#i love joking around but making fun of me in a serious manner...... truly just sticks with me
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Hey! I hope your day/evening/night has been going well.
I was wondering if you would be alright with writing a platonic reader asking Donnie if they could sit in his lap for the first time while he works?
I hope I didn't complicate my ask, I love reading your work and I'm excited to read your latest fic with Raph!
Thank you,
~Mystic
Donnie x Platonic g/n reader
Warnings na
Minors dni
Unedited
Hi darling! I’m so sorry I missed this request! So sorry for the lateness :( I hope you enjoyed it! First time writing platonic so I hope I did well!!
You’ve always been a relatively tactile person, a hand on an arm here, leaning in to a shoulder there. The boys where quick to learn that about you. Individually each of them came to terms in their own way.
Mikey, now, he adored it. He was always quick to reciprocate with a kiss on the cheek, twirling you around in a light hearted manner as laughter would bubble from your lips.
Raph, now , he was always gruff , some days worse than others. whether with a scornful dirty look or a gentle shove in the other direction.
Leonardo didn’t mind, same as April, he was pretty neutral about it. He’d simply offer a smile that showed his dimples and pretty blue eyes.
Now , Donatello was always a comfort person of yours, always a phone call away whenever you needed him. You would talk about guys you where seeing and he would .. we’ll talk about the girls that he was not seeing. It was a fun little dynamic.
You where on night shift so you were almost in tune with the weird sleep schedule the boys had going on. So in return for a triple cheese pizza and a few of his favourite sides you were gifted the pleasure of Donatello’s dazzling conversation.
“ hi don.” You greeted , making yourself known as you pushed the door open to his lab with your back, juggling the food in your hands , careful not to drop anything. “ hey there (y/n) “ he greeted, although he didn’t look up from his computer his lips cracked into a smile. “ two seconds…” he murmured, half to himself and half to you. Rapidly trying a few more keys in the board before sighing in relief. Stretching in his chair he spun around to meet your gaze. Already catching a whiff of the tasty treats you had smuggled him.
“ you didn’t!”
“ oh but I did” you grinned, offering your treats to him. “ be greatful for it too! Do you know how hard it was to sneak that in here!” He laughed at that, “ it’s a wonder they didn’t smell it.” He mused with a huff before he began to help himself, pushing his second lenses to sit atop his head.
You made yourself comfortable , before falling into easy conversation as you both always did only tonight you could feel a serious tiredness pulling at you. Small grey circles had began to form under your eyes as well as a sickly complexion.
When don noticed your banter wasn’t up to scratch tonight he became concerned. Upon getting a good look at you he quirked a brow ridge. “ are you not feeling well?”
It was so sweet, how tentative he was, truly very little got past him. “ yeah I’m just wrecked! These night shifts are no joke, I don’t know how you do it.” You mumbled, sinking further into the comfort of a make shift computer chair. “ feeling discombobulated?” That drew a snort out of you. “ I’m sorry- what?” He rolled his eyes at your response “ you know, all out of whack, not sleeping properly really upsets hormones , no wonder you feel shitty.” You just hummed in response , your lower lip jutting out on thought.
“ why don’t you get a fee hours, I’ll wake you up? I’ll be up anyway working on tracing these ip addresses.” Always the gentleman, situating himself back at the hub of all his intelligence he rebooted the monitor back up, ready to end his thirty minute break. “ naw I’m okay, I don’t know if it’s because I’m past my sleep, I just have a restless stomach when I try to sleep:”
He hummed in response before a light bulb went off in his genius brain. “ wanna watch me work?” He had already began to turn his back to you as he swung around in his chair. With nothing better to do you agreed.
Pushing yourself begrudgingly to your feel before making your way towards him.
He offered out his arms and gladly you melted into them, he pulled you up into his lap before reaching his arms out around you to begin diligently typing. Snugly nestled in against his plastron to begin watching him work. You would ask the odd question here and there, sometimes you wonder how such an advanced genius bothered with the likes of you and your normal person brain but he didn’t seem to mind the questions.
Now, the purple clad turtle could hear with every question how sleep invaded your words and began to deepen the timbre of your voice until suddenly when you neglected to answer him he noticed you had slipped away into a deep sleep, obviously well needed. With a deep relived breath he rested his jaw atop your head and continued to work. @mysticboombox
#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt x reader#tmnt scenario#tmnt bayverse#bayverse tmnt#tmnt donatello
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2 + 3 + 8 + 11 + 18 + 22 + 24 + 29 + 37 + 41 + 49 +51 = anything you wanna share bout Atmos :]
2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?
ough i think he'd use it pretty passive aggressively more than genuinely sjdfklsdj. he has suuuuper bad RSD and thinks everyone hates him, (< totally not me projecting /lying), so he's hesitant to call people "friend" not because he doesn't like them, but because he doesn't know if the liking is mutual
3. How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?
he's pretty stoic!! cracks a smile at stupid jokes but for the most part doesn't talk unless he's prompted (or has something snarky to say). if you don't know him it's pretty hard to tell how he's feeling, but once you can read his body language it's clear as day and so incredibly obvious that it makes you question how you couldn't read him before,
8. How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?
what's the opposite of loose. tight? he doesn't say it ever. winston dragged it out of him once and then never again because atmos was super uncomfortable about being forced to say it- he says it when he really means it. he says it a lot in other ways though. actions speak louder than words in this case!! (do you need anything? i'll do the dishes for you. just swinging by to give you some of your favorite candy. of course i can help you move! etc etc.)
11. If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?
dnd atmos: check for the tracker in his arm. if it starts Doing Things then his reaction to it could tip someone off that something's wrong
ask him about his paw print tattoos, like what specific dog they are. he will give you the scientific name and the color of the dog's fur (autism /silly)
winston knows his scent really well so if the imposter smells different then that's it for them
uhhh idk about minecraft atmos. if he's suddenly chillin then Something Is Very Wrong. he is SO anxious all of the time.
18. Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?
his mum :3
22. What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?
i was going to say pottery makes him deeply uncomfortable but actually he'd kinda vibe with it so. hmmm. i'll have to think about this one
stuff crumbling makes him really uncomfortable. like if you get a clump of dirt and crumble it to pieces in your hand it makes him feel itchy and weird (this is mostly minecraft atmos, who used to be terracotta before The Incident)
24. Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?
absolutely!! when no one was looking B) it was an oatmeal cookie (without raisins. he also got one for winston)
29. How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?
starts sweating bullets frfr. if he's lying for fun then it doesn't matter and he just laughs it off. if he's trying to get away with something he KNOWS he's a bad liar and is already calculating the consequences of lying to people who have the power to make his life worse- if someone doesn't believe him he will absolutely try to dig the lie a little deeper to see if he can somehow still get away with it, but whatever he comes up with falls apart because he doesn't think things through before he talks in that instance
37. What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?
he isn't currently fleshed out enough to have any secrets, tbh, maybe the story about how he got the tracker in his arm? they know it comes from some old organization he used to be a part of, but they don't know specifics and he never wants to tell them.
41. What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?
totally absolutely picked up talking with his hands from winston, mans now adds all four arms and gestures around a lot while he talks
he's picked up a bunch of different greetings from several of the planets he's visited, as well as some stuff from folks around the [Syndicate] - some weird fish greeting from Trixie, probably. apologies for the lack of specifics
49. Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?
yes. he regrets it every time.
51. What’s a phrase they say a lot?
i can't imagine him talking uhhhh. does atmos talk???
minecraft atmos would probably be like "what do you need?" or "do you need anything?" or "what can i do for you?"
dnd atmos talks like i do. the current phrase is "yeah you get it" sjdfkljsdf
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What do you think the boys’ favorite hobbies are?
I was gonna make a joke about paul's being masturbation but let me be actually serious 😭.
okay, okay. so I've kinda thought about this...
marko likes art, and I see him being into many different varieties of it. however, I don't think it's necessarily his favorite hobby nor past time... that's his passion. his favorite hobby; sunrise watching. he can't be on the sun or near it, but watching from afar through cracks in the cave soothes him. it doesn't necessarily make sense either, but he remembers as a human that the color orange always signified a warmth in him. that's why he uses it a lot when he paints, when he draws, when he looks for a new patch or pin to add to his jacket. I don't think the little vampire actually remembers much of his past because it was so long ago, he just knows that the most enjoyable moments were circled around orange and warmth. so he loves to watch the sunrise, because the color is so pretty - the way the sun beats off of the horizon is gorgeous, and he can only imagine how the feel of the heat from it actually feels. he misses it, being able to soak in the sun, but just watching it gives him closure.
for paul, I see him as someone who loves to collect things. you'd think he'd love to maybe play an instrument or do something music related, but once again that's his passion. when he's high, he often gets lazy and likes to either lounge around or go on a short walk because his legs don't hold out for long; with this, he learned that there's some pretty rad things out in the world. for instance, leaves. he finds the texture and colors of different ones really cool. however, I think his favorite thing to collect would be insects or small critters. they become his little buddies. he actually ended up adopting a toad he discovered in the grass not too far from the beach. it was so chill, that paul just had to keep the dude and name him olly. sick, right? he thought so too.
dwayne is definitely the one to revolve his being around things soothing yet... mysterious, in a way. so he took on the art of scribble journaling. he writes out his feelings, thoughts, takes on thw world and so on - but in a messy manner, with doodles and jagged drawings in between. he also likes to add stickers sometimes, but of course they have to fit his persona or else the entire journal is ruined. overall, he's a quiet guy, so I think him documenting shit is a perfect fit. correct me if you think otherwise.
ah, david.. now this is pretty hard to say. he's easy to read on one hand, but on another I'd have to say he's a tough case to crack. buuuut... I think david may be into something mediocre and calm, yet fun in a way. perhaps thrifting; fixing up old leather jackets, boots. I can see him adopting old wear and fixing it up to be more durable or overall new looking. it'd be a surprise at first when the others’ find out, but david wouldn't be too bothered. I actually see this as something he'd truly enjoy, which is why it won't be a problem to share it with his coven. cause, let's be real, the man has a funky style we all adore. It's his calling to be one with the wardrobe.
#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#paul the lost boys#marko the lost boys#david the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#tlb 1987#ask the freak
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Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You
I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!
L
- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.
“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.
“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”
L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.
- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.
- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.
Mello
- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.
- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.
- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.
Misa
- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.
- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.
- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.
Matsuda
- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.
- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.
- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.
Matt
- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.
- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.
- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”
Near
- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.
- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.
- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.
#death note#death note x reader#x reader#x reader headcanons#l death note#l lawliet#l Lawliet x reader#l x reader#Misa amane#misa amane x reader#touta matsuda x reader#touta matsuda#Mello x reader#mihael keehl x reader#mihael keehl#death note mello#near x reader#near death note#Nate river#nate river x reader#Mail jeevas#mail jeevas x reader#death note matt#matt x reader
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analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3
more and more paragraphs ahead. BE PREPARED!
i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.
chapter 63
i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her. he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail. in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.
1 letter = i
4 letters = love
3 letters = you
chapter 63
i love her fit! i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way. even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different. UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER
ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.
utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?
gojo: well, got any idea who?
utahime: i have no idea. no one seems suspicious. what do we do now? should we ask the students for help?
gojo: yeah, that’s fine. i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay. keep looking. i’m counting on you.
I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.
OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students. it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.
chapter 63
these two love their students to death. neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student. in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side. utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.” after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression. i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far. it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away. i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core. seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong. utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional. like am i looking too much into this? are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected? think about it. similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history. IT’S JUST TOO MUCH.
also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out? this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes. she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want? don’t bother me on my day off.” she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code. she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time. they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy. when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person. see where i’m getting at? they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.
the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO. you know what that means, right? he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.
chapter 65
ah yes, my favorite moment by far. look at that smile on his face.
chapter 65
he loves saying her name. he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime. notice how mei’s not there in the debris. could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force? or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris? either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo. he refers to her in a very familiar sense. the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san. in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted. he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai. granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him. he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him. he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL
since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple. who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person. while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner. gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong. now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO. he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.
now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo. they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.
chapter 65
WE were worried about you.
pay attention to the order of the characters that show up. gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko. based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond. shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first? she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right? i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.
look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto. you don’t even know it.” i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”. but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her. i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength. her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that. when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru. it’s not nice to pick on the weak.” by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke. i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop. he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.
geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo. BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo. maybe he ain’t shit too... okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along. when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this. since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo). we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.
verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke. i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...
chapter 65
these three aren’t irresponsible. geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable. seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.
chapter 65
here’s my headcanon. they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call. the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).
gojo: that’s weird. mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.
geto: you think something happened to them? maybe it’s a strong special grade.
gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her. poor mei-san~
gojo gets up
geto: where are you going?
gojo: going to save utahime! it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!
manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!
geto sighs
shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.
they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind. you know what this means? he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo? were you actually concerned about her?
tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent. the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.
----
let me know if you have any thoughts or questions! i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time. he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.” i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too. okay that’s it for now. i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3
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Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)
[YouTube AU: Video 2]
a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!
summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol.
pairing: tom holland x fem!reader
warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions.
word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)
☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video
☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post
⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.
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You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.
"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.
You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.
The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.
"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.
Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.
"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.
"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.
Bingo.
Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.
You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.
It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—
"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."
You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.
You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.
Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.
"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.
Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.
The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.
Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.
"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.
Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.
Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.
"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.
"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.
Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.
"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.
And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.
"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.
"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.
All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:
"Oh no, of course not."
"That was not the plan."
"We would never."
You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.
"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."
"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.
Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.
"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.
"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.
"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.
"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.
"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.
"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.
"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.
You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."
"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.
"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.
It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"
You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,
"How bad can it be?"
***
"And we are rolling."
"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.
"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.
"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.
"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."
"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.
"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.
"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."
Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.
"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."
"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.
"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.
"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.
Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.
"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.
You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.
"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.
Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"
"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.
"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.
"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.
"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."
You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."
It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.
"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.
"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.
"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.
"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.
You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.
"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.
"You love to see it."
You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.
"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.
"Thank you, kind sir."
As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.
You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.
"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"
"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."
You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.
"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.
"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"
"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.
"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"
"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.
"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.
"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.
"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.
"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.
"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."
"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.
"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.
There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.
"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.
"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.
"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.
Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.
"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."
Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.
"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.
"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.
"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.
"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.
"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."
"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.
"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."
"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.
You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.
"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.
"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.
"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.
"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.
"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.
"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.
"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.
He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"
"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.
"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.
"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.
"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"
"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.
"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."
"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.
"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.
"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.
It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.
But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.
"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.
"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.
"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.
"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.
"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.
"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.
"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.
"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.
"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."
"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.
You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.
"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.
"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"
You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.
"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.
"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.
"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.
"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.
"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.
Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.
"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.
Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.
"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."
Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"
"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.
"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."
You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.
"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.
"Tom!" you hissed.
You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.
All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.
Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.
Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.
Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.
Typical Thomas.
"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.
"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.
"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.
"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.
Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.
Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.
Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.
"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.
Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.
"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.
A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.
"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.
"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.
"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.
"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.
"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.
"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.
"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.
"Me," Tom said proudly.
"Well, that's a lie," you objected.
Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"
"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.
"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.
"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.
"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.
"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."
You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—
"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.
"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.
"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.
You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.
Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.
"Who?"
"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile
"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.
"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.
"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.
"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.
"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.
"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.
You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.
Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.
"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.
"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."
"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"
"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.
You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.
Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"
You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.
"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.
"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."
"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"
"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.
You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,
"Doggy."
Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.
As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.
Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.
"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'
"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.
"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.
You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"
"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.
What a little shit.
"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.
"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"
Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.
"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.
"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.
Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.
You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."
"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."
"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.
He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"
"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.
Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.
You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"
Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.
"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.
"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.
"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."
"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.
You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.
Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.
"I love you," you hummed against his lips.
Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."
With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.
"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.
Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."
"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.
"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.
"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.
"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.
With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.
"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.
"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.
"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.
Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"
"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."
"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.
Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.
"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.
"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"
"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.
"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.
You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.
"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.
You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"
Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.
"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.
"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.
"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.
"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.
Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.
"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.
"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.
"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.
"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.
You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.
"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.
"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.
"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"
"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.
"You—"
"And I—"
"Were—"
"Just—"
"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.
"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.
And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"
"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.
"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.
"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.
Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.
You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.
"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.
"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.
"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.
"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.
"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.
As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.
Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.
It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.
You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.
"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.
"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.
The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.
Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.
"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.
He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.
"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.
Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.
Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.
You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.
"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.
"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.
"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.
"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.
"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.
"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."
"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.
And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.
"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"
"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.
Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.
It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.
"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.
"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.
Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.
Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.
Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.
But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.
He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.
That's when you step in.
You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.
"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.
"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.
"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"
You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.
Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.
Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.
The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.
The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,
"Rabbits."
-:-:-:-:-
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bands | eleven
[ series masterlist ]
summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.
pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk
genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut
words: 5.2k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, mentions of intoxication, mentions of dancing at the club, little bit of those insecurities coming back into play, good ol’ phone sex in the hotel room, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (m. & f. receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, breast play, doggy style, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie
tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)
"Club tonight before we go back home?" Taehyung grips onto Jungkook's shoulders as they walked out of the venue and into their cars that would take them back to the hotel.
"Club?"
"Yeah, come on. Everyone said yes so far! It's been so long since all of us have gone to the club together without it being a special occasion." Jungkook sighs. That statement was true, and he did love being able to hangout with everyone all together. However, he can't lie - he missed you. He barely had time to text or call you this entire trip like he wanted, and he all he wanted was to hear your voice and see your face until he could finally have you physically in his arms again.
"Fuck." Jungkook does a slight head tilt before letting out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'll come along." Taehyung smiles from ear to ear, squeezing his shoulder.
"I'm sure your girl won't mind if we steal you for a little tonight." Jungkook doesn't respond to Tae's statement and simply shakes his head with a small smile. To be honest, the guys were a little surprised to see that whole thing erupt between Jungkook and Bigs. They didn't think he was actually serious about you, the mysterious girl. Jimin, on the other hand, wouldn't dare say a word and simply lent a small chuckle or smile as his participation during their 'lets tease jeongguk' hours. But eventually, it all became a running joke and the boys learned to leave Jungkook alone because as they've learned before, Jungkook does what Jungkook wants.
He gets away with shit.
He cleans himself up and throws on a button up shirt with ripped black jeans and boots, fluffing his hair a bit before he steps back out and meets up with the boys.
[jungkook] 9:49pm: going out with the boys tonight
[y/n] 9:51pm: lol cheer up, have fun party pooper
[jungkook] 9:52pm: fineeeeeeee :( can i call you later?
[y/n] 9:55pm: you can always call me, i just don't know if i'll always pick up :)
[jungkook] 9:57pm: try and stay up please
[y/n] 10:01pm: maybe lol
He slightly smirks to himself. Hopefully you'd stay up, but he was starting to realize you always fell asleep early and that was okay too. He'd just have to wait to see you when he gets back tomorrow.
Once the boys have arrived at the club of choice, security escorts them to their VIP section, the club already packed from wall to wall with people screaming left and right. There's already a few bottle girls, and other girls waiting for them in the VIP from lord knows where, but Jungkook knows he's not trying to mess with any of it tonight. He truly didn't wanna be here, but to keep his boys happy, he decided to tag along and hang out.
"So many beautiful ladies." Jimin swings his arm around his torso and smirks.
"Go get 'em, champ." Jungkook chuckles.
"I would, if they all weren't eyeing you." He shakes his head.
"She's not eyeing me, she's looking at you." He nods towards a pretty, fair-skinned female with long, voluminous black hair. She's definitely eyeing Jimin, biting onto the tip of her finger as she tries to seduce him through her eyes. Her look. "Go." Jungkook slightly pushes him towards her, smiling as he stood back and watched. The rest of the boys were already enjoying themselves, either dancing around alone [aka Min Yoongi and Seokjinnie] or hopping behind girls for a dance.
"Why aren't you dancing with anyone?" Yoongi laughs. "I figured you would be the first to hop on someone."
"I don't feel like it." He takes a sip of his drink, hand dug deep into his pocket.
"You don't feel like it, or you're too busy missing your girlfriend?" Jin joked.
"I don't have a girlfriend!"
"Mhm, sure." Jin laughs. "You could at least reward yourself with a dance." Jungkook shrugs. Technically, he could. It was just a dance, and you still weren't his girlfriend even though he thought of you pretty seriously. But he knew how this would go, and it would get messy quick - especially with the way females nowadays loved to create drama and claim him. He wasn't up for it. And he didn't wanna do anything to hurt you, or disappoint you. The thought alone makes him feel terrible. You were just so pure-hearted, there was no way he could do anything to hurt your feelings.
"Aye!" Jimin comes over and grabs him by the shoulders, swinging him around to face the ladies once more. "That girl I was dancing with is here with her bestfriend."
"And?" Jungkook chuckled. Okay, so? Lol.
"Bro, come on. Just go dance with her and have fun. She's interested in you." He shakes his head, but Jimin is already pushing him over, the force behind his movements stronger than what Jungkook can endure after the day they've had. He clumsily follows along, his lips pursed in a fine line as he approaches Jimin's girl [of the night] and her bestfriend. She had dark brown hair, stood at about 5'7 and wore high waisted shorts and a bralette-type of crop top. She was really trying for some dick tonight. He gives her a small, toothless smile as she beams from ear to ear, shying behind her bestfriend. She was cute, but she was no you, no disrespect.
"This is Yeji!" Her bestfriend exclaims, damn near throwing her right onto Jungkook like her life depended on it. Jungkook places his hands out to support her but brings them back once she's found her footing again. Definitely drunk.
"Hi." She blushes.
"Hey." Jungkook smiles back, sipping on his drink. Jimin is still hanging onto his shoulder, trying his best to egg him on and Jungkook can't help but smile and nod awkwardly at him. He attempts to back away, but Jimin shoves him closer while laughing.
"Have fun!" Jimin flashes him a quick look, confused at what the fuck he was doing right now trying to turn her down like that. But, he instantly flips the switch as he accompanies her bestfriend to the dance floor again.
"Can I get you a drink or something? Water, even?" Jungkook offers to be nice. He can already hear you scolding him in his head - pinching him on the arm and saying that he needs to be nicer to people. But to be honest, he really doesn't know what the fuck to do with her.
"Water's good, I should start sobering up." She giggles as Jungkook nods and pours her a cup of water. He hands it to her and stands beside her, awkwardly eyeing the crowd in front of them. "Hey, I caught your performance today. You looked good! You all looked really good."
"Thanks." He smiles.
"Do you wanna dance for a little?"
"Uh, actually—" Jungkook suddenly feels the both of their bodies press against each other before Jimin's drunk laugh erupts right behind his ear. Jungkook backs away with his hands up, shaking his head.
"Hey come on, if he doesn't wanna dance don't force him." Yoongi says, almost in a scolding manner.
"I'm sorry, I'm just not really in the best dancing mood right now. Pretty tired." He says to Yeji before he gives her an apologetic look and walks over to his hyungs who aren't busy with girls. He's getting more and more annoyed with the way Jimin has been acting lately, but he was trying to keep his cool - careful not to start anything. He knew Jimin wasn't a fan of you with the way he talked about you that one morning before the photoshoot. He loves him, that's his brother for life. But if he wanted to get disrespectful, he didn't have a problem putting him in his place.
Throughout the night, Yeji is sticking to her friend and Jimin, still hoping she could get something started between her and Jungkook, but she doesn't succeed. Jungkook purposely keeps his distance from Jimin and the rest of the girls around them in the VIP section, perfectly content to be staying around Yoongi and Jin.
When they've finally called it a night, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Hobi are all pretty drunk out of their minds - their asses more than ready to risk it all by sneaking in their girl of choice to their hotel rooms.
"Let me know so Yeji can come too." Jungkook waves his hand to dismiss the statement.
"Nah. I'm good, really, thanks."
"What, all of a sudden you're a goody two shoes for your stripper girlfriend?" Jungkook shoots him a look but brushes it off, blaming it on the alcohol in Jimin's system right now.
"I'm just tired and gonna head to bed, that's it."
"Whatever." Jimin drunkily responds, the four of their drunk asses continuing to be loud as hell in the hallway until they all separate and go off to their own rooms.
"Don't be loud and shit, I want my sleep tonight." Yoongi says before shutting his door.
Finally, peace and quiet.
Jungkook sighs as he looks at his watch, the time nearing 1:30am. He slips out of his clothes, takes a quick shower and gets himself ready for bed before he's shutting off the lights. A hotel bed has never felt so comfortable in his life, but the only thing that was missing was you.
And to be completely honest, he was pretty fucking horny. Having all this pent up sexual frustration just from missing you these past couple of days alone, he couldn't take it. He hopes to god you're awake right now because he's been wanting to hear your voice and hearing your voice alone—
"Jungkook." You say softly on the other line, Jungkook's eyes slightly shutting from the sound of your voice.
Your voice alone was enough to turn him the fuck on.
"You're awake, babygirl."
"Barely." You chuckle. "I'm snuggled into my sheets, but you told me to wait up for you."
"And you actually waited. Thank you, cutie." He smiles to himself. "What'd you do today?"
"Just work my shift at the restaurant, then head home. I don't really do anything outside of work and hangout with Kai, you know this." You chuckle. "How was the club?"
"It was alright." He sighs.
"Did all the pretty ladies get a dance with Jeon Jungkook?"
"Ah, but you're the only pretty lady I know about." He chuckles, making you blush. "But no, I wasn't necessarily in the mood."
"But you're at a club, how could you not be?"
"Too tired. Besides, just wanted to come back here and talk to you. I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you as much since we've been here."
"It's okay, you need to do what you need to do."
"I can't wait to see you when I get back."
"I can't either."
"You and your pretty face."
"What is up with you? Are you drunk?" You softly laugh.
"No, not really. Why, I can't miss you?"
"Never said that, Jungkook. I miss you, too." You giggled, giving him some affection since it's been a couple of days and you actually missed his presence too.
"Yeah? How much do you miss me, baby?" Your eyes slightly widen cause you can most definitely pick up on his tone, plus the 'baby' pet name made your pussy hop a little. He wanted you, and he knew just the right ways to get to you worked up already.
"A lot."
"Mmm." He hums breathily, causing you to bite your bottom lip. "Are you gonna show me just how much you missed me when I get back?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe, what?" He chuckles deeply. "Tell me, babygirl." He begins to slowly palm himself through his boxers. "How do you want me to show you?" You shut your eyes, the heat quickly building in your core.
"Jungkook." You let out a breathy moan. "What are you trying to do right now?"
"God, I just wanna feel you." He says, completely passing up your question. "I just wanna feel you all around me. Would you like that, my pretty lady? Me all up inside you?" At this point, Jungkook is hard as hell, whipping his hardened member free from its confines. He lets out a breath at how free he feels, finally able to stroke himself nice and slow. He toys with the pre-cum pooling at his tip, using it as some kind of lubricant as he strokes himself up and down, gripping a little tighter towards the base.
"Yes." Your hand slips through your shorts and your panties, gently rubbing at your clit as you listen to Jungkook's deep voice on the other line. You slip your hand a little further down, feeling how wet you already are. You silently whimper to yourself, spreading your wetness in and around your folds, picturing Jungkook doing the work for you.
"Don't be shy, baby. Tell me what you want. Use your words."
"I want you inside of me."
"Inside where?"
"My pussy." He softly groans into the phone, his grip getting tighter by the minute as he fucks himself into his hand.
"Are you touching yourself right now?"
"Yes."
"That's my good girl." He moans with you. "Just wanna fuck you so badly. Show you how special you are to me."
"Jungkook." You whine, as you slip in a finger and quickly fuck yourself with it, the sounds of your wetness echoing in your tiny space. "Fuck I'm so wet for you."
"That's it." He hisses. "Fuck yourself for me until I get back. Can't wait to taste you and fill you up."
"Want you so bad, want you to fuck me so good until I cry." You say, not even realizing the shit you're saying right now as you rub your clit and work your hips in tandem. You begin to whimper a little louder, ready to hurdle off the edge with the pressure you're applying.
"Yeah?" His mouth is agape, barely any noises being released due to the overwhelming sensation that's taking over his body. "Want me to fucking ruin you, baby? Are you ready for that?"
"Always." You moan. "Ahh—Kook, I'm gonna cum."
"Cum all around this dick, sweetheart. It's yours." The words are enough to unravel you, sending you spiraling out of control with the pleasure taking all over your body - inch by inch.
"Oh fuck, Jungkook! Ughhhhhhfffffuck." You groan into the phone as you continue to move your hips into your hand, fingers pressed tightly against your clit.
"Shiiiiiiiit." Jungkook moans as his hips are moving quicker and sloppier, the image of him ramming his cock into you from behind while choking you has him toppling him over the edge. "Mmmmmgod, babygirl."
"The fuck, Jungkook." He chuckles as he regulates his breathing.
"Just miss you, that's all." You hear him stirring in the back, probably cleaning himself up just as you are with yourself. "Stay on the phone with me?" When he does have the time to call you while he's been away, he's always asked for you to stay on the line - facetime or regular call - just so it seems like you're next to him. What you did to deserve this soft Jeon Jungkook, you had no idea. But you were gonna take it and run as far as you could, because fuck. You liked-liked him.
"Okay." You yawn.
"I can still take you out on a date, right?" He yawns shortly after, the domino effect hitting him.
"Of course." You softly chuckle, your eyes getting heavy from all the energy you just spent.
"Okay. I just wanna make sure cause I'm already planning this."
"Planning, huh?"
"Gotta put in the effort." Silence. "Night sweetheart, sleep tight."
"Night." You barely manage to say before you're off into a deep sleep.
You knew Jungkook would be back today, but you weren't sure what time. From the sounds of it, it seemed like it would be really late and you'd have to wait until tomorrow to see him. Which, bums you the fuck out. You just longed for his company and to be in his arms again because it's the safest you've felt in such a long time.
Oh, well.
At least it gave you some time to plan out Kai's birthday gift and celebration cause you still had no fucking idea. He was going to spend majority of the day with his friends at their favorite arcade, but you promised him dinner.
Were you really just going to take him to get Loco Moco from the hawaiian mom and pop shop down the street for his 18th birthday?
What the fuck were you even gonna give him?
You figured you could go shopping for some clothes? Or, check out what new games came out for the playstation that he might be interested in playing. Orrrrr find some comic books and give him--
Knock, knock, knock.
You checked your clock, startled at the heavy knocks coming from your door. It was barely after dinner, the sun still up but preparing to make its way down below the horizon. You had no idea why you suddenly felt nervous and scared, afraid of who you'd see through the peephole. Bigs popped into your head, the goosebumps hitting the surface of your skin. You really hoped it wasn't him trying to cause trouble - or anyone else related for that matter.
You slowly stood up, holding your arms closely against your chest. You tippytoed to check your peephole but it was pitch black, as if someone had been covering it with their finger. Was Kai playing games with you? Did he suddenly get dropped off or take the bus? You didn't have plans with him.
You slowly open a crack, seeing a smiley Jungkook waving at you from behind the door. You swing the door open and latch onto him like a koala, causing him to drop his duffle bag and wrap his arms around you tightly.
"Jungkook, what the fuck! You scared me!" You say into his neck, taking in his scent.
"Why?" He laughs as he gently helps you down and follows you into your apartment.
"It seemed like you weren't gonna be home till late."
"Seemed." He smirked.
"Hey!" You gently push him after you close your door. "How'd you know my door code and which apart—"
"Kai." You both say in unison.
"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him." You whine.
"It's his birthday soon, though. Let him turn 18."
"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him after his birthday." You repeat as you plop back onto your bed, Jungkook dropping his duffle and plopping next to you.
"Cozy place." He says, face down onto your mattress, causing you to run your hand through his fluffy hair.
"It's teeny tiny."
"No, it's perfect. Perfectly sized and cozy." He reassures you as he finally lays on his side to face you.
"Did you just hop off the plane?"
"Sure did."
"Did you eat anything?"
"Yeah, I ate something small on the plane. I'm not that hungry."
"You sure?" You asked, genuinely concerned.
"Mhm." He throws an arm lazily across your legs as he closes his eyes for a quick minute. You continue to run your hand through his hair, a notification on his screen catching your attention.
[unknown number] 6:37pm: hi! this is yeji from the club. :) i hope you don't mind, jimin passed on your number and said we should get into contact.
First of all - Why the fuck does Jungkook have his notifications set so that you can see what the goddamn message is on the lock screen?!
Second - Yeji?
Third - Of course Jimin would have slipped her his number. He hates you for whatever fucking reason.
Another text came in from her but you pulled your eyes away from his phone. This wasn't your business. But let's be real, your heart sank a little knowing he might have been acting up at the club, dancing with hella other girls and getting hella other numbers. It kind of made your insecurities resurface all over again. You weren't his girlfriend though, none of this was exclusive. So, did you really have a right to feel this way?
You brush it off quickly, trying to remind yourself who the hell you were before Jungkook came around [but god, was he making you a softy]. He wasn't exactly yours to claim; however, you were the one he came home to. Technically. Calling you all hot and bothered cause he missed you.
Yes bitch, please.
You're pulled out of your internal battle when Jungkook stirs a little to check his phone, your hand still lightly weaving through his hair as you press your lips together. He reads the notifications, deletes it from the screen and locks his phone again.
"The boys bothering you?" You decide to ask in a way that doesn't yell 'yes I saw her pop up on your phone, sir.'
"Nah. No one important really."
"Oh okay." Bummer. You lowkey expected him to be honest with you, but was that too soon for you? You just through this in your head - this wasn't exclusive.
"Lay with me, pretty lady. Let's watch something."
"You mean finish Gone Girl?" You quickly flip the switch and smirk at him, making him laugh.
"Oh shit, that's right. Not my fault you straddled me." You slightly gasp.
