#please ignore my horrible skills of drawing water
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Just some ghouls at the beach!
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#digital art#fanart#monster high#mh fanart#monster gigh fanart#frankie stein#clawdeen wolf#draculaura#monster high frankie#monster high clawdeen#monster high draculaura#beach#beach fanart#please ignore my horrible skills of drawing water#it's bad i have to improve#should draculaura be covered in sunscreen? yes#but well the day is cloudy and she has her little parasol#so i guess it's fine
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Portraits of a Tiger - The Finale
Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.
And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.
Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi
Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst, not intended to be a historical au.
Word Count: 28k
Warnings: depictions of violence, death, blood, choking, mentions of battle, heavy angst (happy endings only), LONGING, explicit language, mentions of grief, mentions of loss, mentions of insecurity, explicit smut: scratching, biting, lovebites, unprotected sex.
A/N: welp :( This is the end for now folks. I can’t believe I finally finished a series on this freakin’ blog lol. I am so incredibly grateful for your patience. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you do, I would love to hear from you. Whilst this is the end of the series, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote drabbles for it in the future so, if there is anything you’d like to see more of, please let me know :D
A few thank you notes to my sisters from across the globe @yoonia and @randombtsprincessa, the two of you are so important to me and, I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love you lots.
To @kithtaehyung @missgeniality @noelleydances thank you for always hyping me up and, being willing to chat with silly ol me. You’re all amazing and I LOVE YOU ALOT.
To @gldnrecs LISTEN IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW, LAY. I am so thankful you and, your willingness to scream with me in my dms. I’m so honored to know you and, I hope you know that I am always here if you need anything. ALSO HAPPY COLLEGE GRADUATION YOU FREAKING GENIUS. Please consider this (and Hobi’s conclusion specifically) my graduation present. Love you.
Love letter to Rachel: It’s very important for anyone who comes across this story to know that I would have NEVER EVER EVER be able to conjure up this universe without the help of my bestie @bulletproofbirdy. My friend, you are a genius and, it has truly been such an honor designing this world with you. I am so grateful that I’ve been able to create something with someone as amazing as you but, ON TOP OF IT??? We became so close that we literally talk every single day. I don’t know what to say without being the mushiest person ever but, I just want to thank you for being you. Without your love, your support and your BIG BRAIN, I would have never finished this series. I hope it lives up to all of your expectations. I love you.
The clouds hung in the air with a heaviness that was almost palpable. Storm season was looming over the horizon and, although you’re aware that the rain is more than overdue, you still feel a sense of doom clinging to your subconscious. This time of year, arrives like clockwork and your village is well-equipped to deal with all the rainfall, the thunder, the lightening...
But there was always a chance that the river would flood and thus there was always a chance for tragedy to strike; a chance for everything you’ve ever known to be swallowed whole. You know you can’t stop a flood. The water operates on its own axis, untethered by human convenience. It terrifies you yes but, you’re fascinated none the less.
With a deep sigh, you step away from the edge of the river. The soft bubbling of the water is intriguing you, eliciting a yearning within you to step inside just one last time. However, you know the bite of the water would be too much to handle on your bare feet and you really don’t want to catch a cold before the winter season has even started.
Turning around, the breath you are preparing to take gets lodged deep in the center of your throat. It’s Yoongi and he’s reaching out for you but the look of pain on his face alerts you that something is horribly wrong.
“Y/n...” He croaks, his eyes wide with fear as he reaches out to you and it’s then that you see the blood dripping from his fingers. Your eyes frantically travel down his figure before realizing the source of the blood.
A wound similar to that of a sword brandishes his lower stomach, staining his tunic and causing the bile in your stomach to swirl uncomfortably.
He’s hurt.
He’s hurt badly.
“Yoongi!” You cry to him, your heartbeat rising to a level that feels painful.
As you try to run to him however, he falls to his knees, the life sparking in his eyes one last time before he collapses.
The scream coming from your lips is unrecognizable but, thankfully it draws you upright in your bed, informing you that horrible scene you just witnessed, was only a dream.
You clutch your hand to your chest, breathing heavily, your eyes stinging as they well up with tears. Without thinking, you sob into the clasped hand over your lips, trying your best to calm down but the morbid images continue to assault your mind over and over.
The light streaming in through your window, informs you that the sun has risen. At least your nightmare had allowed you to sleep a full night before rudely interrupting. You swallow back another sob, forcing a deep breath through your nose while you remind yourself that Yoongi is ok.
But you can’t know that for sure, can you?
The small break in your logic is enough to make you rush out of bed and into your coat, not bothering to fix your appearance as you shove your feet into your shoes. Thankfully, your parents are still sleeping soundly in their beds when you bustle through the main room and towards the door.
You have to see for yourself; even a glimpse of him could loosen the grip that fear currently has on your mind. You take the back way to avoid the marketplace which already shows signs of coming to life. You would need to make it quick to avoid missing the morning crowd: that’s usually where most of your sale’s come from.
