a harsh tug. With a bit of effort he at last unraveled, letting out his own ungraceful moan at harsh sunlight hitting his eyes and cooler wind upon his half naked skin.

“Today’s the day of the feast, and you’re sleeping in?” You asked, more astounded than you were annoyed, though fully annoyed nonetheless.

“I am a vessel of Ra’s power, and he says I can sleep,” he mumbled, pulling a pillow over his face.

“I thought you liked Khonsu more,” you said, taking the pillow from his grasp and setting it a safe distance away from him.

“Does it matter?” He looked up at you, his eyes dry but wide.

“Yes, now get up.”

He moaned incoherent complaints the entire time, rolling off the bed and landing straight on his back. From then on, he spent the rest of the morning complaining about his back hurting, far into eating breakfast, past preparations for the ceremony, and through getting dressed for the upcoming feast.

“I think,” you said, grunting slightly as you adjusted the gold and lapis jeweled collar upon his shoulders, “you should be glad.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, continuing to observe the both of you in his mirror.

“Back before history began, the Opet festival stretched -“

“For twenty-seven days, I know. I read too,” he interrupted with a playful glare. “How does that make me lucky?”

“I don’t think you have the energy for something like that,” you said with a smile. He turned to you, his brow furrowed but a smirk still prominent on his face.

“On the contrary. I think you aren’t suited for something like that.”

“I sat on a mountaintop for a whole year without food or water. I think I’m perfectly suited.”

“That’s just sitting. Can you hold the stamina for dancing?”

“I suppose we’ll find out by tonight,” you chuckled, correcting the crown on his head, as it had once more tilted to the right.

The two of you entered the brightly lit hall, torches lining the sides in bright orange and blue. Marveling, you took your seat, a few seats away from Ahkmen but still at the same table. Adom would not be there, you realized, as Kahmuh, head of the table, stood with glass in hand.

“To the many prosperous years ahead of us, and thanks to the Gods,” he said, and from his glass he drank red wine. In unison, the room at large raised their own cups, and drank. Servants that stood nearby bowed their heads in respect, their trays level from years of experience, eyes cast down out of a learned fear. You took a sip from your own cup, the warm liquid burning down your throat in a pleasant sensation. A quick smile to your friend, one that was easily returned, and the feast began.

Stretching out before you must’ve been enough to elegantly feed the entire city for at least a week - plates of fish, salted and spiced, fruit stacked head high in ornate designs, plates of various vegetables fried with legs of beef, and massive pitchers of wine and beer separating the neat piles of food from each other. Relatively, you sat near the head, the long wooden table stretching for forever down the immense room, the ceiling towering high above you, so far that the light did not reach the ceiling before it spanned into darkness.

To the sides of the room, and at the entrance musicians played, their instruments in perfect sync with the singing voices, harmonizing with the peaceful chatter of the many people there. Women danced in skirts and dresses, gold sewn into the sheer fabric that shimmered in the dying light of the sunset, hips moving with the music.

You filled your own plate gratuitously, but thankfully not enough to turn any heads. That fell mostly to one man, sitting across from you and slightly to the right. With as much gusto as he ate, he ended up missing half the food he’d gotten, as it flew from his mouth and landed on the dissatisfied and rather disgusted people sitting beside him. As Ahkmen glanced your way, you gestured with your head towards the man, and the two of you giggled under your breath.

Once the sun had finally set, it felt as though the energy had gone through the roof. People stood on the benches and seats, drinking and singing boastfully, their arms wrapped around each other. Kahmuh looked on in his usual, quiet demeanor, his brother whispering to him every now and again. You stayed seated where you were, amused by the antics of drunk nobles.

It must’ve been only you, noticing the clanging outside. Every so often you’d turn to the door, expecting someone to come bursting through, but for the first five times nothing happened. Anxiously you rubbed your hand together, wondering what could be causing such a racket to be heard over the laughter of over a dozen people. Swallowing thick, you tried not to linger on it. Tonight was about celebration, not worry.

He flashed you a smile, bright and excited, one that might’ve calmed you if it had not fallen so quickly to a frown. Drifting, his gaze landed to the right of your head, and you turned, finding a bloodied soldier, spear in hand, panting on his knees. Ahkmen let out a sort of yell, one that caught the attention of Kahmuh, who quickly stopped his conversation with a woman beside him as the soldier caught his eye.

“There’s - “ he couldn’t stop panting, “there’s, a… there’s an army, you need,” he took another deep breath, “you need to evacuate!”

For a split second the hall was mute, with not the sound of fire of torches crackling out of a sudden and deserved fear. Then, a sound like the screams of hell, as each and every dining person stood with shaking hands, their voices seeming to come unwillingly from themselves. The soldier fell to the ground, landing face first. From your seat you leapt, surging through the crowd and falling by his side.

Placing your hand on his chest, you felt no movement. You pressed your hand against his neck quickly, finding no pulse. With a groan you stood, knowing this was no time to worry for a body. A hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away, and the light of the dining hall disappeared as the crowd of nobles was lead far away from the palace.

Turning to run, Ahkmen stood beside you, holding your hand. You intertwined your fingers together, holding him as tight as he held you. Behind you and in front, guards protected you from every angle, ready for any sudden attack.

“Who the hell could be attacking on Opet?!” Ahkmen exclaimed, not even turning to face you. Through the noise of running footsteps and nervous shouts, you barely heard him - just enough to make it out.

“Now isn’t the time for questions,” you said, your voice an anxious murmur. At first, you were afraid he couldn’t hear you, but he nodded, running faster and pulling you along.

The crowd led you through twisting halls, through the quickest route to the back door. You’d taken it several times before - when your friend had started a landslide, or when the same friend had taken you on that midnight picnic.

“Pray they aren’t waiting for us,” a rather fat man beside you said, mostly to himself, but overhead by others. It did very little to calm the fear pounding into the group.

To the instant relief of the people, no one was there. But it was a small door - two at a time ran through it, rushing down the small steps and running for the Aur that was only a short walk away from the stairs.