"Not my fault you fucking batted your eyelashes at me, talking about ‘can I tell you something?'" He scrunched his nose and tickled your sides, causing you to yelp and crash your body back down onto the bed. He continues to tickle you until you're begging for him to stop - his body over yours, but he was careful not to put all his weight on you. "Ouch, Jungkook!" You whine.
"You finished making fun of me?"
"You started it!"
"You're so fucking cute, you know that?" He lowers himself down to your lips, pressing them gently against yours. Your hands get tangled within his hair again, pressing him down slightly onto you so you could feel him, feel his warmth. The kiss deepens quick as Jungkook settles himself in between your legs, your tongues at war with each other. He groans into the kiss, his soft, large hands roaming up your shirt and sending sparks throughout your body. "I missed you." He bites your bottom lip and sucks it gently before pulling back. He helps remove the shirt over your head before unhooking your bra in a swift motion and tossing it off to the side.
"I missed you too." You say at a whisper as he grabs both of your breasts and plants kisses along the surface before swirling his tongue around your sensitive, perked buds. He hooks onto your shorts and panties quick, aggressively tugging them down and off.
"So fucking perfect for me." He says, planting kisses along your sides
"I hate it when you do that." You hiss as he begins part your legs wider, pushing your thighs out as he lowers his lips onto your folds. You truly did hate it - you couldn't stand it only because that shit drove you crazy. Someone like Jungkook calling you perfect, god please.
"Hate what, babygirl?"
"Call me perfect like that." You let out a small whimper when you feel his wet tongue glide against your folds, slowly poking in and out of them as he stares at you from between your thighs.
"But you are. Want me to show you?"
"Hmmmm." You whine. "Quit." He slightly chuckles against your pussy, but continues going to work - slipping in two digits and curving them just to tickle you in the right spots. "Ahhhh, Kook please."
"Mhm." He says, picking up the pace with his fingers, allowing your wetness to glaze them. He suddenly removes them from you short after, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact.
"Ohshiiiiiit. You're gonna make me cum." Jungkook begins to run his tongue up and down your pussy once more, his tongue penetrating your entrance ever so slightly before swiping it up to your clit to suck on it. He motorboats into your pussy, his head moving right and left in such a quick pace that you're tugging on his hair and jutting your hips into his mouth. His tongue starts to pet your clit with its tip - the repeated movements enough for you to reach your climax, your thighs almost keeping Jungkook in between until you could bring yourself back down from your high. "Aghhhhohhhmygod!" Jungkook smirks as he sits up, sticking his two fingers into his mouth before releasing himself from his sweats and boxers.
"Fuck, you taste so good." He slightly groans. Your breathing hitches seeing his hardened member, making you drool at the sight. You already feel dizzy imagining him filling you up with that thing, but you knew you wanted take care of him first - make him feel good, make him feel special. Take him, every inch. You crawl over and take his cock into your hands, spitting onto it before you slowly stroke him up and down. "Ohhhhhbabygirl." His words mesh together as he tilts his head back. You lower your lips onto his tip, tasting every single drop of pre-cum pooling at the area before running your tongue down his shaft and taking him. You get about halfway before you swirl your tongue around suck, pulling back with a slight pop. You stroke towards the base as your mouth is doing work on the other half of his cock. Jungkook has his hand in your hair, and you can feel his grip tightening as he slowly moves your head up and down along his cock. "Can you take me? All of me?" You nod. "Yeah? Fucking take it then." He spits out as he lowers you all the way down, keeping his tip against your throat until he feels you gag. "Oh, fuck!"
"Fuck!" You say, tears brimming your eyes, ready to stream your cheeks as you watch the trail of saliva from his tip to your mouth fall.
"You're doing so fucking good." He says as he watches you while guiding you down length, bobbing your head a little rougher and more aggressively this time around. Your saliva is damn near dripping out of your mouth, the entire scene getting sloppier by the minute, but you honestly didn't care. You were so turned on that all you wanted after this was for Jungkook to fuck you crazy hard, until you couldn't take it anymore. You were so fucking attracted to this man. "One more for me, baby." He moans, lowering you down his entire length again, his tip tickling your throat a lot longer than the first time that your tears are actually coming down this time around. You cough when he finally pulls you back, more saliva trailing from the tip to your mouth. "See, so perfect for me. Taking me in so well like your mouth was fucking made for me." He grabs your chin, placing a kiss against your lips before gently pushing you back down onto the bed. "Turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart."
"I want you so bad." You whine, his hand trailing down your back as he positions your ass up and gets your face as close to the mattress as possible.
"Don't you worry, princess. I'll take good care of you." He lines himself up, his dick incredibly wet from you sucking him like your life depended on it. He slides in with ease, the both of you moaning loudly at the feeling - the feeling of warmth, and feeling so fucking full, Jungkook is sure he can feel his tip ready to rearrange your guts in this position. He begins slow, one hand on a hip, while the other is in your hair, making sure your face is deep into the mattress.
"Faster, please!" You plead, Jungkook wasting no time to hammer his cock into your pussy. The sounds are incredibly loud and lewd, and you knew your walls were thin as hell. You were sure your neighbors were definitely having the time of their life listening to you getting destroyed. You cry as he groans, his hands now gripping your hair and tugging you back so that he can slightly see your face with the way he tilts it back.
"Ughhhh, shit babygirl. You feel so good, always so tight for me." He moans as he lets out a couple of breaths from pumping in and out of you so quickly. "Ready for me to make you cry again? That's what you wanted, right?"
"Yes." You say, but he tugs your hair tighter.
"I can't hear you."
"Yeeeees!" You whine. "Yes, fuck, please!"
"Say my name."
"Jungkooook." You moan. "Jungkoook, hmmmmmpfh." Your ass almost feels numb from how hard Jungkook is fucking you right now, but it all leads to the pleasure building up inside of you - pooling right at your core. You were sure you could reach your climax again any moment now, but you were trying your hardest to hold on for as long as you could, enjoying every moment of the pleasure he was bringing you. You didn't want this to be over, even though you could go rounds with him if he wanted to. His hand travels from your hair, down to your neck, gripping just right to choke you and keep your head tilted at an angle. Your yes's are becoming inaudible, moans getting lost in your throat that is feeling constricted from his grip.
"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart. Cum with me." Jungkook says as he thrusts harder, the overwhelming sensation enough to send you into the next dimension. The orgasm ripples through your body, your hand gripping onto his wrist as you tremble and look for support.
"FuckkkkknnnnngJungkook!" You manage to yell. He moans loudly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spurts of his cum coating your walls warmly and thickly. He gives you two good slow thrusts before he's slowly pulling out and letting his tip stick the cum back inside of you. "Ahhh, please. Kook." You whimper as you fall onto your bed, tears staining your cheeks once more. He smiles as he picks up his boxers and throws them on, tossing you your panties and his shirt to wear. You slip into them without question, Jungkook coming back onto the bed to lay next to you and caress your body to soothe you.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." You sniff, the aftermath of all the tears you've shed from tonight's fuck session catching up to you.
"Babygirl." He chuckles as he wipes your cheeks and plants a kiss on it. "You need to be careful of what you ask for."
"Shut the hell up and pull up the movie, Jungkook." He laughs, watching you shove your laptop over to him. He pulls up the movie on his Amazon Prime account and snuggles with you under your sheets.
"Sooo, ready for our date?"
"Should I be preparing?" He shrugs.
"Just want you to have a good night with me." His hands are still caressing your sides under his shirt, light kisses being pressed against the nape of your neck. The warmth, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours makes you feel content. Satisfied. Peaceful.
You felt safe. You felt wanted.
youtube
baby we can take it slow, say my name, don't let go, I can hear your body when i pull your hair, what's my name; girl I swear, I can hear your body babe
track ten: body - syd
#bts#bts fanfiction#jeon jungkook#jungkook#kook#jeongguk#bts jeon jungkook#bts jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#bts au#bts au fic#bts imagines#jungkook x reader#jjk x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#jeon jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook angst#jeon jungkook smut#jjk smut#jjk angst#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook series#writing#bands series
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Imagine Johnny that the reader is Johnny's girlfriend and is a typical Nerd who loves to read comic books and is addicted to games and her friends end up making fun of her
considering I'm a huge nerd YES AND DONE LOVE!
Johnny Lawrence x reader
Warnings: mild language. Slight angst. Fluff!
You couldn't help the wide excited smile that bloomed on your face, pure joy engulfing you warmly as you looked into the full length mirror, taking in your new shirt. The bold lettering that read captain America along with the majestic figure himself in his signature stance with the American flag blowing around behind him as he held his glorious shield. The shirt was art, beautiful and truly a masterpiece... And it's yours, thanks to your boyfriend.
"johnny I love it!" you exclaimed happily, turning back to look at the blond, his grin wide as he watched you while leaned against the wall of your bedroom.
"I thought you would, when I saw it through the store window I knew it was something you'd want" he shrugs cooly, "although you're lucky no one saw me in the nerdy store full of losers" he jokes while pushing off the wall and walking over to you, placing his hands on your waist.
"now johnny... Are you calling me a loser?" you ask him, eye's locking on his baby blues.
"not you, you're my beautiful little nerd" he leans down so his face is closer to yours. You smirk and quickly peck him on the lips before pulling away from him and looking back at the shirt.
"thanks for the shirt Johnny, I love it!" you say ecstatic. Johnny let's out a chuckle and swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.
"I think I deserve a kiss for my good deeds" he spoke while nuzzling his face into your neck. His breath tickling the skin there which causes you to giggle.
"if I gave you a kiss Lawrence you would definitely turn it into a 14 minute make out session and I have 3 minutes to arrive at Tiffany's house before I'm late" you placed your hands over his that was resting on your hips. He groans as he looks at you through the mirror.
"do you have to go to Tiffany's?" he questioned with a pout, and when he gave you the puppy eye's you almost wanted to bail out on your plans so you could stay with your boyfriend.
"yes, I promised I'd help her do birthday planning for her younger sister, then after we've planned shopping" you say reluctantly pulling away from Johnny's warm strong arms. He whines and nods in understanding.
"okay, I'll call you tonight babe" he said while walking to your bedroom door, "love ya y/n" he was his last words before he left. You smile fondly at where he once stood before grabbing your shoes and heading out the door as well.
You giggled loudly at your two friends Rebecca and Tiffany, while you all was seated on Tiffany's sofa while planning her younger sisters upcoming birthday party. You three had been laughing and joking around, talking more about boys then planning the actual party.
"last weekend me and Tommy went on our third date" Rebecca said with a smile. Tiffany let's a teasing grin spread across her face as she focuses her attention on the red head seated in between you both.
"oh, what happened on this date?" Tiffany wiggled her eyebrows in suggestive manner. You roll your eyes at your friend and smack her shoulder playfully.
"like I'd ever tell you anything tattle tale" Rebecca snorts, picking up the notebook full of ideas for the birthday and jotting something down before tossing it back on the table.
"oh c'mon, isn't Tommy apart of that badass karate thingy? He's a total badass!"
"my boyfriend knows karate too Tiffany" you decide to join the conversation with a little smile, just the thought of Johnny making your heart skip a beat.
Tiffany scoffs, shaking her head. "y/n sweetie we're talking about actual guys, not some comic book guys you have a crush" you lift a brow at her harsh tone. Of course your friends wasn't fond of comics as much as you was. They often teased you for liking comics, calling you childish and nerdy. But they was still your friends and you suffered through the constant teasing and insults.
"she's actually dating Johnny Lawrence, that cute blond boy you drool over at school" Rebecca spoke up as you just simply grabbed the notebook and jot down some ideas for Tiffany.
That seemed to make her choke on air nearly as she had wide eye's. "he's dating her?! The nerdy, quite little -
"what's so bad about being nerdy?" you cut her off angrily as you tossed the notebook aside and crossed your arms. Starting to feel offended by her this time.
"it's lame, all the comic books, the stupid dolls you collect - even that stupid shirt! It's childish y/n. You need to grow up" Tiffany spat out harshly, leaving you feeling a wave of hurt weigh down on you. What if she was right?
"it's not childish -
You tried to explain but she cuts you off with a laugh, "and all you do is play stupid video games, you spend more time in comic stores and arcades then hanging out with actual people" she laughed, Rebecca stifling a laugh beside you which has you feeling even worse. You thought they was your friends...they didn't understand just how amazing comics was, they was a escape, a slice of peace from chaos every once in a while. And video games was fun, a nice way to relax after a long day.
"you guys just don't get it... The two things are awesome" you grumbled quietly.
"awesome? You're a nerd y/n, I don't even see why Johnny would date you" her and Rebecca laughed loudly as you feel tears start to build up in your eye's. You stand up and storm out of the door, your tears you tried holding back escaping.
It was nearly 15 minutes later when you arrived home, laying on your bed and taking in what your friends said. Why would Johnny date you? You was a nerd, you loved superheroes and video games. Your friends was right... You was childish, you sat up and take your captain america shirt off and slip on a plain t-shirt and lay back down. Johnny was a total badass and deserved someone better then you, someone who he was most likely ashamed of being seen with.
As you laid in your bubble of self loathing a knock on your bedroom door disturbs you. "go away!" you said loudly while you swing a arm over your eye's while you laid on your back.
"geez you sound so happy to see me" the familier sound of your boyfriend said, "it's Johnny, i left my wallet in you're room I think, I can't find anywhere else..." he spoke from the other side of the door.
You sigh and stay in your position, "come in" the sound of the door opening then closing was the only thing heard, soon followed by Johnny's voice once more.
"why aren't you wearing the shirt I got you?" he asks while picking it up off the floor and sitting on the edge of your bed, "what's wrong?" you slowly move your arm off your eyes and look at him. He instantly saw the sadness swimming in your eye's.
"do you think I'm childish?" you ask him quietly, slowly sitting up in bed and looking at him. He gives you a confused look before shaking his head.
"no, why would I?" he says while playing with the shirt in his hands, his eyes roaming your face trying to understand what's wrong.
"because I'm a nerd... I'm a loser Johnny, I don't even know why you're dating someone like me" you said with growing irritation at yourself. Johnny placed the shirt on the bed at gives you a stern look.
"I'm with you because I love y/n. I love everything about you, I love you for you" johnny said while scooting closer to you and placing his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him, his eyes holding nothing but truth, "what even made you think like this?" he murmured. You let out a deep breath while leaning into his touch.
"Tiffany and Rebecca" you muttered while looking away from his gorgeous blue eyes. He sighs and scoops you up in his arms and placing you in his lap, you was surprised by the abrupt movement but soon melt into his loving arms that was wrapped around your waist.
"if they were guys and kick their ass's for making you even think for a moment that you're a loser" he said causing you to giggle a little. But he continues with a serious look, "you're not a loser, you're cool and I love that you like video games and comics... It shows that you have a fun a personality and not a boring one like Tiffany and Rebecca's" he placed a kiss on your nose, you giggle at him and lay your head on his shoulder.
"I love you Johnny, you're the absolute best" you muttered while closing your eyes and basking in his loving embrace.
"I love you too y/n, every little detail" he muttered back, running his hand up and down your back. You truly did love Johnny, no one in the world could make you as happy as him, even when you felt down....
A/n: it's short as usual and shity, even I know that bruh😭 but here it is, I wrote it while suffering through a party (I have really bad anxiety and hate crowds so I write while standing in a corner to prevent panic attacks)
#johnny lawrence#johnny lawrence x reader#johnny lawrence imagine#william zabka#cobra kai#daniel larusso#daniel larusso x reader#daniel larusso imagine#the karate kid#ralph macchio#Hawk#hawk x reader#eli moskowitz#eli moskowitz x reader#eli moskowitz imagine#miguel diaz#Miguel diaz x reader#Miguel diaz imagine#robby keene#Robby keene x reader#Robby keene imagine
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Don’t Gotta Work it Out
Pairing: Loki x reader
Summary: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone?
Warnings: mentions of depression; angst, some more angst, then a lot more angst, and finally a fluffy ending
A/N: inspired by the song Don’t Gotta Work it Out by Fitz and the Tantrums. I’m experimenting with a new style, so flashbacks in italics! Hope you enjoy :)
Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack
Disclaimer: Gif not mine
Loki had signed himself up for the mission before the words even left Tony’s mouth. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, just so long as he was away from you. You’d gotten into a fight—a bad one. Somehow, Loki’s way of dealing with it was running away. Whether that was because of pride, pettiness, or cowardice, he wasn’t really sure. Then again, he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible.
“I have volunteered for a mission,” he told you, the sentence short and clipped as he entered your shared quarters. “I leave at midnight.”
“Oh,” you replied, rolling over on your bed so you were facing your boyfriend. He’d already grabbed his bag and started packing. “That’s nice.”
A small hum of acknowledgement was all he made in the way of a response. He perched on the edge of the bed as he tugged on his boots. Right as he finished with the last buckle and was making ready to stand, your arms suddenly encircled his waist. For a minute, the room was filled with hesitation and quiet breathing, a spell of tension only broken when Loki’s hand alighted on top of yours. Not to say everything was fixed between you two, but the anxious energy in the room calmed a bit.
“Just... Come back safe, ok?” you said, your voice so soft, it just barely registered in his mind.
“Alright,” he whispered back. Your forehead rested in between his shoulder blades, and his thumb involuntarily began rubbing small circles on your skin. “I will.”
How Loki wished for more, for the passionate kisses that you usually shared before a mission. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen now. It might even be wrong considering how mad you were at each other, everything you’d said. Though, if it really was wrong, Loki didn’t think he much would have minded; it still would have felt good. Felt normal. Not like whatever messed up situation you were in right now.
You and the trickster god had been dating for over a year and, as any couple would, had a few squabbles. But nothing like what you’d gone through the other day. Loki shuddered now, just thinking about it. It started out stupid, as these things tend to, but turned into something much more serious. He tried to push it from his mind as you placed a featherlight kiss to the base of his neck. Then you pulled away, hugging your knees to your chest. Now it was Loki’s turn to look at you. His hand hovered above your knee for a second before he lost his nerve and let it fall to the mattress.
“I have to go now,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”
You nodded, and Loki walked to the door, looking back at you one last time. You’d already rolled over so your back was to him again, but he could tell you were crying from the way you were breathing. It made his heart break, but all he could do was whisper a small “I love you” and hope you heard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh. You’re awake,” you said, entering your quarters.
“I am,” Loki replied, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. There was an open book in his lap, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long ago he’d given up on reading in favor of a contemplative trance, looking at the flames. “And you are home now. Are we all caught up?”
“Ok, it’s past someone’s bedtime,” you answered him, catching on to the ice in his voice. “And no, we’re not all caught up. What’s wrong?”
“You could have invited me.”
You’d gone bowling with roughly half the team, only leaving a note for Loki so he knew where you were. You huffed as you tossed your keys onto the dresser. Leaning back on it, you surveyed his face, set in a harsh manner.
“Sorry,” you shrugged. “You were in the shower, and I knew you wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”
“And what if I did?”
“Then, sorry again. You can come next time.”
“Oh, can I now?”
You pushed off the dresser and walked over to him, rubbing his shoulders a little. He didn’t shake you off, but he didn’t relax at all either. You frowned and walked around to the front of the chair, planting yourself in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, but his face was still stuck in a scowl.
“What’s this really about?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.
“It hardly matters.”
You clenched your jaw a bit. You love Loki, but it’s hard to deal with him when he gets like this.
“If you’re going to brush it off,” you said, forcing a smile, “then don’t act so obviously upset and angry. I’m always here to talk, but if you’re not going to, then don’t pick a fight.”
“It seems to me you are the one picking a fight.”
“Yeah, ok. Whatever,” you snapped, standing up. You waited for him to clench his fists or give some sign he was feeling something, but he was as unreadable as ever. “I’ll just never have fun without you. Sound good?”
“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he drawled. “You can calm down.”
“Oh, can I now?” you answered with a smug smile, the petty parts of you egging you on to parrot back his words from earlier.
He sprung up from his chair and approached you fast as lightning. It startled you, and you gasped, walking until your back was against the wall. Loki menaced over you, placing one hand next to your head. He made sure to leave the other side open so you could get away if you really wanted to. You didn’t, instead staring defiantly into his eyes.
“You should,” he growled. “Just invite me next time and drop this nonsense.”
“Wow,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as he made to spin away from you. “Just because no one’s ever cared to listen to you before doesn’t mean you get to make yourself a martyr.”
Your hands immediately flew to your mouth. Loki had shared everything about his past with you. Really and truly, every painful memory. Every ugly, gritty moment. You knew how much stuff like that damaged him. He spun back around, rage plain on his face, and a deep hurt lurking behind his eyes.
“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing toward him. “I didn’t mean-”
He put up a hand to stop both your words and approach. “No. I think you did. It is my fault for believing a mortal of all beings could have any depth of understanding, of feeling. For thinking you could love me. The joke is on me, I suppose, hmm?”
He scoffed and stalked toward the door, refusing to let you see the tears in his eyes. He was yanking on the knob before you could even say his name again. The last thing he saw before slamming the door behind him was you crumpling on the ground in a sobbing mess. As he stomped down the hall, his own tears began to pour.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Loki, are you even trying to sleep?” Bruce asked from across the hotel room.
Tony had taken a room for himself and stuck Bruce and Loki together in an adjoining one. Thankfully, it had two beds, but Loki was still a little pissed. Honestly, he’d considered just skipping the hotel and going on a walk, a long walk. Instead, he was laying with his eyes open and glued to the ceiling, reliving the fight in his mind over and over again.
“Yes, Banner, I am,” the god huffed. “I am just not having any success.”
“Is there... something on your mind?” Bruce hesitantly asked. He and Loki were far from best friends, but he figured it would be considerate to ask.
“Actually, there is,” he sighed.
“Do you, uh, want to... talk about it?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose you are a doctor, after all.”
“Not that kind but-”
“My beloved and I have gotten into an argument, and now I am on this mission. So, we have not made up. I fear we never will.”
“Oh, come one. I’ve seen you two. How bad could it be?”
Loki sighed and sat up on the bed, recounting the story. He did his best to keep the tears out of his eyes and emotion out of his voice, and was met with far more success on the first front than the second.
“Yikes,” Bruce said when he finished. “I mean, they tried to say they didn’t mean it. And I’m sure you didn’t either. So maybe just try to talk?”
“Perhaps. Or maybe we are not supposed to work it out.”
“That’s crazy. Look at you right now; you can’t stop thinking about them.”
“And do you think they are thinking of me?”
“You know what, yeah. I do.”
Loki just mumbled his thanks and flipped onto his side so he was facing the wall now. Bruce went back to sleep, and Loki prayed that slumber would claim him. It did not, and he spent the whole night wishing for you. That he had never said those awful things. That he had never even been given the opportunity to know you, for if he didn’t, he never would have hurt you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You laid on the floor crying for hours. The notion that Loki would come back and wrap you in a hug and talk about what happened didn’t leave you be for hours. And then, all of a sudden, it did. Then you just felt empty and tired. Somehow, you managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself into bed, still in your clothes from the day. You waited another hour, still believing Loki would come back, if even just to lay beside you in the bed you shared and say nothing. When it became clear he wouldn’t, you submit to the tears still stinging the back of your eyes, and cried yourself to sleep.
Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately remember what had happened. You felt the empty space next to you where your boyfriend usually was. You listened for the running water of the shower that you could always hear on the mornings he wasn’t beside you. The silence was deafening.
“Loki?” you called out to the vacant room.
Only the echo of your voice answered you. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came crashing back into your mind. A strangled sob escaped your lips. You desperately looked around, frantically searching, begging, for some sort of sign that he’d returned in the night and had just left before you awakened. There was no indication that such a thing had happened.
Moving on autopilot, you found yourself in the shower. You tried to wash, but mainly just stood there and let the scalding spray run over you. Eventually, the stream turned cold as you used up the last of the warm water. You always enjoyed how plushy the towels in the Tower were, but you hardly noticed it as you dried off. Some water still dripping off you, you pulled on your robe. The mirror revealed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying. Your pruny fingers touched the reddened skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to do anything to cover it up.
“You’re back,” you gasped, walking back out into the bedroom.
He was sitting in a chair, different from the one last night, this time actually reading the book he had. He looked so composed that it made you embarrassed by your appearance. You were sure he was just as much a mess on the inside as you were, though. At least you hoped he was.
“Mhm,” he replied. “And you are dripping on the carpet.”
You looked down where, surely enough, a small wet spot was gathering from the droplets rolling off your body. Everything was moving at half speed in your mind because of how drained you were, both physically and emotionally.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
He didn’t even really acknowledge it as he sidestepped around you and into the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard the shower turn on. Summoning all your strength, you managed to get dressed for the day, encasing yourself in your most comfortable clothes. You looked at the door and considered getting something to eat, but the pull of your warm blankets was too great. The bed, devoid of your lover, reminded you too much of last night, though. You grabbed the blankets off and swaddled yourself in them on the couch. You tried to shut out the world and go back to sleep. It didn’t work.
“Darling?” Loki softly called as the bathroom door opened.
You wanted to reply, you really did, but it felt like too much effort to peel your eyes open and will your voice to work. So, you listened as he padded over to where you were. He sighed and left, leaving your quarters silent once more. You didn’t even have the energy left to cry.
Roughly ten minutes later, you heard the god come back in and set something on the coffee table. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and tea flooded your senses seconds after, and you felt your heart somehow swell and break at the same moment. Loki’s hand softly touched your cheek and caressed it so gently, it seemed he was afraid you might break.
“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.
Loki kissed the top of your head as gently as he had touched your cheek, his damp hair tickling your skin. He stood up and, though you couldn’t see, felt him turn and look at you once more. Then the door closed, and the strength to cry returned to your body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Please, Steve,” you beseeched. “Just tell me where he is.”
“I’m sorry, you know I can’t.” He truly did look hurt that he had to keep this from you, especially when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s top secret.”
You were trying to figure out where Loki was, if he was ok. You should have asked him more about the mission; he would have told you where he was going, rules be damned. But you hadn’t, so he hadn’t, and now he’d been gone for three days with no word on when he’d return. You tried his cell phone, but Steve had at least informed you that they had to turn off anything that could be tracked for the mission.
You felt so awful about what you’d said, the guilt gnawing at your heart every minute of every day, every dream of every night. If he were to die before you could work it out... you just didn’t know what you would do. Even if you never made up, you just needed him to make it back safely. Maybe you didn’t have to work it out, shouldn’t. Maybe you were a toxic poison ruining his life. Refusing to cry in front of Steve, you pushed the thought from your mind.
“But he’s my boyfriend. Doesn’t that count for something more than the rules?” you pleaded, the look of desperation in your eyes only growing.
“Sorry, but it doesn’t. Look, it would be different if you were married. What I can tell you,” he said with a sigh, and a quick glance over his shoulder, “is that he’s alive and safe.”
“Thank you,” you sniffled. “I guess that’s something, at least. When will he be back?”
“Soon, ok?”
“Ok,” you sniffled again.
You trudged over to the couch in the common room, trying to spend time someplace other than your room for the first time since the fight. Besides quick meals, you’d just been moping in your quarters. The thought crossed your mind that you were probably depressed, that you should get up and exercise or move about. Despite the knowledge of that, you couldn’t actually muster up the willpower to act on it. Instead, you flipped on the TV and pulled the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa snugly around your shoulders. The voice of Gordon Ramsey faded into background noise as you stared out the window, foolishly and fruitlessly hoping that you’d see Loki’s ship flying in.
“Monday,” Steve sighed, setting a mug of hot chocolate on a coaster for you.
“What?” you asked, slightly bewildered after abruptly being pulled from your trance.
“Don’t tell anyone I told you, but Loki’s coming back on Monday.” Steve sat beside you and comfortingly pat your back as you expressed your gratitude. “Can I give you some advice, though?”
“Please.”
“Whatever happened between you two, you can work it out. I promise.”
“I just feel so bad, Steve. I said something horrible that I never should have.” You bit your lip before continuing, nervous you were oversharing. The way your companion was sympathetically nodding his head, however, urged you on. “And then he said something awful too. And now he’s gone, and no one will even tell me where to find him. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t work it out. That we’re not right for each other.”
“Come on, that’s just the fear talking. I know sometimes the team grumbles about you guys, but it’s only because you’re so sweet together.” He waited for some sign of recognition that what he was saying was true to click on your face before continuing. “Take it from me, you don’t want to let an opportunity to pass you by; even more so when it comes to being with someone you love. You have to make the most of every moment. But you also have to be willing to work through your disagreements, even if they’re particularly bad. Heck, especially then.”
“Thanks, Steve.” You managed a smile. It was small, but it was also the first one that had made its way onto your face in nearly a week. Not only did you realize you had great friends surrounding you, but you felt a spark of hope that you could repair things with Loki. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Now, want to come for a training session? Take your mind off things for a bit?”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still not really feeling up to it. But soon, I promise,” you added when a flash of worry danced across his face.
He gave a nod and one final friendly pat on the shoulder, then was off. You went back to staring out the window, now gently sipping on your cocoa. It was still a bit too hot, and it burnt your tongue a little. You knew you should wait until it cooled, but the pain kept you tethered to the earth instead of floating away. You also knew what Loki would say to that so, after a few more sips, you set it down to let it become a more drinkable temperature. As you waited, you let your mind be filled with thoughts of Loki, wondering if he was thinking of you too. Soon, your eyes were drooping shut, and you succumbed to dreams of happier times with your beloved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the day passed much the same, with you pretending to be asleep. Loki knew you were awake at some point, at least, to eat the food he’d brought. Otherwise, he would have flown into a panic that his little mortal was unwell. Or, more unwell than just in an emotional sense, anyway. There was one point where he saw your eyes crack open and look at him as he sat nearby, switching between reading and thinking. You didn’t say anything, though, so neither did he.
“Brother?” Thor said, knocking at the door. “Are you two in there?”
Loki rushed to the door and, opening it, shushed the God of Thunder. He gently closed the door behind him as not to wake you, thinking you may really be asleep now.
“We are, brother,” he whispered. “Why?”
“The team has not seen either of you all day. Is everything alright? Are either of you ill? Or perhaps you’re just having fun in there?” Thor playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, and why are we whispering?”
“Because my beloved is sleeping.” Loki felt a prick of fear in his heart. Maybe he had lost the privilege of calling you his beloved. “We are ok. Relatively.”
“Relatively?”
“Yes. We... We had a fight,” Loki exhaled. “It was not pretty.”
“But you are going to work it out, right?” Thor sighed when Loki said nothing. “Oh, come on, brother. You must talk to them.”
“I will. At some point.”
With some final words of encouragement, Thor let his brother be. Loki took a deep breath and reentered his room. You were sitting up on the couch, twiddling with your thumbs, eyes cast down. He tentatively sat at the end by your feet. Elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands.
“Well,” he said to the floor, “are we going to talk about it?”
He felt you flinch at how angry he sounded, while he mentally kicked himself for the same reason. He peeked out from behind his hands, trying to compose himself so he could speak to you in a calm voice.
“I mean,” you said, “if that’s what you want.”
“Oh, and you do not want it?” he snapped, silently cursing himself again.
“Please,” you scoffed, “don’t do anything for my sake.”
Now you were both angry at yourselves, and completely honestly, the other too. When it became clear neither of you was going to say anything else, Loki stood to leave. He spun back around when he heard you mumble something under your breath.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he said in a too-sweet voice, making the pet name sound more like a threat or a mockery than anything else. “I did not quite get that. Would you like to speak up?”
“Yeah,” you snarled, this time loud enough for him to hear. “I said, ‘so you’re really just gonna walk out again, huh?’”
“Oh, allow me to apologize. I must have been making myself a martyr again, hmm? Was that not what you said last night? Or perhaps that was just me blowing things out of proportion again?” He looked down at you as a panic flooded every inch of your body. Loki wanted to stop, but his floodgates had been opened. “But I thought that no one cared to listen to me. Again, I do believe those are your words, not mine.”
“That’s not- I didn’t- I’m not-” you struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean that!”
“No? But it is what you said. Perhaps it was that ever condemning Freudian slip of the tongue? Or do you think yourself so special, mortal, that you care? For I know no one else ever has; I did not need you to tell me that,” he spat.
“You know what?” you laughed without mirth. “You’re right, this isn’t what I want.”
Loki knew he’d pushed too far. His voice grew immensely softer as he spoke again. Not in a kind way, but in a way that showed he was afraid.
“And what exactly, do you mean by ‘this’?”
“This, what we’re doing now. I don’t know what it is, but if it’s your way of talking about what’s wrong and working it out, it’s not what I want. I guess you should just go, Loki.”
Loki hated himself. No, that wasn’t strong enough. He loathed himself, utterly and completely. He slammed the door behind him, and immediately sank back against it, falling to the floor. Neither of you heard the other’s sobs over your the sound of your own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Though Monday was only two days after Steve told you it would be the date of Loki’s arrival, it felt like years elapsed in those forty-eight hours. By some miracle that, you thought with a tiny laugh, Loki would have said was thanks to the Norns, you managed to get yourself into a presentable state. Shower? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Eyes normal and not red from crying? As checked as it could be.
Steve had promised that he’d get Loki to go to your room straight away. You figured if you two were going to have it out again, it should be in private. Though, you were hoping it would go a great deal better than last time. You could only hope that some time and space was all the two of you would need to finally work through this.
Your breath hitched in your throat as the doorknob turned and Loki shuffled in. The door softly clicked shut behind him, and you tried to quell your worry that your conversation would end with him slamming it again. He dropped his bag at his feet, and for a second, the world stopped. You just looked at each other, both too afraid to end the moment of peace.
“I am back,” he gently said, opening his arms to you.
You took a single hesitant step forward before fully launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with surprising grace, and though he seemed unsure of himself, calmly rubbed your back.
“Can we... Can we try again?” you asked, pulling back enough so you could look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes. “The working things out, I mean. Can we try that again?”