With everything in you, you hope that he’s already awake because if he isn’t, you’d just have to move on without the reassurance, which is what you should do anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to let it go.
Thankfully, Yoongi is awake and by the looks of it, he’s out with the new recruits, running drills in the grass right in front of their camp. You see Jungkook out there as well, assisting one of the men with his form as he brandishes a sword.
The sight floods your mind with images of your dream once again, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.
He’s ok though, so regardless of the images, you feel content seeing him in good health. Logically, you know you need to go about your day and allow him to go about his but, as you move to turn back towards the village- he notices you.
At first, a smile passes over his lips almost involuntarily but, his keen observation skills notice something is array. You see him gesture to his men to continue before he starts making his way in your direction.
Embarrassment washes over you without any warning and you try and wave him off, reassuring him that everything is ok, but he ignores it and jogs over anyway.
“Good morning-” He murmurs, his hands reaching out for yours. As he laces his fingers between your own, he tilts his head, “Are you ok?”
Instinctively, you nod but when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out.
Glancing up towards his face, your eyes pass over the area your mind brandished with blood and, without thinking, you throw your arms around him.
Yoongi is a little taken aback but he reciprocates nonetheless, his arms encircling you and pressing you against his chest. You feel a sigh of relief leave your lips as you cling to his robe, breathing in the subtle scent of him.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
The whisper of your voice sends an aching into his chest and although you don’t disclose exactly what happened, Yoongi trusts that you had a valid reason for checking on his well-being.
With a soft smile, he presses a kiss to your temple, “I feel a little more than ok now...” He confirms before pulling back to look into your eyes, “May I do my own wellness check?”
There is a playfulness to his tone that softens the hard exterior of your residual panic and you bite your bottom lip when you nod.
His expression grows pensive as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face from left to right, his own head following the motions whilst he narrows his eyes,
“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here...” He grins, his blonde hair rustling slightly with the pace of the wind, eyes alight with fondness, “Still beautiful- still curious, still driving me insane because, I don’t know what’s going through her head...”
A small bit of laughter leaves your lips as you slide your hand up his forearm before settling gently on his wrist. With your fingertips, you press lightly against the bone beneath his skin, relishing in any tangible part of him you can touch, “I had a nightmare about you.”
He purses his lips together, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “Did I turn into a tiger and try to eat you? My men have told me they had this dream quite a lot during training...”
Yoongi attempts to keep his tone playful but he looks slightly deflated now as he waits for your response.
With a small smile, you shake your head tightly. You take his hand away from your chin, lacing your fingers together, ensuring that the grip you have on him is tight.
“No. You were-”A sigh leaves your lips whilst you shake your head, “You were hurt.” You spare him the details, “I woke up and just started running over here to make sure you were ok...it’s a bit silly now that I’m thinking of it.”
Yoongi can’t help but smile at you, his heart flourishing with the promise new romance often makes. He is saddened that you were worried on his account but, he would be lying if he said that this wasn’t endearing.
Ok- so perhaps it was extremely endearing.
“And if I wasn’t ok?” He wraps his arms around you, “Would you have come to my rescue?”
The smirk on his lips makes him all the more handsome and the feeling of his hands on the small of your back, makes your mind fuzzier than you’d care to admit.
“I would have-” Your voice grows higher with determination which causes Yoongi to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, “Why are you laughing???? Do you doubt my ability to hold my own on the battlefield?”
Yoongi’s laughter is choppy and warm, it soothes every sore spot of anxiety in your head in almost medicinal way.
You wish you could hear the sound more.
“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, still chuckling a bit, “In fact, I think you’d make a fine solider, ma'am. It’s just-” He glances down at your feet, “I don’t usually recommend wearing house slippers on the battlefield.”
The rolling of your eyes, brings Yoongi’s laughter back into the conversation.
“I would have managed just fine, thank you. You underestimate how powerful house slippers can be when brandished by the right person.”
He raises his brows, “Is that right? You wouldn’t need a sword then? Just your slippers?”
“Mhm.” You grumble with certainty, your fingers finding the ends of the hair hanging down from his pony tail, “My slippers and my wit are more powerful than any weapons you have here.”
Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and slow in the base of his throat, “Now that sounds a bit more realistic- that mouth of yours would certainly be enough to guarantee your victory.”
As he’s replying, you’re gently tracing your fingertips up the length of his spine, admiring the strength clearly present in the muscles of his back.
“Hm-” You muse, stealing a look directly into his eyes, “I do hope to show you what my mouth is capable of someday-” Fluttering your lids innocently, you try to stop the smirk from taking over your mouth but, when Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, it takes over anyway.
Drawing a deep breath through his nose, you see his Adam’s apple bob in the center of his throat as his jaw fills up with tension. An audible swallow comes from him as his gaze slowly shifts from playful to perturbed.
“I find it ironic that you’ve chosen to threaten my wellbeing…whilst in the middle of a wellness check …”
You hum with a sense of false innocence, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”
“You’re dangerous” He murmurs, and you don’t miss the lust that coats his voice, “and unarmed...” A chuckle leaves his lips then as he presses his hands further into your skin, “and in your house slippers. I think you might be the biggest threat I’ve ever encountered.”