“Not that way!” A guard yelled, making it down the steps and directing you into the desert. There was no way this man would be trusted without at least one of the princes allowing it, but somehow enough terror had occurred that evening that most people had lost most of their logical thinking, immediately heading where the guard led. You found yourself among that population, your hand still tight around Ahkmen’s, Kahmuh trailing angrily after everyone else. In the distance, you could hear yelling, blood curdling screams that seeped right into the bone, implanting itself into your mind to repeat over and over again. A particularly loud scream, followed by the sound of choking and gurgling sent a terrible image of some poor person getting stabbed ruthlessly in the street. You closed your eyes, shaking your head to clear the image.

It’ll be okay, you told yourself, with no Adom to confirm it, and no source of comfort but the pressure around your palm, pressing its’ medicine into your heart.

The hours following the evacuation were, if there were any true word to describe them, chaotic. Most of the nobles had never known danger, or the feeling of fear, so it ran potent through all. Even you, who had gone through quite a lot in your short lifetime, could feel it pouring off of them in great spouts. The twenty-or-so of you sat around a large rock, sheltering you from sight of the city, with Kahmuh sitting atop it and thinking of what to do next. You did not envy his position.

After much thinking, and as the sun began to peak over the horizon (many of the people had already gone to sleep; the others stayed up, too wary to drift off), he stood, his shadow towering over the huddled mass.

“We must travel to Thebes. Half our military force is there, and combined with Thebes military force, it’ll be easy to overtake those who have invaded us,” he decided, with much conviction in his voice. Beside you, finding no ease in sleep, Ahkmen furrowed his brow and stood with his glare.

“It’ll take fifteen days, and that’s with physically fit people. None of us have walked more than that in all our lives, we couldn’t possible do it in time! Even if we could, we have no clue as to what their numbers are. Further, we don’t know who they are, either. The only person who saw them died as he told us,” Ahkmen contradicted, and the people seemed split on who to agree with. On one hand, Thebes sounded nice, and Kahmuh was technically in charge. On the other, Ahkmen had a severe point - Thebes was far away, and even with their militia, there was no guarantee.

“How exactly do you know how long the walk takes?” He bit back with much venom in his eyes.

“The carrier from Thebes to Memphis, she travels by land, not sea, and on foot it takes her around ten or so days, and that’s with resting. She’s more than physically fit, above average I’d say, and taking into account all the gathered information, I believe it’d take around fifteen days.”

“And are you a mathematician, dear brother?”

He coughed, clearing his throat, and shifted his weight to his other foot rather awkwardly.

“No,” he admitted. “But it takes a fool to not see what’s blatantly in front of him.”

An audible gasp emitted from the crowd, and you kept your head down, trying desperately not to laugh.

“Do you propose a better plan?”

“Send our strongest man with a message. It’ll take him, or her, less time than a whole group. This person could cut sleep without complaint from others, and deliver the message much faster, and bring the army back in time.”

“Our best bet is to stick together. What if it takes just enough time that all of these people die at the hands of those barbarians?! Besides, I’m acting Pharaoh.”

“Not really,” you cut in, playing with your fingers. “Your father took a chance that this would be something easy to do. Otherwise, it all would’ve fallen to your younger brother.”

“Oh, shut up, you miscreation,” Kahmuh drawled, rolling his eyes. Crossing your arms, you sat back against the rock he stood on, and shut your mouth. You might’ve missed the absolutely filthy glare Ahkmen shot his brother if you hadn’t looked to him for some source of comfort.

“They aren’t wrong. There’s an issue of power here, and I think the way to solve it is to give our people a voice.”

A beat of silence passed, filled with a tension you prayed would dissipate no matter the decision, but you sort of knew that it would continue to irritate you.

“Alright,” Kahmuh turned to the huddled crowd, “we’ll have a vote on the matter.”

“All in favor of sending a messenger to Thebes say aye,” Ahkmen said, and somehow he had changed his tone in a second - he commanded respect. Before you could wonder in awe how a person could switch so quickly, you chimed in with your own ‘aye.’

“All in favor of traveling to Thebes ourselves and sticking together,” said Kahmuh, who clearly enunciated the last two words while staring straight at his brother. From there, you noticed half the people agreed with Kahmuh, and the other with Ahkmen. Clearly the brothers voted for themselves, so with that, there was an impasse.

“Ahk,” you whispered, and he knelt before you, clearly open to whatever you had to say. “Combine the ideas.” He lit up, a bright smile taking the place of his serious grimace. With a pat to your shoulder he stood, ready to propose his, or your, idea.

“I have a solution to our issue,” Ahkmen said, all eyes turning to him. “We send our fastest person out to Thebes to arrive first, but we go ourselves. By the time we reach there, the news will have already come, and if our take back of the city is successful, we can travel back by barge.”

Slowly nodding, sly eyes turned to you, and a suddenly sick smirk fell upon Kahmuh’s face.

“I agree,” he said slowly. “Piye is clearly the most healthy. That’s who should go.”

Ahkmen paled, his posture dropping before quickly recomposing himself. He looked nearly as terrified as he had just a few hours ago, running from the feast. You could feel your own mouth go dry, but it was only logical - even if Kahmuh didn’t have it out for Ahkmen, and therefore you, you would most likely qualify as most fit. Certainly as one who could run the longest distances, and had the most experience with it, and you might’ve even volunteered yourself if you didn’t know Ahkmen would’ve choked you himself.

Holding that close in your mind, you stood, and with a solemn nod agreed with the prince.

“I will go,” you agreed, watching the lurid smile grow on Kahmuh’s face, “but I require one of your guards’ sword. Can’t send me out with no weapons, right?” You cocked your eyebrow, and slowly, and so clearly reluctantly, he agreed. With a motion of his hand the guard nearest you regretfully handed you his sword.

“Take care of it. If I lose it, it comes out of my pay.”

“I will reimburse any loss or damage,” you chuckled. As was the case with most of the swords you’d seen, the origin was clearly from somewhere around Persia, cast in bronze and given the loving name ‘khopesh.’ For a moment you inspected it, before sheathing it in the belt the guard gave you.

Once you stepped foot out of the makeshift encampment, Ahkmen grabbed your arm, stopping you. Behind him, his brother addressed the crowd at hand, but did not capture the attention of either of you. Instead, the intensity of Ahkmen’s heed was focused entirely on you.