“Yes, my darling.” The pet name had returned to something more gentle, holding the usual care and affection it did. “I’d love nothing more.”
Hand in hand, you walked toward the couch. This time you sat with bodies angling towards each other, already starting off on a high note. It made both of you feel the other was much more willing to listen to what you had to say.
“Shall I start?” he asked, cupping your cheek.
“No, I want to go first.” Your hand rested on top of his and you leaned into his touch. “If that’s alright with you?”
“It is. Please, speak your mind, my sweet.”
You took a steadying breath before you began. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I lashed out. But that’s no excuse for it. I never in a million years should have said what I did. It was wrong and insensitive. And I do care for you so, so much on so, so many different levels. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I will spend every day of the rest of my life reassuring you that I love you, Loki. I love you.”
“I accept your apology, and I love you, too.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but you knew it was from happiness. After all, several tears of the same emotion had fallen down your own cheeks. “Now, it is my turn to say I am sorry. I was unreceptive, pushy, snappy, and cruel. I should not have responded in that manner, and I should have been more open to working through the problem. My insecurities got the better of me, but I promise I will try to keep them at bay. Because I have you, darling, and I love you. And I have no doubt that you do feel the same.”
“I forgive you, too, Loki. I’m ready to put this behind us if you are.”
“Absolutely I am,” he replied, smiling—really smiling—for what felt like the first time in a century. “And, if I may be so bold, I do believe we have a week’s worth of kisses to make up for.”
“The math checks out,” you giggled, leaning in. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to start playing catch up now.”
“It is like you have read my mind.”
You gave him one quick peck on the lips before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was because he’d been so worried that there wouldn’t be. But, in the end, there was. Because you worked it out. Because you loved each other. Because you were two hearts connected as one in the crazy journey called life. And you’d always find a way to work through your differences. For, deep down, you both knew you were meant to be together, would always find your way back to each other. There was nothing either of you believed more, and you’d never doubt it again.
#loki x reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki#mcu loki#loki angst#angst#mcu angst#marvel angst#reader insert#gender netural reader#marvel#mcu#marvel reader insert#marvel fanfiction#loki fanfic#mcu reader insert#loki friggason#loki friggason x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki odinson x reader#loki oneshot#marvel oneshot#loki x y/n
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The Lothbroks’ Reaction at you Marrying Somebody other than them
Bjorn had put off speaking to you as long as possible. It was obvious to everybody that he was angry that you were marrying someone else. He fought aggressively and showed no mercy.
It was no coincidence that during the battle you two were fighting near each other. No matter the differences and the struggle you had, you watched his back as he did yours.
You were both young, but you knew Bjorn wasn’t serious for marriage yet. He may never be.
Out of all the times to speak to you, he waited after battle. He had blood dripping down his face while you were trying to catch your breath.
“How could you marry that man?”
“That man is now my husband. He’s a good man. Treats me well.”
“Did I not treat you well that you had to go running off with someone else?”
You stood up facing him down. There was death all around, yet he wanted to have this conversation now.
You walked over to grab your sword from the ground with Bjorn following.
“I’m talking to you.”
“You want to do this right now?” You asked angrily.
“Yes, I want to do this now.”
He grabbed your arm in a manner that you did not care for. You had far too much adrenaline for you to allow him to touch you. You hit his chest and pushed him back with all your strength.
“You want to know the truth?! We were not serious Bjorn. We would argue all the time and if we weren’t arguing then we were fucking. That does not make for a lasting relationship.”
Bjorn looked over at you shaking his head.
“Why did you leave? We could’ve talked about it. We would’ve somehow made it work.”
“To be honest, it was the last night we spent together that made it clear to me. You called out Porunn’s name instead of mine. You really are an ass for not remembering. It lets me know that I made the right choice.”
You shouldered Bjorn as you left him standing there in a daze.
The first time you’d see Ubbe again was when you were with your husband. He’d glance now and then, but he wouldn’t act on it. Not until you found yourself alone, that is.
“I see that you chose a lowly farmer over me? I could’ve given you so much more.”
Ubbe wasn’t a mean man. He was only hurt. When you two went your separate ways it seemed amicable then. Although, now it seems that more of it was coming to the surface.
“It’s not about what you can give me, Ubbe. Yes, I married a farmer which is a simple life but not an unpleasant one. Your father was once a farmer, was he not?”
“Yes, he was,” Ubbe sighed. “But why him? What can he give you that I couldn’t?”
“I enjoyed your company but every time I was with you, it was never serious. I would talk about the future of having a family someday and you’d laugh. Everything was a joke to you. You’d use your charm to get out of anything that you deemed too serious.”
“I can assure you that I was serious about you.”
“Not serious enough to see that what I say matters. I understand having fun and enjoying the moment, but sometimes reality needs to settle in at some point.”
“Whatever you felt was not one-sided. I wasn’t as expressive with how I felt, but you can’t fault me for that. When I heard the news of your marriage, it broke me. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
“You’re already too late. I’m happy where my life’s at right now.”
He nodded his head. “I’m happy for you. I wish to find what you have one day.”
You grabbed his hand in yours.
“You will. It’ll happen to you one day. I’m sure of it.”
He looked down at your joined hands which made you let go. Ubbe bit his lip and looked away.
“I was a young man back then. I understand that now. I apologize for any heartache I may have caused you. Just know that I did truly love you.” He turned his back to you and left.
“My husband certainly isn’t taking too kindly to your mockery of him.”
Hvitserk huffed out a laugh as he started changing out of his clothes in front of you.
“I wasn’t mocking him.”
You gave Hvitserk a look knowing he was being full of it.
“I’m pretty sure bowing and laughing at the same time surely means you weren’t serious. Oh, and walking out while he’s trying to lay out plans for raids, was really convincing,” you said sarcastically.
Hvitserk started to pull down his trousers which made you turn your back to him. You knew he was enjoying your discomfort.
“If I hurt your poor husband’s feelings then I apologize. He didn’t need to send his wife in here to fight his battles for him.”
“You didn’t hurt his feelings. Also, I came in here on my own accord. If he were to confront you for this then there’d probably be a fight, no less, a battle would ensue.”
“Look at me.”
“Are you dressed?”
“Yes.”
You turned around and were relieved that he was now dressed again in different clothes. More casual ones.
“Why did you change in the first place?”
“I thought I was greeting a man of high class, but now I can see my fine clothes were wasted.”
Now he was just getting under your skin.
“You think you can see past people with just one look? I saw past all your flaws, yet you were the one who couldn’t see past mine. It hurts to know that you’re still that same man who can’t see outside his own standards.”
This time Hvitserk made no comment. For now, he saw the truth in your words.
You know dealing with Ivar on any occasion would be no easy task. So it was no surprise to you that in a room full of people that he’d make a scene.
As you walked through the door Ivar’s eyes focused on you.
“Ah if it isn’t the woman who rejects my love and marries another.”
You made no comment back to Ivar. He was trying to bait you.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I am now a happily married man. Married to the most beautiful woman.” He exaggerated.
“Then why do you still sound bitter?”
There was a chorus of mutters in the room making it tense. Ivar looked away from you smiling bitterly as he chuckled.
“You must be mistaken. I merely wanted to share the joy I’ve been experiencing since you left me. I may be boneless but the man you married is spineless.”
Ivar was now mere inches from your face. He had a way of looking at people to make them feel uncomfortable, but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“Ivar if you would please give her some space. She is after all carrying.”
Ivar looked perplexed. He searched your face for any hint of falseness before looking down at your stomach.
“You’re,” he gulped. “You are with child?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want anyone else to know.” You looked over at the advisor of your husband, not at all pleased with his lack of discretion.
“Everybody out.”
“I would not advise that,” the advisor spoke up.
“I advise you to leave before I make an example out of you for not listening.”
Right away everybody started to leave in a hurry. Ivar waited until the last man closed the doors.
“You are with child so soon after your marriage.” When you didn’t say anything, he continued on. “Do you know if it’s mine?”
His tone had changed from when he first saw you up until now.
“I honestly don’t know Ivar. Although, considering you can’t have children I thought that it mustn’t be yours.”
“The timing doesn’t sit right with me. You are either saying your husband is extremely potent which is unlikely or that you’re afraid to admit that you’re bound to me with our miracle child.”
At this, Ivar had his hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.
“You know which one is true.” Ivar held you close as his lips were pressing on your neck. “You’re bound to me... forever.”
You pulled away from him and stood your ground.
“We’ll just see about that.”
Tagged: @belovedcherry @lordsexmachine @lol-haha-joke @mariaenchanted @ethereallysimple
#bjorn lothbrok#Bjorn ironside#Bjorn ragnarsson#Bjorn imagine#Bjorn x reader#Ubbe Lothbrok#ubbe ragnarsson#Ubbe imagine#Ubbe x reader#Hvitserk Lothbrok#Hvitserk Imagine#Hvitserk ragnarsson#Hvitserk x reader#Ivar the boneless#Ivar ragnarsson#Ivar Lothbrok#Ivar Imagine#Ivar x reader#Vikings#Vikings fanfiction#ragnarssons
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somewhere only we know | doyoung (m)
title: somewhere only we know
pairing: elf!doyoung x dryad!reader
genre: fantasy, major angst, fluff, smut, royal!au, 1800s!au
summary: as the Crown Prince faces increasing pressure to select a wife, he finally falls in love over the course of a summer—charmed by the sounds of nature and a mysterious tree nymph.
word count: 32,000+
warnings: major character death, descriptions of death, familial conflict, discrimination/prejudice (both regarding familial lineage and species), classism, physical violence, descriptions of fire, voyeurism (but not in a kink context), strict gender roles/gender stereotypes, sexism/sexist language, some sexual jokes/vulgar language, outdoor sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (don’t try at home)
a/n: this felt like writing a movie, especially towards the end, and i am TIYADDD. i usually actively avoid writing this many characters/plot points because it gets hard to keep things organized, so this fic was a serious test of my abilities lol... there may or may not be an epilogue after this, but that depends on the audience’s (y’all) interest in one
as always, let’s keep in mind this is just fiction and not a judgment of or truly accurate representation of the personalities of any of the idols depicted in this story.
@constipation08 thank you for the request and fic idea, this has been a wild ass ride lmao 😭
“Why do we have to leave the kingdom?! I was doing just fine right here!”
“Because our parents say we have to,” Mark replies nonchalantly, already growing weary of hearing Donghyuck’s griping about the King and Queen’s decision. The younger male throws himself onto his bed beside Mark, sighing loudly the entire time.
Donghyuck turns over on his back to give Mark a look. “But why do we need to leave to take gentlemen’s lessons? None of us here need to learn how to be gentlemen, we already are. At least, I am.”
“Your behavior is saying otherwise,” Doyoung counters, watching the two younger men from the bedroom’s doorway. “Perhaps it won’t be that bad. You’ll get to get away from the kingdom for a few months. It’s almost like a vacation.”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “No vacation I’ve ever heard of involves work.”
“I don’t know, I’m a bit interested,” Mark says. “Everyone says Eupheme has the best gentlemen’s tutors in the country, so maybe it’ll be—”
“Ugh, don’t say fun.” Donghyuck grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and smacks Mark across the face with it, causing the other man to yelp in surprise and topple over. They soon become embroiled in a battle of who can land the most hits with their respective pillows, which eventually evolves into them wrestling each other.
“See, this is why mother and father say you all need etiquette lessons. It’s like everything you learned as kids evaporated as soon as you hit puberty.” Doyoung shakes his head, but he also can’t help but laugh a little at their continual bickering. “You’ll spend a few months in the company of the other princes, too, so it’s not all bad. I really don’t know why you’re complaining.”
“Maybe because he won’t get to see Nayeon while he’s gone,” Mark says this while Donghyuck has him in a headlock, and the younger boy’s grip tightens around his neck.
“Shut up, Mark!”
Doyoung snorts. “Oh, how could I forget?” Nayeon was the daughter of a local lawmaker and someone who Donghyuck had obviously fancied for a while. Nayeon seemed to enjoy his company well enough, and she was undoubtedly within a proper social standing that everyone approved of, should marriage ever come into question. And, perhaps most importantly, she was also of elven blood. Nevertheless, there was talk that her heart had already been captured by another. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe she’ll realize she really is in love with you while you’re gone.”
“Or she’ll enjoy the sweet silence she gets without hearing Donghyuck chatting her ear off at every available moment.” This comment from Mark sends them into another bout of rolling around on the bed, trying to land hits on each other.
“I pity your future wife,” Donghyuck huffs as Mark tries to overtake him. “She’ll get the title of princess in exchange for what? A husband who will be too frightened to peel the sheets back on her first night!”
Doyoung rolls his eyes when he sees the fighting clearly isn’t coming to an end any time soon. Despite that, he certainly isn’t inclined to try to break them up; the last time he got in the middle of one of their scuffles, he ended up with an accidental black eye. The thought of trying to explain to the public what had happened was too embarrassing for words, and he was resigned to stay confined to the castle as it healed.
It would not surprise him if that incident were a part of the equation that finally convinced their parents to send them away for additional royal training. He, for one, isn’t complaining about it.
Doyoung waves his hand and decides to take his leave, quickly tiring of their theatrics. “You two have fun, then. Try not to kill each other; we’re expected to arrive in Eupheme all in one piece.”
They spend the next few days making the necessary preparations to leave for Eupheme—picking out luggage, selecting which outfits to bring, and deciding which guards will accompany them. Their parents have already arranged for them to stay with the King and Queen of Eupheme, who they are long-time friends of, and their three sons, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung. Once there, Jungwoo, Mark, Donghyuck, and Sicheng will receive gentlemen’s tutoring alongside the younger three men.
Though they have been to Eupheme and the King and Queen’s home in the past as adolescents, their destination this time is a little different, with a new royal castle only just coming to completion a few years back. The King of Eupheme, always one to pull out all the stops with luxury and extravagance, had seen it fit to build a bigger and more attractive castle in the very center of the kingdom. Their old mansion would go to the oldest son and Crown Prince, Jeno, whenever he married.
The King and Queen of Ceres decide to appoint Doyoung as a chaperone for the boys because of his seniority as Crown Prince—and also because he’s the only older brother they’ll even attempt to listen to. Yuta and Jaehyun stay behind to handle other royal affairs and ambassadorial duties in Doyoung’s place. Some members of the Royal Court are far from thrilled by Doyoung’s departure and Yuta’s taking over a portion of his responsibilities in his absence, but they also know better than to air their grievances out in the open where any of the family could hear.
Yuta is initially not too pleased about being left out of the trip, but he knows there are obligations to attend to in Ceres. He also won’t deny that he relishes being given this role to play, feeling like he has obtained some heightened level of importance within the family for the first time in a long time. He tries not to be so conspicuous about how often he thinks about the position of Crown Prince, and what it might be like if he were only a year older and born of the same mother as his brothers. Yuta tends to think of himself as a master actor in maintaining his unfazed façade concerning his lowered station within the family, with no one the wiser. Well, except for the one he can trust.
Jaehyun, on the other hand, is not nearly so chagrined by having to stay as Yuta is. But of course, leaving would mean having to pause his budding romance with the daughter of the Marquess, so he’s more than willing to stay if tasked to do so.
The day of their departure comes fast. Soon, they’re all standing outside the castle as the servants load the men’s things into several of their stagecoaches. The five of them bid their farewells to their parents and two brothers, if a bit over-exaggeratedly.
“I hope you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone,” Donghyuck says, crowding up to Jaehyun and annoying him with kissy faces.
Jaehyun smiles and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Try not to torment our cousins too much.” Even with his joking, he gives the younger boy a hug and pets his hair before letting him go off to bother Yuta.
Doyoung is already there talking with Yuta, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Take care of things while I’m gone, yeah? If there’s anyone around here who can do it, it’s you.”
“Of course, brother. I always honor my duties.” Then Yuta smirks. “Don’t let Jaehyun hear you saying that, though.”
Sicheng isn’t happy about being separated from Yuta for a span of months, but he doesn’t complain in front of the others about it. He simply gives his brother a long hug, sighing into his shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Yuta insists, trying to get Sicheng to wipe the pout off his face. “Look at the bright side of it. When you come back, you’ll finally have some proper manners.” Yuta gently pinches his ear and Sicheng makes a face at that, though his lips quirk up in a small smile.
“Maybe. For their sake, perhaps these lessons won’t go to complete waste.” Sicheng glances at his other brothers as he says this, and he gives Yuta another nod before walking to one of the stagecoaches.
“Do take care of your brothers,” the Queen says to Doyoung, fixing his collar and patting his shoulders like she often did when he was smaller. Then she sighs. “We have not been parted for such a long time in years. Hurry back, my son…and please remember to be patient with them…you know how they can be.”
Doyoung smiles as she pats his cheek, though he feels a little embarrassed at his mother’s fussing over him. “I promise everything will go well, mother. We’ll be back before you know it.”
Sicheng and Mark take one stagecoach while Doyoung, Donghyuck, and Jungwoo take the other; their guards and servants have another two to themselves. After everyone is loaded in, they wave goodbye to the King and Queen as they ride away from the castle and towards a summer ahead in Eupheme.
In the stagecoaches, it takes a journey of nearly three days to reach Eupheme. By then, everyone is more than ready to get some space away from each other. Their stagecoaches are more finely outfitted than the ones used for public travel by the common folk, but that still doesn’t make them pleasant to keep an extended stay in. There’s nothing quite like being stowed up in one small space with your siblings for days to realize the value of alone time.
The castle, they find out as they ride along the path leading to it, sits not too far from a nearby village. Beyond that village, an expansive forest stretches out along the land. As to be expected, new property comes with new people and sights.
The princes had not last visited Eupheme since before the new castle was completed; now, all this newness comes as a welcome surprise. Donghyuck and Jungwoo press their faces up against the stagecoach window to catch glimpses of the village through the trees as they drive past. It’s raining lightly outside, and the waterdrops slide against the windowpanes as they peer out, obscuring their vision slightly.
Doyoung can already see the rapt excitement in their eyes. “Remember we didn’t come here to play in the village all day,” Doyoung tells the others, sighing deeply as he already knows what their plans will be
“Doesn’t mean we won’t, brother,” Jungwoo chuckles, and Donghyuck voices his agreement.
In Sicheng and Mark’s stagecoach, they also look at the scenery with fascination.
“It’s quite different from their old home,” Sicheng remarks. “But prettier.”
Mark presses his palm against the stagecoach’s interior wall, beside the windowpane, and focuses his energy to create a small portal to the outside. He sticks his hand through it to feel the raindrops pattering against his fingers; the air outside is humid and sticky.
“Showboat. You could’ve just opened the window,” Sicheng points out, though he smirks in amusement.
Their cousins’ castle is a grand thing. It’s similar to their own in many ways, but one thing the Euphemian royals have always prided themselves on is their outstanding landscaping. Their front lawn, backyard, and the surrounding fields create a vast world of their own, filled with intricately-shaped hedges, rare flowers, unique stone statues, and even a winding maze of greenery leading to the castle’s front entrance. It was more than enough land for anyone to get lost in for days. One could spend a week just traversing their entire property alone—forget the village and forest.
As their entourage of stagecoaches makes its way through the path to the mansion, the men talk more excitedly with each other, planning the things they hope to do once they get settled in. The King and Queen of Eupheme and their three sons are already standing in front of the castle steps ready to greet them once they arrive.
“Doyoung!” Jeno calls out the prince’s name as soon as he sees his head pop out of the window, and Doyoung waves excitedly to the younger man as he and the others get out.
Once all five men exit the carriage, they bow to the King and Queen.
“It is so good to see you all again after such a long time,” the Queen says, clasping her hands together with a warm smile.
“Surely, you’ve all grown into fine young men.” The King is a big, intimidating man, even for someone of his rank, and the current smile he wears does little to take away from that fact, but the five men return the gesture all the same.
The men get reacquainted with their cousins as the servants unload their things from the stagecoaches.
“You’ve grown up so much. Let me look at you,” Doyoung says, fawning over Jeno as the other men look on and laugh.
“You act worse than a parent,” Jungwoo says, giggling at Jeno’s blushing face.
Sicheng nods his agreement, looking at the two with an embarrassed expression. “Quite obviously—why do you think they picked him to be our chaperone?”
“Come on, we’ll give you a tour around the castle,” Jisung says, excitedly pulling Mark and Donghyuck along with him as he heads for the castle steps.
“I think we’ll be walking around for an entire day.” Donghyuck snickers. “It’s huge.”
Jisung grins, a knowing glance in his eyes. “An entire day? Oh, cousin, that’s just the east wing.”
Unsurprisingly, the group of brothers aren’t immediately unleashed to go exploring in the village.
Their tutors have them settle into a couple weeks of lessons before adding unsupervised free time to their schedules for them to do whatever they please with. It’s not a lot at first—only 30 minutes at a time—but Doyoung knows that’s more than enough time for them to get into trouble, if they so wish.
The men were hardly impressed with being treated like reckless children and would take whatever chance they could to escape the tutors’ watchful eyes, which meant staying on their best behavior and trying to adhere to all their professors’ instructions until they were granted more leniency.
By that point, their instructors were almost being driven crazy by the men’s frequent and not-so-subtle side conversations about what they’d see in the village once they finally got there.
“Alright, here is your first free break of the day. Go on, make use of it. I say, I’ve never seen a bunch of royals so infatuated with what the commoners are doing,” their music tutor exclaims, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you much rather stay in here where things are clean and predictable and safe—and most importantly, clean?”
“Hmm, no. Clean’s boring!” Donghyuck counters, and he’s the first one to take off and leave the room once he’s gathered all his things. The rest of the men soon trail out of the room after him, with Doyoung heading up the rear. By their parents’ request, he usually sits in on their lessons to make sure they follow their tutors’ orders, or to help them out with whatever questions they have if the teacher is preoccupied with someone else.
“Are you all going to accompany us?” Donghyuck asks Jeno after the older man catches up to him in the hallway.
Jeno gives him a suspicious look. “Accompany you where?”
Donghyuck lowers his voice to prevent Doyoung from overhearing their conversation. “We’re going to visit the village today, see the lay of the land. There’s no time to waste, so if you want to come…”
Jeno shakes his head, a slightly unimpressed look coloring his features. “You go on ahead. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a thousand times before.”
Donghyuck looks at him skeptically, then claps a hand on his back. “Suit yourself!”
It doesn’t take long for Donghyuck to convince Sicheng, Jungwoo, and Mark to use their free time to go to the village with him, and they decide to take the horses to shorten the time it’ll take to get there. They bypass their rooms and head straight outside for the stable, leaving their books and writing utensils sitting in a heap in a corner to avoid wasting any precious time with putting their things away.
While they’re out in the stable, Donghyuck fawns endlessly over the horses. He’s particularly drawn to an all-black one with a shiny coat and an impossibly long mane. Her expressions are almost elven-like, her eyes showing a certain eerie understanding of the words he speaks to her. A large golden label on her stall reads Lily in black curly lettering.
“She’s amazing,” Donghyuck says, gently stroking her muzzle as she peers at him with her huge black eyes. Mark and Jungwoo come over to take a look at the mare, and Mark agrees to Donghyuck’s observation, grinning softly as he brushes his fingers along Lily’s soft coat. Their moment is suddenly disturbed, however, by a voice coming from the stable entrance. The three of them jump a little in surprise.
“Where are you all going?” It’s Doyoung, of course. Donghyuck scoffs and rolls his eyes, trying to ignore his older brother as he keeps petting the horse.
“We’re going out,” Sicheng says, laughing from the other side of the stable as he leads one of the horses out of its stall.
“Obviously, but where?” Doyoung walks further into the stable with the other boys, though he screws up his face at the strong smell of horse and hay. Much like the others, riding horses is an activity he quite fancies, but he doesn’t enjoy the smell of it.
“Leave us for once, brother, please! If you come with us, it’s just going to spoil the mood. Between the tutors and the King and Queen, we have enough overbearing people breathing down our necks.” Mark shushes Donghyuck at that, as if he half expects the King and Queen themselves to come out from the shadows and reprimand them.
Doyoung crosses his arms. “I have no intentions of stopping you, but I’m also not going to let you return here with a herd of angry townspeople on your tail if you do something to set them off.”
“Yes, which means you’ll stop us from doing anything fun,” Sicheng retorts, nearly pouting. He’s used his sad eyes and natural charm on his older brothers to get his way in many situations in the past, but Doyoung isn’t budging this time.
“Doyoung is going to come regardless, can the rest of you just bear with it so we can leave?” Jungwoo says impatiently, leading one of the other horses out and fixing its saddle on. “We don’t have all day to argue.”
“Fine.” Sicheng and Donghyuck aren’t thrilled about the prospect of having their older brother tag along to thwart any mischievous plans they might’ve had. They don’t truly hate it, though; they rarely miss an opportunity to try to get on his nerves if they can, and now is no exception.
After they’ve all picked a steed, they mount their horses and take off to leave the castle.
On the horses, it takes only 5 or 6 minutes to reach the village rather than the 20 minutes they’d spend walking there. When they get there, they are greeted by a sign that reads Arthenia Village. It shows obvious signs of wear, but it looks to have been recently covered with a fresh coat of green paint.
From the first glance, it’s easy to tell that the small town mostly consists of supernatural beings—though they could figure that from the atmosphere alone. The air is thick with magic, and it dances across their skin like static. Fairies and orcs and the occasional elf like themselves walk, ride, or fly through the streets, plus many more beings beyond those. Even a small portion of humans live there, though they blend in almost seamlessly with the others—except for their lack of a magical aura.
Some townspeople stop to watch the men enter the village as they trot down the cobbled streets on their horses, all dressed up in their fineries. In the men’s own eyes, their outfits are quite average for a day of schooling, but the villagers rarely see such luxury in their daily lives.
The townspeople are not really used to interacting with royalty, due to the castle’s inhabitants mostly keeping to their own circles of nobility—and seeing everyone else as beneath them, even if they don’t immediately concede to it. Some villagers are in awe of their entrance, while others look on with expressions of contempt. Donghyuck doesn’t mind the glares, though, and waves excitedly to anyone who’ll wave back.
“I wonder about you sometimes,” Mark says to the younger man, and he narrowly avoids Donghyuck trying to reach out and swipe him off his horse.
They eventually dismount the horses and tie them up at a nearby stall so they can walk around the Market Square. There’s little danger of anyone trying to make off with one of the animals; their saddles decorated with the royal colors and insignia would immediately incriminate any person who’d attempt it. And in any case, a punishment of being sent to the guillotine is more than enough to keep potential thieves away.
Arthenia may be small, but it’s still filled with a distinct culture and a sense of hominess, with people selling their homemade wares and groups of little kids playing and weaving through the streets. A group of girls gathered at a small jewelry shop whisper animatedly among themselves as they watch the men walk by, and they freeze when Doyoung meets their eyes. He waves to them with a warm smile on his face, just as he was taught to do, and they wave back enthusiastically, their free hands covering their mouths to disguise their giggles.
Jungwoo quickly becomes entangled in a game of Horseshoes with a group of adolescents who bet he can’t beat them at their own game. And, despite Sicheng’s earlier complaints, he ends up trailing behind Doyoung for most of their trip, unsure how to interact with the villagers except for following his etiquette training and simply smiling politely at them. If he were in an “I told you so” kind of mood, Doyoung might’ve pointed out the irony of the situation, but he decides to let it be, knowing Sicheng is still trying to adjust.
At the very edge of the village, a small dirt pathway gives way to the same forest they saw on their way to the castle. The expanse of the forest is easier to see when outside of Arthenia itself; it spreads like a thick patch of dark green against the lighter green fields and hills. Up close and personal, though, the forest entrance is thick with foliage, making it hard to see through. The unknown nature of it beckons. Donghyuck catches Mark’s eyes lingering in that direction, and he comes up next to the older man, throwing his arm across his shoulders.
“Is that our next conquest?” he proposes, mischief written across his face. “Want to see what lies there?”
Mark looks back at him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’m willing if you are.”
A seller at a nearby stall—an elderly orc—overhears their conversation and shakes his head, chuckling as if he’s just heard something utterly ridiculous. “Young men...don’t go in there with bad intentions. The women will drive you out.”
Donghyuck and Mark turn to him with confusion written on their faces. “Women?”
“There are women who live in the trees,” the seller continues. “They protect the trees, protect the forest. Everything there is under their dominion. Before you step foot in there, make sure you’re thinking with your head up top,” he taps a finger against the side of his head, “and not the one between your legs.”
“U-um, that wasn’t—alright.” Mark is openly flustered at being called out, and Donghyuck only laughs, steering Mark away from the stall and back towards the heart of the village.
“Don’t get so discomfited about it, brother. Desires of the flesh are natural for men.” Donghyuck slaps Mark on the chest, and the other coughs a bit at the sudden hit.
“But do you think he said that just to deter us? Or is it true?”
“I’d say there’s only one way to find out.”
Sicheng turns a corner and nearly runs into them, and they both startle at his sudden appearance. “Whatever you’re so eager to find out, it’s not happening today. It’s time to go back already.” He’s no more happy about it than they are, though, rolling his eyes at the prospect of heading back to the mansion when there’s still much to see.
“Already?” Donghyuck questions Sicheng as he starts heading back to the Market Square where their horses are stationed. Sicheng unfolds his pocketwatch and shows him the time, nodding without a word before continuing on. “Ah, shit. We’ll see the forest next time, then. Don’t forget! We’ve got to make haste.”
“Remember what that old man said, though,” Mark says, calling back to Donghyuck as he follows Sicheng. “We aren’t using up all our break time to find lovers or concubines.”
Donghyuck scoffs. “Who do you take me for? No one can find a lover in just 30 minutes, Mark, unless it’s you. Then you’d only need 5 minutes at most.” Then he takes off through the streets as Mark chases after him, threatening to kick his ass once he lays his hands on him.
It’s another week before they can make it out to the village—and therefore, the forest—again, but once the time rolls around, Donghyuck is once again the first out of the castle with Mark on his tail. Jungwoo and Sicheng decide to tag along too, along with Doyoung, which none of them are particularly surprised about.
The villagers’ responses are less awe-struck this time, though some of them still express some surprise at seeing the men come to their little town two weeks in a row. Many of them give friendly waves, though others look on with skepticism as they see the men heading for the woods. They pass by the same elderly orc from last week, who gives them a knowing look; Mark shoots him a nervous smile in return.
Entering the woods on horses requires them to duck their heads a bit to avoid the overhanging foliage threatening to poke them in the eyes or get tangled in their hair. A few of them gripe about this, but they quickly grow captivated with interest as they journey deeper into the terrain and survey the woods.
“This place is nice,” Jungwoo comments. His eyes dart to and fro, though, as if he expects one of the aforementioned women to come out of nowhere and sternly rebuke them for entering their forest abode.
“I can’t wait to see what kind of beautiful women live in this forest,” Donghyuck announces.
“Don’t be so eager, I’m positive none of them would be interested in a kid,” Sicheng scoffs. No sooner do the words leave Sicheng’s lips do a pair of pinecones come falling out of a tall pine tree just a ways above their heads. One only narrowly misses Sicheng, but the other catches Donghyuck on the shoulder.
“Ow! Did you see that?” He grabs his shoulder as if it’s injured and whips his head to look up at the pine’s towering trunk, but there’s no sign of anything other than a few unsuspecting birds.
Doyoung shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say anything else foolish if I were you, brother. Seems like the forest already has something against you.” He laughs to himself, steering his horse away from the others to explore more of the woods.
“It’s not the forest, it’s the women that stall vendor was talking about,” Donghyuck insists, looking over his shoulder for any more falling objects.
“Sure. Next, you will tell us you’re no longer an elf.” Sicheng is less convinced by the presence of the dryads than the other men, but he’s along for the ride anyway. He will at least get to see what all the fuss is about, and even if it’s not true, he’ll have some time away from the castle. Although the King and Queen are as dutifully welcoming as they should be, he can’t shake the feeling of the King’s judgment brewing just underneath the surface. It’s like his aura intentionally closes itself off to the younger man, too haughty and refined to be in the presence of a concubine’s son.
“Let’s just keep on and see what we come across,” Mark says, steering his horse around a fallen log as he traverses further ahead.
Doyoung catches sight of a large oak tree just a little ways off. It doesn’t look much different from the other trees around, save for a hollow hole in its front, but he’s intrigued by it and decides to look more closely. Once he gets over to it, he climbs off his horse and walks up to its large trunk, carefully maneuvering around the thick roots beneath his feet.
Cautiously peeking into the hollow, he sees a nest, but there are no current occupants. He presses one hand against the trunk and feels the grooves and ridges of its texture underneath his palm. It feels old and powerful, and he guesses it must’ve been here for a long time already.
Doyoung hears rustling a few feet above him from the branches, and a few leaves drift down, brushing his face. He expects to see some bird or squirrel when he looks up, maybe the owner of the nest come back to object to his snooping around, but he’s shocked at the sight of a woman.
Doyoung only catches a glimpse of you, for when you notice him looking at you, you gasp and dart further up into the tree’s branches, causing more leaves to fall on the way. Doyoung shields his eyes from them as they come cascading around him, but he fails to get another look. It’s like the tree has enveloped you entirely, hiding you from view.
“That was odd,” he says aloud. So the seller’s words were true after all. He lingers for a while longer, hoping to maybe stay long enough to see you again, but you’ve disappeared. He’s a bit reluctant to leave, but it’s apparent you’re not going to reappear while he’s still around, so he leads his horse away by its reins and looks for the others.
“I saw something,” he says as soon as he spots Donghyuck. “Or someone.”
“Seriously?” Donghyuck’s eyes light up. “What did she look like? Was she pretty? Did you get her name?”
“‘Was she pretty?’ Is that all you can think about?” Doyoung sighs. “I didn’t get anything. I barely saw her. She was among the tree branches one minute and gone the next.” Donghyuck slumps a bit at that, but he’s still determined to see one of the forest’s female inhabitants for himself.