This makes you giggle now, dropping the salacious tone from your voice but, as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips- a voice brings your motions to a halt.
“General Tiger! Are you going to join your men for training this morning or were you planning on teaching them the art of seduction?”
It’s Jin and he’s stood outside their tent with his arms crossed. It’s then that you notice the lack of movement in his camp. Most of the recruits were sort of standing around awkwardly, many of them sneaking a glance at the two of you.
They look rather shocked at Jin’s choice of words, expecting Yoongi’s wrath but instead he merely smirks and leans in so his lips are at your ear before whispering, “We’ll talk about this later...”
His slightly menacing tone sends excitement rushing into your chest as you reluctantly pull away from him.
You salute him, “Yes sir.”
Yoongi forces a breath out of his nostrils, shaking his head at you, “You’re going to kill me one day.” He mutters to himself as he practically saunters back to his camp.
Yoongi is still smirking as he returns amidst his group of men, which Jin promptly comments on.
“Even after a decade with you, you still surprise me.” He notes, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.
“Third line, run those last two again! I need you sharper than that!” Yoongi calls out to his men, replacing his commanding expression with one full of nonchalance, “What are you referring to?”
Jin merely nods to the place the two of you had just been canoodling in, “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever see the day you took a partner- let alone the day that you’d publicly display affection for one. I wouldn’t necessarily think to question it but-”
Yoongi smirks, his eyes on the men in front of him but his focus clearly elsewhere, “And yet here you are...”
Jin rolls his eyes, “You can’t possibly blame me. I mean, you have a reputation that spans across the entirety of this land- does it concern you that they might mark you as vulnerable? From what I’ve gathered around the plaza, many of these villagers have already began to view you more casually.”
Yoongi’s smirk never fades as he calls out another command to the recruits, “If an enemy brands me as vulnerable- that is an error on their end, not on mine. In fact, I imagine it would bode quite well for me in the end. In regard to the villagers viewing me in a certain light- I can’t say I mind. Being feared was never something I asked for- you know this well. I would hope that more of the people I’ve served find me approachable.”
Jin doesn’t look convinced, knowing Yoongi far too well to believe that this was the end of his explanation, “There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have other motives for being so open about her.”
Yoongi tilts his head in thought, still not bothering to look at him, ���I just don’t think it hurts to send a message, to anyone who might be observing us.”
Jin scoffs at his vagueness, attempting eye contact, “What message might that be?”
Finally, Yoongi turns towards him, the ghost of his previous smirk on his mouth, “That she is both protected and accounted for.”
With that, Yoongi draws his sword and heads back amongst the large crowd of men who, having finished their drills, were now eagerly awaiting his instruction.
Jin finds himself smirking as well now, undeniably intrigued by his general’s newfound attitude.
Your day in the marketplace moves slowly but, you find yourself largely unphased. With a mind full of budding romance and unresolved passion, it’s difficult to focus on the mundanity of everyday life.
“So- “ Jane begins, with a curious gaze as the two of you begin packing up your wares for the day, “I’ve seen you over at the military camp quite a lot these past few weeks...”
Unable to resist, you roll your eyes at her observation whilst lining your bags with your belongings, “I’ve been making bread for the battalion.”
You’ve learned over the years of working with Jane that keeping your responses to a minimum is a good idea, particularly when she decides to fish for information.
She has an impressive habit of picking your words apart in search of anything potentially scandalous.
“Oh? So I suppose canoodling with their leader is just a part of your services then?”
With wide eyes, your head whips in her direction, “What do you mean?”
Jane chuckles, smoothing her hands over the many fly aways atop her head, “The man clearly moves as though a burden has been lifted from him and, given the way he looks at you every time he visits our plaza- I have no choice but to assume that you were the one to do so.”
Most of the time, you’d shy away from her attempts to gossip but, you’re in a bit of a mood after your earlier encounter with Yoongi so, you decide to give her something to work with. “I am a healer Jane, if I can lift the burden of stress from my patrons- I won’t shy away from the opportunity.”
It’s her turn to widen her eyes now as she chokes back the small gasp coming from her throat, “Are you- are you saying it’s true then? You’ve laid with the Tiger?”
In an almost child-like manner, you giggle to yourself, glancing over at her briefly, “Is it still considered lying with him if I were pressed up against a tree?”
Jane’s face shines like a summer tomato, fit to burst, as she hustles closer to you, “My girl!” She whispers, “What has gotten into you?”
Brushing off leftover debris from your cart, you turn towards her, “Well according to your theory-” You wager, “I suppose it was the Tiger,” You smirk, “Wasn’t it?”
Jane smacks your arm now, causing your laughter to increase in volume, “Y/N! I am shocked by you-” She begins before her features seem to morph back into her previous curiosity, “and slightly impressed...I thought I was the only whore around here.”