“Do not take chances. Be safe, my dear,” he told you, his voice deep and grave. Something you rarely ever heard from him, but one that was becoming scarily regular.

“I should be telling that to you,” you chided with a small smile, but the sentiment was not returned. With a harsh tug, he pulled you into a hug tighter than any you’d felt, pressing his worry and good wishes deep into the settlement of your heart. It was not for a long time that he let go of you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and breathing deeply, only then releasing you.

“You’re going to see me again,” you tried to laugh, the sound weak as your heart.

He did not reply.

You knew, that if hell did not await you out in the vastness of the desert, it would certainly await the brothers in Thebes. Any of their explanations, especially Kahmuh’s, would not be listened to. Their father wasn’t one to listen to excuses, and he said so on many occasions, though these excuses were all perfectly logical. Half the military force of Memphis was in Thebes, and almost everyone was drunk, only the threat of torture and death sobering them. Still - the fall of the capitol city. Not something to be taken lightly. As much as you knew you shouldn’t have thought it, you were grateful the blame would fall on Kahmuh.

In no way were you properly dressed for this journey, sinking into the weak sand with sandals that kept slipping off your feet. At one point you fell to the ground, ready to chuck them off, before feeling sharp rocks stab at the palm of your hands, and thinking differently. As for the nights, they were cold. You kept along the nile, but all the areas that would’ve healed your aching heels were flooded from the inundation. To your luck, however, date trees were still in reach.

By the third day your pace noticeably slowed. Dragging yourself along the path that no one would’ve wished to willingly take, you kept your head up, using your shawl to cover yourself from the heat of the burning sun. The lack of sleep didn’t take long to get to you, either. Eve would draw closer and so would your eyelids together, desperately wishing for a bed to rest in. Instead, you made do pulling the leaves off trees, if only to keep yourself off the ground.

Besides the usual aches and pains, the trip was… rather normal. The only time you unsheathed your sword was to cut open hard fruits, or cut branches. Come the eighth night, it began to rub your mind raw, wondering if perhaps you just weren’t being observant enough. You got little sleep that night, but made it through the next day with the comfort that you would be sleeping in a real bed by  in two nights’ time.

To your surprise, you must’ve sped up, ending up in the city by that evening. All were peacefully unaware of the turmoil of their capital, something you tried not to pay attention to. Instead, you focused on the largest building, smack in the center, standing tall as a reminder of the power of the rich.

Act normal, you told yourself, and with this reminder, most of the guards payed you no mind. It wasn’t until you reached the steps of this supposed city hall that you were stopped by a rather muscular woman, who was nearly as tall as you.

“You can’t enter without a pass,” she told you, her voice stern and rather deep.

“I have grave news from Memphis, I need to see the Pharaoh,” you said, trying to convey the urgency in your voice. “My father works for him, tell him Adom’s child comes to seek a hearing.”

“Sure. I’ll do that,” she said sarcastically, clearly irritated, before tacking on the end, “like I can just go up to Amun on earth.”

Think, think, think, you commanded yourself, turning away from the woman. An idea sparked - terribly wicked, and questionably ethical, but it would have to do. You turned back to her.

“Could I have your name, please?” You requested. She looked skeptical, but gave it anyway.

“Selma, daughter of Ahaouty.”

“Now, please step aside,” you said quietly, and though she appeared horrified, she stepped aside. With a wave of your hand, your hold on her could have been broken, but you couldn’t let that happen - not until you spoke with the King. Racing up the steps, you only stopped to give a cursory glance back to Selma, who was trying to get her mouth to open. Giggling, you tried reminding yourself that you shouldn’t have done magic in the first place, and that it was very rude to giggle.

The run to the courtroom gave you enough time to sober up, climbing up various staircases and through halls full of guards, some of whom you even recognized. Not giving them enough time to even question who you were, you burst through the doors of the courtroom, finding the mayor and the King engrossed in a game of Senet. The two looked up at you, the mayor clearly horrified, and the King mostly looking pissed off.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, loud and demanding as he stood. Clearing your throat, and attempting to make yourself look smaller, you tried answering.

“Memphis was sacked in your absence. Your sons escaped with a handful of people, they should be here within a few days. They sent me ahead to warn you.”

Barely giving you the time to finish, he raced out the door, leaving you with the mayor.

“What’s your name?” He asked, stepping in front of you with his arms crossed.

“Piye,” you answered hesitantly, unsure of what he wanted.

“… Really? That’s my name,” he said, nodding his head as though your answer was satisfactory.

“It’s… a good.. name.”

“… Yeah.”

He sent you away, directing one of his servants to show you to a guest room. It was certainly a nice room, you noticed as the servant left you with a bow. Nice, arching windows with a smooth floor and well decorated walls. You might’ve appreciated it more, had the uncertainty of Ahkmen and Adom’s fate not been squeezing your thoughts dry.

Not three minutes later, and a servant, a different one this time, came knocking on your door. Keeping her head high, she informed you that your presence was requested at a meeting. You kept your surprise to yourself as she led you there, wondering when the Pharaoh’s opinion on you changed from ‘get that thing away from me,’ to ‘best invite them to an important meeting.’

This room was much smaller than the courtroom you’d initially seen him in. No windows, lit only by dim rushlight****. A long table took up a good chunk of the space in the room, chairs surrounding it, filled by superiors, and at the head - Merenkahre himself.

“Sit,” he commanded, and you obliged, sitting across from the mayor. “Tell us all you know.”

“I’m, uh, afraid, my King, I know very little. I was ordered by Kahmuh not to return to the city. He thought it may endanger the remaining citizens.”

You watched as a subtle expression of either anger or horror grow on his face, and in your own fear you continued.

“Around twenty of us escaped, including your sons and myself, and a few guards.”

He nodded, intense eyes set low as he thought over his situation.

“We need time,” one of his advisors spoke, and he turned to her, listening intently. “Our best shot is to find out who the enemy is - it’ll help us decide how to proceed. If it’s just ruffians, we’d rush the city, for example. Different armies have different strategies.”

“You’re right, but it’ll take too long. A siege is our best bet. I’ll take the soldiers I took from Memphis, and half of Thebes, travel by nile.”