“Hmmm…no matter. There’s many more chances where that came from. We can always return later and see who shows up.”
Their conversation is cut short by a nearby shout from Mark, who’s loudly complaining about his head. Apparently he’s been struck by something much messier than a pinecone—a robin’s egg. “Ugh. What have you fools gotten into?!” Donghyuck calls out, spurring on his horse.
Doyoung mounts his own horse and follows the younger man in search of their brothers. Just before they get out of sight of the oak tree, Doyoung throws a glance backwards, still burning with curiosity. He’s startled to see the same face from earlier staring back at him from the uppermost reaches of the tree, your eyes wide with an inquisitiveness he thinks must mirror his own.
When he blinks, you are gone again.
Even though the other men look at him a bit oddly for it, Doyoung decides to bring a gift the next time they go to the forest.
He doesn’t know much about tree nymphs. He does know, however, that there is a library full of books in the castle; many being history and reference books, no doubt. After visiting the library one day after his brothers’ lessons, he manages to scrape up a little information on tree nymphs—or dryads, as they’re also called—even though he isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking for.
His research tells him the tree nymphs are friends of the gods and goddesses, and history shows that the higher beings have always liked—even demanded for—gifts. So why wouldn’t the women of the forest be the same way? Maybe if he brings a gift, the women will warm up to their presence and realize they aren’t just a bunch of horny travelers. At the very least, maybe they wouldn’t have any more pinecones and eggs thrown at them.
When the brothers get a chance to go to the forest again, Doyoung carries a couple cinnamon scones and a small, bright clementine from their earlier breakfast in his saddlebag. The chef’s scones are the best he’s ever tasted, and he doesn’t think he could ever go back to eating the ones from their cook back home—not that he’d ever say that out loud, though.
Everyone likes food, right? He figures there’s no way to go wrong with this idea, and even if the girl in the oak tree doesn’t like it, maybe one of the other tree nymphs or woodland creatures can eat it.
You aren’t in sight when he stops by the oak tree again. Donghyuck, who’s accompanying Doyoung on his personal quest, watches as he leaves the food in the small tree hollow, keeping it carefully wrapped in its blue and white handkerchief.
“You think she’ll take it?” Donghyuck asks, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t really want you to hear him talking about you if you’re still around somewhere, which could possibly alert you to their presence and scare you off again. But unbeknownst to him, that’s unlikely to happen; dryads always know when someone enters their forest.
“I wouldn’t reject free food,” Doyoung says, laughing quietly. He steps back once he’s finished with his job and looks towards the branches, as if he expects you to appear right then and accept his offering. That won’t likely happen, but he wouldn’t mind seeing what you look like more closely.
“Well, come on then.” Donghyuck waves his hand. “There’s still more to see. We can double back and see if it worked later.”
They hear rustling among the trees as they guide their horses through one of the forest’s many paths, but they don’t see any signs of the dryads. There’s only the occasional forest creature, such as a racoon or squirrel. Mark, Sicheng, and Jungwoo are farther away in another part of the woods, though the two men can hear them talking faintly, their voices carrying on the wind. Sunlight from the midday sun filters through the leaves, turning the landscape into a speckled show of light and shadow.
When Donghyuck and Doyoung get far enough away from the oak tree, they eventually come across a lake that splits the forest in half. It’s not very wide, but if you tried to jump across it you’d almost certainly land in the water instead of on dry land.
There are signs that sprites have recently been near the lake, or quite possibly live within the forest. The ground is littered with half-eaten berries and chewed-on leaves, but that’s not the only clue; that could be the work of any forest animal. Sprites, however, leave a very distinct tinge of magic in places they’ve visited. It’s akin to walking through a spiderweb, or feeling the air change when you go from the hot outdoors to a cold room. Doyoung almost swears he can hear tiny tinkling laughter next to his ear, though it fades away as soon as he turns around.
Donghyuck is more interested in the lake, though, and guides his horse to walk along the edge of the grass where the water begins. “Do you figure we could go swimming in it?” he calls back to Doyoung.
Doyoung scoffs. “Now?”
“Of course not now! Maybe some other day, when we don’t have 20 other things to do.”
“Maybe. The water seems safe enough…” Doyoung peers into the running waters himself, watching a few twigs and stray leaves float past. There aren’t any apparent dangers or concerns, and the water’s shallow enough where you can see the bottom of the lake, but appearances aren’t always as they seem. It’s always essential to be wary in magically-charged places like this forest.
They ride through the woods for a while longer, listening to birds cry out from the trees and sing softer chirps that serve as background music. Despite the forest’s inherent mystery, it’s almost calming at this moment, with the steady hum of wildlife around. It’s like time has been suspended and they’ve been enveloped in a dimension separate from their own, even though they can see familiar signs of life prospering all around them. The contradiction of the forest’s calm and unsettling quality is both strange and wonderful to experience.
By the time their half-hour of exploration starts running out, they circle back to the grand oak tree to see what’s become of Doyoung’s offering. He’s actually a bit surprised to see it gone, handkerchief and all, and he gets off his horse to inspect the tree hollow.
“It worked!” Donghyuck exclaims this a little too loudly and a nearby bird takes off. He flinches reflexively, expecting another pinecone to come hurtling at him from the trees, though none do.
“It did,” Doyoung agrees, pressing his fingers against the wood as he looks into the tree hollow. He’s even more pleased than he expected to be, a small grin playing on his lips. “It did.”
Doyoung leaves more gifts over the next few weeks, which ends up in him actually buying things for your merriment. Many of them are cute and inexpensive little trinkets from the Market Square, like smooth blue moonstones and jagged sharp crystals that the vendors swear have been blessed with witches’ magic, though he often still leaves food.
Even with these regular visits, he’s still yet to catch more than a few glimpses at a time of you. Unbeknownst to him and Donghyuck, these sightings, no matter how sparse they are, are largely due to you throwing them a bone and allowing them to perceive you. At any other time, it would be all too easy to just disappear completely and wait for them to leave after depositing their offerings.
They don’t always see you when they come to the tree, but it happens enough to be worth noting.
Despite this inability to get you to stay, Donghyuck still tries his luck with calling out greetings to your retreating form. These words, no matter how friendly they are, are often swallowed up in the rustling of the leaves.
The same thing happens today. Donghyuck spots your feet peeking out from an uppermost branch, not quite concealed by the leaves, and he rushes out the first thing he can think of to say. “Hey, there—” At the sound of his voice, though, you quickly retreat. “Uh, nice tree-climbing skills? Oh, alright, okay…”
“I don’t think she wants to talk right now,” Doyoung remarks, a smirk on his face as he goes to leave his token for today. This time, it’s another food gift; a pair of peaches and a biscuit with jam.
“That’s fine!” Donghyuck tries not to seem embarrassed about his fruitless greetings. “I’ll just keep greeting her until she does feel like answering. It would be rude not to say hello otherwise! Unlike someone else here. Not very princely of you, huh, brother?”
Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at his brother and spurs his horse to gallop off into the trees, feeling the air whip past his cheeks. In the back of his mind, he himself knows why he keeps calling out to you even if he won’t get an answer, though he doesn’t intend on letting Doyoung know why. Some things are better kept to oneself; he’s had to learn that lesson over time.
He eventually ends up on a small hill in the forest, which is surrounded by tall trees and covered in sparse patches of moss. He hears giggling above him from one of the trees, though when he turns his head to look, there’s nothing there.
Still chagrined from the time he got hit with a pinecone, he keeps his head turned skyward, trying to see if he can spot anything among the tree canopy. However, all he sees is green and more green. He’s about to give up and go about his way when an acorn comes zooming down and hits him square in the forehead.
“Hey!” he shouts, rubbing the sore spot on his head. His exclamation reverberates off the tree trunks and bounces back to him. The echo of it almost overtakes the small set of giggles from just in front of him, but his ear catches them. “Whoever you are, come out!”
Donghyuck’s horse whinnies softly but does nothing else to alert him to where the possible culprit might be hiding, and he sighs heavily. He decides to get off the horse to walk around the area, inspecting it more closely as the wind stirs his hair and tickles his ears. The forest is almost eerily silent the entire time; all Donghyuck can hear is the sound of his own breaths and his boots in the grass.
Suddenly, he yells when a mop of black hair falls on top of his head. The shock of it sends him falling to the ground, dirtying his pants. When he gets enough distance between himself and the strange black hair, he realizes it’s one of the tree nymphs. Not you from the oak tree, though, to his slight disappointment. This one hangs upside down from a thick branch as she looks at him, her eyes playful and bright.
“You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds like windchimes tinkling in the breeze, light and airy. Donghyuck tries to respond, but he finds himself lost for words after finally facing one of the women who have been an enigma this entire time. When she sees he isn’t responding, she says, “Cat got your tongue?”
“Who...where…?” Donghyuck scrambles to his feet, and the girl rights herself on her tree branch, skittering along the length of it to hide partway behind the tree trunk. She doesn’t appear to actually be shy or apprehensive, though. Her grin tells him that this is all part of her game.
“Hmm. Well, when you figure out what you’d like to say, call for me.” The girl disappears completely behind the tree trunk, and Donghyuck darts behind it, expecting to see her still hiding there. However, there’s nothing but air.
“But I don’t know your name?” Donghyuck calls after her, but there’s only his own voice reflected back to him.
“Don’t know whose name?” Mark’s voice makes Donghyuck turn around in surprise, a blush coloring his cheeks. He hadn’t even heard the older man’s horse come trotting up.
“No one,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he walks back to his horse. “You must be hearing things.”
You and three other dryads sit in a circle in a small clearing one night, talking amongst yourselves, eating berries, and gazing at the moon as it shines directly upon your little spot. Cassia lays her head in your lap, her long black hair splaying across your legs. The other two, Peony and Daphne, cuddle close to each other, their legs entangling as they feed each other berries.
You all only come out like this when you’re sure the forest is free of any unwelcome visitors or sudden drop-ins, so you can enjoy each other’s company in peace and talk without prying ears or eyes. And speak of the devil—the subject soon turns to the men who’ve been gallivanting through the forest as of late.
“We can never have any peace,” Cassia says, though her tone is laced with laughter. “If it isn’t one group of thirsty and untouched men, it’s another.”
“That one man always comes around this area, the one with the long hair. Along with the rest of them…all on their horses, making so much noise and chaos,” Peony complains.
“It’s impossible not to notice their presence. I wish they’d just stay wherever they come from; they make far too much noise out here,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “They must scare away every woodland creature within a 20-foot radius.”
You’re quiet and thoughtful as you listen to the other girls’ complaints. Finally, you decide to chime in. “I don’t know. They do seem a bit mannerless at times, but they’re kind of interesting.”
Peony shrugs. “Not surprised you’d say that. The one with the long hair is always looking up your tree and leaving you gifts.”
“She just doesn’t want the stream of admiration to stop,” Cassia giggles.
You sigh. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple, but whatever you say.”
“Everyone in the world likes attention, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cassia admits, “especially when it’s coming from someone who isn’t half-bad. This batch of men is by far the most attractive we’ve seen in a while.”
“Hmm, if you say so,” Peony says, and her and Daphne giggle to themselves like they’re in on a joke only the two of them know.
“He must think he’ll get in your good graces if he gives you enough presents,” Daphne adds in. “What say you?”
You tilt your head and think. “Get in my good graces? That depends on what he wants.”
“What he wants?” Peony separates herself from Daphne and crawls over to you, mischief shining in her eyes. “And what do you think he wants?” Her grin doesn’t diminish as she waits for your answer. Daphne smiles and laughs and licks berry juice off her hands as she observes you both.
You stare at the other girl for a long moment, not wanting to laugh but cracking a grin anyway. “I couldn’t possibly know! Maybe you should ask him—or ask the younger one you all have been obsessed with.”
Cassia stretches her arms upwards toward the night sky, crossing her fingers over each other. “Nope. He’s just fun to tease.”
“Fun enough for you to reveal yourself to him,” you point out.
“Say what you will,” she responds. “But at some point, you will probably have to talk to the man. Think carefully. You want to make a good impression on your not-so-secret admirer, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” you say nonchalantly, though you are already thinking of what you might say to him the next time he comes around.
Daphne looks to Cassia, then at you. “Well, just remember this. I wouldn’t waste too much of my good time with him if I were you. We all know elves don’t like us.” The mood shifts a bit at this, with the three of you giving each other unsettled looks as a familiar thought drifts in the back of your minds. It is not uncommon for elves to demean other species, nor is it rare for them to use this perceived superiority to take what they want from others.
Cassia pulls up a handful of grass and throws it at the other girl. “Must you spoil the mood? We’re just having a bit of fun. Besides, these elves obviously don’t object to us if they keep hanging around here unprovoked.”
“I’m trying to look out for the best interest of a fellow dryad,” Daphne protests. “Elven men are very seductive…everything you want them to be until they’re not. But, by all means, do as you please.”
“Like Cassia said, it’s just fun.” You keep your voice nonchalant, though you are already rising to your feet to walk back to your tree. “And thank you for the concern…although I’m not certain it’s warranted.”
The other girls let you walk back alone, knowing you need a bit of time to yourself to think. You wonder what the man’s motive could truly be, and what it means for you. The elves of Arthenia have historically been easy to get along with as they don’t share the views of many others in their race. The same can’t always be said for elven people outside of this small area, though.
You suppose there’s only one way to find out.
One day, Doyoung manages to go out to the forest by himself while his brothers are still busy with their studies.
He plans to leave you something again, maybe hoping to see you fully this time, though he’s also content to just be out in nature and enjoy the scenery if that’s not possible. At least that’s what he tells himself. Fortunately for him, Lady Luck takes his side today.
After getting off his horse, he heads straight for your oak tree with his gift in hand. It’s a small piece of dyed glass that he got from the Market Square, shaped like a maple leaf. It appears to change colors when held up to the light, as if it were a real leaf with the sun shining through its cells.
You’re already sitting on one of the upper branches when he comes to the tree. He stops in his tracks, thinking you might run off again if he comes any closer, but you simply sit and look at him, your knees close to your chest. He thinks about what a precarious position that is to take on a tree branch, but you’re obviously used to keeping your balance up there.
There’s a tense silence. Doyoung’s afraid you might leave, but he’s surprised when you stay put as the seconds tick past, wrapping your arms around your knees and watching him. When he becomes a little more confident that you won’t try to escape, he steps closer, albeit slowly. “Hello,” he says, keeping his voice even and quiet. Like he’s speaking to something vulnerable and scared.
After a few beats of silence, you say, “Hi.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m...Doyoung.”
“Doyoung.” You cock your head, weighing whether you should tell him your name or not, but you eventually do.
“It’s a pretty name,” he says, and he actually means it rather than saying it just to be polite. “Um…” He looks to the glass leaf in his hand, which is cradled in another handkerchief. “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see you in person.”
“I’m always here,” you say.
Doyoung nods and chuckles. “Well...I can’t argue with that.”
“You’re always here, too. With your group of men. Making so much noise that you scare all the creatures in the forest away.”
Doyoung winces. He already knew that they weren’t the quietest mice in the bunch whenever they came to the forest. “I’m...sorry about that. I’ll tell the others to keep it down from now on.”
You nod. “That would be nice. The other girls don’t like the noise.”
“What about you?”
You shrug. “They’re not wrong for being irritated about it.”
“Could this make up for it? At least, for you?” Doyoung pulls away the handkerchief and holds the glass leaf up for you to see. You climb down from your high post to look at it more closely, though you don’t leave the tree entirely; you just balance on one of the lower branches.
“It’s pretty,” you whisper, and Doyoung notices your eyes seem to sparkle a bit more at the sight of the ornament even though your outer demeanor is calm.
“Then I’ll leave it here.” Doyoung tucks it into the small tree hollow where he’s always put the rest of his presents.
“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, and he is surprised to see a slight smile on your face; the first one he’s ever seen from you. He realizes he’s staring at you a little longer than he should and catches himself.
“Ah, y-you’re welcome.”
You nod but don’t say anything more, and Doyoung knows he ought to speak again soon if he doesn’t want to surrender this small opportunity he’s had to talk to you.
“Are there...many of you here?”
“Dryads?”
“Ah, yes...dryads.”
“There are many, yes,” you answer. “Not every tree has a keeper; some are just empty. But many do. We live in our trees.”
“In?” Doyoung realizes this may be referring to something other than just literally living among the branches, which he didn’t think of until now. You nod.
“Maybe it’s a little different from your elven magic.” You glance at his ears and momentarily think of the conversation you had with the other dryads. “But it’s a type of magic all the same.”
“I see…” Doyoung remembers to file that bit of information away so he can tell Donghyuck, who’s been burning to know. The books in the library only provided so many answers, much to their disappointment, with them not having much recorded information on the tree nymph race. Dryads seemed to be a thing of mystery to many, though he could easily guess why.
“You’re not Eupheme-born,” you say abruptly. “Where do you hail from?”
“The kingdom of Ceres,” Doyoung answers. You nod, and he takes this as recognition. “Have you been there before?
You shake your head. “I can’t leave the forest.”
“You can’t? Why?”
“We’re connected to the trees. They keep us alive, and vice versa. If we’re separated over too far of a distance, both will die.”
“That’s grim,” Doyoung says, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t you ever want to leave? Go somewhere else? It can’t be happy to be chained to one place forever.”
You raise your eyebrows and laugh, incredulous at his statement. “Chained? The forest is my home. There’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”
Doyoung shrugs. “You have a much stronger constitution than me, then. I don’t know that I’d want to be tied to any one place for my entire life.”
You squint your eyes, staring at him carefully. “You’re royalty, aren’t you?” He nods in response. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You can come to this forest however you please and have fun, but you’ll have to have a family sooner or later...something more permanent to tie you to this world.” You slip down from your branch, letting your feet touch the ground, and Doyoung steps back a little to give you space. “Men like to roam and be free and sow their wild oats. They’re more than welcome to do that, but I’ll stay here among the trees.”
He stares at you in wonder, your words repeating in his head as you gingerly take his gift out of the hollow. You turn back to him momentarily, giving him a quick parting smile and a nod before skipping off into the trees.
“A letter came!” Jungwoo holds up a cream-colored envelope that sports their family’s familiar crest on a wax seal on the back. It’s a letter from their parents—their first correspondence since the men have left the castle.
“What does it say?” Mark and Donghyuck crowd around him to persuade him into opening the envelope faster. Before Jungwoo can read it, Sicheng plucks it out of his hand and holds it up to the light, making a show of squinting at the inky black handwriting. “Well? Go on!” Donghyuck prods him.
“Hmm...” Sicheng purses his lips and crinkles his brows as if concentrating hard, then gives them all a sly smile. “It says you’re all kicked off the inheritance and I’m becoming the next Crown Prince.”
Doyoung shakes his head and takes the letter from Sicheng as the younger man laughs. The other three boys balk at his attempt at a joke, and Doyoung knows the atmosphere could easily turn awkward if he doesn’t step in now. “Anyway. Let’s see what it really says, I’m sure they must be missing our presence…”
They all stand around Doyoung as he reads the letter out to them, trying to look over his shoulder as if he can’t read fast enough to satisfy their curiosity.
“Dear boys, we hope Eupheme has been finding you well.
Affairs in Ceres have been running as normal in your absence, thankfully, and Yuta and Jaehyun have been handling their new duties well. They also send their regards and hope to see you back soon.
“There is also important news for our Doyoungie. We are considering a potential match for you—the Duke of Ceres’ daughter, with whom you should already be familiar—and plan to set a meeting as soon as you return at summer’s end. We think you will find her very agreeable...” Doyoung’s voice falters a bit.
“Aw, is our indecisive brother finally going to become a married man this year?” Jungwoo slings his arm around Doyoung’s shoulders, and the older man lets out a puff of air.
“By the beginning of next year, who wants to bet?” Donghyuck snickers. “Girls naturally love you, it won’t take long for you to charm her. Either way, it’s not like you have very much longer to wait.” Mark elbows him in the side and he complains in turn, but not before cuffing Mark over the head.
“...I suppose.” That comment about being a “ladies’ man” might have drawn a laugh or two or even a boast if it were said months ago, but now Doyoung just feels strangely unsettled about it all—the impending courtship and his inevitable marriage. He continues reading the rest of the letter, though if someone were to ask him later, he wouldn’t be able to remember the rest of the words.
“We think you will find her very agreeable and are thrilled for you to get to know each other better. It is nothing to worry yourself over now, but do keep this in mind.
“Boys—remember to keep following all of your tutors’ instructions, and please refrain from making yourselves bothersome. You all are guests, and the King and Queen of Eupheme are being very honorable by hosting you this summer.
“We all send our best regards.”
That night, Doyoung tries his best to fall asleep but is kept awake by the contents of the letter. It’s hard to tear his mind away from what will happen once he returns to Ceres. Though he’d thought he’d be prepared for this, he feels unexpectedly nervous and averse to the idea of yet again courting someone he barely knows for months—and quite possibly marrying them this time around. He doesn’t know how much longer their parents’ patience in allowing him to take his time with finding a partner will last.
It’s proper. It’s tradition. It’s what’s expected of him and his brothers, and he’s been primed for this duty his entire life. Yet, that knowledge does nothing to quell the uncomfortable sensation—dare he call it dread?—creeping upon him.
He watches the clock on the mantle across his bedroom, just above the fireplace. Its little black hands tick by endlessly, counting down the seconds, minutes, hours. When another hour passes and he’s still staring at the clock, Doyoung peels the covers back and decides to leave the castle for a bit. He already knows of a few tucked-away passages he can slip out of that lead to the outside in some way or another, having bribed Jaemin into telling him where they are in case any of his brothers tries to sneak out. How ironic that he’s now using that knowledge for his own gains.
Although he’s not sure if he’ll need it, Doyoung throws on a cloak for good measure before escaping to the outside. He spends a while walking through the castle’s extensive gardens and making sure he’s staying out of sight of the guards, though he feels no sleepier than he did when he first got there. Exasperated, he’s about to turn around and head back for the indoors when the woods beyond Arthenia pop into his mind.
Should he? He’s already outside; what’s the harm in it? Admittedly, the answer is a lot if he’s caught, but he pushes those thoughts away, as his feet are already turning to lead him away from the castle grounds. Doyoung decides he’ll use his glamor for a bit to disguise his face and elven ears once he gets to Arthenia, though there probably won’t be many people awake at this time of night.
Without a horse, the walk to the forest is long. Doyoung doesn’t create any of his light orbs until he’s sure he’s far enough away from the castle to not be spotted by any of the night watch guards. When he thinks it’s safe, he conjures a small ball of burning blue light in his palm, which is enough to illuminate his footsteps.
Doyoung’s boots are wet from the damp grass by the time he reaches the Market Square, and he passes by the rows of houses and outbuildings without a sound. Some lights are still on in some homes, glowing a warm yellow in the dim light of the half moon, while others are pitch black and fade into the surrounding darkness.
The forest looks even more intimidating at night, even with the limited light. He hesitates at the forest entrance for a minute, wondering if it’s safe to go inside. He’s yet to see anything truly dangerous during the daylight hours, but things can be different at night. He didn’t think to possibly bring his bow and arrow from their archery lessons, and there will be no easy escape on horse if something menacing crosses his path. Shaking his head and sighing, he enters anyway and prays to whatever goddess will listen for the best. He’s already walked this far.
Doyoung convinces himself that he’s just going to walk around for a bit, maybe sit at the lake for a while, but after turning in a wide, looping circle, his feet eventually end up leading him to the oak tree. You are already sitting on a low branch when he arrives, as if waiting for his appearance. He notices you’re wearing the moonstone he once left in the tree hollow; somehow it’s been fashioned into a necklace, and he wonders where you got the tools to do that. One of your legs trails off the tree branch you’re perched on, swinging leisurely in the cool night air, and he tries not to stare.
“Y/N,” slips from his lips. “You’re awake at this hour?”
You smirk. “So are you.” Doyoung moves the cloak’s hood away from his face with this free hand, and you study the glowing orb in his other hand. “You’re a Light User...that’s interesting.”
“I guess it could make for a fun trick at a ball,” he says, and tosses the glowing orb up into the air. He does this a few times until he throws it up one last time and it hovers in the air, as if stuck by an invisible force. Doyoung manipulates the orb with his fingers in a way that causes it to split up into a dozen more bright glowing spheres, all suspended in the air. By now, the entire area around the oak tree is lit up from the light emanating from these numerous orbs.
You laugh softly at this display, reaching out to touch the orb nearest to you and discovering that, despite your hand passing through it, the air still feels oddly warm in the spot where the light glows. “Very pretty. It’s peculiar to see you at this hour, though. Are you even allowed to be out this late?” you ask, your eyes still lingering on the orb.
“No, but…” Doyoung trails off, unsure if he wants to revive that concern. “I couldn’t sleep.”
You finally look back at him, and your face creases slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Doyoung says, and he doesn’t know, really. Getting married was always a part of the plan, as royalty. So why is he doubting it now? Maybe he knows more about why he’s feeling this way than he’ll admit to, but there are things he’s still not even sure of himself at the moment.
You decide not to press the matter for now, especially after seeing his conflicted face. “You don’t have your horse. Was it a long walk?”
He nods and laughs a little, thinking maybe it was a bit ridiculous to walk all the way here in the middle of the night. He still has to walk all the way back, which isn’t an appealing thought. “Nothing like a bit of exercise to tire you out, I guess. Hopefully I’ll sleep better after.”
“You sound like a troubled sleeper. I eat jasmine petals if I have trouble sleeping. You know, there’s a bush of them around here.” It’s an offer for him to partake, if he wants to.
“My mom likes jasmine tea,” Doyoung says, grinning slightly. “Do you often have trouble falling asleep? I would think it would be easier being surrounded by nature like this.”
You slide off the lower branch and land on the grass with a soft thump. “Not always…but I’d rather have an easy remedy than be left without one when I needed it.” Then you move to follow a dirt path leading away from the tree, but not before turning back to look at Doyoung. “Come on, then. I’ll show you the bush.”
Once again, he hesitates like he did just before entering the forest. “Is...it safe?”
You squint at him. “Safe?”
“I mean…there must be other creatures in this forest besides the agreeable woodland variety.”
“Yes…but they mostly live on the far outskirts. And either way, none of the other inhabitants will hurt a dryad. We’re the forest’s keepers. So you’ll be safe if you’re with me.”
Doyoung decides to take your word for it and follows you along the path, his blue orbs trailing after him. He sends some further ahead to light the narrow path so you both can see better, though you already know where the bush is by heart.
Soon, you’re both standing in front of the aforementioned bush, which is laden with white jasmine blooms. They seem to shine unnaturally brightly under the illumination of the blue orbs.
“Take some,” you say, carefully plucking one of the flowers from the bush. You hold it up to his nose so he can smell it, and he does so. The scent envelops him like a warm hug, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s already making him feel better. When you hold the flower out to him, he takes it gingerly. He doesn’t fail to notice the soft blossom’s texture, or the equal softness of your hand.
“Will your friends be okay with this?” Doyoung asks tentatively, holding the flower in his hand with a certain fragility.
“They will. And if they aren't, it can be our secret.” There are no secrets in this forest, really, but you humor him anyway, wanting to do something nice in return for the gifts he’s given you.
Doyoung nods and takes a couple more of the flowers, their leaves included, for the tea. He tucks them safely in the pocket of his pants.
You smile at him once he’s taken what he wants. “You’re quite gentle,” you remark. Doyoung doesn’t expect to hear that from you, and he looks at you quizzically.
“What do you mean?”
“You just appear to be very...cognizant. Many people who’ve come to the forest before don’t give any thought to disturbing the natural balance of things and taking what they want. Not the villagers, but others.”
“I see,” Doyoung nods, feeling his face grow warm. He’s never had that particular attribute associated with him before. Gentle. Men are meant to be strong and brave and fearless; gentleness is for the fairer sex. He doesn’t dislike it, though. Quite the opposite, in fact.
You nod in return. “Well, it’s getting a bit late...later than it already is, anyway. I don’t know how things at your castle work, but you may want to be getting back before someone notices you’re gone. The sun will be rising soon enough.”
Doyoung smiles slightly. “You’re quite right.”
“Would you like me to walk back with you? To keep you safe, you know.” You giggle at this. “I will only go as far as the edge of the forest. But you should be alright beyond that point.”
“That’s fine with me.” Doyoung can’t help but feel a little embarrassed about being on the receiving end of such niceties, thinking that this is the kind of thing he’d be doing for you in any other context. He’s not going to pass up the offer of safety, though—and the opportunity to spend a few more minutes in your company.
You talk in low voices on the way back towards the forest’s opening. Mostly about things in the forest, though Doyoung does mention his brothers once or twice. Secretly, you think it’s a bit endearing how much he cares about them even if they get on his nerves.
“We’re here,” you say once you’re in view of the village again.
“Thank you for walking with me. And thank you for the jasmine.” Doyoung pats his pocket.
You grin and wave. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
Doyoung starts walking off but suddenly turns back to you as if there’s something more he wants to say. You raise your eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak, but after a second, he only smiles—if a bit nervously—and returns your wave.
You shuffle back into the underbrush a bit, though you stay there and watch him walk away until he’s just a speck amongst the backdrop of the village.
Doyoung makes it back home undetected and climbs back into bed feeling tired enough to sleep now, though he also attributes some of his sleepiness to the pleasant smell of jasmine still clinging to him.
When he slumbers, he dreams of a soft hand touching his, ripe with the scent of jasmine flowers.
The days get progressively hotter as the summer months settle in. With their tutors’ increasing lenience thanks to them taking well to their educational and etiquette lessons, the men get more time to themselves to do whatever they wish. The heat encourages them to spend more time outdoors, whether it’s running through the castle’s expansive yards, shooting arrows at targets or some poor stuffed mannequins, or heading to the village—and subsequently, the forest.
One hot day when they have little responsibilities to tend to, Jungwoo comes up with the brilliant idea to head to the lake for a couple hours, perhaps to cool down from the heat by wading in the water for a while. Sicheng, who has grown a bit disenchanted with the forest, decides to spend the day with their three cousins instead.
However, when the men get within shouting distance of the lake, they realize it’s already occupied.
“Wait!” Mark hisses, pulling on the reins of his horse to make it stop. He holds a finger to his lips, and before any of the men can question him, the sound of shouting, laughter, and water splashing drifts to them on the wind. It appears they aren’t the only ones who’ve had the idea of visiting the lake today.
“Oh?” Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and he and Jungwoo waste no time with getting off their own steeds to head for the riverbank.
“Wait, where the hell are you leaving off to?” Doyoung whisper-shouts, but the two pay him no mind as they creep over to a cluster of bushes near the edge of the lake. The shrubs are big enough to conceal them while still providing a few gaps to peek through, and from their new post they spot the dryads farther down the length of the lake, standing in a shallow portion. The women aren’t near enough to spot the men hiding in the bush, but they are still close enough to see clearly from this distance.
“W-what do you see?” Mark asks, his body poised as if he wants to get off his horse and join them too, but he’s still unsure.
“You’ve got to see it for yourself,” Donghyuck snickers, waving the older man over.
Mark looks to Doyoung. Doyoung gives him an incredulous look, and Mark shoots an apologetic one back before dismounting his horse and going over to join his brothers, squeezing in-between them as they crouch on the ground. He sees a group of six dryads playing in the lake, splashing each other with the water. Two more sit on the bank observing the festivities and talking about something they’re holding in their hands, though Mark can’t quite make out what the small objects are.
Donghyuck has only barely seen you during the times he’s gone with Doyoung to deliver your gifts, though he instantly recognizes you as one of the girls standing in the lake. His breath catches a bit as he watches you with water glistening off your skin and your dress clinging to your body.
“Isn’t this a little distasteful?” Mark mutters, his big eyes darting nervously between his brothers. He shifts uncomfortably, looking like he’s ready to make a run for it if need be. “I mean, watching them through the bushes like this…”
“Probably,” Jungwoo replies. “But as long as they don’t notice us…”
Mark almost shouts at feeling a hand come down on his shoulder, and Donghyuck whips his head around when the same happens to him; however, it’s only Doyoung. “You all need to get up right now,” he hisses lowly. “Haven’t you learned anything over the past few months? This is inappropriate—”
“Why are you standing?! Get down before they—”
Before any of them can realize what’s happening, what must be a gallon of lake water splashes down on all four of their heads. Screams of shock ring through the forest, along with a loud round of laughter—coming from both above them and further down the lake.
Mark, Jungwoo, and Donghyuck get to their feet in a rush, looking and feeling very much embarrassed. They look up toward the treetops and see two dryads sitting in the cleft of some of the sturdier branches, openly giggling at them. Jungwoo notices they aren’t holding buckets or any other objects that could’ve explained how they got the water up there in the first place—just a net woven with leaves, which he is certain they couldn’t have been transporting the water in. And yet… “How did you...?”
The women aren’t interested in answering his question, though, and instead disappear into the branches, leaving nothing but a few stray leaves fallen to the ground.
“I think we probably deserved that,” Mark says, sighing and trying to shake some of the water out of his clothes. The rest of the dryads who are still in the water follow the lead of the other two girls, running out of the lake and scattering through the forest, the echoes of their laughter the only evidence that they were ever there. The only ones who stay are you and the two other tree nymphs sitting on the riverbank. Now that everyone is in full view of each other, Mark belatedly realizes that the “objects” the two girls were holding and cooing over are not objects at all, but small sprites.
You step a little closer to the group of men, and the other two girls watch them intently. “If you wanted to play with us, you could just say so. It would benefit you not to be a bunch of cads about it.” You roll your eyes, though you are somewhat amused by seeing them standing there looking soaked and embarrassed.