“Jane!” You swat her arm now, shaking your head at her and trying your best not to laugh, “Aren’t you married?”
She shrugs, a smirk now present on her lips, “I am but-” She eyes her husband, who is obliviously untangling his fishing line across the plaza, “Morris and I are well-acquainted...” She allows the word to drop from her mouth like maple syrup, “with other members of the village.”
Did she just-
“Whatever satisfies your heart and mind, Jane. I’m glad you and Morris are active community members...” You wave her off, giggling once again and desperately hoping she won’t divulge any further details, “I’ll see you tomorrow...stay out of trouble.”
“Don’t give me advice you know I won’t take Y/N...” She chuckles loudly before calling her husband, “Oh Morris! Don’t forgot we have plans with the minister and his wife this evening!”
Morris’s eyes widen, seeming to understand the hidden implication behind her words as he puts his index finger to his lips in an effort to silence her.
With that disturbing piece of information, you rush out of the plaza before you learn anything else that has the capability of scaring you for life.
Before heading to Rachel’s with her steamed buns, you decide to stop at the library to check out the new arrivals from the Queen’s province. Every month or so, they send new copies of the latest publishing from the capital and, given how coveted they are- you always try to make it to the library on the day of delivery.
You’re able to snag a title on growing herbs in the wintertime before spotting someone you’ve been quite eager to see: Rachel.
You find her perusing the history section, completely unaware of her presence even as you slink up beside her, “Oh hi there- fancy meeting you here; how was meeting your new student?”
Jumping slightly at the unexpected interruption, she pivots towards you before her eyes narrow with accusation, “Oh NO you don’t!” She chides, though her red cheeks suggest something else, “I cannot believe you used my love of teaching to stage a romantic COUP in my own schoolroom!” She rants, eyes wild with disbelief.
Ignoring her completely, you lean against the shelf- admiring the scent of the parchment before repeating your question, “Uh huh yeah-” You dismiss, “How did it go?”
“It went...” She clears her throat, mindlessly running her fingers over the spines resting on the shelves, “very well- it went very well.”
Looking at her expectantly, you raise your brows, “Can you define ‘well’ for the courts please?”
Rachel’s eyes seem to light up all over again as they drift into her story, “I never thought a man like that could be interested in such a quiet life like mine...we hardly know each other but, there is such kindness and passion in his eyes...it feels like I’ve known him for years.”
Seeing your best friend so enamored warms your heart; if anyone deserved happiness in this world, it would be her.
She goes on to tell you everything that happened between the two of them, recounting the nervous glances, flushed cheeks and a romantic confession from Bambi with the biceps himself.
At her conclusion, you’re unable to help the excited squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her flushed frame, “I’m so happy for you!!!” Your scream comes out as an excited whisper, not wanting to feel the wrath of the librarian before you recall her earlier comment, “I think your quiet life and impeccable charm is what drew him in, in the first place...” You nudge her playfully, “You should have seen him talking about you- even I was swooning.”
She glows brighter, her figure emanating a bright carnation as she smoothly changes the subject; Rachel will only take the spotlight for so long, “Speaking of swooning, how is that ferocious general for yours, eh?”
Suddenly, you become very interested with a book on the shelf beside you, “Hm? What general? I don’t know a general Rachel, I’m just a silly little medicine woman.”
Her eyes widen as she smacks you playfully, “APOTHECARY!” She corrects and, the two of you giggle like schoolchildren as the librarian shoots daggers in your direction, “Don’t play coy with me- I spilled my guts about Jungkook. Fair is fair.”
Resigned, you let out a sigh and try to contain all of your emotions towards the subject, “Fiiiiine. The general simply explained that...” you look around to make sure no one is listening before lowering your voice, “that the reason we haven’t, hmmm what’s the word-” You pause once more, looking rather pensive, “defiled one another yet, is because he wants to wait until he has no more distractions. Which basically means we must wait until retirement, which of course also means- I am likely to go insane.”
Rachel snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth in an effort to conceal with laughter, “Wow he is serious about his intimacy.” She comments as she places a hand on your shoulder, “It’s been nice knowing you. I will tell the world your story.”
Slumping against her, you groan, feeling the full weight of your impatience, “If you’re wondering whether or not he still kisses me passionately beneath the moonlight despite the fact that he wants to wait- the answer is a resounding yes.” You explain, matter of factly, “it’s like he is wishing for the destruction of my sanity...”
Rachel links arms and giggles once again, “Look at us hm? Being pined for by heroes like in the poems that line these shelves...” She nods to them, “Who have thought?”
“I am slightly regretting all of my daydreams involving a knight in shining armor- who would have thought there would be so much yearning?”
She merely laughs again, shaking her head at you, “Have you two discussed his retirement?”
You nod, “His entire battalion is retiring this year. He said it should be around the wintertime, all of them have been in service for 10 years, including Jungkook.”
“That’s incredible: ten years of such a hard life. I couldn’t imagine. Do you know what they will do?”