“With all due respect, I think we need our army, especially after what has now occurred. What if their next target is Thebes?” A man beside you said.

Once again, the Pharaoh grew quiet, contemplating for any easy answer. For a moment all that passed was silence, till he stood, grabbing your elbow and pulling you outside to speak in private. Your first reaction was that you’d done something wrong, that he blamed you for the absence of his children, but instead he only looked worried.

“I know Adom’s secret,” he whispered to you, and the realization crashed into you. He knew of his magic?

“The…” you didn’t want to say it aloud, so you made an odd gesture with his hands. There was no possible way he could’ve understood what it meant, but he nodded anyway.

“I am praying you have that gift as well. Without Thebes’ army, I can’t even begin to think about taking back Memphis. But,” he poked you in the chest, “if I can promise them a savior… they may believe me. And we may win back our home.”

It was a clever choice of words, but you supposed he needed to have that talent. We win back our home, raising you up from being called an ‘it’ to being a supposed savior. However, the twist of words didn’t mean anything when things were in such a dire state. So you agreed - and in an instant, he relaxed, smiling at you for the first time. Quickly assigning you a task, he reentered the meeting, dismissing you to your assigned room.

Several hours later you received the message that you were to look after the brothers once they reached the city, and that Merenkahre had left his wife and a few advisors, including you, behind to travel to Memphis. It was a lot of information to absorb, that you were now more or less at the mercy of Piye (the mayor - not you) and whatever he may wish of you, and Shepseheret, though the only interactions you’d had with her were quite nice.

As expected, by the next morn news of his departure had reached the city in general, and as the next few days passed, you kept busy staying by Shepseheret’s side. She had no need for you, and told you this many times, but you didn’t have a place - something you weren’t used to. For the most part, however, she let you tag along to her dinners and spa treatments. It wasn’t till your sixth, or was it seventh? day there that the survivors entered the city, the bright gold tresses and sullen makeup catching the eye of many guards, most of whom ran into the palace, alerting everyone in sight that there were lost nobles entering.

Hearing these shouts you raced from listening to Shepseheret’s personal servant going on about salaries, wind blasting past your ears as you skipped down the steps four at a time, racing to the front gate of the city. Spotting you through the crowd, Ahkmen forced himself through the growing crowd, practically smacking into you with the tightest, most forceful hug you’d ever embraced so happily. Your chest ached with the impact, or maybe it was only with your longing - either way, it wasn’t till a long time had passed that you let each other ago.

“I missed you,” you finally murmured, your throat tight as you clutched the cloth on his back.

“As did I. I was worried… well, you know. That you wouldn’t make it,” he spoke just as softly, releasing you slightly, still holding you against him. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath.

“You know to think higher of me,” you chuckled.

“You’re pretty weak, I dunno,” he shrugged, forcing giggles out of the both of you. Trailing with slow steps, you followed the crowd of nobles, a crowd you noticed had not decreased in size in the least. In easy conversation you caught him up with your trip to the city, what had occurred once the news reached the Pharaoh’s ear, and what you’d done in the lonely six days more it had taken them. He ended up getting the room next to yours - something both of you were excited about, but never to each other. Instead, you mostly bullied each other, till night caused the two of you to part, sleeping beside each other, with only a foot thick wall in the way. Not fantastic, but better than a desert.

“Will I see you in the morning,” he asked, standing far too close to you as you stood outside your room that evening, “or will you be magically gone?”

“I’ll be returning the guards’ sword in the morning, but you will see me. I’m afraid I can’t magically disappear,” you replied cheekily, feeling as though the sudden closeness was naught but natural. Usually the two of you kept a respectful distance, which was expected of good friends - but you didn’t mind the touch. Somehow, it wasn’t odd in any way. He scoffed, shaking his head, but still smiling. With a pat to your shoulder, he said good night, and you parted for the evening.

When the sun rose you did as you told you would do; returned the sword of a very pleased guard, who bowed in thanks. Afterwards, glancing down mostly empty halls, you tried to find your suddenly absent friend. He wasn’t in his quarters, nor was he in the dining area, or even in the kitchen. You couldn’t find him on any balconies either (which was something you had learned earlier that he loved - something about wind), or outside in the gardens. No, instead, you found him embroiled in an argument between his mother and his brother, all three of them somehow disagreeing with each other person. It felt like an awful thing to interrupt, who knew what Kahmuh would do to you, so you turned, and you left.

That’s none of my business, you thought to yourself, grimacing.

Instead, you stayed in the gardens, watching birds flit by in the bright sunlight. Through the irrigated river fish would swim by your feet, the bench you sat on right at the waters edge. Turning your attention to the clouds, drifting by with the gentle breeze, you tried to ignore the footsteps getting closer to you. Maybe they weren’t headed for you -

“Piye, there you are,” said an awfully familiar voice; one that you did not like hearing too often. Maybe he was talking to the mayor you hadn’t noticed standing right beside you, but, then again, he wasn’t standing next to you. So at last you turned your tired expression towards Kahmuh who looked positively fuming. At least you could enjoy the image of his childish anger.

He sat beside you, his leg jiggling in his anxious state.

“You know my brother rather well, right?” He asked, and you nodded with a hum. “Could you hazard a guess as to why I get blamed for everything?”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t know that. That has to do with your parents and I don’t think they like me,” you said, nodding to yourself but not meeting his eye.

“Not hard to figure out why,” he muttered to himself before continuing with the pertinent conversation. “There must be something that makes him more likable than me!”

“For one he’s nicer, and he treats others as his equal.”

“See, I’ve never understood that,” he said, his lisp beginning to come out in his unchecked anger. “We aren’t equals to others, we’re the blood of Gods and Goddesses, what we say is rule. I shouldn’t have to treat others as I treat myself.”

“You could at least treat your parents with the same respect you show yourself. They are, technically, not even your equals. They’re higher than you.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, letting them drag over his skin and pull at it.

“I could tell you the truth if you’d like, but I worry for my life,” you chuckled, a teasing tone, but he took you far too seriously. From there he requested you tell the truth, the whole truth, and disregard his royalty.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you told him nervously.

“Just do it, okay?!”

“Alright, alright,” you hissed, taking a deep breath. Where to start?