“O-of course! I tried to tell them, but you know how it is with these kids...we were just leaving, actually.” Doyoung grips Donghyuck and Jungwoo’s collars like he’s about to drag them off like two misbehaving children, and Donghyuck’s face flushes at being treated like a kid in front of you.
“Are you sure about that?” you ask, and Doyoung raises his eyebrows at your question. You lower your hand into the lake water as if you’re only checking its temperature or letting it flow through your fingers—which is why they’re taken off guard when you draw your hand back and send a big splash of water flying in their direction.
Donghyuck is the first to react, pulling away from Doyoung’s grasp and rushing into the water to splash you back. It’s not long before things quickly evolve into another splash battle, with the other boys wading into the lake to join. The other two girls give skeptical glances at first, but they eventually bid goodbye to their sprite friends and jump into the lake, too.
You all spend what feels like hours running through the water and splashing each other, and your two friends take more quickly to the men than you expected. When the hour for them to leave comes rolling around, you are all soaked but smiling.
“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Mark says, looking down at their wet clothes. Still, there’s no concealing the bright and amused smile coloring his features.
Your two friends wave to the men and quickly slip off back to their trees, though you linger for a while longer as you watch them climb out of the lake and try to wring out their clothes. Doyoung’s the last one left standing in the water with you, and you turn to him.
“Did the flowers help?” you ask.
“The flow—? Oh, the flowers! They worked just as intended, thank you…” Doyoung blushes a little at the memory. As the others head for their horses, Donghyuck hangs back a little to hear the conversation, wanting to be nosy and wondering what flowers you’re referring to.
“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply, smiling and feeling a little proud that your remedy worked—even though you knew it would. “You know, if you ever need anything else, you can just ask…there are a lot of resourceful things here. It’s like living in an apothecary.”
“Well, I’m interested if he isn’t!” Haechan interjects.
You smirk lightly at him while Doyoung shoots him an irritated look. “Sure. I suppose you’ve taken interest in the forest itself and are no longer just looking for a pretty woman to mess around with?”
Donghyuck flushes at your words, and his smile falters a little at being called out on his earlier intentions. Beside him, Doyoung gloats internally, and he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. “Um…sorry about that.”
“It’s nothing new,” you say matter-of-factly. Then you turn to Doyoung. “Anyways…don’t forget what I said. I’ve gotten used to seeing you around here, so...don’t be a stranger.” You go to leave then, but not before turning back around once more. “And don’t go snooping around. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”
Donghyuck only nods, too embarrassed to respond and unable to justify himself. Both men watch as you walk away, likely back towards your tree. Doyoung turns to the younger man. “Come on, then. Let’s be heading back; maybe our clothes will dry out on the way there.”
After the lake incident, Donghyuck insists on using all his lesson breaks for the next couple of weeks to go with Doyoung whenever he travels to the forest to see you. Donghyuck becomes even more invested in this after knowing that Doyoung had already met you face-to-face after going to the forest by himself. The older man acquiesces, though deep down he’d like to spend more time with you alone—especially with managing to make these visits only once or twice a week. Still, seeing you with his little brother clinging to his side is better than not seeing you at all.
Donghyuck is talkative and lively and inquisitive in your presence, much more willing to learn new things from you than from even the highest-rated tutors in Eupheme. Doyoung finds that particularly ironic, though he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he listens intently along with Donghyuck as you tell him about the many different kinds of plants within the forest, including what purposes they serve. Doyoung is always reminded of the night you gave him those jasmine flowers, and even now, he stares at your hands as you point out different leaves and subtly wishes he could have any excuse to touch them again.
“These berries are safe to eat, though they look very similar to poisonous Pokeweed berries. That’s why you want to be sure you can tell the difference between them…” You place a few in your palm and hold them out for Donghyuck to see.
Donghyuck—who looks at you like you know everything in the world. You know many things, but not everything; but you’ll continue to let him look at you so admirably, because you find it endearing. He somewhat makes you think of what it might be like to have a younger brother or an amiable male friend. Someone to offer you a different perspective of the world external from the community of women you’ve always lived in.
Could Doyoung be that male friend or curious brother, too? Maybe, but maybe not.
Whenever you turn and speak to Doyoung to keep him included in the conversation, you don’t get that companionable feeling. There’s something much warmer there, something that makes you smile a little wider and causes more interesting facts to pop into your head. You enjoy telling him more about the forest, your home, and you somehow feel like you’d tell him anything he wants to know whenever he looks at you.
You like to see his smile, and the way his eyes grow smaller as he laughs or grins at something you’ve said. You haven’t felt this in a very long time, but if there’s anything to compare it to, it’d be eating warm honey straight from the honeycomb, or breathing in a lungful of jasmine scent before drifting off to sleep.
You don’t dwell on it for too long, simply wanting to experience the emotions as they are rather than spend too much time worrying over what they mean. Nevertheless…your idea of Doyoung is quite different from a friend or brother, indeed.
Although it is a Saturday when Doyoung comes to visit you, the sky is a dark and restless contrast to the day’s liveliness, the clouds looking heavy enough to drag down to Earth. He knows it’ll likely rain soon, which means he should probably stay in the castle and keep dry, but he ventures out to see you anyway. Today is the first time in a while he’s been able to see you without Donghyuck by his side, so he’s taking the opportunity.
You’re not in your tree when he comes. He thinks maybe he might go and look for you, but you’ll know where he is faster than he could find you. It takes a few minutes, but as expected, you appear from the further reaches of the woodland, laughing to yourself and holding a ring of flowers. There’s a similar one on your head made up of purple and white blooms. Doyoung thinks you look something like an angel against the sky’s gloom, with a halo made of blossoms instead of light.
“You’re here now? It’s about to rain,” you say, though your tone shows you’re clearly happy to see him.
He shrugs. “I felt like getting some air...I’m not concerned with a little water, as you probably already know.” I wanted to see you, is what he’d really like to say, but he doesn’t want to jump the gun. You nod in understanding, then hold up the ring of flowers in your hand; it has a few blue ones reminiscent of Doyoung’s light orbs. You offer the flower crown up to him, and he bends so you can place it on his head.
“Now you look like a true prince,” you say, smiling in satisfaction at your masterpiece. “I’ve never seen you with a crown until now. That’s a shame.”
“It is a shame.” Doyoung brings a hand up to feel the petals of one of the flowers between his fingers, and he grins. “I’m quite handsome in one.”
“Oh, my prince!” You start prancing around Doyoung and his horse like a fairy, or maybe like a young maiden at a fancy ball, brushing your hand along the animal’s shiny coat as you do. “It’s such an honor for you to grace our forest with your elegant visage.” You finally stop in front of him with a curtsy, though you have to take a moment to readjust your flower crown when it almost flies off at the sudden stop. “What can I have the pleasure of doing for you today?”
Though he laughs at your acting, he’s also a little awestruck for a moment, taken away by your cuteness and humor. Doyoung realizes there’s an awkward silence settling between you as he’s yet to say anything, and he finally stutters out, “There was something I...w-wanted to tell you.”
“What is it?” You come out of your curtsy and stand straight in front of him, all ears open for whatever he’s about to say.
“Well, it’s…” It’s a lot scarier to say what you want when you’re standing in front of someone and not just practicing in front of the vanity mirror. Doyoung is still piecing the words together when a few drops of rain hit his cheek. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but the droplets become impossible to ignore when they suddenly come hammering down without pretense, as if the gods have given word for the heavens’ floodgates to open.
“Come on!” You start running and Doyoung has no choice but to follow, tugging his horse along with him. It doesn’t take long for you to lead him to a small cave he’s never seen before. To his defense, that’s likely because the opening of it is partially obscured by hanging vines and other vegetation. It’s tall enough for someone of Doyoung’s height to stand in comfortably, which he’s relieved by. He doesn’t consider himself to be one of the more uptight royals like many others he knows, but he also wouldn’t be thrilled by the idea of sitting down in a cold, dirty cave in the rain. Even with your haste, though, you’re both quite wet by now.
Though the cave is spacious enough for you two, it becomes apparent that both of you and the horse won’t fit. Instead, Doyoung guides the animal to take shelter nearby under a willow tree with overhanging branches.
The cave is not very deep at all, only extending a few feet backwards. Perhaps that’s reassuring, at least for Doyoung, because there won’t be any disgruntled animals popping out to protest against their space being invaded.
“Well, that was interesting.” You chuckle as you squeeze water out of the hem of your dress.
“Suppose I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” Doyoung does the same for the ends of his hair, though he knows it will be a while before it gets acceptably dry.
You laugh and nod. “You said you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” you ask.
Doyoung pauses and looks at you carefully, with rainwater dripping off his chin and darkening his clothes. He looks very serious, which is something you haven’t really seen before. It makes concern rise in your stomach, thinking maybe he has some bad news to deliver.
However, you’ve mistaken the intensity in his eyes for somberness when it’s something else entirely.
“I...love you.”
You regard him with wide eyes, feeling a little taken aback. The rain pours noisily in the background, but you’ve heard him loud and clear.
“I know we have only known each other for a few months,” he continues, “but I love you. I want to be with you.”
You’re surprised that he feels this strongly about you already, but it’s also true that you’ve felt yourself falling for him in the past few months, with his thoughtful gifts and kind smile and soft voice. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, lips parting minutely. He catches the small movement of your mouth, like he notices everything about you—whether you acknowledged it before or not.
Doyoung takes your hand. Though his palm is wet from the rain, you don’t care about that. “I think about you when I’m not here in the forest…and when I’m overseeing my brothers’ lessons. I dream about you when I sleep at night. Every time I get another gift for you, it’s because I want to see you smile so brightly like that again, because of me. I never want to know a day without you.”
You know Eupheme isn’t his home, that he has to leave someday. You know elves don't generally think kindly of dryads, viewing you all as frivolous and foolish and loose; and even if him and his brothers don’t, there’s no telling what the rest of his family thinks. You also know that even without those two things standing in the way, he’s still a prince who’ll need to be married to a suitable bride at some point. All of those things make you nervous. There are many obstacles before you, but you allow yourself to forget them momentarily as you stand in this cave with him.
You bring Doyoung’s hand up to your lips and kiss his knuckles softly, taking what warmth you can despite his cool skin. You hold his hand tightly, like it might be taken away from you otherwise. “Doyoung…you have charmed me unlike anyone else.”
You bring that hand closer and place it over your racing heart, and he seems a bit hesitant at first because of the proximity to your breast, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he readily responds to the kiss you give him afterwards, drinking in your warmth as a balm for the sudden cool air. For a while, there’s only the sound of rain coming down and your lips connecting with each other’s.
You don’t know how long you kiss each other, but there’s nothing else you can do in this small cave, so you continue without thought to the outside circumstances. Even after your lips part, you huddle close together. You close your eyes in Doyoung’s embrace, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and breathing underneath your ears and basking in the fullness of your own heart.
When the rain finally stops, Doyoung has to leave. The sun will be setting soon; the downpour went on longer than either of you anticipated.
“I promise I’ll come back soon,” he says, clinging to your hand with both of his.
“You always do.” You already trust him more than you can say.
Doyoung nods to your words, smiling somewhat bashfully. He steps out of the cave and lets your hand slip from his. But before he can get more than a few feet away, he turns around and comes back to kiss you once more on the lips, his fingertips on your face like he can’t believe you’re real.
You laugh once you separate from each other. “The sun’s getting low, and the others will question you. Go on now.”
Doyoung keeps to his word and makes his way out after fetching his horse, but he keeps glancing back to you until he’s completely disappeared among the brush.
You feel like your mind has been filled with soft moss, all airy and soft and tangled together with unending thoughts. You walk back to your tree feeling as if you could float there instead, enjoying the damp grass under your feet.
The time slips by blissfully.
Doyoung keeps coming out to see you during his free time each week, as he has done since he’s been in Eupheme, though sometimes he’s able to manage more than just one or two visits. On those weeks when he comes out more often, whether it be at night or during the day, you hold him especially tightly, enjoying the extra time with him and wanting to live inside of it—to freeze a moment in time and keep it close to your chest for as long as possible.
“I wish you could see the castle,” Doyoung says this low and close to your ear like he’s telling you a secret. He lies on his side beside you in the grass, playing with your fingers. A gap in the treetops lets a lopsided circle of sunlight shine down on your faces, warming you both from the inside out. “Walk through the maze of land...or see the stable.”
You hum softly. “Hmm...I’m sure it’s nice.” Doyoung laughs, knowing you’re not interested in any place else other than your forest; you can’t hide the neutral note in your tone, though he knows it isn’t towards him.
“Or I could live out here with you.” He strokes the pad of his thumb along the length of your ring finger, and you don’t fail to notice this.
You turn to him, full on grinning now. “I thought you said you’d never want to be tied to one place. Remember?”
Doyoung grins sheepishly along with you. “Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Mmm, how indecisive you are…if you stay with me here, you can’t ever leave.” You pluck a tiny blue flower from the ground and brush it against his lips, tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow with it. “Make your choice wisely.”
Doyoung purses his lips against the small flower, as if giving it a kiss, and does the same with your fingers as they ghost across his mouth. “I’ve chosen already, princess.”
You lean in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. The little blue flower slips from your hand. You don’t know if there could ever be a more perfect moment, kissing him like this with the warmth of the sun on your back and your ears full of the sounds of birds chirping and insects purring—and, in the very distance, the lake water running.
You don’t get to bask in the moment for too long, though, before something is interrupting you; and it’s not one of the other women like you might’ve expected.
There’s a rustling and a crash in the bushes, and you whip your head towards the noise, but it’s only a deer—or maybe some other creature—running off. You catch a few glimpses of its brown coat before it becomes obscured by the leaves. You still keep your gaze turned towards the bushes. Though there is nothing else there, you still get the odd sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
“What’s wrong?” Doyoung whispers, his index finger touching your cheek. He glances at the source of the noise, but his eyes stay mostly focused on you.
“I know it’s odd, but…have you ever felt like you were being watched? Even though nothing’s there?” you ask slowly. “I’ve…sort of felt like this a few other times when we were together.”
Doyoung looks suspicious for a moment, though he eventually shakes his head. “No, I...not really.” He sits up to look at the same space you’re staring at, but he doesn’t see anything more than you do. “If someone else were out here besides the other dryads and the animals, wouldn’t you already know?”
“I suppose that is true,” you say, though you still look towards the bush, trying to see if there’s something you’re somehow not spotting. The sense that you have a pair of eyes at your back still doesn’t go away, even when Doyoung finally pulls you away from the spot to walk further into the woods.
In the middle of August, the Archduke of Eupheme holds a ball. He has been renown for his exorbitant parties for many years, and although he couches this party in the excuse of making the Crown Prince and his brothers feel a bit more at home in the kingdom, everyone knows it’s really just a reason to get drunk and have some fun. No one would dare complain, though; after all, who’d pass up the chance to attend? To rub elbows with handsome men and women and forget more pressing worries for a while?
The King and Queen of Eupheme see it as a good way for the young men to show off their newly acquired social etiquette they’ve been sharpening during their lessons—and possibly mingle with noble women. Similarly, none of the brothers will object to the latter idea. Except for maybe Doyoung.
“Cheer up! I’ve never seen you look so unsettled when going to a party,” Jungwoo says, pinching Doyoung’s cheek. They’re all loaded into their separate stagecoaches, with Jungwoo, Doyoung, Jaemin, and Mark in one and the other boys inside another behind them.
“I’m fine,” Doyoung insists, waving away the concern and plastering a hesitant smile on his face. He can already guess what’s in store for tonight.
The ride to the Archduke’s place is shorter than Doyoung expected. It’s been a long time since they last visited the Archduke’s mansion, and he swears he remembers the journey being longer than this. He sucks in a deep breath as he steps out of the stagecoach. The mansion looms large up ahead, obviously not quite as big as the King and Queen’s castle, but extravagant enough to be of note. Its stone interior glows with rows of brightly burning torches decorating either side of its grand entryway.
The Archduke’s large ballroom is filled to the brim with high-ranking officials and other nobility, with everyone mingling together in a big glittering clump of bodies and puffy dresses and long hair. There’s no other race but elves there, which is usually expected at royal balls like these; other species are often relegated to roles of servant, cleaner, waiter, and so on.
There’s a notable stir when the King and Queen and the eight men enter, and the room parts down the middle to make room for them.
The men wave and smile and mingle like they’ve been taught to, though some revel in it a bit more than others. They’re quickly embraced by the crowd, and the Archduke and Archduchess come to greet them. A young woman walks slightly behind them, her brown hair pinned up in an elaborate updo, wisps of hair clinging around her elven ears. Doyoung remembers her as their daughter and only child, who was never allowed to play in the yard with them as children because “such rowdy behavior wasn’t fitting for a lady of her sensibilities,” as her mother used to say.
“I’m sure you all remember Eunomia,” the Archduke says, encouraging the young woman to come to the front. The brothers all nod in acknowledgement, answering her curtsy with their own bows.
“You’ve grown even prettier since we were young,” Jungwoo says, smiling politely. The girl smiles timidly back to him.
“Thank you. You’ve become quite handsome yourself.”
“We’re so glad that we could be graced with the presence of the Crown Prince of Ceres tonight,” the Archduke continues. “We’ve all been looking forward to your appearance since we got word of your family visiting Eupheme. The timing, especially, is quite extraordinary, as we’ve been vetting possible suitors for our Eunomia.” It’s everything just short of an actual proposition to marry his daughter, and Doyoung’s lips twitch as a thousand different thoughts flit through his mind.
Doyoung bows his head slightly in acknowledgement of their statement and schools his expression into something neutral and amiable. “Extraordinary timing, indeed.”
It’s not long before the music is rising to a grand swell again. The other boys part ways to search for dance partners in the crowd, and Doyoung already knows what’s expected of him. He holds his hand out to Eunomia. “Would you like to dance?”
She nods and takes his hand. Doyoung leads her onto the main dancefloor beside a few other individuals who have already coupled up. A relatively fast tune carries their feet across the floor like the wind.
Eunomia is pretty, nice, and quiet. She’s too shy to meet Doyoung’s eyes directly—no doubt as a result of her parents’ training—and she lets him lead the conversation the same way he leads their dance. She would make the perfect wife to any other man but him.
Doyoung might have been more willing to pursue something with her if this gathering had happened a year before or even a few months ago, before their visit to Eupheme. Now, he only feels uninterested at best—and burdened at worst—about it all. He’s uncomfortable with the way her hand sweats in his palm, and with how fragile she feels in his hold. His mind keeps drifting back to the forest, though he tries to be present in the here and now.
The next few dances go similarly. Though his brothers and cousins seem to be enjoying themselves with the number of pretty women they have at their behest, Doyoung doesn’t feel the same. He ends up approached by various noblemen throughout the night, all holding some prestigious rank or another and seeking to introduce him to their daughters and insinuate a dance. And of course, being the gentleman and prince he is, how can he say no?
Each of the women is unique in their own way, but still not quite enough to hold his attention for long. He’s already made his mind up about who he wants, though you can’t be with him here now—or anywhere but the forest, really. This knowledge is equal parts comforting and disagreeable. He finally has an answer to the question about whether he’d ever find someone to love, though it turns out he cannot even be with you in an easy, convenient way.
By the time the night ends and the royals are on their way back to the castle, Doyoung is rather tightly wound. His mind swarms with thoughts of everything that occurred earlier in the evening and how annoyed and restless it all made him. Increasingly, he’s beginning to feel like he’s up against a wall that he just can’t surmount. He almost yearns for the days when he unquestioningly accepted his duty and actually received some enjoyment from his courtships, but he’d never truly want to go back. Not if it meant not knowing you.
“Are you okay? You seem upset,” Mark says hesitantly, noticing Doyoung’s tensed jaw as he keeps his face turned towards the window, looking out at the nightscape. Doyoung only gives his brother a quick glance before nodding curtly.
“I’m quite alright.” It’s a lie, but Doyoung doesn’t feel like trying to explain his mood at the moment. Though it’s easy enough for them to guess why Doyoung’s visits to the forest have been so much more frequent over the past month or so—and subsequently, why his mood is so sour now—it remains an open secret.
Jaemin settles back in his cushioned seat, grinning slightly to himself before looking up at Doyoung. “Your name must be on many a lady’s dance card tonight, Doyoung. I suspect every woman at the party had a turn, if not the Archduchess herself.” Mark elbows him in the side, but the younger man doesn’t think anything of it.
“I suppose so.” Doyoung rubs his finger over his lower lip. “But maybe you should be more concerned that the competition is diminishing your chances.” Mark and Jungwoo chuckle at that.
“Not to worry. When the time comes, the only choice they’ll have is me.” The younger two laugh even more enthusiastically, and Doyoung only shakes his head, grinning slightly despite himself.
Once everyone is settled in for the night, Doyoung waits in his bed for an hour to be safe and then decides to sneak out to see you. Once again, he doesn’t bother with visiting the stable to take the horse, nor does he try to make himself look “presentable,” tired of being princely for the night. The only thing he does is pull on his pants and shoes and button up his shirt halfway before losing his patience and yanking his cloak on.
He uses his glamor to momentarily disguise himself as he passes through Arthenia, though the few stragglers outside don’t pay him much mind.
“Y/N?” Doyoung calls out your name, slipping his cloak to the ground once he gets to your familiar oak tree. He soon hears and sees the fluttering of tree leaves as you descend from the canopy and touch the ground, alighting from the branches as gracefully as if you’ve been doing it your entire life—which you have.
“My, sir. Here at this hour again? What could b—” You don’t get to finish your sentence before Doyoung is gathering you up in his arms and kissing you hard, his forearms wrapped tight around your waist. He picks you up off the ground and you let yourself be lifted, toes barely grazing the grass.
It’s a long moment before you can regain your breath. You look at him incredulously as he sets you back on the grass, pressing his forehead to yours.
“What...what’s got you in such a state?”
“Love,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your lips. You laugh at that, holding his flushed face in your hands.
“It’s a pleasant thing, isn’t it? But really, what is it? You seem tense.”
“I am tense,” Doyoung says, though he keeps his lips close to yours. He’s not really in the mood to go into detail about the evening and disturb what’s currently unfolding between you. “It’s just...royal niceties. They can become quite tiring.”
“That’s a pity,” you reply, though you pause in your next thought when his lips find your jawline and press against it firmly. This is the most intimate contact you’ve had since you met, or since he confessed to you, and it ignites a burning flame in your chest. “Maybe there is something that can help you with that.”
Doyoung pulls back to look you in the eyes, wondering if you’re insinuating exactly what he thinks. You step away from him and tug on his hand, pulling him away from the tree. “I’ll show you.”
You both walk along a section of the forest that Doyoung isn’t familiar with, and he conjures some light orbs to illuminate the pathway. You spend a long time walking—so long that he’s almost afraid he won’t be able to find his way back out. Or maybe he’ll encounter one of those unfriendly creatures that you previously mentioned lives on the outskirts. Wherever you’re taking him is farther than he’s ventured before.
You finally stop when you get near the west edge of the forest. The trees are slightly sparser here, and there’s a path through the middle that trails off onto the bottom of a steep hill. The hill marks the end of the forest and flattens out onto a field of tall grass. He catches glimpses of the grass swaying in the breeze under the moonlight and the light of his own orbs.
That’s far from the most eye-catching thing here, though. Another lake sits before you two, though it’s much smaller than the other one—more like a pond—and forms a nearly perfect circle.
You walk along the grassy bank and pull Doyoung along with you, and he’s surprised to feel heat coming from the water as he gets nearer to it. It’s not a burning hotness, but a comfortable warmth.
“Shall we swim?” You look at Doyoung over your shoulder, letting go of his hand to tug at one strap of your dress. He nods, watching wordlessly as you peel your dress off in front of him. His throat tightens to see you’re wearing nothing underneath. Standing nude underneath the combined glow of the moon and his own blue light makes you look positively ethereal, and Doyoung mentally imprints this image in his mind, filing it away as a permanent memory.
He watches as you step off the grassy bank and get into the pond, the black water lapping at your legs as you wade further into it. He’s still standing and simply observing you as you turn around to look at him and lift your arms out of the water, like you’re asking for a hug. “Are you going to leave me all alone in here?” You give him your best pleading eyes, and it doesn’t take long for him to strip his clothes off and come in after you.
He dips underneath the water’s surface and swims around you, and you giggle as you can just barely make out his form under the water. You can only spot the ripples he leaves behind.
Doyoung’s head pops above the water on the farther side of the pond, with his long black hair sticking to his face and covering his shoulders. It makes his ears stand out more, and you laugh. You swim over to him and he pulls you into him when you’re close enough, your naked bodies molding themselves to each other. You’re about to say something, but his lips quickly envelop yours and you forget any words you formerly had. You kiss for a while in the lake’s warm water, with the full moon and Doyoung’s lights serving as your only illumination.
You haven’t done much else but kiss so far, but you can still feel something hard and warm pressing into your stomach. Doyoung’s lips separate from yours to travel to your neck, pressing against your pulse point and softly sucking the skin there.
You pull away to look at him, your body feeling strangely light and hot all at the same time. “Maybe we should get out of the water,” you say, smiling coyly.
Doyoung nods and scoops you up, carrying you out of the lake and setting you down on the unnaturally soft grass surrounding the waters. It feels almost like a cotton blanket underneath you.
You’re both fully exposed in front of each other now, though you don’t really feel embarrassed about it. Doyoung’s hands are warm as he cups the sides of your face and nudges his nose against yours, teasing you momentarily with the promise of his lips before actually kissing you again.
You like feeling his hair underneath your palm, all wet and slick beneath your fingertips, and you run your fingers through the strands. They coil around his neck and shoulders like little snakes, or maybe vines on a climbing plant.
His member stands against his stomach, already leaking precum from the press of your lips and the warmth of your body against his. You reach out to touch him, tracing your fingertip against a vein and feeling the stickiness of the precum, and Doyoung sighs against your lips. His hands come to your inner thighs, pushing them a bit further apart so he can dip his fingers between them and feel you wet and warm for him.
You gasp sharply when he slides a finger into you. He reaches deeply inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he fingers you, and it makes you spread your legs wider and push your hips closer into his touch. You wrap your fingers around him, and you enjoy the pulse of his cock in your hand as you stroke him.
Doyoung soon slips another finger into you, stretching you out more for him, and you moan as he does. You press your mouth against the base of this throat and his collarbones, feeling the firmness of them as you lightly drag your teeth over them. As if by luck, he shifts his fingers a certain way and brushes against that sweet spot that has you leaning further into his body and moaning hotly against his neck.
“Doyoung…” you sigh. He gives you an answering moan as your fingertips slide over his tip, purposely lingering at the slit. Your lips brush against each other’s, not quite kissing but making some semblance of the motion. Despite how good you’re feeling now, with his hand working you up to an inescapable high, you decide you need to have more of him; you need to get as close as possible. “Doyoung, please.”
“What do you need?” he asks, his voice unbearably gentle and breathy in your ear.
“You.” You take your hand away from him to guide his body on top of yours, parting your legs to invite him in-between. You are less preoccupied with foreplay at the moment and just want him inside you, which he has no complaints about.
The firm press of him inside you is unlike anything you’ve felt in the recent past. It’s not like dryads go their entire lives without sexual pleasure—of course, there’s always self-pleasure and the company of other women, and even the occasional agreeable male visitor who comes into the forest—but it’s been a long time since you’ve experienced it delivered by another person’s body. It’s almost strange, but also good and familiar, if only a little painful at first.
You try to breathe evenly as Doyoung seats himself inside you, his hands stroking you so adoringly that it makes you lose your bearings. Him leaning forward to kiss you only takes more of your breath.
“Is this good for you?” he asks quietly. You’re not quite sure what part of it he’s referring to—him inside you or his hands strumming along your breasts and clit—but you nod enthusiastically. Everything he’s doing feels undeniably good. Just when you think it could not get any better, he pulls out a bit and starts thrusting into you. His pace is slow, allowing you to adjust, but it’s enough to make you cry out loud, gripping his slick shoulders for support.
Doyoung brings himself close to kiss your lips again, grinning against your mouth. “Shhh, my princess. If you’re too loud, you’ll wake all the others.”
You nod against his wet forehead, breathing heavily, though it’s a bit hard to keep yourself quiet as he fills your body over and over again. You press your thighs tight against his hips, feeling the muscles in his body flex as he thrusts into you. His movements create a slick sound between you, and the lewd quality of it entices you more.
While one of his hands slides slick and slow across your clit, you grasp the other and bring it up to your lips, kissing his fingers like you did the day he told you he loved you, and then nibbling on them, sucking them into your mouth. Doyoung twitches inside you when your mouth tightens around his fingers, and he groans into the night air. You’re reluctant to let his hand go, but you do it so he can leverage himself enough to dip his head lower and give more attention to your breasts, drawing his tongue across the round firmness of them and catching your nipples in his mouth.
He angles himself a bit differently so he can find your spot again and concentrates on repeatedly pushing into that sensitive part of you. His attentions bring you to your climax soon, and you can barely quiet yourself as you come around him. The pleasure seems never-ending, like it’s pouring into you from a bottomless well, and small tears bead at the corners of your eyes. Doyoung cups your face and kisses your tears away, and you hold the back of his head as he does.
When Doyoung gets close, he slips himself from inside you and thrusts in between the tight space of your thighs, his tip rubbing across your stomach. He comes soon after doing this, his seed pooling on your skin, some of it running into the grass.
You both lie in the grass after the aftermath, with Doyoung pulling you so you can lay your body on top of his. His heartbeat is still fast; you hear it hammering in his chest as you rest your head against his breast. You close your eyes and let the sound of it calm your own restless body.
After a few long moments of listening to the insects and night creatures making their midnight songs, you stir from your position on his chest and draw yourself up. “Doyoung…” you murmur, straddling either side of his waist so you’re hovering over him. You press your lips against his and he responds with a slow kiss. You can practically feel how satisfied he is as his lips push against yours, like a drunken sprite who’s gotten into a cup of ale.
You depart from his lips and trail your mouth over the rest of his body until you’re level with his softened cock. It jumps a bit when you grasp it, and Doyoung groans softly; his voice increases slightly when you press your lips to it, still tasting the remnants of his salty release and your own pleasure. His hand comes to hold the back of your head as you take him into your mouth, licking the shaft and feeling his balls in your other hand.
Though he was the one who’d hushed you earlier, now he has to choke back his own moans as you suck him and stroke your tongue around his tip.
You draw your mouth away from him, and a trail of spit follows your lips. “Does this feel good, my prince?” you ask, still stroking him languidly to keep his pleasure stoked. You know it does, but you want to hear it from his mouth anyway.
“So good.” He makes a noise between a whimper and a groan, and it travels straight to the apex of your thighs. His stomach tenses with his strained breaths as you take him back into your mouth, focusing your attention on the leaking slit.
His thighs tremble when he gets closer, and as much as you’d like to have him come in your mouth and drip over your chin, you decide to pull away and straddle your legs around his waist again. Doyoung whines needily, though his complaints are quickly forgotten when your sex slides over his slick shaft. He waits with bated breath as you grab the base of his member and line him up with your entrance, pushing him into you as you sink down on him. Feeling him part your walls makes your legs shake a little, and you readjust your posture so you can maintain your stability.
You seat yourself fully on top of Doyoung and let him press himself up into you as you push back down on him, your hands scraping for purchase on his chest. In this position, you can control the pace and ride him just so that his tip is pressing into your most sensitive spot.
Eventually, you lean forward with your mouth covering his. Another orgasm approaches you fast, and you pant against his lips as you search for that release again. “I love you,” you moan softly, trying to muffle your sounds with the touch of his lips.
Doyoung’s hands roam your body, coming up to palm your breasts and thumb at your nipples. “I adore you,” he whispers.
This time you both come within moments of each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. Doyoung pushes himself into you until you’re leaking over him once more, and then he hurriedly pulls out and comes across your thigh, leaving trails of white dripping down your skin.
Doyoung knows he’ll need to get up and get dressed at some point—and begin the long trek back to the castle—but he doesn’t think about that right now. He just pulls you closer and enjoys the warm stickiness of your bodies together, the lukewarm breeze stirring his hair, and the gentle grass tickling his skin.
“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”
Jungwoo brings this up to Donghyuck during one of their archery lessons as they sit beside each other underneath the sun. The younger man was noticeably not as concentrated or effortless as he’d usually be, and many of his arrows ended up being off-mark, if not missing their targets entirely.
Currently, they both sit in the grass after their instructor called for a break earlier, stating that they needed some time to cool off and pull it together—Donghyuck in particular.
“I’m fine,” Donghyuck grumbles, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. If he could close his ears, too, he would. Unfortunately for him, his brother doesn’t take that as a sign to stop talking.
“That’s doubtful. Really, what’s chafing you? I know all the lessons can be annoying, but there is nothing we can do about that for now.” The younger man doesn’t answer at all this time, but Jungwoo continues on. “I know Doyoung isn’t with us during our breaks as often as he was before, but isn’t that a good thing? He can’t tell us what to do all the time.”
Donghyuck groans, wiping his hands over his face at the mention of their older brother. Jungwoo perks up at this. “Oh? Is it something with Doyoung that’s bothering you? What is it?”
Donghyuck is quiet for a moment longer. When it’s clear Jungwoo won’t leave the matter alone, he turns to face his brother fully, looking at him more closely. He hesitates for a moment before finally saying, “What would you do if you wanted something you couldn’t have?”
Jungwoo thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. It depends on what it is. Maybe the logical answer would be to just give it up and stop indulging a fruitless case.”
Donghyuck sighs, hanging his head. “Of course. But what if...alright, what if it was a person? Someone you’re particularly fond of. And…they just make you feel as if…if they looked at you once, you wouldn’t hesitate to hand them anything they could ever want. Then would you give up on them so easily?”