“That means Jungkook joined the queen’s army before he was of age,” You observe, furrowing your brow, “I imagine they will retire with their chosen partners. Yoongi said that, that was his plan at least-” Your voice turns slightly coy at the end, “I don’t imagine they will have to work for the rest of their lives. My parents always talk about how well taken care of decorated soldiers are.”
Rachel’s face falls, “I’m just imagining Jungkook choosing this life at such a young age...the things those men have seen and, the rough life they have in service to the two queens...” She shakes her head, “I hope they all find peace and happiness, no matter what they choose.”
You nod, resting your head on her shoulder, “I think they have made their choices already- it all depends on if their partners reciprocate their advances.”
Rachel nudges you when she hears your teasing tone, “Quiet down you, we’re in the library...”
After much more giggling and, gushing over the men that have stolen your hearts, the two of you part ways.
Rachel has an evening to prepare for after all...
She rushes home after her time at the library. The books she gathered for her lesson on Monday are carefully placed on her bookshelf and, the ingredients for tonight’s meal are sprawled out on her countertop.
As she begins the long process of preparing for her night with Jungkook, she allows her mind to wander to a place she seldom visits: the past.
Like most people, she finds indulging in this subject to be quite the slippery slope. Today, she finds herself remembering a time where finding love seemed like nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. Rachel is a brilliant woman yes, but she has mistakenly branded herself as invisible for most of her life.
Now, she is faced with the reality that not only does someone see her but, they are enamored with her.
It’s slightly terrifying.
Another quiet breath is pulled through her nose then as she smooths her hands over her dress once more.
Glancing back towards the home she’s shared with herself over the years, a small smile comes over her face as she realizes that she might need to get used to the idea of sharing.
But then again, it will be nice to have someone around during the winter...
Especially when that someone has biceps like Jungkook.
Rachel waves at a group of students who scream her name excitedly from across the street whilst desperately hoping that they don’t try to follow her to her destination.
With another deep breath, she begins heading out of the market plaza and into the deep emerald of the clearing just before the camp. Normally around this time, she would be heading there with Y/N to deliver bread but, tonight she takes a sharp left into forest.
She had given Jungkook instructions on how to get there and he had then insisted on getting there before her to set things up. Rachel realized at that moment that her ability to refuse him was at a minimum, especially when he flashed those beautiful eyes her way.
Curse him and his ethereal beauty.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she navigates through the maze of trees as the sound of running water slowly makes its way into her ears. A smile comes across her lips then, as she realizes she’s getting close.
The sun is beginning to take the minimal warmth of the day with it as it begins its descent towards the horizon and, she feels slightly regretful that she chose to meet with him around sunset.
Sometimes you have to sacrifice body heat for the ambience.
As she nears one of the many pools that come off of the main river, she finally sees Jungkook waiting for her. Slowly but surely, she can make out his appearance for the evening and as she does, her heart swoons.
He’s standing somewhat awkwardly at the edge of a large tan woolen blanket, dressed in a red tunic and red cloth pants, with his onyx locks freshly washed and curling in various directions atop his head. She sees him swallow at the sight of her, the tiniest of smiles etching onto his lips.
“Good evening.” He bows slightly, gesturing to her, “You look- um, you look very nice.”
She returns his smile, fingers clutching the basket of food a bit tighter, “Good evening. I could say the same to you, red looks really great on you.”
His stance seems to light up at her compliment, the tiny smile growing, “That’s what my hyungs said, I wasn’t sure if it was too much but, if you like it then-” He nods, cringing at how nervous he feels, “-then that’s good.”
Rachel bites her lip, noticing his nerves immediately, “I love it,” She assures him before raising the basket up, “I brought dumplings. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I brought a few different ones.”
At the mention of food, the tension within his figure seems to dissipate.
“I can’t wait to try them,” He grins now as he gestures to the blanket, “You can sit wherever you’d like, I can take those from you-” He shakes his head then, regretting his choice of words, “No wait... here-” He is gentle as he takes the basket from her before turning around to set it carefully on the blanket. He then reaches out with his palm extended, “I’ll help you down...”
Her heart bursts.
It seems she isn't the only one flooded with nervous excitement.
“Thank you-” She insures to heighten the gratitude within her tone, wanting to soothe his anxiety in any way she can, despite feeling so much of her own.
He plops next to her in a less graceful manner then he would have hoped as he looks regretfully toward his canteen, “We don’t have an extra canteen in the camp. They were all given away to the new recruits. I would have brought you your own but, I washed mine for you and filled it up. I can drink from the river over there.”
“Oh goodness no, you don’t have to do that-” She shakes your head, pulling out her canteen from the basket, “I figured you would have had your own; I should have brought you one just in case though-”
“No really, it’s ok! I can just use mine.” Once again, he cringes, “I guess it’s a bit strange that I would have thought you’d want to drink from mine...I don’t know what I was thinking.”
At the rather innocent pout on his lips, he looks up at her- feeling slightly hopeless.
A bit of silence lingers in the air for a moment before Rachel giggles and at the sound, Jungkook’s lips twitch.