“You’re insecure,” you decided to begin with. “You aren’t sure of yourself and somehow you’ve blamed that diffidence on those around you, even though the only root is the lack of love you get from your parents, which is really your doing. Maybe you’re simply insecure because your brother is more handsome than you, or something, but clearly you’ve hated him since he was born, which has led to even more fragility in yourself and your masculinity. You’re unsure of yourself and of the world, so you try to take control of it but it doesn’t work because you aren’t respected by your people or your parents. That’s because you’re insolent.”

After that sentence you couldn’t continue, not with the hand tightening around your neck, and the obsidian knife pressed into your stomach, almost breaking the skin there. You kept yourself calm - there was nothing he could do to hurt you. Then again, just because you wouldn’t die, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

“I’d advise you don’t murder someone, especially not in the gardens. Can’t clean up blood from dirt, and it clashes terribly with the sand,” drawled Piye, the mayor, who had shortly occupied your thoughts not moments earlier. With as much ferocity as he’d pulled it on you, he sheathed his dagger, releasing you with a slight push and stomping away.

“Thank you,” you murmured to him, brushing yourself off and rubbing the area he’d poked you.

“It’s alright,” he said with a knowing smile. “Us ‘Piye’s’ have to look out for each other.”

He left after a short conversation with you, mostly discussing what you’d done to anger the prince in the first place. You didn’t linger in the garden long, the energy suddenly putting you off. Perhaps the kitchens would fare better times - yes, you thought to yourself - the kitchens would do nicely. If Kahmuh attempted to approach you again, you could simply put bread in your mouth, and excuse yourself by gesturing that you couldn’t speak.

Upon entering the doors of the kitchen, you suddenly remembered what had brought you to the gardens in the first place, leading to your encounter, and your subsequent trip to the kitchens. Finding Ahkmen, who was currently crouched in the corner, probably crying, and holding a jug full of wine in his drooping left hand. With cautious steps you came over, grabbing the drink from him and setting it on the floor before he could drop and spill it. Servants and cooks looked warily over at the pair of you, and in return you smiled, which put them off a little bit.

“Hey,” you said softly, setting your hand on his shoulder and trying to get him to face you. He wouldn’t, instead burying his head deeper into his arms crossed over his knees, brought up to his chest.

“He’s really, really… such an asshole,” he mumbled, muffled by his arms. You leaned in closer.

“I’m sorry?”

“Kah-m! You don’t… like him, do you? God, he’s so.. conniving-mmnnm.. I wouldn’t put it ‘bast’ him t’ turn you against me,” he slurred, his limbs suddenly flopping open and onto the floor.

“You’re drunk,” you noted blandly, furrowing your brow slightly. He giggled, still not looking up at you.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You look awful.”

“Don’t I always?” He questioned, finally looking up with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you said with a grunt, raising him to his feet and nodding towards the kitchen staff for their patience. This time, they answered with tiny smiles.

“Avoiding the quesssstion, I see,” he grumbled, leaning into you far too much. With him practically nuzzling into you, you headed down the path you knew took you to your room. Not that you were actually taking him there - his room was right across from yours, and he needed to take a nap. Day drinking was a terrible habit to get into.

Kicking open the door, you set him on the bed, and making sure he couldn’t see past your back, you flicked a few ingredients into existence. Main problem was rehydration, you thought, filling the tall glass with water, adding into it chamomile and ginger. Not the best tasting, but it was a cure you’d learned from Adom after seeing him use it on the Pharaoh periodically after feasts. Swirling it around, you waited till the ingredients fully seeped into the warm water, turning to Ahkmen as you did so.

He hung upside down off the bed, wig on the floor and his necklace dangling in front of his face. Sighing, you helped him up as he protested.

“Drink this,” you told him, helping him sit straight and not sway. Rolling his eyes, he took the drink from you, gagging when he swallowed it down in one gulp.

“Disgusting.”

“You’re not supposed to drink it that fast,” you chuckled, sitting beside him and stilling his sway as he leaned into you once more. You looked him up and down, just a quick glance to check if he was alright, you told yourself. In a soft voice, you asked, “what were you and your mother and brother arguing about?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, that. Mother tried to, um, tell him that, uh, tell him something about my father being, um.. really upset, about something… something about royal, um… duty. ’N Kahm’ said it was all my fault, but mam was buying NONE of that shit. Thank the Gods, right? Anyway, uh… Kahm’ got pretty mad, guess I don’ blame him.”

Through that prolonged sentence you picked out what the argument was about - punishment for Kahmuh for the loss of Memphis. Not something to be taken lightly, but in all technicalities it really wasn’t his fault. Not the way you looked at it, at least, though the boy did need to be put in his place.

“I see,” you said, even if you didn’t really see what had upset him so greatly.

“Yeah, whole situation was… just ridiculous,” he grumbled, falling back onto the bed. You watched, unwilling to join, till he tugged harsh on your arm, making you fall next to him. Shifting uncomfortably, you stayed where you were.

“Why’d you get drunk?” You asked, glancing at him sparingly.

“Oh, yeah. He said.. somethin’ about you. Wasn’t very nice,” he said, growing quieter as he fidgeted with the material of his skirt.

“… what was it?”

“I didn’t tell you.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking..?”

“No, wait,” he sat up suddenly, patting your bare stomach as he did so, “I meant I purposefully didn’t tell you. It’s a bad idea.” He leaned in as he said his last words, the stench of alcohol coming quite ripe off of him, making you shrivel up your nose.

“Why’s that?”

“Secrets, my dear,” he murmured, lying back on the bed with a great sigh. As his breathing slowed you stood, maneuvering him so his head rested on the pillow. An hour from now he’d be sober, you told yourself, which would be in time for dinner. No one needed to see a drunk prince.

+

“Is it bothering you?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet in the dead of night. Maybe letting him sleep in your room for the night was a mistake - he’d asked, so naturally your first instinct was to comply. Now he lay on the floor at your bedside, a few blankets and a pillow on the ground for his comfort. Moonlight kept the room alight just enough for you to see the outlines of your bed, and the ceiling, and if you bothered to look down, you would probably be able to see him.

“Is what bothering me?” You asked in return, keeping a dull tone as you stared at the ceiling.