Jungwoo’s eyes widen, and Donghyuck thinks he must’ve said too much. Before he can speak to try to defuse the situation, Jungwoo says, “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about Nayeon. I’m sorry Donghyuck, but—”
“Ugh,” Donghyuck pushes himself to his feet, taking up his bow and arrow again and walking off to one of the targets farther away from Jungwoo. “Nevermind.”
After Donghyuck gives a few more unsuccessful tries, the instructor decides to dismiss them early and encourages Donghyuck to keep his head clear for their next session. “I am well aware of what you’re capable of, Donghyuck, and I know you understand your own abilities. Just look at it as simply having an off day, but do try to keep your concentration next time.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, already feeling drained even though they’re only halfway through the day. The walk back to the castle with Jungwoo is quiet, though crossing the ample landscape gives him plenty of time to think to himself. What you’re capable of...Yes. What is he capable of?
Maybe there was still a way to alter the course.
“You’re particularly quiet today,” you remark, studying Doyoung’s face. You’re both sitting in the small clearing where you and the other dryads often gather at night, only it’s daytime now and the other girls are off doing their own things. Deeper among the woods, you can hear their laughter from a distance.
Doyoung came to visit you with a solemn look, and though you can tell he is still glad to see you, there’s also a tinge of disquiet beneath it.
A strong gust blows some strands of hair into his face, and you brush them away before he can do it himself. He turns his head and stares at you as you do, his eyes big and imploring and brewing with a distress you can’t place. “Actually, you seem to be a bit different since...that night,” you continue. Your face warms at the thought of your first time together, and how Doyoung took you in the grass and whispered sweet adoration to you. “Is something wrong?”
Doyoung’s lips part like he wants to speak, though he remains silent for a few moments more. Then he says something that nearly makes your heart stop, the words coming slow off his tongue. “I want to give up my title.”
“Your title? As Crown Prince? How can you do that?”
“I could do it,” he says, his voice still low. “There’s no law against it. It might be...dishonorable. No, it would certainly not be…” He pauses, then abandons whatever he was about to say. “But there’s no law to stop me.”
“But why? I thought you liked being royalty, at least to some degree. Your station in life affords you many things others don’t have.”
“It doesn’t afford me you.” He grasps your hand where it lies in the grass. “We can’t be together if I’m still Crown Prince. If I walk away, though...”
You’re also quiet now, unsure how to respond to a declaration like this. For Doyoung to give up his royal title for you...it’s a much bigger implication than you think he’s really considering.
“But, the throne...you’re the heir, and it just…” You’re almost desperate to come up with at least 100 reasons why he can’t do it, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe you’re too afraid to hope it could be possible, even if it’s the slightest chance.
“I have six other brothers. Any one of them could...” Doyoung falters, remembering Yuta’s and Sicheng’s controversial parentage, and then sighs but tries to remain hopeful. You look at him with wrinkled brows, worry crowding your heart. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, looping his arm with yours.
“I don’t know if they’d ever agree to it,” you say it almost inaudibly.
“There’s no way to know if we don’t try…” Doyoung replies, hugging you tightly to him. “I don’t care about giving up my title.”
You shake your head. “There are so many other things to consider, Doyoung.”
Doyoung knows you’re worried and doubtful, but he holds you close to him and kisses your temple and tries not to think about those things. He only wants to think about all the good things the future could hold for you.
A small grin appears on his face as he wills his mind to drift elsewhere. “How many children would you like to have?” Doyoung asks suddenly. You give him an incredulous look, though there is a grin of your own slowly taking over your lips.
“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want children.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “As long as I’ve been on this Earth, I’d have them by now if I wanted them.”
“Then it’d be just the two of us forever?” Doyoung pulls you so you’re both lying down and entangles himself with you, his head on your chest. He listens to your heart, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a sense of sleepiness. “That’s fine with me.”
You feel a tug at your heart, like the chambers are contracting in pain. “Yes, an eternity together.”
Despite your many doubts and questions, you have a warm dream that night. One of you and Doyoung living in the forest together, running through the hills, jumping across creeks, and enjoying each other’s company to your heart’s content.
Donghyuck knocks on the door of the King’s sitting room, his palms sweating as he waits for a response. Sicheng stands beside him, quiet and waiting to see if the man will respond. The King of Eupheme may be a long-term friend of their father’s, but Donghyuck can’t help the slight fear he feels whenever he’s in the man’s presence. Something about him has always been a little colder, more unforgiving, and more unyielding than their own father is.
“Who is it?” The man’s voice booms from behind the door.
“It...it’s Donghyuck and Sicheng, Your Highness.” Donghyuck’s voice wavers a bit as he speaks, and he tries to suppress the tremors in his speech. “We’re here for our...meeting.”
“Come in, then.”
Donghyuck turns the doorknob and enters the room, closing the heavy door behind him and his brother.
“Well, then. What is the pressing matter you have to inform me of?” The King raises one eyebrow, looking skeptical about whether Donghyuck has anything to report or not, though he waits patiently for the boy’s response.
The elven King’s presence seems impossibly heavier in this singular room, filling every corner of the space and physically weighing down the Earth’s gravity. Donghyuck almost doesn’t know what to do with himself in response to this force. Sicheng is less affected by it—or better at hiding it—though his face creases minutely. Donghyuck ends up speaking without thinking clearly about what he practiced prior.
“D…Doyoung is courting a dryad.”
“A...what, boy?” The King slowly leans forward, his sharp eyebrows drawing together, one hand coming up to stroke his long beard. They both know that he knows full well what a dryad is, but he seems unable to comprehend what Donghyuck has just blurted out. Or maybe he thinks the younger man is lying.
“A-a dryad, Your Highness. He’s been using his assigned free time—and sneaking out at night—every week to see her, in the forest beyond Arthenia. H…he’s even thinking of asking to be relieved from his title to be with her.” Donghyuck feels sweat gathering on the back of his neck, as if he’s the one about to be punished.
The King’s brows furrow even more, though this time his eyes hold a hint of rising anger. He leans back in his seat again, holding Donghyuck and Sicheng with a hard stare. “These are quite damning claims to make. Where is your proof?” Before either one can respond, the King continues on. “He will doubtless be questioned, but I would think that both of you have ample reason to try to sabotage the Crown Prince—especially you.” He directs his gaze to Sicheng at this, and Sicheng’s face falters. “A whore’s son will always believe he’s owed more than he’s worth.”
Disgust and hatred rises up in Sicheng’s chest at being regarded like this—always as less than his half-brothers—though he tries not to let his rage show. His jaw clenches as he speaks, keeping his tone measured, and it takes him a long moment to force out a proper response. “We indeed have proof…Your Highness.”
“If you’ll allow us, we need a mirror, Your Highness,” Donghyuck adds.
Still with a skeptical look on his face, the King waves his hand towards a small round mirror hanging on the east wall, sitting formerly unacknowledged despite all its ornate trappings. Sicheng walks over and takes it off the wall, coming back to stand in front of the King with it. Donghyuck comes up behind Sicheng and lays a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, pressing his index and middle finger where his brain stem would be. Donghyuck closes his eyes and concentrates, while Sicheng keeps his own eyes open, staring into the depths of the mirror and his own reflection.
In the mirror image, his eyes turn a foggy gray. Donghyuck’s memories flood into his mind as if they were his own, experienced with his own five senses; he can almost smell the forest grass and feel the sun burning his skin. Sicheng then takes his right hand and presses his fingertips against the mirror, forcing it to bend to his power and replicate what he’s seeing in his mind’s eye.
When the image becomes steady, Sicheng holds the mirror up to the King and lets him see what it displays; you and Doyoung lying in the grass together, with you dragging a tiny blue flower across his lips. Doyoung tilting his head up to accept your kiss. You looking straight ahead, trying to figure out why you sense a disturbance in the forest, only to see a deer—and missing the invisible form of Donghyuck staring at you and your lover from the bushes. Your conversation is hard to hear, consisting of mostly vague echoes, as if you were speaking underwater—channeling sounds is harder than conjuring up images—but there’s no need for words to understand what’s going on.
The King’s eyes are a windstorm of emotions at this point, a close rival to the actual stormy gray of Sicheng’s eyes as he reveals the memory. He is silent for an excruciatingly long moment. Still, he continually strokes his beard in a repetitive motion, though his gaze displays the true anger burning beneath the surface.
“And where is Doyoung right now?” he finally asks, after it seems like an eon has passed. Then he waves his hand sharply towards the mirror. “I’ve seen enough of that.”
“He has no duties to attend to as of right now, so he must’ve gone to the forest,” Sicheng responds. Donghyuck takes his hand away from his neck then, stepping back in a jerky motion as he tries to regain some of the energy spent from transferring the memory. Likewise, the mirror image fades once Sicheng takes his hand away from the glass, and the normal brown of his irises bleeds back into his eyes. “To see her again, no doubt.”
The King nods, pressing his fingers together into a steeple, his thick rings glinting in the light of the room. “Just as you say, the matter is quite grave. The King and Queen of Ceres will have to be notified immediately...and it will be handled accordingly.”
Donghyuck and Sicheng nod to the King’s statement, shooting each other looks out of the corners of their eyes. Donghyuck feels a small sense of triumph at knowing his brother will likely be sent back to Ceres soon—or at least, forbidden to see you anymore—even if he knows deep within that he shouldn’t be reveling in Doyoung’s impending heartbreak like this.
“Unfortunately, it also cannot be forgotten that you two, and all your other brothers, withheld this information for months.” The King blinks slowly. “I must also assume that my sons have been swept up in concealing this utter nonsense, to some degree. Those transgressions will be dealt with accordingly as well.” He draws the last sentence out to emphasize his claim, though the men have already heard him clearly. The tiny smirks they allowed themselves to show quickly fade.
Donghyuck feels as if he’s just had a bucket of cold water poured down his back, and Sicheng’s fists curl tightly around the mirror.
Donghyuck is the first to respond, bowing his head. “A-as necessary, Your Highness.” Sicheng lowers his own head after the younger does, though with noticeable reluctance.
The King waves his hand as a signal for the two men to leave, though he still looks thoughtful for reasons neither of them could guess. “You are both dismissed.”
Sicheng is fuming once they leave the sitting room, though Donghyuck’s anxiety manifests itself as tense silence, which is a true rarity for him.
“Look what your impulsiveness has gotten us into this time,” Sicheng gripes once they’re far enough away to not be heard. Donghyuck reawakens at that and shoots his brother daggers with his gaze.
“I didn’t think we’d get punished, too! And if you thought it was such a bad idea, you should’ve never agreed to it!”
Sicheng shakes his head, scoffing. “It’s neither here nor there anymore. Whatever comes of this had better be worth it.”
“You’d better hope,” Donghyuck continues. “Like we don’t know you’d sell us all out to have Yuta, your favorite brother, as the Crown Prince instead of Doyoung.”
Sicheng whips back around to Donghyuck. “I’d think he’d deserve it more than any of you ingrates who’ve had everything handed to you. You could never even imagine what it’s like to have to fight and scrape for an iota of respect among your own family.”
Donghyuck wants to scream something childish and hurtful back at him, but he’s lost on what to say. They all know Sicheng and Yuta have always been a bit separate from the rest of them despite their best efforts to make them feel included, but he hadn’t realized Sicheng felt quite this forsaken. The King’s earlier words certainly don’t help. Donghyuck has enough conscience left to feel guilty, though he refuses to acknowledge that aloud now.
When Sicheng sees that Donghyuck doesn’t have a response, he nods in vindication and stomps off.
After Doyoung returns to the castle that afternoon, the atmosphere in the castle is notably more tense. It’s as if storm clouds have gathered in the rafters, waiting for the perfect time to rain down hell. He senses this acutely, though he can’t quite understand the reasoning for it.
Donghyuck is uncharacteristically quiet today, and Sicheng is similarly reserved. Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin conduct their business as usual, though there is a certain stiffness to their auras; the kind of careful and cautious demeanor you learn to adopt when living under the constant presence of a ticking timebomb. Mark and Jungwoo, who accompanied Doyoung on his visit to Arthenia and the forest, remain just as clueless as him about what’s wrong, though they also feel uncomfortable underneath the weight of the tension.
The air stays this way for hours, including during their nightly dinner. The Queen and King don’t do or say anything out of the ordinary, though Doyoung can feel the King’s eyes on him as he eats. The sensation of being watched makes his stomach curl into a ball, and his heart kicks up like a drum at the thought that pops into his mind. Maybe he’s been found out? But how? He’s been as careful as he knows how to be. He doesn’t truly believe any of his brothers would tell, and his cousins have been too disinterested in the affair to go stirring up trouble behind it.
Their three cousins eat quietly with their eyes glued to their plates, wondering what could be the cause of their father’s anger this time. They’ve known him long enough to pick up on the telltale signs of his rage, even when not openly expressed.
It’s nothing short of a relief when dinner is finally over, though Doyoung’s blood turns to lead when he hears the King’s deep voice booming from behind him. “Doyoung. Come with me.” The other men shoot him varying looks as they file out of the dining room, though none of them say a word. Donghyuck throws him a concerned glance in an attempt to remain unsuspecting, though there is a slight unsteadiness in his step.
By the time he gets to the King’s sitting room, Doyoung’s heart is beating overtime. He stands in front of the older man with his spine ramrod straight and his lips tucked into a thin line. The King doesn’t even acknowledge his presence for a few moments, simply stroking his beard and looking at some spot in the distance. Doyoung can’t decide if this is worse than being pinned under his gaze or not, though he quickly gets his answer when the King finally looks at him.
“Do you understand your position as Crown Prince?” This is not what he expected to hear first, though it fails to ease his anxiety.
“Of course, Your Highness. It’s a high honor, and one that requires a certain discipline.”
“Then why have you allowed yourself to become quite so undisciplined in your activities?”
Doyoung doesn’t know how to respond to this at first. He blinks rapidly and sweat breaks out over his skin. “Activities?” he stammers out, his mouth drying up.
“You’ve allowed yourself to be enamored by a woman who is so low she must live in the forest like an animal and forage for food. And you think this behavior is becoming of a man of your station?”
The room appears to spin. If his heart was hammering before, now it stops momentarily. Doyoung feels like he’s just smashed into a stone wall head-on. “Your Highness...I…”
“Have you lain with this creature?”
“Sh-she’s not...I…”
“Have you? Do not lie.”
Doyoung thinks of your hands on him and feels sick at such an intimate moment being forced out into the open like this, in such a cruel manner. “Y…yes.”
The King shakes his head, his frown deepening even more, if that’s possible. “And is there any chance that she could be with child now?”
Doyoung can’t remember ever feeling this humiliated, flayed open for all to see. “No. I was...careful.” The King pauses for a moment, like he doesn’t quite believe Doyoung’s claim. He doesn’t ask any further questions about it, though, and Doyoung doesn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved about that.
“Understand that you are infinitely lucky that you are not a woman, Doyoung, and can remain relatively unsullied by such acts. Nevertheless, I would’ve thought your father would’ve raised more diligent sons than this.” The King leans forward, and it seems like the Earth itself shifts with this movement.
“Then let one of the others have my title,” Doyoung blurts out, finally finding his voice again. “Yuta or Jaehyun. It doesn’t matter who it is.”
“Yuta isn’t getting anything,” the King spits. “Do you mean to make a complete mockery of your family? Your kingdom? To have a bastard sitting on the throne? Your father is a noble man, but laying with whores has resulted in the two biggest mistakes of his life.”
Doyoung’s head swims, and he has to bite back the first response that rises to his mind. “Your Highness, you’re correct in noting that I’ve made a grave error. Perhaps I’m truly not suited for the role. Don’t you think having my title transferred would be the best way to remedy that? Jaehyun is fit to be the Crown Prince. He can take my title, and I—”
“And you can do what? Live in the forest with the rest of the dregs?” The King draws himself up in his chair, and the action reminds Doyoung of a big brown bear attempting to intimidate a trespasser in its territory. His muscles turn rigid with fear. “It would behoove you to abandon this insane talk if you don’t wish to make the consequences worse for yourself. I’m not your father, boy, but as long as he’s left you under my care, I won’t entertain such dishonor on his behalf. ”
Doyoung wants to continue protesting but also knows that, just like you told him, this appears to be a fruitless case. He lowers his head as his stomach twists and his body tenses up further with the fear of what will come next.
“As you can expect, there will be no more visits to the village or the forest, if you can exercise no more self-control than this.”
Doyoung blinks rapidly, though there are no tears coming. “Will you send me away?”
“That would only draw more attention, which is the last thing we need to do. You are simply to remain in the castle until it’s time for you all to return to Ceres. Barring any more royal events, you will not be going anywhere further than the front lawn.”
Doyoung says nothing to this. To speak or nod would feel like sealing his own fate, though it’s already been chosen for him.
“You are lucky, Doyoung. Remember that. It is easier than you think for all of this to be forgotten, swept under the rug, so you can return to your homeland with your title and dignity intact. See—we do not even need to let your mother and father know. In a year from now, you will be wed, and this will be nothing but a regretful—if vague—memory.”
Still, Doyoung does not respond, his tongue heavy and immobile.
“You are your family’s honor. The consequences will not be as harsh for you...as long as you obey.” The King’s body relaxes now, as if all the day’s tension has suddenly unwound itself, though this is more of a false sense of security than any true calm. “Is that understood?”
Doyoung’s throat burns. It seems like he’s being pressed in on all sides. Not answering the King is not an option. Not seeing you again is not an option, either, if he wishes to preserve any iota of happiness on this Earth. Here it comes, now—the wetness gathering in his eyes and the tightening of his chest.
“I understand, Your Highness.”
It has only been a few days since Doyoung last saw you, but this alone feels like centuries to him, especially with the King’s order trailing him like a cement block tied to his leg.
He doesn’t intend on following it, regardless of the consequences. Maybe he’s not thinking straight anymore, but nothing else matters as much as you to him now.
There isn’t any way to easily get to you, though, considering the guards that have been stationed outside his room every night. And the other guards who follow him around the castle nearly 24/7 now. His glamors only grant him enough leeway to disguise his face, which is no use in making it out of his doorway undetected.
The stress of it all nearly makes him physically sick.
His brothers and cousins are not guarded quite so constantly as he, but they are similarly forbidden from leaving the castle—lest they try to report back to you with a message from Doyoung, or something similar.
Doyoung still does not know how the King found out and has had no free opportunity to question his brothers and cousins about it. In the back of his mind, though, the idea that he could’ve been betrayed lives constantly among his thoughts. Thinking on it for too long makes the back of his mouth taste sour, but he can’t help the festering sense of distrust he feels towards everyone around him.
Frayed and at his wit’s end, Doyoung finally thinks of an idea after an entire week of missing your presence. It’s a lot to ask for and may not work, but he needs to at least try it once before ruling it out. He has to be careful about it, of course, to avoid being found out by any of the watchful guards. Still, he manages to write a note during an etiquette lesson with his brothers, when the guards are standing outside the room. It’s easy enough to disguise his pen’s movements as him simply taking notes.
When the instructor looks down to read something from his book—squinting harshly even in his glasses, for his lack of sight—Doyoung slips the piece of paper to Mark. Mark gives him a questioning glance, though he says nothing. He only opens the note towards the end of the lesson, which is probably for the best because he makes a startled noise after reading it. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed by the instructor who is too busy listening to Sicheng answer a question he just asked him. Mark’s eyes burn into the side of Doyoung’s face, though the older man only gives him a sparing glance and returns his attention to his papers.
Mark and Doyoung don’t get to talk formally until their next set of archery lessons. Only one of Doyoung’s guards is present that day, and he hangs back far enough outside of the archery range that it’d be difficult to hear their conversation, especially with them talking in low tones. Doyoung is the first one to initiate once their archery teacher becomes preoccupied with showing Jungwoo and Jaemin the technique for a trick shot.
He glances over at Mark after letting his arrow fly, then turns slightly toward him as he grabs another from his quiver. “Mark.”
The younger man’s eyes widen a bit at hearing his name called. “What?” he answers full-voiced, which causes Doyoung to give him a glare. Catching onto what’s going on, Mark throws an anxious glance behind them to the guard and to his left to the instructor, but no one pays him any mind.
“The note.”
Mark makes a face as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then quickly tries to relax his expression. “Doyoung, I don’t think…is this really a good idea?”
“I need to see her, Mark,” Doyoung hisses.
Mark’s eyebrows crease. He takes a moment to shoot his arrow at the target, not wanting to come off as suspicious to the others by just standing there. “I’ve never created a portal like…between Donghyuck’s room and mine, back at our castle? Yes, that’s perfectly fine. But from here all the way to the forest? That’s…” The younger man shakes his head, biting his lip.
“You have to try,” Doyoung begs. “Practice it or something. All you need to do is create one to get to my room, and then to the forest. I don’t care if it takes you a while, as long as I can see her again before we have to go back.” He does care, but at this point, he figures it’s better to have something than nothing.
Mark gives Doyoung a long look, shakes his head again, and then nods. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”
Doyoung presses his lips together and nods. His eyes are desperate, though he tries not to be. “It’s okay. Just try, Mark.”
Mark spends the next few days in the library in-between lessons. Though he hasn’t taken much interest in this part of the castle before now, he finds himself pouring through old, dusty books in search of something that can help him find a way to create a long-distance portal.
One of the books he finds describes simply just concentrating all your energy into your hands and putting it forth to open up a rip in space—which he is already capable of, but that doesn’t help him with projecting it out further. Another contains a weird chanting verse that he tries to pronounce, to no avail. Even if it did work, he wouldn’t know how to say it.
However, he eventually happens upon something that catches his eye.
“The Root Chakra serves as the foundation of your body and soul. Only when you are firmly grounded in your current body, space, and time can you begin to manipulate other spaces in time…whether it concerns generating long-range portals through space manipulation or even accessing different moments in history.”
“Opening the Root Chakra, huh?” Mark laughs to himself quietly and shakes his head. Despite being a magic user since birth, along with the rest of his brothers, this is the first time he’s heard anything of the sort. But it’s better later than never to learn.
Perhaps he’s more invested in this scheme than he should be, for both his and his brother’s sakes, but he also knows that he hasn’t seen Doyoung so fulfilled and joyful since discovering the forest. If his efforts can make a bit of difference in Doyoung’s current sunken mood, Mark is willing to try.
Therefore, he sets to work on “opening” this purported Chakra, keeping his practice to late-night hours to ensure he won’t be walked in on by anyone else. He feels a bit awkward at first, maybe even a little foolish, with “meditating” and trying to reach out to some strange energy inside himself. He’s never had to put much thought into creating portals before; it’s just something that happens as he wills it. He never considered that there might be more to the practice—that he’d need to tap into some kind of extra energy to improve his skills. He thinks back to the magic crystals in the marketplace and wonders if they’d be any help in this situation, though there’s no way of finding out.
Mark practices opening portals within the floor, knowing his room is above an empty guest room, as it’s too risky to try any of the walls; Jisung and Jungwoo sleep in the rooms on either side of him. He is soon able to make his portals wider than before—where they used to be the width of only his palms—which allows him to peer more clearly into the empty room below, though he still hasn’t tried to conjure anything farther away than that.
Once he feels he has more control over his energy, Mark soon begins experimenting with visualization, a technique the book cites for conjuring up long-distance locations. Allowing his energy to concentrate in his hands, he places his palms just above the floor of his room and pictures a place he’s fairly familiar with by now—the library. If it goes as planned, he’ll have created a portal to the library; if not…who knows what will be on the other side.
He feels the energy flow through his body, from his core, up his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms…it gathers in his palms and fingertips and triggers a small rip in time, which he gradually coaxes open wider, all the while visualizing the library as clearly as he can. Mark pushes the portal open a bit wider still and opens his eyes slightly to see if it’s worked. He’s dismayed, however, when he still sees the empty guest room sitting below him. A heavy sigh leaves his body, and it pushes the rest of his energy out with it; the portal closes with a silent snap.
Guess he’ll just have to try again.
The next few tries work similarly, and on those nights, he often ends up climbing into bed feeling discouraged and sapped of strength and wondering if he’ll ever get it, or if any of this is worth it. He keeps at it, though, for Doyoung’s benefit. And also partly because he’s curious to see what he’s capable of; now that he’s opened these floodgates, he needs to see how far he can push himself.
The first real hint of success takes him by surprise. It doesn’t happen quite as cleanly or perfectly as the book says, but something happens. When Mark opens his eyes that time, he’s still looking at the guest room—but now there appears to be a faint afterimage of the library merged with it, as if someone had tried to paint two different pictures at once. It’s not a complete location shift by any means, and he doesn’t try to go into the portal—afraid he might somehow get stuck between two realities—but it’s a start.
Improving on that start requires a little more time. More hours of meditating, reading, pushing his energy out and expanding it, visualizing. The afterimage begins growing clearer all the while.
On one blessed night, Mark opens his eyes, and the library itself is sitting below him. Not a faint representation of it, merged with some other room of the castle, but the actual library. He’s so surprised that he almost closes the portal by accident and has to steady his concentration to keep the energy flowing. Carefully, he sticks one hand through it. Then the other. It is still hard to keep the entrance open without physically guiding it with his hands, but he can manage it for a minute or two.
He looks at the long distance beneath him to the floor, with nothing but a lounge sofa to break his landing. Sweat breaks out on his skin, but he takes a moment to steel himself and take a deep breath. Then, he jumps through the portal feet-first, bouncing clumsily onto the sofa and tumbling onto the floor. Just as quick as he can right himself, he hurries behind the sofa to hide, afraid he might’ve alerted one of the guards with his rough landing. The portal has already closed above him with the loss of directed energy.
Mark waits for what feels like forever, his legs burning from holding the crouch, but no one comes. When he’s positive it’s safe, he places his hands on the floor and this time tries to create a portal back to his room. The spacetime-rip flickers briefly as if it won’t work, and a surge of panic rises in him, but soon it displays the sight of his bed and the nightstands on either side. A sigh of relief leaves him, and he jumps through the portal as smoothly as he can, landing on his bed this time.
Now, he is ready. He hopes.
The end of September—and the end of their stay in Eupheme—approaches. By that time, it has been weeks since you and Doyoung have seen each other. The one bright spot, though, lies with Mark.
Mark passes Doyoung a note during another of their etiquette lessons. The older man doesn’t wait to open it, though he keeps a watchful eye on the instructor as he does.
I think I’ve done it. Let’s try tonight.
Doyoung sucks in a breath and slowly lets it back out. Then, he crumbles the piece of paper up and shoves it into the pocket of his pants. He gives Mark a small nod, and Mark returns it before facing the teacher again as if nothing has happened.
Even though Doyoung had already given Mark instructions for how to create the portal, he is a bit unsure what to expect that night. He sits on the edge of his bed fully clothed, his hands clasped nervously together as his eyes dart all around the room, wondering where Mark will show up at.
He soon gets his answer when a teal ring of light manifests itself on the east wall of his room. It remains small only for a few moments before widening out enough to accommodate Mark’s form as he steps through it. Mark himself looks a bit shocked at what he’s just accomplished, even though he’s been doing it for a good amount of time now. Doyoung leaps up from the bed, about to speak, though he winces and remembers they still need to be mindful of the guards outside his door.
“You really did it,” Doyoung whispers, watching in awe as Mark closes the portal to his own room behind him.
“I did,” Mark affirms, and he can’t help but grin a little. However, his smile slips. “There is one thing, though.”
Doyoung’s stomach drops, and he can only imagine what this caveat will be. “What is it?”
“Well, once I’ve created the portal, I’ll have to keep it open,” Mark says. “Otherwise, I won’t know when you’re coming back…since we can’t communicate. But…I’ll only be able to keep energy flowing into it for about 15 minutes, maybe less, so…”
“…so make it quick. Right?” Doyoung replies. He is not surprised. Not because of any lack in Mark’s abilities, but more because this just seems to be the kind of luck that’s afflicted him as of late. Mark nods sheepishly.
“Just…be aware of the time,” Mark says, giving Doyoung an apologetic look. The older man only nods silently and steps back as he lets the younger do his work. Mark walks over to the wall he just came from and places his palms against it, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and concentrating. He holds the image of the forest entrance in his mind’s eye and shifts the power out from his hands and to the wall, opening up a gap in space as the portal widens.
Doyoung’s heart rate picks up as he sees that familiar forest entrance forming in front of him, still crowded with overgrowth and greenery. He steps over to Mark to see it closer, and he can even feel the cool night air brushing past his skin as he peers in.
Mark opens his eyes and nods for Doyoung to go on, and the older gives him a nervous smile. “Thank you.”
Indeed, the forest on the other side is the exact same one he’s been visiting for the entire summer. The same dirt underneath his feet, the same trees crowding each other in. For that reason, he doesn’t waste any more time with rushing inside, heading straight for the oak tree.
There’s an indignant sentence waiting on your lips when you hear Doyoung crashing into your forest late that night, not having seen him in weeks. You’re hurt, but you also realize there must be something serious going on back at the castle if it’s taken him this long to get back to you. However, the words die when you see the pure anguish on his face as he bursts out of the vegetation.
You slip out of the oak tree to meet him on the ground, and he scoops you in his arms like he did all those weeks ago, though this passion is now charged with fear. “Doyoung, what’s happened? What’s the matter? What has kept you so long?” you ask worriedly, taking his face in your hands.
Doyoung holds you close and simply buries his face in the front of your dress for a long moment, breathing in your scent and absorbing the warmth of your skin. Though you are terrified and confused, you wait for him to calm himself enough to speak to you.
“I can’t anymore,” he says, his voice low and broken. Your heart drops at this.
“Can’t what?” you ask, though you already know the answer.
“The King has forbidden me to come here—I shouldn’t be here now, but Mark...Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
You hold Doyoung tighter against you, as if you could both become one being if you concentrated hard enough—wished hard enough. Your head throbs with the hurt of it, and your heart feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. You don’t say anything for a while, biting your lip so hard that it nearly bleeds.
“I tried.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Forgive me. I tried.”
“There’s no one to blame,” you argue, breathless from the vise pinching your heart and lungs. “I think we both knew how this would end…”
“I don’t want it to be this way. Y/N, forgive me. I should’ve never told you anything…perhaps if I’d kept my feelings to myself, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. You could live happily as you were, and I—”
“Don’t. Please don’t. I wouldn’t trade our time together for any living being…not even the gods.” You shake your head as tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Doyoung tries to wipe them away, though tears of his own escape without his permission. “It may be selfish, but…I-I just ask that…p-please don’t forget about me when you leave and start your own family.”
Doyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath and presses your head into his chest. “I could never,” he whispers.
He thinks he’s safe in your arms, and you safe in his. That’s what he’d like to believe, as you sit here together in the forest for the last time. Unbeknownst to him, something in the castle stirs and then bursts to life, violent and red-hot with rage.
Mark, on the other side of the portal, waits. He feels his energy weakening the longer he holds it open, but he does so anyway as nervous sweat gathers on his temples. He wants to call out to Doyoung to somehow warn him of the time limit, but remembers that the guards will hear it if he does. So he remains silent and waits impatiently as the end of the 15 minutes approaches.
However, he can’t wait any longer as the time ticks past. His magic flickers once, as does the portal, before disappearing completely. Mark nearly keels over at the loss of energy and has to catch himself as quietly as possible, bracing his shaking hands against the floor. He pushes himself up a bit and sits on his knees. He thinks desperately to himself, I should make another portal, but he doesn’t have enough energy for that at the moment.
The next move he makes is a costly one.
He reaches into his pants pocket for his pocketwatch, which he remembered to bring with him. He intends to see how far it is past the time they’d agreed Doyoung would come back, and how long it might take him to regain enough strength for another portal, but his shaky hands cause him to drop the small watch. He tries to grab the chain, but the movement is too sudden and clumsy and causes the watch to bounce even farther away from him, skittering clear off the rug and onto the hardwood floor.
Mark swears all his organs stop functioning at once when he hears a knock on the door. It’s quiet at first, and the silence is deafening. He thinks about scurrying up into the bed and lying there to pretend like he’s Doyoung, still asleep and not out in the forest, but his legs are locked with fear and lingering weakness. The second knock is more forceful, and the guard doesn’t wait for much longer before jamming his key in the lock and swinging the door open.
Mark whips his head around, and they both stare at each other dumbstruck for a moment. The guard’s gaze lingers at Mark in confusion, then quickly sweeps over to the empty bed. His eyebrows draw into a furious expression. “Where is the Crown Prince?”
Doyoung’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought of returning to Ceres without you, his brothers going on with their lives as normal despite his own secret heartache—and it’s only then that he realizes he’s lost track of the time. He jerks away from your arms, looking around frantically. “Wait—Mark.”
“Mark?” you repeat, confused.
“I…he made a portal so I could get here, but I was supposed to…shit. Come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and you both rush to the forest entrance. When you get there, though, there’s no portal and no Mark. Doyoung’s grip around your hand tightens.
Though you aren’t totally sure what’s going on, a sudden dread overcomes you. “What happened to it?”
“He probably had to close it, but…I’m sure he’ll open it again once he gets his energy back.” Doyoung’s voice is uncertain, though, like he’s trying to convince you both. You look at the side of his face and try not to voice your fears, but as you both stand there waiting to see if the portal will reappear, it becomes apparent that something has went wrong with the plan.
“Explain yourself.”
“Your Highness…I…um…” Mark’s mouth is too dry for him to properly form words, and his legs shake where he stands. Not because of having his energy sapped—because of the King’s overbearing presence. The King stands in front of him, not even bothering to go to his desk this time, and Mark has to crane his neck a bit to look at him, though he can’t meet his eyes. “It was just…”
“I won’t ask again.”
Mark shakes his head and pulls at his hair, silently begging Doyoung for forgiveness in his mind. Still, he doesn’t say anything to give his brother up, keeping his eyes averted more out of fear than deference. “Please, Your Highness…I just…”
When the King sees that Mark won’t give a direct answer, he scoffs in disgust, sweeps the younger man out of the way, and heads for the door. Though Mark only moves a few inches, he feels like he might as well have been thrown clear across the room. The King speaks to one of Doyoung’s guards, who was standing just behind Mark. “Call the rest of the guards. I’ve exhausted my patience on the matter; these lecherous whores cannot be allowed to continue defiling my kingdom.”