“It’s not a good sign that you’re already laughing-” He laments, the smiling that was threatening his mouth fully taking over, “Even though I quite like hearing it...”
Rachel places a cautious hand over Jungkook’s knuckles, relishing in the warmth of his skin, “I promise you it is-“ She disagrees, “It’s important that I’m around people I can laugh with- even if its at our own expense sometimes…”
The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turns up in a half smile, “That might work out in my favor then- my hyungs say I appear one way but, behave another…I guess that’s why I feel so nervous now…”
He looks up at her quite innocently through his long eyelashes as Rachel furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”
Jungkook’s fingers are now aimlessly toying with the bit of loose thread and, with her heightened sense of empathy, Rachel can sense that he is burdened in some way.
“I am slightly afraid that you will be disappointed when you get to know me…” He admits.
This shocks Rachel as she cannot imagine how someone as beautiful as Jungkook could lack confidence in any capacity. But still, she feels the urge to understand him.
“Well, I don’t want to discount your worries Mr. Jeon but, “ She tilts her head slightly, a hint of sternness in her gaze, “I sincerely doubt your ability to disappoint me.”
Jungkook’s cheeks begin to burn all over again; there is something about the way her lips look curving around the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ that he stores away for a later time.
“Aren’t I already different than what you expected?” He chuckles, and the sound is boyish and full of airiness but, it still holds a bit of tension.
He was right.
He was much different than she had anticipated but that isn’t saying much, considering the fact that her first impression of him came after he took down a group of raiders.
“Different doesn’t always mean disappointment…” She assures him candidly, “In fact, I am quite relieved that you aren’t what I expected.”
He is intrigued, “Most of the people I meet are afraid of me but, I can’t say I blame them; My hyungs and I come with a reputation. Were you afraid of us when we came here?”
Jungkook wants to know what she thinks, even if he might be uncomfortable with her answer.
Rachel eyes the dumplings collecting the cool air around them and, doesn’t even notice the fact that they have yet to start eating. Both of them are too overcome with anticipation to pay attention to much else aside from each other.
It felt instinctual to begin things this way.
“Yes.” She replies honestly, catching the way his face falls and regretting it instantly, “But that wasn’t your doing. I have come to understand that you and the rest of your battalion are merely victims of village gossip. Besides, the fear I felt quickly disappeared once I saw you.”
Jungkook’s face lightens once again as he extends his hand towards hers. Rachel feels a shiver rush eagerly up her spine as he slips his fingers between her own, “You aren’t afraid of me now?”
Anyone else may have found it odd that Jungkook needed this type of reassurance so early in the evening but, he simply couldn’t relax until he knew that he wasn’t perceived as a threat. He is so used to putting on a tough persona and, even more used to people fearing him. He has grown quite tired of always needing to disarm himself.
Tightening her grip on his hand, she allows a playful smirk to etch across her lips, “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you in the middle of the forest if I was afraid of you. That would be quite foolish don’t you think?”
Jungkook’s teeth are brilliant as he grins, a breathless bit of laughter leaving his mouth, “Not unless you were some sort of thrill seeker…”
Sensing the bit of suggestion in his voice, she takes her chance and utters, “Those aren’t exactly the type of thrills I’m seeking…”
Jungkook feels his mouth dry up at her words but, before he has time to process any of it, she raises the basket once more, “These are getting cold.”
And ever the gentleman, he doesn’t comment on it but just as he did with the image of her lips, he stores her comment away.
For later.
The two of them begin eating and, Rachel watches on fondly as he shoves more than half of the dumplings in his mouth. She can tell he is doing his best to appear civilized but, Y/N did mention that they don’t eat proper meals very often so, his manners weren’t exactly in tip-top shape.
Rachel didn’t mind. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching him stuff himself. His cheeks puffed up adorably to accommodate the volume of dough he was shoving in them but, despite him wanting to eat the entire batch, he kept insisting on feeding her bites of food every 30 seconds or so.
During dinner, they talked about all sorts of things:
Rachel’s childhood, her work as an educator, her favorite seasons…
Jungkook wanted to learn it all.
He was fascinated by her entire existence.
However, after a certain amount of time, Rachel begins to notice how he continuously shifts the conversation back towards her. He doesn’t look uncomfortable when she asks him questions but, he keeps answering them as quickly as possible.
Finally, Rachel decides this theme has gone on long enough before she finally asks the one question that’s been on her mind all night.
“What led to you joining Yoongi’s battalion so early?”
Jungkook swallows the instant lump in his throat, “Uh well…it wasn’t hyung’s battalion yet when I first joined. We both went in together. He took over when he was about…” He thinks for second, “20 I think? So I would have been about 17. But we were both running in missions long before that.”
Rachel almost comments on the fact that he didn’t answer her question but, he beats her to it and, continues.
“Yoongi-hyung and I are brothers but, not by blood.” He begins, “His family took me in when I was 7.”
She can sense that he is about to tell her something quite serious so, she hesitates to ask any further questions; he would clarify if he was comfortable enough to do so.