“You know,” he came up, resting his head on the edge of the bed and looking at you with doe eyes. You looked over at him. “Your father.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting him to really think about you, at least not in the terms of where he’d be worried about your well-being, especially concerning the people you were close with. In fact, the question had taken you by surprise enough that you didn’t answer.

“Piye?”

“Uh, yeah. Guess so. I’ll get over it,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands. In the darkness, you could barely see them above the sheets.

“He’s a strong guy. I’m sure he’s vanquishing my fathers enemies as we speak,” he joked, his tone lilting playfully as his head tilted to the side. Tips of his short hair tickled at your shoulder.

“Sure,” you chuckled. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he said, shifting into a more comfortable position, his shoulders now visible above the edge of the bed.

“Why’d you ask to sleep in my room?”

In dim light you saw him tense up, the color in his face getting darker but indistinguishable in the cloak of night. Knitting his fingers together, he tried to answer, once, then twice, opening his mouth with nothing coming out. The third time he tried, he found an answer.

“Just wanted some company,” he replied softly, his hand untangling and reaching up to you. With a touch you could barely feel, he tucked a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

It wasn’t often you saw him without his wig, but he always saw your natural hair. White as death, Kahmuh had once called it, but Adom never wore a wig, and implored you to accept yourself as you were. And, well, you trusted Adom far more than you trusted Kahmuh. For the most part, Ahkmen didn’t comment on it, but you knew he noticed. Now more so than most times.

“Good enough reason,” you mumbled. “You comfortable on the floor?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied as you turned to face him. His hand remained close to your face, just shy of touching.

“Sure about that?”

“There’s not much of an alternative,” he snorted.

You remained quiet. In that silence, mild insinuations occurred, mostly consisting of eye twitches and nods of heads. Slowly he rose from his position on the floor, slipping in beside you underneath covers. You shuffled to make room for him. It was a little odd, being so close to him, especially since this was your first time. One could complicate the situation with all the intense emotions felt beforehand and after, and during, and all the dread that had occurred leading up to the moment, but in all honesty, it was just two children. Two very frightened children, who had no idea where their fathers were. With closed eyes you faced each other, drifting into sleep as his hand reached for yours, falling short by mere centimeters.

+

For a month now you’d heard nothing, not that you’d expected to. It took an army to walk from Thebes to Memphis quite a while, and though a barge was much faster, there weren’t enough to supply such a massive amount of people. Fifteen days passed and you safely assumed they’d arrived in the city, and thus you began to wonder how long the fighting would last before message would be sent, or if any message would be sent at all. Ahkmen seemed rather confident in both the army and his father, while Kahmuh thought their father was incompetent. Shepseheret expressed no opinion; at least, not to you. As the days seemed to grow longer you found yourself less interested in the affairs of others and more preoccupied in your own anxiety. Much of your time was spent alone, which was to Ahkmen’s quiet chagrin.

His behavior had turned a different direction from yours. Maybe it was the difference in the way the both of you were raised, or maybe it was because the two of you were simply very different people. Either way, he began to socialize more, talking to any servant that passed by and attempting half desperately to get you to talk to him. You supposed it would probably be healthy for you to indulge once in a while, to avoid the isolation, but you couldn’t find the energy within yourself to do so.

“You’ve changed,” said Ahkmen one day, catching you napping midday in your room. You had been asleep for most of the day, actually, until he’d so rudely awakened you by pulling the blankets off of you and opening the curtains to expose bright sunlight. You groaned as he did this.

“No shit,” you grumbled, burying your face in the soft pillows.

“Come on, it’s not healthy to.. do whatever it is you’re doing. I want to go for a walk,” he said, jumping onto your bed and straddling you as you still lay on your stomach.

“I’m not stopping you.”

“I want to go with you,” he practically whined, tugging at your hair. Mumbling incoherently, you pushed him off of you, sitting up with tired eyes. Sighing, he stood once more.

“Well I don’t want to walk. I want to go back to sleep. I did my fair share of walking,” you mumbled, falling back onto the pillows after pointing a vindictive finger at him.

His attempts at getting you to move didn’t stop there - if you didn’t know better, you would think he was trying to annoy you to death. But no, that’s just who he was. Indescribably annoying while at the same time far too caring. Sometimes, often when he was dragging you places, you wished you’d never met him.

Days grew long and uneventful as he came to the conclusion that you weren’t open for talking about anything, or doing anything. Every now and then he would sit in your room and study while you either carved or slept; the two activities that took up the majority of your time.

“I think Memphis is much more entertaining than here,” he said one day, looking up from his scriptures.

“Better gardens,” you added in a mumble, half asleep.

“Good view of the Aur, too. Closer to the sea.”

“Mmm.”

Somewhere around the two month marker a messenger came, dirty but unharmed, note in hand. Piye 2, as Ahkmen affectionally titled him (the mayor hated it), read the note aloud to the courtroom at large, which consisted of several servants, a few nobles, the princes, their mother, and you.

“I am writing to inform you that I and the militia I have been supplied with have arrived safely to Memphis. Outside the city, opposite the nile is a mass grave. I write this upsetting news in hopes that I will, at some point, be able to identify those who have died in this attack. We have not yet found any lone groups that may have escaped - I suspect they may have fled to another city, or that they have been either imprisoned or killed.

“From the vantage point upon a nearby hill I have found what I believe to be Nubians inhabiting the city. As much as I loathe to say this, we may have provoked this attack, though with the violence given I plan to return with just as much vigor and might.

“I hope all is well in your city. Share this letter as you see fit; tell my wife that I miss her and that I am sure of the safe return of our home. Relay the same message to my sons.”

A mass grave wasn’t exactly a comforting image, thought, or idea, and as much as you began to despise those who had dug that grave, you reminded yourself that the kings of the past had done the same to them. Nearly too deep into your own thoughts, you only came back to reality as Kahmuh rushed past you and out of the room. Most everyone stared at him as he did so, wondering what in the letter, or in his thoughts, could have provoked such a temper in him.

“Well,” Piye cleared his throat, “dinner is in a few hours.” With that, those remaining left. You left to your room, as usual, this time with Ahkmen trailing behind you.