“Wh-what does that mean?” Mark’s small voice is lost to the air as the King leaves the room without a glance backwards. The guard goes to enact his order, while the other one grips Mark tightly by the upper arm and drags him out of the sitting room. “N-no, wait, what’s about to happen?”
The guard yanks Mark’s arm in a gesture that calls for the questioning to come to an end. “Best keep quiet, boy. You and the Crown Prince have gotten yourself into enough shit tonight.” Then he chuckles. “One of these days, he was bound to find out that everyone won’t keep coddling him and wiping his ass. About to lose his title over some pussy. Quite sad, isn’t it?”
The guard’s words—and the realization that none of them have ever really cared about Doyoung’s wellbeing beyond being his hired watchdogs—sets Mark off. “Shut the fuck up!” Mark spits in his eye and stomps on the man’s foot at the same time, and the guard curses and lets him go for a split second. Mark doesn’t wait. He takes off down the hall, unsure where he’s going but knowing the castle is big enough to lose the guard—as long as he doesn’t run into anyone else.
He just needs to get somewhere where he can have enough time to create another portal.
“This can’t be good…” you finally say. You and Doyoung must have a death grip on each other’s hands right now, but neither of you are willing to pull away.
Doyoung shakes his head slowly. “No…it’s been too long. Maybe I-I should go back. Maybe if I go back willingly now…” He trails off, not knowing what could come at the end of that sentence.
“Doyoung, no. I…please don’t leave me.” You feel mentally torn between sending him away and knowing this is the last time you’ll see him versus having him stay here with you, if only for a few minutes more. At this point, you’re not sure what the right answer is anymore.
“They might come looking for me, Y/N, and I don’t want them coming here disturbing the forest—"
“Stay! You can hide somewhere, I…as the keepers of the forest, we’ve been handling ourselves against intruders for years. We can protect ourselves—and you. If they come, you can hide out here until they leave. Please, stay.”
Doyoung cannot say no to you or your pleading eyes. He nods. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after all this—if he wants to go back to the castle, or if he’ll even be allowed to return. He doesn’t know what they’ll do to him in retaliation, and even the vague idea of it frightens him. Having his title removed is one thing, but the King of Eupheme is far more vindictive than that.
You and Doyoung only make it to the small cave you’d hidden in on that rainy day before you hear the distinct sound of another pair of feet crashing through the woods. You both whip your heads around, though you also grab Doyoung’s arm and pull him under the cover of the willow tree. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and you are too frantic to be able to sense who this new person is; though the question is quickly answered by a sharp whisper.
“Doyoung! Doyoung?”
“It’s Mark,” Doyoung hisses, his eyes widening. He slips between the tree branches and softly calls Mark’s name. In another few moments, the younger man is standing under the tree with you both.
“What happened?!” Doyoung asks, holding onto the younger boy’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” This is all Mark can say, and the words roll off his tongue repeatedly. He hangs his head. “The King knows, and he’s sent the guards to come here—I don’t know what he’s going to do, but—please believe me. It doesn’t sound good. He’s done being reasoned with.”
You and Doyoung look at each other with trepidation gripping your chests, realizing the stakes are much higher than you anticipated. This does not sound like just another case of “unwelcome intruders,” but “unwelcome intruders with bloodlust on their minds.”
“But—I can create another portal. I’m sorry, the last time, I just—but I can make one now. Come with us, please.” The last sentence is directed at you, and you shake your head.
“And go where? They’ll still be waiting for me at the castle. Are you suggesting we run away from Eupheme?” Doyoung’s voice is not reprimanding, but more incredulous than anything else.
Mark’s hands shake at the idea of turning his back on his family, which is something he’s never had to consider before—not even in the slightest sense. Things have gotten much more out of hand than he could’ve predicted.
You shake your head again, your hand slipping from Doyoung’s. “Just…I’ll stay here and help the others. You should go.”
“Y/N, I...” Doyoung’s throat tightens as he tries to speak, but his thoughts are disrupted by a quickly mounting commotion. The sound of hooves beating in the distance, though getting increasingly closer. The shouts of men who are ready to wage a battle, with fire racing through their veins.
Though most of Arthenia is asleep at this time of night, the noise of the horses’ hooves and the soldiers’ shouts is enough to begin waking the townspeople up out of their beds. Faces press against windows and peep out of doorways to see what’s happening.
The villagers are terrified when they see a group of soldiers adorned in the royal insignia and riding on horses enter Arthenia with lit torches in their hands, thinking their homes are about to be destroyed. However, they become even more confused and frantic when they quickly realize this band of men is paying their properties no mind and heading straight in the direction of the forest instead.
Some of Arthenia’s magic-wielders rush from their homes to try to put a stop to the men once they understand the situation, and the orcs and ogres meet them with brute force alone. The guards are met with a fight fiercer than they expected, even with their torches and daggers, not realizing the villagers could be so battle-hardy.
The King watches the battle ensuing in Arthenia from a hilly vantage point above the small town. The guards have failed to make much more headway against the villagers, who are gradually inching them back towards the village entrance. Shaking his head in disgust, the King pulls on his horse’s reins. “If you want something done, do it yourself.”
Some of the townspeople notice the King’s appearance just before he rides into the village. A few of them falter and cower in fear, finding the nearest exit point and taking their leave. Some others, incensed at their town being threatened and generally filled with rage at the King’s lack of fair leadership, decide to charge him head-on. They’re quickly extinguished, though, when the King conjures a great sphere of fire in his hands and whips it across them without a second thought.
He does the same to any other Arthenians who attempt to challenge him as he cuts a path through the village, uncaring of the land and homes he sets on fire as he does. A couple of the guards hop back on their steeds and follow him to his ultimate destination.
The King drives forward into the foliage. The women of the forest are armed with their own heavy rocks and sharpened arrows and daggers dipped in poisonous berry juice, though their weapons can barely leave their hands before everything is suddenly being enveloped in a wide swath of fire, meted out by the King’s hand. He leaves a path clear for himself and the guards in the middle, but the trees on either side are sent up in a blaze.
The two guards remain in single file behind him to use his fire as a shield and avoid the sharp rocks and poison-dipped darts zooming past their heads. Perhaps they’ve underestimated these tree-dwellers; already, there have been a few scrapes that were too close for comfort with the jagged edge of a rock or two. The guards light up as much greenery as they can as they go, using their torches to ignite leaves and low-hanging branches.
All around them, there are the sounds of Arthenians and dryads screaming in tandem as their homes go up in flames. A few nymphs lie fallen among the grass, unmoving as their tree homes burn up in the night.
The King, who has had the foresight to bring his shield, keeps it steady in front of him as he blasts fireballs out from behind it, lighting up one group of trees after another. He doesn’t know which one belongs to you, but he is willing to burn down the entire forest to find out. His movements are wilder than they’d normally be, which says a lot even for him, who has previously had no trouble slashing down anyone who stood in his way during battle—even if they were innocents.
“Doyoung!” The King shouts, and he whips up a great blanket of fire. He sends it careening up towards the sky like a shooting star, and it lands high among the tree canopy, heavy and far-reaching enough to burn treetops several feet in every direction. The guards become a bit wary at this, as the flames blaze above their heads and send sparks and burning debris flying down. “Doyoung!” His voice shakes the leaves like thunder. “If you do not wish to burn alive with these forest dregs, show yourself now!”
Doyoung’s spine stiffens as he hears his name echoing through the woods. It comes from a distance behind you all but is still too close for reassurance. If you stay in this spot for another few minutes, the King or one of his guards could be right on top of your heads.
“Come on!” Doyoung pulls your hand tightly as he helps you up the edge of a steep grassy incline, Mark supporting you from below. Though you’d be able to make it up there any other time by yourself, you don’t dare deny the help now. Your whole body feels like a live wire of fear and panic; the forest burns around you, and the encroaching smoke threatens to choke all three of you to death. Most of all, you feel devastated to see what’s happening around you, being essentially powerless to stop it. Nothing of this degree has ever befallen your home before; even the rare small blaze could be easily enough snuffed out. But not when the flames are being stoked and encouraged like this—building upon each other to see which can reach the tallest tree or the farthest edge of the forest.
After you reach solid ground, Doyoung drags Mark up behind you. There’s no time to pause after all three of you are on the ground; Doyoung grips your hand again and Mark follows behind the two of you as you run.
“The tree, the tree, the tree…” These words spill from your lips in a frenzy. Though your tree hasn’t been touched by the flames yet, it’s only a matter of time with the forest rapidly catching on fire. You can still feel the deep anguish of every other tree in the forest as their trunks catch fire, their leaves shrivel up, and the water evaporates from their root systems. Their silent screams and the shouts of your fellow dryads ring in your head loud enough to make you fear that your skull will split.
“Where are we going?” Mark asks, covering his nose with his sleeve and coughing profusely at the smoke all around.
“Out of the forest!” Doyoung shouts back. He doesn’t really know where to go except for the edge of the woods, and you aren’t in a state to tell him where to head. Deep down, he knows you want to turn back and go to your tree. The oak tree lives innately in you and you inside of it, and it calls you to come back, but the path is too dangerous; returning to it would only speed up what appears to be progressively inevitable. The King and his guards are somewhere in the forest behind you all, and turning back would only land you right in their hands or in the tendrils of the fire.
One of the guards feels a tinge of nervousness grow as the fire rages on around them, and he decides to try to reach out to the King. “Your Highness! I will go in search of Doyoung. Perhaps we should fetch him now before some danger befalls him; the fire is spreading exponentially.” The King gives him a signal to depart, though his eyes still burn just as brightly as the flames do.
The guard separates from the King to cut a path diagonally through the woods, going off to find Doyoung. The Crown Prince may have disobeyed the King—which is as good as committing treason against the kingdom—but it would still not look favorable for him to have died in a fire started at the King’s hands. However, the King is too far engulfed in the whirlwind of his own rage to consider these things more deeply.
The other guard stays by the King’s side, though his horse nervously shifts in place at the flames all around. The two men come to a stop in a wide and messy half-circle of fire, their backs to the flames as they watch the woods ahead for any signs of approaching creatures—or Doyoung himself.
Unbeknownst to the King, your oak tree sits only a few feet away in a yet-untouched portion of greenery.
A few leaves suddenly fall off a tree up ahead—too sudden to merely be caused by the wind—and this makes the King whip his head around and raise his hand to unleash more fire. Nothing appears from that spot, however, and the leaves remain as still as they were before. That moment of hesitancy costs him.
A small poison-tipped dart shoots from the leaves, catapulted by the force of a sudden, expertly-timed breath through a wooden blowgun. It lands squarely in the King’s open palm, which still faces the tree. A shout bursts from his throat in response, and it is only then that the guard realizes what’s just happened.
“Your Highness—!”
The shock and pain of the sudden assault causes the King to strike out in delayed anger, sending a wave of fire at the row of trees ahead of him—and a little further beyond, your oak tree in its small, grassy clearing. The dart burns up in his palm as he does, but its sharp point has already broken his skin. His reaction, though hampered by a few seconds, doesn’t afford Cassia much time to do anything but watch as a wall of feverish red and orange overtakes her, but her last few thoughts linger with you—where you might be within the forest right now, and if she could see you again in some faraway afterlife.
You’ve always known you would die when your tree finally did, but you weren’t sure what you expected it to feel like.
Certainly, not this kind of great reckoning—a sensation of every living element simultaneously being drained from your body. It feels like the core essence of your being has been cracked like an egg and is now flowing out endlessly, laid to waste in the grass. The sudden weakness that eclipses you makes it so that you can barely move your legs to continue running, and you collapse to the ground.
Mark nearly trips over your fallen form, but he quickly finds his voice and screams for Doyoung. The older man is already turning around, however, at feeling your hand slip from his. He rushes to you immediately, his eyes growing wide as he tucks his hands under you and scoops you into his arms.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, please! Y/N, please, no!”
“Doyoung…”
“No. No! I’m begging...please, stay with me.”
Tears spill from his eyes in an endless torrent. You would like to touch his face at least once more, and you are infinitely glad—if not also heartbroken—when he grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek. His tears wet your skin, running down your palm.
“I…I already told you not to forget me, so please…”
“Y/N, I’ve got to get you out of here…” Doyoung says desperately, and he struggles to make it to his feet. His legs tremble too much to support him, though, and his shoes slide in the leaves and dirt underfoot. Mark stumbles backwards, his back hitting a tree trunk as his muscles tense in horror at the scene in front of him.
“D-don’t. Leave me here.” Even saying this much feels like a massive effort.
“What?”
“Th-the forest and I are one in the same. I live and die here. Please…do this one thing for me, Doyoung.” You look at him imploringly with as much strength as you can summon despite your eyes growing heavier. Beyond the smoke, the cloudiness of your own tears, and the pull of death, it’s becoming harder to see; his features blur amid your surroundings.
Doyoung is quiet for a moment, though he slowly nods, gripping your hand tightly. He lowers his forehead to yours, and through the smoke and fire, he swears he can still smell the scent of jasmine. “I love you, Y/N.”
“My prince…” The corners of your mouth rise in a tiny smile. “I love you.”
The Crown Prince keeps his forehead against yours, his tears raining down on your cheeks long after you’ve gone limp in his arms.
Mark slumps to the ground, feeling as if his stomach will turn itself inside out, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to breathe evenly, though his chest tightens painfully from the attempt. Eventually, he buries his face in his hands, trying to physically shut out the ache. He’s not sure how much time passes like that, with him and his brother immobilized on the ground, but he does know they need to leave, soon, as the air around them grows more stifling.
“Doyoung…D-Doyoung, we need to…w-we should…” Mark’s voice cracks, coming out weak in the roar of the noise around them. He coughs again, then shuffles to his feet, leaning on the tree for support.
Doyoung looks up at him without a word, his face streaked with tears and dirt. Then, slowly, he unravels himself from you and lays your body gently on the ground. He shuns his cloak to cover you with it, though part of him desires to stay here and perish with you instead of leaving only a portion of himself behind.
Him and Mark travel a few more yards through the woods, and though he’s never seen this part of the landscape before, he can guess they might be nearing the edge of the forest. The trees have begun thinning out here like they did at the small circular lake.
“Wait—" Mark calls out. Doyoung doesn’t bother looking back at Mark, but he can hear it too. The sound of horse hooves increases in volume, and they soon see one of the guards riding towards them, torch still in hand.
“Crown Prince! Prince Mark!” he shouts. “Come with me immediately!”
Doyoung looks frantically towards the ground. A sizeable rock catches his eye, bigger than the palm of his hand, and he picks it up. Without a second thought, he launches it at the guard’s face. It catches the guard on the left side of his face with a sickening pop, causing him to yell out in pain and fall from his horse. His torch falls from his grasp, starting yet another small fire where it lands.
With its rider gone, the horse slows its pace, though it does not stop. Doyoung catches it by the reins and is able to bring it to a pause long enough for him and Mark to get on. Everything else falls away from him as he guides them towards the forest’s outskirts; he barely feels the wind whipping past them, the lingering smoke stinging his eyes, or even the sturdy animal racing underneath him. He has a brief thought about what happened to those dangerous animals you said live on the outskirts, as there are none here now, but he reasons that maybe they’ve already made their own escape.
The sky is turning lighter now from the approaching dawn. When they finally breach the last row of trees in the woods, they come out onto an expansive field, only broken up by stray trees here and there and other landforms. On the far horizon, another town looms against the sky, though it’s much bigger than Arthenia.
Doyoung signals for the horse to stop, and both he and Mark sit there for a few long moments. Mark sucks in a few deep breaths, as if he were the one running this entire time.
“W-what…what now?”
Doyoung doesn’t answer at first. Then, quietly, he asks, “Are you coming?”
Mark doesn’t know where his brother intends to go, but he wordlessly understands that it isn’t back to the castle. Or even Ceres. He swallows against the lump in his throat.
“I…I have to see the others.” He means their brothers. He means their parents back in Ceres, if he is even allowed to live. He is not sure what the King will do to him once he returns—if he’ll be tried for treason. Still, his chest burns with the desire to see his siblings at least once more.
Maybe that’s how he justifies it.
He’s not entirely sure why he refuses Doyoung in this moment, even when he thinks back on it years from now. Maybe he is too ashamed of the guilt—of feeling like it was all his fault. (If he hadn’t dropped the stopwatch…) He doesn’t want to serve as that constant reminder for his brother.
“Can you get back, then?” Doyoung asks. Mark realizes he’s referring to creating another portal, and he nods, though somewhat hesitantly.
“Y…yeah. I can.” He swallows again and hesitates for another moment. Then, Mark dismounts from the horse and looks up at Doyoung. “Where…where will you go?”
If the older man has already planned his route, he doesn’t disclose it. He simply looks at Mark with an expression that can only be described as pitiable, broken. His eyes are red-rimmed and his skin is ashen. “Goodbye, Mark.”
Mark stares at his retreating back as he leads the horse away and across the field. The space between them stretches out into forever, with a million unsaid thoughts and emotions falling in the gap.
Behind him, the forest continues to burn, taking all life with it. In front of him, Doyoung’s form turns into a speck against the endless green. It is a long time before Mark leaves that spot in the grass.
In the castle, Donghyuck slumps against his window as he watches smoke rising in the far distance, already knowing where it’s coming from. Like a mirror image of his older brother, tear tracks make their way down his face as he buries his head in his arms.
“What have I done?”
#doyoung fic#doyoung scenarios#doyoung imagines#doyoung smut#doyoung fluff#doyoung angst#kim doyoung#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct fic#nct imagines#nct smut#nct fluff#nct angst#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fic#ambw#ambw fic#ambw kpop#ambw scenarios#ambw imagines
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Dating Grell HC!
Hi! SO sorry for taking this long, irl stuff got in my way but I’m finally here! Agreed, finding Grell content is kind of difficult, and though they aren’t my favorite character, I do enjoy their personality. Before we start, I would like to clarify that I wrote this with gender neutral pronouns for Grell since I’m kind of confused: in the manga and anime sometimes, characters will refer to them with: He/Him pronouns, they refer to themselves with: She/her but their wiki refers to them with they/them pronouns; so, if someone could clarify that for me (and provide a link that confirms is cannon) I would be beyond grateful!
Word count: 1220
Keys: Y/n = Your name.
Summary: Grell starts to feel in a way they have never felt before.
Warnings/Additional notes: none…I think(? But I tried to keep it neutral for the reader too, since pronouns weren’t specified.
Grell being a reaper they have little to no time on their hands, so most probably they met you at work.
They were the one to approach you first by practically throwing themselves at you going on a ramble about how GORGEOUS you are.
I think that at the beginning their feelings are more like a simple crush that will fade away with time or mindless lust that is set to disappear the moment they get to have sex with you.
So, until that happens you will have to deal with practically a cat, they get all touchy: rubbing their cheek against yours, hugging you enthusiastically (like how a child would hug a stuffed toy) begging for attention constantly and even directing not so subtle innuendos at you.
But overall Grell is someone fun and pleasing to be around (especially if you are feeling a bit down) their bubbly and dramatic personality is just so contagious you can’t help but smile!
So that’s why you don’t push them away as harshly as Sebastian or William would
And I feel like that’s why they get a little bit more interested in you.
Even though they identify themselves as a masochist, that does not mean they enjoy being treated poorly all the time, they know their personality is…hard to cope with, but Grell appreciate when someone would still make the effort to get along.
So, when you don’t just…you know…kick them in the face every time they approach you (cofcofSeb&Willcofcof) they feel more comfortable being themselves around you, since no matter how eccentric they might be, you always continue the conversation in a kind manner.
Grell is someone who’s VERY emotionally driven, to the point I think it must be hard for them to differentiate certain emotions like: anger to frustration, sadness with deception and romantic love to lustful attraction. I feel like for them there’s no grey area, is either love or hate so in the beginning this might cause your relationship a bit of trouble.
As your relationship grew closer you started to notice a change in Grell’s behavior: They started being a bit more serious (still as theatrical as ever but different none the less)
They suddenly seemed to have become aware of what personal space is supposed to mean, the hugs became relatively short, the innuendos stopped almost completely and when the two of you started talking, Grell was eerily quiet.
This probably would make you feel like you might have angered them in some way, but don’t worry…the truth is..Grell is just confused.
Lust driven love is all they’re ever known, but their feelings for you have changed, evolved if you may. The only thing they know: is that they like you, but not in the way they like Will, Sebastian or Undertaker, no. They like you in a different way…a deeper way.
So please be patient and let them figure it out on their own.
BUT tbh I don’t think they figured out on their own…I just think they where in the phantomhive manor one day (just to tease Sebastian or double-check these newfound feelings were indeed different) But Ciel just felt so uneasy since he had never seen Grell so quiet and deep in thought.
—What is wrong with you, Grell?—His words condescending as ever.
—Pay no mind to them, master. The reaper is just hopelessly in love—Said Sebastian with a smirk creeping on his lips.
Sebastian’s words were almost eye-opening to them. “Love? Was it truly the right word to describe this feeling?”
Yes, yes it was, they knew the moment they went back to you that day.
Saying that you were surprised when Grell suddenly appeared at your house, late at night, pinning you to the floor by giving you the BIGGEST hug in your life, after weeks of not seeing each other since apparently, they were ignoring you, was a severe understatement.
—What has gotten into you, Grell?— you questioned, caressing their long red hair.
—Oh! Y/N my love! I love you!—You smiled, Grell had finally come back to you.
—Ha Ha Ha, I love you too, Grell!—Grell froze in place.
You thought they were messing around with you like countless time before, so you just responded in the usual joking manner.
—No, no, no! You’ve got it all wrong my dear!—For the first time since you had known them, their expression turned serious and gently took your hands in theirs.
—Y/n you are probably the only person I have ever felt this strongly, I feel like if you were to die today, I will die with you! Y/n my dear…I love you! This are my true feelings…Won’t you accept them?
Such sweet words, spoken with the most profound sincerity.
You couldn’t help but tear up a little (Which made Grell panic a bit)
—Yes, Grell, I love you too, so please accept this feelings of mine as well.—The hugh that followed was not only an acceptance but the seal of a promise, the true love kind of promise.
From here onwards you can see a change in Grell’s behavior towards you (in a positive way that is)
Dating Grell means you get to see them in a whole new light.
They are much more sincere (still dramatic as ever but a bit toned down)
They allow themselves to be vulnerable with you, no longer hiding their worries under a carefree and almost indifferent facade.
You become a safe place they can come to when things get difficult or simply when they just feel tired and overwhelmed with their reaper duties.
Something that stays pretty much the same in your relationship is how much attention-seeking they are.
You have to put on hold whatever you’re doing ‘cause those things can wait but Grell don’t.
“Nee~ honey, pay attention to me!” is a phrase you might hear often if you even dare to pay attention to something else when they are right beside you!
Grell will 100% shower you in kisses constantly.
Cuddles! Cuddles are a MUST with them.
Be prepared for Lots LOTS of PDA, they don’t care if it’s not the appropriate time or place, they need to show you how much you mean to them now!
I feel like they are the type to pull you closer and start dancing or reciting a dramatic dialogue of some romantic play they recently saw, out of nowhere in the middle of the street.
Grell also loves when you touch, caress, braid or brush their hair, is just so adorable! (If you want to turn them on, just pull their hair a little and see what happens ;)
If you have long hair, they will do the same but if you don’t expect them to go wild with how much flower crowns, hats, hair pins, etc they gift you.
Matching outfits! They even gifted you a red coat like theirs!
Grell loves when you let them do your make up! (if you wear any that is, otherwise they would allow you to do theirs) and it goes without saying, they are so good at it! you always end up feeling like royalty.
Theatrical pet names!
Sometimes they would allow you to borrow their Death Scythe (even if is for ridiculous things like idk cutting bread lol) but shhh, don’t tell Will!
Theater Dates!
Kisses, TONS of kisses (they love when you bite their lips, if you do; you might even hear them moan)
Overall, Grell is just so happy to have someone like you in their life and they will demonstrate it to you every chance they get.
♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤
If you spot any misplaced pronouns, please let me know! I will correct it asap! just know that I didn’t do it with any ill intention and that english is not my first language and perhaps that’s why something might have slipped! as well grammatical errors, I’m trying to polish my writing in this language so calling me out on any mistakes helps me a lot!
I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would like her as much as I do!
Anyway! Thank you for reading!
#grell sutcliff#grell sutcliff x reader#black butler#black butler fanfiction#black butler grell#kuroshitsuji#black butler edit#sebastian michaelis#ciel phantomhive#black butler fandom
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Falling For You
I am participating in @wackydrabbles Prompt # 94 courtesy of @rookie-ramsey “I’m giving you one last chance.” which will appear in bold.
This is also chapter 4 of The Meet: To catch up on what you’ve been missing, please click: The Meet
The Book: TRR
Pairing: Liam x Jilian (Liam x F!OC) / Leo x Bebe? (Leo x F!OC)
Warnings: profanity, I think. Fluff. I really think Drama Whore is locked in a basement somewhere.
Leo, Liam and Maddy belong to pixelberry. Jilian belongs to my friend @queenjilian , and all others are my own characters to help support our story.
Summary: Jilian and Liam celebrate their six month anniversary. Leo shows up to Bebe’s apartment unannounced.
A/N: This took a different turn than originally anticipated. Thank you @dcbbw for giving me an idea to rework a section, and @queenjilian as I feel we talk about this series daily.
This keeps taking a turn on me guys. I’m sorry I don’t outline. But I guess that is part of the magic here too.
Word Count: 1496
ORIGINAL POST DATE: 05/11/21 at 12:15PM EST.
He couldn't help but stare. She was so beautiful, even while she was sleeping.
"Liam, don't be creepy."
Jilian opened her eyes looking at him.
Liam’s mannerisms turned incredibly bashful.
"I can't help it. You're a vision. I am completely enamored by you, Jilian Winchester. Happy six month anniversary. I have something for you.”
Jili gasped. Her work schedule the past few weeks had been so hectic she had totally forgotten the date. That night was the first time in several weeks they had actually been able to see each other.
Jili was panicked.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t realize the date.. Work has been so crazy. I know that’s not an excuse.”
He held out his gift for her. She felt guilty.
“I don’t have anything for you Liam. I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the reason you give a gift to someone Jili."
He pulled the small perfectly wrapped jewelry sized box out of the dresser.
Jili sat up in bed, the covers drifting a bit revealing bare skin, to which Liam's eyes quickly fell upon.
"Jili, your body is present enough for me. You are absolute perfection."
She opened the box. Inside was an adorable charm bracelet.
The charms on the bracelet were all medical inspired. There was a medical bag, a stethoscope, a little ambulance, and she took particular time with the caduceus.
“This is a beautiful gift.”
“I see you’re staring at the Caduceus. Did you know….”
“It’s Greek. The symbol goes back to Greco-Egyptian mythology.”
Liam’s eyes flashed in interest.
“Greece has always been on my bucket list, Liam. I’m going to make it to Santorini someday. What I’ve seen of it in movies and in books, I have to see that in real life.”
“And you will. Maybe I’ll make it there with you.”
“Maybe. Thank you for the beautiful gift.”
“Anytime love.”
His lips met hers again in a sultry kiss. Jili melted in his arms, falling back into the pillows.
She could be late for work once.
Liam at dinner that night couldn’t be more sweet and romantic. The flowers, the music and the dancing. He just made her feel like she was the only woman in the world when he looked at her the way he was at that moment.
“How do you do it Liam?”
“Do what?” He questioned her.
“Make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world?”
“That’s easy Jili. You are.”
Liam paid for the check and Jili booked the rideshare back to her place. While Liam was in the restroom she got a text from the driver saying they had arrived.
“Shit!” Jili ran out of the restaurant, texting Liam “Silver Honda accord “
She jumped into the honda.
“I’m sorry! My boyfriend will be out in a second.”
“Jaiden Brooks?”
“No.”
Jili glanced at her phone.
“I was sure it said silver honda accord.”
“It is.. But there’s also one behind us.”
“And you’re not Chloe.”
The man chuckled. “I’ve been called a lot of names in my life, Chloe is not one of them.”
Jili jumped out of the vehicle barreling head first into a guy.
“Whoa, moonlighting as an offensive lineman?”
“It’s how I went pro.” Jili flexed her muscles.
He laughed, his soft brown eyes twinkled.
“You take it easy now.”
“Likewise.”
She smiled as she walked to the second Silver Honda Accord.
Still in earshot she heard a woman come up next to him.
“Are you serious Jai?”
“What?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“You’re flirting and looking at some random chick right in front of me?”
Jaiden looked exasperated. “Carmen, I wasn’t looking at her!!!!! She ran into me, I was polite to her, that’s all.”
“You would say that now that you’ve been caught.”
She pointed her manicured finger at him.
“I’m giving you one last chance.”
“I WASN’T LOOKING AT HER!!!! Carmen, you're my girlfriend!!!!”
They climbed into the car, and Jili was sure their argument was far from over.
Liam joined her a few moments later, pulling her into his arms.
“I’m glad we have such a healthy relationship.”
“What brought this on?”
“I just saw this couple. I ran into the guy by accident. The girl immediately accused him of cheating.”
“Well…. Maybe he gave her a reason to, in their past.”
“He really didn’t seem like the type. He cracked a corny joke. Seemed really kind.”
“We’ll never know Jili.”
Author’s note: Ohhhh But we will. We’ll know all about Jaiden Brooks at a later date…
Bebe was out in the bar with Leo. Something they did from time to time. They have been a wing man/woman for each other several times now. That night she had been a wing woman for him. He was chatting up a cute blonde. Things looked to be going well for him. He gave Bebe a wink.
She gave him a thumbs up, studying the two continuing to flirt. The girl was cute and petite, and appeared to be hanging on Leo’s every word. He seemed interested, and they looked cute together.
Her stomach grumbled. Was it the foreshadowing of her monthly monster coming to wreak havoc on her life for the better part of the week rearing its ugly head early?
Bebe winced at the pair. Tears filled her eyes.
What was that feeling? She didn’t like it. Had to be the cramps. She shrugged it off.
Her work was done for the night. Leo had settled her tab, and would be leaving shortly with Ms. Blondie.
Bebe headed for home herself, the weird feeling still tugging at her heart, her stomach still feeling a mess.
She didn’t hear from Leo for a few days.
Until he texted her late that afternoon.
‘Sup Girl?’
‘Nothin’ much.’
‘Can I come over?’
‘Not in the mood.’
‘I didn’t ask for that. You know we have emojis for that.’
She laughed.
‘Not tonight Leo.’
Thirty minutes later there was a knock on her door. Bebe dragged herself off the couch.
Leo had two bags of goodies.
“I got you your favorite. Mint chocolate chip, some chocolate syrup, and your white chocolate kit kats you love, and there’s a meat lovers pizza on the way, and I got root beer and Funjuns.”
“Leo?”
“How did I know? As much as I’m around, I kind of know when you go M.I.A, and why. So can I come in?”
Bebe glanced down at herself. She was in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a Hartfeld Heels tee shirt.
“You look fine, now let me in! This ice cream is going to melt.”
It was the first time Leo had been over to her place, not for sex.
“So what are we watching?”
“The Time Traveler’s Wife.”
“Ahhh chick flicks. Bring it on. I’m going to put this in the freezer unless you want it now?”
Bebe took the mint chocolate chip ice cream, and syrup away from him.
“We’re doing dessert first, I can dig it. So am I.”
Leo liked butter pecan and had brought himself a carton as well. He put the rest of the items on the table until the pizza arrived.
“I’m getting comfortable then alright?”
“That’s fine.” Bebe shouted when he walked into her bedroom.
Leo came back after a minute in her pink leopard print robe.
She shook her head at Leo.
“What?!?!?! I see why you bought it. I like the way it feels on my skin.”
Leo was truly something else.
“That’s probably the pizza.” He went to the door in the robe zero fucks given. Bebe roared in laughter. Leo just didn’t give a damn about anything.
Bebe found herself fishing for details. “So I thought you’d be hanging out with Miss blondie.”
“Meh. Maddy was alright. But she really didn’t have much of a personality. I won’t be seeing her again. Why were you jealous?”
Bebe shrugged it off in a nonchalant way. “No. Not at all.”
“Trying to keep Mr. not all of him is fun sized for your own personal enjoyment?”
She hit him laughing. She nudged his shoulder.
“Thanks for coming over and hanging out with me.”
He nudged her back. “Anytime.”
He put his arm around Bebe and both focused on the movie. Later she relaxed to resting her head in his lap. He softly played in her hair.
She heard Leo sniffling towards the end of the movie.
She glanced up at him.
“Leo, are you crying?”
“No.” He quickly wiped his eyes.
"The tin man really does have a heart."
"It's a sad story okay. Why couldn't they just live happily ever after?"
"That's not the way life is."
"It should be. You should be able to be with the one you want. That wants you."
She sat up looking at Leo.
Bebe giggled. "When did you become such a hopeless romantic?"
Leo softly stroked her cheek.
Bebe stopped giggling abruptly as she gazed into his eyes.
There was so much fire and passion in Leo’s eyes, that Bebe gasped.
Leo’s signature smirk crossed his face, as he leaned in and claimed Bebe’s lips that were in a seductive pucker for his own.
Tags in the comments!