“Hyung and I are from the same village. Our families had been neighbors for three generations until-“ He averts his eyes, preparing to tell the story that started it all, “we were attacked. Our village was destroyed by a raider clan. The first incident wasn’t so bad but, they came back and-“ Jungkook swallows the emotions that have balled up in his throat, “they decided that they weren’t after our valuables any longer; they were after blood.”
Rachel’s whole body is tense with the weight of his story, her mouth seemingly frozen in its slightly parted position as she tightens her grip on his hand.
“I still can’t comprehend it.” He breathes, shaking his head, “It wasn’t even like they were trying to recruit us or take us as laborers; they just wanted to create chaos.”
She can see the way his eyes are growing glossy and the way his breath seems to shorten and with her whole being, she expects to wipe his tears but, they never come.
“Our families tried to flee the village together but-“ He clears his throat, “my parents and I were shot by the enemy’s arrows. I remember seeing them go down in front of me and, then there was this horrible pain in my side. I tried to stay with them but, Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let me. He just threw me over his shoulder and ran. I still don’t know how he did it; he must have ran with me for hours before we made it to the next secure village.”
Still captivated by his story, Rachel runs his thumb over the backs of his knuckles to ensure that he knows she’s right there with him.
“I’m so sorry.” She whispers and, he offers a sad smile in return, squeezing her hand.
“Hyung told me many years later that the shots my parents received were fatal. There was no chance of rescue. But, for so long I believed I had abandoned them there. From then on, the only family I knew was Yoongi-hyung and, the parents he decided to share with me; He shared everything with me actually: his food, his clothes, his bed, his patience,” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “When the military council came for him, I panicked; we had been inseparable for so long. I couldn’t stand to see my hyung going off to war alone so,” At last the heavy emotions begin to lift from his face as a slight smirk comes over his lips, “I may have snuck out in the middle of the night and, followed him out…”
Rachel’s eyes widen, “You could have been killed!” She smacks his arm playfully which causes him to break out in a fit of laughter, “How on Earth did you manage that??? I’ve always heard they were so meticulous!”
Jungkook shrugs, somewhat smugly, “I fit in quite well. I was already taller than hyung at this age and, he and I had been training together since we were young.”
“What did he say when realized you had come along??? I’m surprised he didn’t send you home himself.”
He is chuckling again, his eyes lighting up fondly at the memory, “Oh he nearly killed me himself actually…he found me hiding out in a barn on the military camp and, it was truly the only time I’ve ever seen him that afraid. But once he was done lecturing me, we both decided it was safer for me to stay. Hyung was worried that I’d be punished if he turned me in to his general so, I passed as a volunteer. The rest is history…”
Rachel grins, overcome with fondness, “History indeed, especially the part when you became the youngest recruit to ever join the royal army.”
The faintest blush crosses his cheeks, “Well technically, the records will never reflect that, most people in our land believe hyung and I are the same age. I personally find this hard to understand as he clearly has so many more wrinkles than I do but-“ He shrugs again, “I suppose it works out.”
She smirks, “I suppose it does. I don’t know where the royal army would be without it’s Terror Cub…”
Jungkook groans, his face turned up in disgust, “I will haunt the historian who writes that name down in the books. Could they not have come up with something more menacing? Terror Cub? It sounds like a character in a children’s book…”
He is pouting profusely now and, Rachel decides that his adorable expression is far deadlier than any weapon he could wield.
She was simply powerless against it.
“I promise not to go blathering to any of our historians about it. If anyone asks, I will tell them you were the fiercest solider in all of the land.”
Jungkook’s heart swells with pride as he subconsciously puffs out his chest, “While you’re there please tell them of our involvement as well. I hope to be remembered for the pursuits of my heart rather than just my skills on the battlefield…”
Rachel’s lips twitch, “What exactly shall I tell them?”
His demeanor shifts slightly and, it's as if the sparkle in his eyes turns to lightening, “I think you should tell them that-” The distance between their lips seems to lessen almost subconsciously as Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, “our connection was medicinal, that it was almost as if we had been holding our breath until we finally found one another.”
Despite Jungkook’s words raising every hair upon Rachel’s skin, he seems to grow immediately nervous by his candid statement.
“That’s really excessive isn’t it? My hyungs always tell me that I should think before I-“
But he isn’t able to finish his sentence…
Rachel has closed the distance between them and, is pressing her lips against his own. Jungkook’s body stalls at the feeling and, he assumes the whole world stalls along with him.
For in this moment, there is nothing else but her lips.
Jungkook’s hands are unstable as they reach her cheeks and, he grimaces because he knows his palms are damp with the evidence of his nerves.
But Rachel doesn’t notice.
She can only sigh hopelessly into his mouth as the two of them deepen their kiss.
============================
The river welcomes you with open arms this evening. The chill of the oncoming fall season is no match for the thick woolen coat your mother made for you last year. Tonight, you are overcome with peace as you stroll along the embankment. You’ve always felt so much happiness around the river but ever since meeting Yoongi, the meaning of this piece of land has shifted and intensified.