“There’s still hope, you know,” he spoke soft but firm, holding your upper arm to keep you from locking yourself in your room. He stopped you right in front of your door, looking up at you with an expression far too confident for your liking.

“I know he’s alive. You don’t need to assure me,” you bit back, pulling yourself harshly out of his grip and slamming the door behind you as you entered. His words only made that sick feeling in your gut worse, tugging your heart to be just as sickly as your thoughts. He followed you into the room before you thought to barricade the door. In the moment you hadn’t realized, but you fell to the ground, your hands gripping tight at your hair. Swallowing thickly, you watched him come closer till he knelt before you.

“I’m sorry, for my words,” he apologized slow and quiet. “I’m not used to such… disaster. Not an excuse, I know. But it is an explanation as to why I suck at this.” He chuckled, heartlessly, a laugh that you did not join in.

Sighing, he sat beside you, leaning into you and gently untangling your hands from your hair, till the only pressure you felt was his head on your shoulder. Though your entire mind felt like the color black, as though it would collapse upon itself, you let yourself breathe.

Several more weeks passed before the next message came, telling the nobles, as well as the royal family and you, that passage returning to the city would be safe. The exact details of what had happened were murky, as the Pharaoh said he would explain the full situation later, when everyone was safely in their home.

As arrangements were being made for a barge to sail the 22 survivors back to Memphis, you were allowed to sit in on meetings.

“It’s rather even, actually,” one of Piye’s advisors told him, holding a tablet in front of him. “Three boats, around three days supply of food. Little extra, just as a precautionary tidbit - it can be ready within the hour, sir.”

“And a crew to man each boat?”

“Um - well, that… it’d be easier if the guests rowed themselves. It’d cut down the number of boats, the time it takes, as well as the food supply necessary.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Piye cleared his throat curtly, laying his folded hands on the table. “Make arrangements for a crew as well.”

With a curt nod, the advisor stepped to the side, conversing with several people before returning. For the rest of the meeting, you only retained the pertinent information - five boats, now, with four days supply of food for much more than 22 people. By next morn you sat behind Ahkmen and Kahmuh, the shade allowing for comfort as several people logged the boat into the nile, beginning to row the people and the food back home.

“Let’s hope for an uneventful and fast trip back to Memphis,” Kahmuh muttered, mostly to himself, though he was overheard by both you and his brother. Staying silent, Ahkmen simply nodded his agreement. You showed no acknowledgement that you’d heard him.

For the first day things went rather smoothly, clouds shadowing and allowing for those rowing to do so in a slightly more comfortable environment. By the second day several people were complaining about the speed, as well as the fact that they had to ‘save food’, to which Kahmuh tried to politely explain that they weren’t saving food. They were extending it so it would last them till the end of their journey, something most of them simply couldn’t understand. By the third day, you were desperate to get this venture over with. Sure, returning to the city, seeing Adom again would be fantastic, but dear God you wished you’d gone alone. Ten days of walking alone was better than another minute with the overly pompous and far too glorified rich people that now surrounded you.

Come the end of the third day the land around you became recognizable, as you docked off on a nearby stretch of dry, shadowed land. Growing tall and undisturbed, date palms swayed in gentle wind as blankets were strung about for both sleeping and protection from weather. On the first day, you remembered fondly yet annoyed that most people thought that Ahkmen and Kahmuh should sleep together. In fact, they thought this to be so true in their minds that the brothers were forced to sleep together for the night. No sleeping was actually done, by anyone, and from then on they slept separately. You tried to find humor in the whole situation, but what with the discomfort of the day, and the slow movement of the landscape passing you by, it was more infuriating than funny.

As you got closer to seeing your father again, your mood lightened drastically. And, as you sat in your own thoughts, you felt worse and worse for your treatment of what was once a very good friend. You and Ahkmen hadn’t spoken much, not since you’d lashed out and he tried to comfort you. Sure, his attempt wasn’t worthless, but it couldn’t be worth more than a few silver rings. He was right; he wasn’t very good at comfort. Either way, he had avoided speaking in length to you, and you’d done relatively the same, not actively avoiding but certainly nor pursuing.

I should apologize for my behavior, you thought to yourself as a few of the servants and guards set up tents and blankets on the ground. He sat underneath a date tree, leaning against the hard wood and admiring one of the flowers that had grown in the sand at his feet. Though a small smile tugged at his lips, he remained mostly stoic, unreadable chaos behind his eyes.

Gulping, you stepped forward, readying yourself for any outcome of the coming conversation. He could easily forgive you - he was that sort of person, kind and fair, and understanding. Yet he was also a prince, and spoiled, so there was also the chance that he would never partake in the enjoyment of your company again.

“Ahk, hey,” you began with, keeping your voice low as you sat beside him.

“Oh, hi,” he said, smiling as you did so.

“I, um,” you hesitated, trying to find the right words as your eyes stayed fixed on the flower petals Ahkmen was currently tracing with his fingers, “I want to apologize, for my behavior the past few days. I never meant to hurt you, and I don’t have an excuse, nor an explanation other than I was anxious and worried.”

He chuckled, turning to look at you with just as dopey a smile as he did many moons ago.

“Piye, you don’t need to apologize. I understand. I just thought you might want some space, so I gave you some,” he explained softly, patting your shoulder with his hand.

“Oh.”

“Nothing to worry about,” he murmured, cuddling up to you and holding your arm as though he was hugging it. You could do little but hum an acknowledgement, wondering how to fully express your appreciation for his forgiveness. Maybe you could —

He began to snore, softly, as you knew he only did in comfortable sleep.

“Must be tired,” you mumbled to yourself, looking down at his crown-less head. As comfortable or warm as he might’ve been, it wouldn’t do well for your spine tomorrow if you were to stay like that the rest of the night. So for a while you let him sleep, staring up at the heavens and wondering if you had any pull or say in your own life. After you’d fully gotten over that, gently you shook him awake, causing him to mumble incoherently and grip you tighter.

“You need to lie down,” you said, and he mumbled a bit more, but didn’t protest when you helped him to his feet. Directing him, his eyes half lidded through the camp, you set him down beneath a tented blanket.