#bebepac writes#short leo#the meet#before the greek meat#trr au#trr fanfic#trr fandom#no royals#trr liam#trr leo#trr jilian#trr bebe#trr madeleine#wacky drabbles#choices fic writers creations
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Cheating - Isaiah Jesus
a/n: even though michael x reader is talked about in this, it’s fully isaiah x reader :) an apology to the anon that pointed out my flaw yesterday, i truly am sorry for making it seem like i was trying to alienate readers. and thank you for being so nice about it. i want my stories to be for everyone, so here’s something that fits that :) ❤️
warnings: talks of/leading up to sex (no full on smut)
Tommy’s wedding was in full swing, the music loud and joyous, everyone drinking, smoking, dancing, just having a good time. Besides you. You were miserable. You had only met Michael’s family a couple times before tonight, so you weren’t super close with them.
“Having fun?” A voice speaks up from beside you at the bar. You were trying not to drink much because you didn’t want to deal with not knowing where you are or who you’re around, but you needed it to help ease your nerves.
Turning your head, you find Isaiah in the seat next to you, a smile on his face as he downs his glass.
“Not really,” you mumble, facing forward, swirling your drink in your glass.
“Why’s that? Weddings are supposed to be fun!” He shoves your shoulder lightly. You chuckle a little and shake your head.
“I barely know anyone besides you, Polly, and Michael. Polly is chatting with her nieces and nephews, and I have no idea where Michael’s at.”
“Why don’t you go look for him? I’m sure he’s outside in the alley, smoking, talking business with someone.”
“I guess. I figured that he knows people so he’s better off without me.”
“Don’t say that. You’re a great girl to be around.” You glance back at Isaiah, seeing a nice, comforting grin on his face.
“Thank you, Is.” Tilting your head back, you finish your drink and slam your glass on the bar.
“I’m gonna go look for Michael.”
“I’ll be around, love.” You stand and head towards a random hallway leading farther away from the boisterous party. You wander around for a little bit, looking in random storage rooms, until one particular room catches your eye.
Michael was feverishly pounding into some woman as he held her against the wall, both of their moans ringing out, her eyes closed and head thrown against the wall. Your jaw drops as soon as you realize that it’s Michael, the familiar moans filling your ears.
You are quick to run away, tears clouding your vision. You somehow made your way back to the party, heading straight for the bar.
Demanding a drink, you attempt to wipe your tears away and clear your mind, but nothing’s working. After many more drinks, you were even more emotional.
“Hey, hey hey!” Isaiah comes up behind you, noticing your swaying figure. “Slow down! You’ve barely drank anything all night, you’re gonna make yourself sick if you go all at once.”
“I don’t fucking care,” you grumble, pushing his hands away.
“What’s wrong? You were fine like fifteen minutes ago.” His hand rubbed your back softly as you looked up at him. He wipes your tears away with his thumb. He glances around before grabbing your hand and dragging you away. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks as he finds an empty sitting room. There were gas lights illuminating the room, and the fireplace was burning, letting you know people have been in here.
“What the hell happened in those ten minutes you left to find Michael?” He asks, sitting you down in the chair and kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. Through sobs, you try to tell Isaiah what you saw.
“Michael, he-he-”
“Hey, it’s alright. Shh, take your time, yeah?” You nod and take a couple deep breaths. One of Isaiah’s hands reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping your tears again as well.
“He cheated,” you whisper. Isaiah’s eyes suddenly turn dark. He was very protective of you, not exactly seeing you as a sister, but he’s liked you for quite some time. He hates that Michael had you and decided to throw all of that away with one decision. “I found him fucking some girl in a storage room.”
“Where the hell is he?!” He snaps, standing and pacing the room in an angry manner.
“Isaiah, don’t.”
“Why? He deserves to have his face smashed in for doing this to you!”
“Don’t! I’m going to confront him about it and I don’t need you getting in the way.”
“(Y/N), he fucking cheated on you and you want to be civil about this!?”
“Yes!”
“Well, that’s not how the Peaky Blinders settle things. I’m going to find him.”
“Isaiah, please! Just stay here for now,” you beg, your voice cracking. This makes him pause and kneel back down in front of you. He softly strokes the backs of your hands, his eyes burning into you. He hated seeing you like this because of his friend, a friend who promised to never hurt you.
“How are you going to tell him?” He asks. You shrug in response, wracking your brain for ways to break it to your boyfriend that you saw him fucking some random girl.
“I don’t know. I think just telling him straight is the best way, break things off right then and there.”
Isaiah had an idea, but he felt it was slightly going to be taking advantage of you during a vulnerable time. But he suggests it anyways.
“I could fuck you to get back at him,” he cheekily says. You giggle and glance up at him, his beautiful smile lighting up his face in the dim atmosphere.
“I mean, sounds appealing, but I need to break things off first.”
“Why? He obviously doesn’t care for your relationship as much.” Your head tilts in a teasing way, your eyebrows raising in question.
“Do you wanna fuck me that bad?” You were joking, at first. But when you notice Isaiah’s eyes darken and his smile drop, a serious look crossing his face, you don't know how to feel.
“Yeah,” he bites his lip, his voice low. The tension between the two of you slowly raised more and more as you stared at one another. All you could think about right now was Isaiah, and not Michael. You felt nothing towards your ex boyfriend anymore.
“Fuck him,” you whisper, raising from your seat and falling into his arms. He thankfully catches you and pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss.
“Let’s find a room, yeah? You deserve better than a sitting room or storage closet.” Giggling, you follow him out of the room, running down the halls and searching for an empty room. This place was huge, there was bound to be something, right?
Finally, after lots of giggles and testing doors, you find an empty bedroom and quickly file inside, locking it and heading over to the bed. Isaiah pushes you down playfully and crawls on top of you.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your neck, biting down and sucking at some spots. Soft moans spill from your lips at the feeling, Isaiah chuckling against your skin.
“Your lips feel so much better than Michael’s,” you groan, leaning up into his touch.
“Good to know. I’m gonna make you feel so much better than he could.”
“How?” You push. He leans back and smirks, ridding of his shirt, giving you a full view of his body.
“I’ll fuck you so much deeper and harder than him,” he draws out, kissing down your body and removing your own clothes as he goes. “He doesn’t know how to please a woman.”
“Show me then.” His eyes darken even more as he spreads your legs and leans down, keeping his eyes on you as he does.
—
Isaiah flops beside you, catching his breath and closing his eyes in bliss. You had a smile on your face as you do the same, but you stare at him, admiring him. For so long, you’ve secretly imagined sleeping with Isaiah, his smirk captivating you every time you were with him. You obviously never acted on anything, but now that you have, you didn’t want anyone else. Not even Michael.
“That was the best,” he murmurs, turning his head to the side to catch your gaze. Your head nods and you roll over onto your side to curl into his body.
“Thank you for showing me what it’s like to be taken by a real man,” you say. Your hands run over his bare chest, feeling his muscles underneath your fingertips and the marks you left on him.
“I’ll show you anytime, love. I want to be with you.” For some reason, you had only expected Isaiah to just want to fuck you. You didn’t expect him to actually want more, though you weren’t against it, you just didn’t think he was one to settle down.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I have wanted to fuck you for a while, but that’s because I find you so beautiful, so adorable, so kind, so sweet. Michael doesn’t deserve you if he’s willing to throw that away for some other girl.” A small smile tugs at your lips and you lean up to kiss him sweetly.
“Even though you didn’t formally ask, yes, I will be yours,” you tell him, prompting his own smile to appear on his face.
“Fuckin’ finally!” He celebrates. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words.”
“I’m glad that I found a guy who will care for me better than him.”
“Guaranteed I will.” After a few more minutes of cuddling, you sit up and begin getting dressed.
“We should head back down.” Isaiah’s hands wrap around your waist and pull you back down onto the bed.
“Or we could fuck once more because I honestly can’t get enough of you,” he whispers into your neck. As much as you want to go back to the party and face Michael, Isaiah’s voice, the feel of his lips, and his touch persuaded you back under the sheets for another round.
You and Isaiah, now fully dressed and slightly more put together, return to the loud party, staying close to one another. He whispers something in your ear, making you giggle.
“There they are! Where’d you two run off to?” Arthur shouts as you come to stand in front of the Shelby family, including Michael.
“They were fucking!” John shouts happily. Everyone cheers and shouts except for Polly and Michael, making both of you smile and flush at the true accusation.
“(Y/N)? Why would you cheat on Michael?!” Polly shouts angrily. You stare at her, dead in the eyes and respond.
“Ask your son that first. I found him fucking some random woman in a storage closet earlier. Things were over with him the second I saw him. So technically, I didn’t cheat. And if I did, I didn’t do it first.” Isaiah cheers and grabs your waist in a hug, kissing your neck from behind.
“Michael? Is that true?” Everyone’s eyes land on him as Polly questions her son. He has nothing to say, since it’s very true. His mouth opens and closes as he tries for an answer, but he still has nothing.
“Is it true, Michael?” Tommy asks this time. He stares down in shame and nods, making everyone gasp and sigh, their eyes darting towards you for a reaction. You had no reaction, though, you were much happier now that you were with Isaiah.
“I apologize for the actions of my son, (Y/N),” Polly offers her apology, rubbing your arm before giving her son another death glare.
“It’s quite alright, Pol. I’m glad I found out before things got too serious into marriage and stuff. But Isaiah makes me happy now.” She smiles at both of you, wishing you the best before pushing Michael away from the group, Tommy following them.
“So you two are fucking now?” Arthur confirms. You and Isaiah share a look before he responds.
“Yeah, kind of. But I love her quite a lot, so it was just pent up frustration of wanting her to be mine and not being able to express it because of that fucking wanker.” They all laugh and congratulate you both before walking away to chat with others.
“You know, now that we’ve told everyone, we can go back upstairs and spend the rest of the night together,” Isaiah offers, tugging you by the waist back towards where you came from. You pretend to think for a moment.
“Hm. Stay down here, surrounded by people I don’t know and possibly run into Michael and Polly, or go upstairs and fool around with my new boyfriend?” You tap your finger on your chin as Isaiah rolls his eyes and pulls you a bit harder, making you giggle and follow him up to the room, eager to spend more time with him.
“Don’t be cheeky.”
#isaiah jesus#isaiah jesus imagine#isaiah jesus imagines#isaiah jesus x reader#michael gray#jordan bolger#peaky blinders#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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First Born
A/N: Kiliel week has finally come to a close! I had a lot of fun writing these and I wanna say a special thank you to @anjhope1 for being an amazing beta reader and getting me out of more than one slump! I have a super short bonus story I might post as well if anyone is interested. Also, the character Minasel does not belong to me, she’s the creation of @deathlikessodaandpizza and I included her as a little treat. You can read her story here if you are interested! Again, thank you all for your help and comments! I hope you enjoy this final part!
First Masterlist
Wordcount: 3k
Tags: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @guardianofrivendell @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @estethell @claraofthepen @kilielweek
Warnings: pregnancy, implied smut
Summary: Kili and Tauriel prepare for the birth of their first child, only they can’t decide on a name!
"Kili," Tauriel says one evening. "I want a baby."
Kili, sitting on his desk across the room, immediately stiffens, his back going ramrod straight. Then, he slowly turns around and just… stares at her, his brown eyes as round as saucers. He doesn't say anything, just stares, and the resulting silence is almost suffocating.
Tauriel shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, waiting for him to say something. It seems like he might, a few times, opening his mouth, and then closing it, and then opening it again, but he never speaks. She bites her lip. Probably should have approached this more delicately. "Kili?" She asks. He starts, like her voice has snapped him back to reality.
"Sorry," he says, suddenly standing up, "I just… now?"
Tauriel nods determinedly. No backing down now. "Yes. Now. I'm ready now."
Kili blinks. Suddenly, he's closing the distance between them, throwing off his shirt, and kissing her all at once. Tauriel bursts out laughing and welcomes his enthusiasm- they know it will be a long night.
.
Upon waking the next morning, she immediately knows it worked. She can sense, somehow, a tiny life beginning to grow inside her. It's what Kili would call a 'spooky elf power', to just know, right away, but she just… does. She places her hand on her stomach and turns her head to look at her husband. Kili is a messy sleeper, as usual, all sprawled out, the blankets barely covering his naked body. He's matured past the young dwarf Tauriel met in Mirkwood, having grown into his body much more, thickening out from the gangly (for a dwarf) young idiot she fell in love with, a longer beard and several scars also being obvious indicators of the passage of time. Tauriel scoots closer to him and rests her head on his chest, the weight of it waking him. Kili tenses up in a stretch and a yawn, extending his arms above his head, and then wrapping them around her.
"G'mornin'," he mumbles, rubbing her bare shoulder with one large, rough hand and pressing a sleepy kiss to the top of her head.
"Good morning," she replies.
"Wha' time izzit?"
"Early. The sun has not yet risen."
"Amrâlimê," he groans, grabbing the edge of the blanket and yanking it up to his shoulder. "Why did you wake me up? I can sleep in today!"
Tauriel bites back a soft laugh, helping him by pulling the other edge of the cover up and gently rubbing his chest. "I did not mean to. I apologize."
He lets out a wordless grumble, rolling them both over so he's snuggled up against her front, face against her chest, arms around her middle, and legs tangled with hers. "You're lucky I love you. Any other dwarf would protest quite heartily to an elvish witch waking them up before the sunrise."
"Elvish witch?" She asks with fake indignation.
Kili has the audacity to giggle in reply and she tugs at one of the braids that was left in his hair from yesterday. He lets out a shaky breath at that.
"I'm trying to sleep, witch."
"Are you?" She asks cheekily.
"Yes!" He untangles from her and rolls away to the very edge of the mattress, but Tauriel follows him, pressing her body up against his back.
"Kili," she whispers. "It worked."
"What worked?" He grumbles, trying to hide under the blankets. She chuckles and slides her arm around his middle, worming her hand under his arm until he lifts it to let her in.
"I'm pregnant," she murmurs in his ear. Kili goes still again. Then, he snorts.
"You're teasing me. You have no idea if it worked. Not yet at least."
"Oh, don't I?"
"Of course not. That's impossible."
"Mhm. Well. We could always try again, I suppose, just to make sure."
The speed at which he rolls over and on top of her is honestly impressive and she finds herself laughing into his mouth.
.
“I was being serious,” she says as they fall apart on the mattress, sweaty and sated. Kili looks over at her, wiping his bangs off his brow.
“What?”
“I was being serious. About being pregnant.”
Kili gapes at her, his eyes as wide as saucers. Then he sits bolt upright. “You were?!”
“Of course I was! Why would I joke about that?!”
“I don’t know!”
Kili covers his face. “Sweet Mahal. I’m going to be a father. Already. Y’know, I thought we’d have to try a few times at least! I didn’t think we’d get it in one go-- wait, how do you even know?!”
Tauriel props herself up on her elbow, thinking. “I don’t know. I just... do.”
He nods. “Fair enough.” He takes his hands off his face and looks at her. “We better start thinking about names.”
“Oh, we have time, meleth nin, don’t fret. We’ve a whole year to plan and get ready.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough time,” Kili mumbles.
“We did have several years before this,” She teases.
…
They don’t start thinking about names until a few months in, nor do they tell others about the pregnancy. The reaction from family and friends is ecstatic and the two of them are practically overwhelmed with well wishes and gifts and birthing advice and baby care tips. Tauriel finds herself quite glad that many of the dwarves are still cautious around her, especially when Cassia informs her bluntly that she very well might have perfect strangers come up to her and try to touch her belly the instant she starts showing. And that does not sound fun. Neither does the cravings or aches or morning sickness… For the most part, though, Tauriel is truly enjoying the experience of it. Her body is growing a tiny life! There is a baby inside her, living and developing and moving! She thinks it is beyond amazing and never passes up an opportunity to gush about it.
.
As the pregnancy progresses, they start thinking more seriously about names in between preparations. Kili has been insistent on a dwarven name, while Tauriel quite likes the idea of an elvish one.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks her husband one evening before bed. Kili is smoking his pipe and Tauriel is trying her best to knit a baby blanket. He blows a smoke ring thoughtfully.
"Names for our baby," he says. "I think it'll be a girl, so I've been thinking of girl names."
"Oh have you?" Tauriel asks, smiling. In her brief distraction she drops a stitch and frowns. This is harder than Dis and Cassia make it look.
He nods. "It’s tradition for the Durin line to give lasses names that end in "-is". My mother is Dis, my sister is Rhís, my great aunt was called Frís, and so on." He takes another drag from his pipe, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that lets Tauriel know he's been thinking quite hard about this.
"What have you come up with?" She queries, carefully unravelling and fixing her mistake.
"Eydís," Kili says. "It means 'good fortune' and she'll be our little treasure. What do you think?"
Tauriel frowns and lowers her knitting into her lap. "Well..." she says but is interrupted as Kili points his pipe at her in a joking manner.
"You don't like it,” he declares.
Tauriel hems and haws, not wanting to hurt his feelings. It’s a nice enough name, but not exactly what she had in mind.
"It's not that I don't like it, I just… I've gotten rather attached to the name Minasel."
Kili squints. “Minasel? What does that even mean?”
“It means tower of stars. I was thinking, since I want her to rise above all opposition…” She trails off, seeing the unimpressed look on Kili’s face, feeling anger flare. “Well! It’s better than Eydis!”
The argument about names does halt for the entirety of the pregnancy, Tauriel will say how little Minasel is being especially active today, or Kili will rub her belly and ask how little Eydis is that day, and from there the same repetitive argument will begin again. Both parents are exceedingly stubborn, and if one would give in, the other would have to give in just on principle and argue that the other name was much better than their idea. “No, really, it's a lovely name!” One will say. And the other will reply, “Well, I like the name you picked better!” And then they'd be right back at square one.
.
"What if you never decide on a name?" Fili asks one evening. The two brothers and their families are having a day off together, gathered in the large sitting room in the royal apartments. Kili shrugs.
"Then we hope the baby is a boy," he replies.
"And if it's not?"
Kili frowns. "Uhm…"
"How did you come up with the names for your children?" Tauriel asks her brother in law. “Didn’t you two ever argue about that?” Fili, bouncing his middle child, a lad named Kirin, on his knee, shrugs.
"Not exactly. Cassia's only request was our first daughter be named after her mother, and mine was that our first son be named for Thorin."
"What if you never have a daughter?" Kili challenges, "what then?"
"She thinks we will."
"I know we will!" Fili's wife, Cassia, enters the room, holding the littlest child in her arms. The infant, named Arnin, has just woken up from his nap, and blinks sleepily at them all over her arm, sucking on his fingers. "I just have a feeling our next will be a girl."
"After three boys?" Tauriel asks. Cassia sits down beside her friend and hands her the infant. Tauriel coos at him and tickles his stomach.
“I want at least eight children,” the Queen says, leaning back in her seat. “I’ve decided.”
"Eight?! You already have a preposterously large family with less than half that number!" Kili splutters.
“It’s how many she wants,” Fili says, as if that’s a perfectly valid reason.
"Nuncle Kili?" Fili and Cassia's oldest, Thorin, tugs on his uncle's pant leg. He had been playing on the floor. "What does proptserisly mean?"
"Preposterously," Kili corrects him gently, bending down to be at his level. "It means absurd or foolish."
"Oh. Are we pre...pre… prepops…"
"Preposterous?"
"Yes. Are we?"
"Indeed," Kili says, scooping him up into a hug. "Beyond a doubt!"
Thorin giggles and hugs him. "Mama!" He shouts, "we're propsterus!"
Cassia gives him a blank look. She hadn't been listening, busy talking with Tauriel. "Are we?"
"Nuncle Kili said so!"
“Kili, stop teaching him long words he can’t pronounce,” Fili says as Kili sets Thorin back down. The child runs to his mother and climbs into her arms.
“I’m improving his vocabulary!”
“Kili, he’s barely nine, when is he ever going to use the word preposterous?”
Tauriel laughs as the brothers argue, stroking Arnin’s curly hair. “If our baby is anything like this little pebble, I don’t think we have any cause to worry about them taking after Kili.”
Cassia fakes a shudder of horror. “Another Kili, running around causing havoc? That’s awful!”
The two of them giggle.
.
The months pass all in a rush, but also nowhere near fast enough and near the end Tauriel is well and truly fed up with being pregnant and Kili is desperate to meet his child.
The day of the birth, Tauriel goes into labor in the very early morning, and Kili sprints off to fetch the midwife. His mother and sister in law come to help with the birth. He is permitted to give his wife a kiss but is then promptly booted out the door to spend the time with Fili and his boys in their apartments, waiting with bated breath.
“Would you sit down and relax?” his brother says, blowing a smoke ring from his pipe.
“No! I cannot! I don’t know how you can expect me to sit down and relax when my wife is giving birth!” Kili shoots back and continues to pace. Fili raises an eyebrow at him.
“You’ll be pacing like that for a long time.”
“How long, adad?” Thorin asks sleepily, leaning against Fili’s side. He had awoken from the commotion of Cassia leaving and, despite the early hour, had been too excited to go back to bed, so Fili had permitted him to stay up.
“It depends,” he says, rubbing Thorin’s head. “It took all day for you to be born, so probably about the same.” The lad groans.
“All day?! But I wanna meet the baby now!”
“So does your uncle, but we’re all going to have to wait.”
After about half an hour, Thorin drops off to sleep and Fili tucks a blanket around him before walking over to stand next to his younger brother. “Here,” he says, offering his pipe. “You need this.”
Kili takes the pipe and inhales, letting the pipeweed calm his nerves and still the shaking in his hands.
“How long has Tauriel been having pains?” Fili asks, “Do you know?”
“She said she was beginning to feel it when we went to bed last night. She didn’t want to sleep but told me to.” Kili chews worriedly at the end of the pipe. “I feel like I should be there, helping her or something! I’ve never seen her in so much pain, Fi! Her face,” he waves his hand in front of his own, “was just white. I want to help her, Fili! I need to help her!” Kili cries, before placing his head in his hands.
“You’d probably get in the way if you tried,” Fili says bluntly. He places his hands on his brother’s shoulders and the weight grounds Kili, “Nothing will happen to her, she’ll be fine. You just have to relax.”
Kili looks up at Fili. “Are you sure?” He asks nervously. Fili nods.
“Of course I’m sure. Tauriel is one of the strongest people I know.” He pauses. “Don’t tell Dwalin I said that, though. He’d get indignant.”
That manages to make Kili let out a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders fading away. Fili is right. Tauriel will be fine.
.
After what seems like an age, Cassia returns to fetch Kili and bring him to Tauriel. Right before he enters the room, he stops on the threshold, suddenly nervous. His sister in law turns back to him when she notices he’s not beside her anymore. She trots back to him and frowns, giving him a little shove toward the door.
“Are you going in or not? Go! Go see your wife!” Kili stumbles through the doorway and hurries into the room. Tauriel is sitting up in bed, holding a little bundle. She looks exhausted, her face drawn and her forehead sweaty, but her sunlight smile is beaming across her face. She is clearly happier in this moment, despite her pain and weariness, than she has ever been before.
"Would you like to meet your daughter?" Tauriel asks him. Kili is at her side in an instant, nodding. As he moves across the room, he vaguely notices the midwife and his mother off in the corner doing something, but he doesn't exactly care about them. He only cares about his wife and his newborn child. He sits on the edge of the bed and Tauriel leans against his shoulder, moving the blanket slightly so Kili can clearly see the face of his firstborn. The little baby has his eyebrows and nose and a full head of dark red hair, and tiny, pointed ears.
“Hello there,” he whispers, reaching out and touching that miniscule nose. The baby murmurs a bit in her slumber, her eyebrows drawing down in a surprisingly intense glare for a newborn. Kili feels tears burn at the back of his throat.
“Isn’t she perfect?” Tauriel says, smiling down at the baby, “Our little Minasel.”
Kili looks up from admiring his newborn daughter with a frown on his face. “Minasel?”
“Doesn’t it fit her perfectly?”
“But I wanted to name her---”
“Are you two still fighting over that?” Dis sighs, turning around. “Here, Kili, this is Eydis.”
Quite suddenly, Kili is being handed a second baby. Luckily, he’s held his nephews enough to know exactly how to position his arms and support her head and he does so almost on instinct. This baby is smaller than Minasel, completely bald atop her head, but just as is typical of dwarven babies, has a beard, soft and strawberry blonde.
“Twins?!” Kili shouts. “We had twins?!” Minasel and Eydis, startled by their father’s loud voice, burst into tears.
“Kili!” Tauriel and Dis scold, scrambling to quiet Minasel while Dis takes Eydis back to calm her.
“Sorry!”
Soon, the babies are quieted, sleeping peacefully. The midwives finish their work and leave the new parents alone to bond with their children. Somewhere along the line, Kili and Tauriel had traded babies, and Kili is now holding Minasel. Tauriel is nursing Eydis (another thing that isn’t as easy as it looks) and Kili carries his eldest daughter over to the window to get a better look at her. She squints hard when the sunlight hits her face, screwing up into that glare again, and then slowly blinks open her eyes. Kili’s breath catches in his throat. “Hello,” he whispers. Minasel squints at him, then opens them wider. “She has my eyes,” he says softly to Tauriel and draws his daughter up to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She sighs and sinks back into peaceful sleep.
“I’m glad she does,” Tauriel says, “I love your eyes. Eydis hasn’t opened hers, yet.”
Kili comes over to the bed. The smaller baby has finished nursing and is now laying peacefully in Tauriel’s arms, her eyes still squeezed shut. He sits down beside his wife and leans against her shoulder. “Can you show us your eyes, Eydis?” he whispers. To both their surprise, she squirms a bit and then blinks slowly. Her eyes are brown as well— wide, curious, and bright. She yawns hugely and makes a little noise that melts both their hearts. Kili beams.
“They both have my eyes!” He says happily.
“They do indeed,” Tauriel replies. “Here, why don’t we lay them next to each other?” She carefully sets Eydis on the bed and pats the space next to her tiny body. Kili lays Minasel down in the open space, and both babies immediately curl together as if they are still in the womb. Kili looks up and Tauriel with a tearful smile.
“They’re perfect,” he says. Turning to his wife, he smiles softly, “You’re amazing, amrâlimê.”
She blushes a bit. Even after nearly a decade of marriage he still manages to fluster her with his sweet words. “Thank you, meleth nin,” she says.
He leans forward and kisses her gently.
“Thank you for loving me,” she whispers and he smiles against her mouth.
“As if I could do anything less, my starlight.”
“That’s new,” she laughs.
“Aye, trying something out. What do you think?”
“I think ‘Starlight’ would better fit our little Minasel,” she replies honestly.
“I think so too, but what about Eydis?”
“She’s a little gem, isn’t she?”
“Ithtir and Ibinê,” Kili says softly. Tauriel gives him a confused look.
“I’m sorry?”
“Those can be their secret names, Ithtir and Ibinê, ‘Bright Star’ and ‘Little Gem’. Don’t you think they fit?”
Tauriel looks down at the twins, a soft smile on her face and sighs happily.
“They’re perfect.”
#kiliel#kilielweek#kiliel week#kilielweek2021#kiliel week 2021#kili#tauriel#my writing#fili#fili x oc#cassia baggins#the hobbit#the hobbit fanfic#lotr#tolkien
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Hc inverse au! Fem Reader in Victorian era England and ynm characters are in our time.
You are a character in an anime and ynm are in real life
Williams
( he seems like the type to be into really dense, historical mangas)
He first read a manga featuring you when one of his students left their copy on their desk and he had to overview some students while they were using the presentation room.
He mostly just sat in the first row while the group of teens were recording hamlet for the theater class.
He didn't really took the story seriously so he started reading a lady who was trying to seduce a noble for a few pages, he was about to leave the manga given that he supposed it was a hentai but when you poisoned them with the wine cup he found it interesting
The main character had a set of very strong ideals that weren't so common in the historical context, be it strip nobles and royals from benefits, be a suffragette, or something similar .He ate the manga in five minutes
When he returns home (and leaves the item in lost objects, ofc) he checks online to buy the first volume to see if the background and sort are interesting along with every other volume and official light novel and Novella . He usually isn't home from very early to very late at night so it would be Louis most likely the one who receives the box with the books
"Brother, did you buy a box full of comics" Louis asks from the kitchen after he feels his older brother returning home
" oh? They already arrived? I thought they would be here next week" well Louis always was worries about how his brother didn't have any hobbies aside from teaching at the University so he was happy that he found something else to do with his life
He would ask for a sick day on a Monday or Friday so he could plan everything that was needed at his class that day and spend the weekend lazing around and reading the various volumes and the light novels. That day Louis and albert almost cried of happiness, that was the first time he took a sick day in all of his teaching years to take a break
The type of fan who creates theories that everything is symbolism, how they are ambidextrous to show that even if they intend good sometimes their methods are too extreme or how their hat was placed or the color of their clothes show their political affiliation. Nothing can be just a coincidence with him, everything means something
Is a big pain in the ass about historical inaccuracies, be it dress, manners or social hierarchy being off
" But listen this is the late Victorian era, where is their crinoline??/ They are supposed to be a Victorian dandy and the writer wants me to believe they would wear that? In that society?" williams turned on the lights to his younger brother room while walking in circles as if he was trying to calm down
" Williams it's 3 am. Please I want to sleep"
" Oh and don't let me get started when they crossdressed/dressed as lady northinburg, that tight lacing scene made me so angry" he was dragging his words, Louis guessed he was sleep drunk " how much I hate that, karolina or bernadette would kill those producers if they saw it" Louis simply opted to sleep while his brother was ranting about how the hairstyles were al wrong
When speaking of merchandising he appreciates his mature and elegant reputation so he would buy small things like cute stationery and notebooks and a few pens. Most of them either are about the main character, you, or have the anime title or something similar
A few students think that the professor brings some childish pens in case some student forgets one and he doesn't have to give them his mechanical pencil. He actually uses those pens when he is grading the exams. His notebook annotations look a lot cleaner and are more colorfully bc of the markers and pens
When and if your manga gets and anime he would be 100 percent bitching about how they skipped, if you are a minor character, scenes where you are introduced or you character gets development.
" Oh my goodness, they skipped to this ark? And 'the mask'? In that ark we get the development of many characters, yn, edward, Amélie, Alex. We are absolutely robed of their backgrounds and aspirations and how they are all connected"
" Brother be honest with yourself, you only wanted more animated yn, you follow their voice actor on twitter"
" That is not my point!"
Albert
he was watching it when he came late
Albert usually keeps company to his youngest brother until around 5-6 pm, then he leaves for work and returns around 12 am and eats dinner alone mostly.
When he returns from his job the house is more often than not totally dark so he makes his way to the kitchen and microwaves the leftovers and eats silently.
But one day it seems like Louis or williams forgot to turn off the TV before going to bed, he was about to turn it off but decided that watching something with the tv muted wouldn't wake his brothers up and kept watching.
He didn't pay much attention to it at the start but it became routine, he comes home, heats the food, sits down and watches that show so he grew quite fond of it
How much attention he pays to it depends on the type of plot it has, if it is light-hearted humor he would most likely not pay much attention but laugh when a joke came, one the other hand, if it's a more serious he would find it hard to take his eyes away from the screen
Second least likely to buy merchandising, if he buys it's mostly to wear home, a one size too big shirt for a pj (mostly for the comedy anime) or, if they aren't childish and look professional maybe a pocket watch like the one x character uses ( in the more serious one)
Won't buy the mangas if there are any because he is happy watching the animated version and already has to read a lot at work, but if he is gifted the volumes he will read them sparingly, maybe he will finish one volume every week and a half, unlike williams.
Louis
He spends most of his time home because of his illness and doesn't like to stress too much given that it makes the symptoms worse, he enjoys light hearted comedies or cooking in the victorian era or those typical time travelers who now have to live in different situations than those they are used to
He most likely found it after doing all the housework and being bored so he opted to browse the TV or netflix and fell on one specific serie
If it is a comedy he will listen to it while cleaning or cooking, he feels like he does everything faster and the housework is more enjoyable that way.
If it's a cooking related program he will watch as entertainment after doing everything and to get ideas what to cook, he is always surprised with the recipes that your character comes up with, be them savory ( things he will absolutely do the next day for lunch or dinner) or sweet ( things he will make more sparingly given he can't have too much sugar). I think of mangas and series like the duchess' 50 te recipes or shokugeki no soma
If it the third option he was interested on the alternatives to modern things, like how to make a more natural soap with animal fat and wood ash, or how to use certain plants to help a headache or stomach bug.
With merchandising he doesn't buy much, some kitchenware and some bowls mugs and maybe a tea set that isn't much of an eyesore. Overall he isn't all that crazy over that kind of things if there is a cooking book he will definitely buy it
He, like albert, doesn't care much about historical accuracy and if the events that happen are cohesive, he is there to have fun
Fred
He watched it because he heard his classmates talk about it and wanted to join them but was too scared to bother them if he didn't know anything. Baby has the social abilities of an anxious lobster
He comes home from college and looks the anime up in his phone and, like every broke college student, he watches it from an illegal streaming service.
He gets hooked up and stays all night watching it until his clock snaps him out of his trance and makes him drag his feet to his 7:30 am class
Fred tries and fails to talk to the group so, after the lesson, he drags himself to his room to be miserable alone. It's not until he reaches a certain chapter or episode where you say something that make him think, " if you wish to be loved you must face first your fear to be known" he keeps thinking about it, he didn't truly ever talk to the group, he cowarded before even trying.
The next week at that same lecture he approaches the group and tries to make some small talk
" Oh hey uhm i heard the past class that you liked (maga name)" he was this close to running to his desk and act as if nothing happened
" Yeah! You like it too?" The boy seemed to notice fred was nervous
" Yes! I really like it, what is you favorite character? Mine is yn" he certainly didn't have any favorite one before but after this he thinks your character is pretty good " they are really inspiring"
In terms of merch he is broke so there is none, If he had any money to spare he would buy notebooks and even those chibi statues or funko pops
#yuumori#yuukoku no moriarty x reader#yuukoku no moriarty#moriarty x reader#albert james moriarty#professor moriarty#moriarty the patriot#mtp#ynm#gn reader#william moriarty#williams james moriarty x reader#louis moriarty
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