“Sleep with me,” he slurred, grasping your hand in his. You contemplated it, but came to no conclusion before he pulled you down, collapsing you to your knees.

“Fine,” you half grumbled, settling yourself in. “Again, I’m sorry.”

“Mm. No need,” he murmured, quickly falling back asleep once more.

When the sun arose in the morn, the guilt that had been bothering you had vanished in a rather neat fashion. He woke first, helping with the various things he could help with. Granted, he wasn’t very strong, so he couldn’t help with major heavy lifting, but he did help with taking down the tents. You watched, too tired to move. Once the sun was fully visible in the sky, Ahkmen pulled you to your lazy feet, and you boarded the boat in hopes of a short trip home.

As short as the trip really was (you kept track of the time by looking for the sun behind the clouds that had amassed) it felt longer than ever, your excitement regarding your return elongating the time that passed seemingly slower than ever. You tried to pass the time by having small games with Ahkmen, but the both of you were rather distracted.

“I miss my vases,” he commented to you around noon, his voice quiet to avoid the attention his brother.

“Seriously? That’s what you miss?”

“Well they’re very beautifully done!”

“… Uhuh.”

The two of you chuckled, quiet but certainly there. In front of you Kahmuh rolled his eyes and let out a soft grunt, which only spiraled you into an even worse fit of laughter. Still, you tried to retain an ounce of dignity and self respect, though that was quickly going down the drain.

When at last the dredges of civilization, the very edge of what you knew to be a grand city came into view, the citizens hidden away within the small structures of the boats came out in their awe and excitement for quiet celebration. The energy on the boats was beginning to grow, and suddenly the nobles didn’t care for the food that had been dwindling away. Much better food awaited them in the city, and as it came into the sight, the ruins and burning houses of the poor did little to stifle their happiness. As long as their homes, way up in the center of the city were unharmed, you noticed that they couldn’t possibly care less about the lower citizens.

“Sad sight,” you commented to Ahkmen, who was furrowing his brows together as he stared at the charred homes.

“I can hardly believe it really happened, but, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed.”

Eventually, you docked more near the center of the city, the large palace towering in the distance. Excitement trilled through your fingers, making you antsy as you stepped off the barges after the princes.

“Well, besides all the blood, still looks like home,” Kahmuh noted on the blood splattered walls of downtown, taking higher streets before coming before the main attraction - the palace. Skipping the pleasantries, you squeezed Ahkmen’s hand, motioning forward. He nodded, and you left towards your room. Adom had to be waiting there; receiving people, guests or family, was not a formality he was ever included in. As you got closer you began to run, the excitement bubbling through your stomach and getting to your head. What new stories would he have to tell? He always had such an entrancing way of telling them, and an invasion would surely be one of his best yet.

Before you could actually make it to your room, you were stopped by a servant boy, who held parchment in his hand.

“Uh - excuse me, please stop,” he said as you tried to make your way past him, the door right in your sight.

“What, what is it?” You asked hurriedly, finally looking down at him, your breathing slightly heavy from the running.

“A message, from the Pharaoh,” the boy told, handing you the parchment.

What in the hell does he want now? You asked yourself, unravelling it as the boy left.

To whom it may concern;

I have the unfortunate task of notifying all surviving family members and friends that Adom has passed, giving his life to protect our great city. His burial will be presided over in the highest fashion, the smallest honor I may give him.

And there it ended. Not signed, the most impersonal message possible, without even a mention of your name. It couldn’t be right - maybe they’d found someone else’s body, or maybe this was the wrong name, or perhaps…

You could already feel your face draining of blood, a horrid, putrid sickness feeding off your doubt and crawling beneath your skin.

With slower footsteps you made your way to the throne room, where you knew the Pharaoh held court often. As you thought more and more about how wrong the Pharaoh had to be, the faster you began to walk, till you sprinted down the hallways, the dull pounding of your heart barely affecting you through the rush of the wind.

Entering, the Pharaoh sat upon his throne, looking regal as ever, his sons at his side and the nobles at his feet. He was obviously imparting to them some information, most likely about the invasion, and what they should do in the event of a loss of property. That didn’t matter to you right now, though, anger boiling through your veins till all you wanted in the whole wide world was to punch your Pharaoh.

He noticed you almost immediately, your energy clearly different and stifling compared to the emotion of the rest of the room.

“What is this?” You asked, holding the parchment that you hadn’t realized you crumpled in your hand out to him.

“Ah. That. I thought it’d be best to inform you of your fathers’ death before you found out by some other means.”

“You mean you weren’t even planning on telling me originally?! What was I supposed to do, assume he was wandering around the city?!”

“Um, Piye -“ Ahkmen tried to stop you, stepping forward, before he was held back by his brother, who tutted his disapproval.

“I will not be spoken to in this manner. I did as I saw fit. I am paying for him to have the proper funerary services. Do not direct your grief at me,” the Pharaoh spoke, suddenly sounding a lot more commanding than you’d ever heard before. This new tone did not deter you.

“You couldn’t have sent a letter, when you found his body? I know you must’ve seen it, it’s not like he’s hard to find since he’s a fucking mutant like me! Why couldn’t you have told me earlier?!”

“You shouldn’t speak to your king like that,” Kahmuh said, stepping in front of Ahkmen and looking at you in a rather condescending way.

“No rightful King would treat a human like this!’

You were starting to lose control of yourself, you could tell. The last time you felt this lost in your own emotion was before you went on your mission, and now it seemed as though it was all for naught. Not only were you losing grip of yourself, but your accusations were becoming outlandish, and you knew it, but somehow you continued, trapped within your own mind as you yelled profanities. Your heart hammered in your chest, anger swelling in your aura.

“Guards! Take this thing out into the desert. Do not let it return into the city,” Kahmuh hissed once he realized you were not going to back down.

“What? No, you can’t - surely there’s a better way to do this,” Ahkmen cried, trying to grasp your hand as you were tangled in the arms and spears of soldiers. With his elder brother in the way, he couldn’t reach.  You tried to fight back, tried to assure your friend that you’d be alright, but you couldn’t manage it.

The Pharaoh did nothing. As much trust as he had put into you to guard Thebes and his sons, he watched as you were dragged away, banished from the only place you’d ever called home.