He is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He’s wise and controlled but, he carries a type of wildness that is uniquely his own. The great and powerful Tiger: he is so much more than just a rumor. Even though you claimed to make your own judgements about things, you still expected Yoongi to be some sort of brut; an egotistic warrior at best or a bloody thirsty monster at worst.
But you had been wrong.
Yoongi was a man of great skill yes, quick like lightening and deadly like his feline persona but, his heart contained so much depth and so much warmth, that you found yourself drowning in it. The two of you hadn’t known each other long but, the emotions are already so strong. Your future with him is all you find yourself daydreaming about and, you can only hope that he is able to keep all of the promises he made to you.
The anxiety surrounding his departure strikes again, right in the middle of your heart.
You have half a mind to join his ranks or even stowaway amongst the new recruits…
Surely he wouldn’t notice if you wore a disguise, right?
The twigs snapping on the forest floor behind you remove you from your ridiculous plan as a smile immediately graces your face.
“You’re late.” You call, not bothering to turn around, “Did the recruits keep you tied up again?”
There is a bit of silence before a voice answers your question.
“I didn’t realize you were expecting me- although it doesn’t surprise me that Yoongi’s plaything would have a heightened sense of awareness…” The voice is unfamiliar and, it causes your blood to run cold, “…given that she’s canoodling with a monster.”
It all happens so quickly.
Just as you’re about to turn towards the voice, a burly arm is wrapping around your neck. Gasping for air, your hands immediately fly up to claw at your attacker’s forearm.
Panic is rushing through you, your feet kicking around as he attempts to drag you backwards into the trees.
“You really shouldn’t be out in the dark by yourself, pretty.” He snarls into your ear, his breath reeking of alcohol, “There are a lot of maniacs out here…”
You can feel yourself losing consciousness as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your fingernails are desperately digging into his skin, trying to cause him any discomfort that you can.
“I want to see the look on his face-“ Your assailant cackles, “I want to see his reaction to your cold body laying in the place where you first kissed…He thinks he’s strong but-“
You hear him gasp for breath as an unknown force seemingly knocks it out of him. When he releases his grip on your neck, you frantically suck in the air around you, wincing as you fall to your knees.
In your attempt to distance yourself you scramble up against the nearest tree and, just as you’re about to scream for help, you realize that you’re not alone.
A golden dagger sticks out of your attacker’s shoulder as he attempts to get away from the one who threw it: Yoongi.
“Stay right there.” He calls to you gently, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
You are still reeling from nearly being choked to death but, you listen to his command, nonetheless. The man on the floor is dressed in the colors of the royal army and, you gather that he belongs to Yoongi’s battalion- or at least he pretended to.
Yoongi catches him by the hair as he drags him up to his knees. The man is spluttering from the pain, his brows drawn in tightly as he struggles against Yoongi’s grip.
“Do you remember the lesson from this morning, rat?” He ventures, his voice casual and icy cold.
“Y-yes sir…”
Yoongi rips his hair back again so the tip of his nose is facing the sky, “What was it?”
“Ah!” He groans, his hands balling up at his sides, “N-necessities, sir.”
“Necessities- very good.” Yoongi would sound like he was praising him if it weren’t for the heartless smirk painted across his lips. “Now, would you say your head was a necessity?”
As Yoongi asks his question, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and presses the blade to the man’s throat.
“Yes!” The man practically yelps, his body freezing beneath Yoongi’s grip, “Yes, sir! Very necessary, sir!”
You can’t help but watch in complete shock. There is a part of you that knows Yoongi would never kill someone in front of you but, the way the light has drained from his eyes is forcing you to doubt yourself.
“Oh is it now? What about your throat?”
Yoongi’s expression barely shifts but, you can literally feel the fury emanating off of his figure as he presses the blade further into his skin. Ruby red blood barely peeks out of the man’s skin as he whimpers.
“Yes-“ He chokes out, “It’s necessary! Please! They told me to kill her, I’m just the middleman! If you spare me, I promise I will tell you everything just-“
Yoongi stalls his movements, his eyes flashing towards you for a moment before yanking his head back again, “Who is they?”
Through another pained groan, the man spits out his answer, “The Meddleways sir.”
Although unfamiliar to you, the name seems to affect Yoongi greatly. However, he quickly composes himself and pulls the man upwards by his hair, “Stand up.”
Wincing, the man rushes to his feet, his hands lingering out in front of him with uncertainty.
With his lips curled beneath his fury, Yoongi offers one last eerily calm sentiment in the man's ear, “You are very lucky that I am in the presence of a lady. Had I come across you on my own-” He stops himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting the storm inside of him before continuing, “I will put you with your leader after my men are done questioning you. From there, you will make the journey to your trial and, whilst you are on your way- please be sure to thank whatever god you believe in that I am not the one tasked with your punishment.”
Yoongi’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s like a glacier, cold and enormous but, slow moving. It seems to inch into the man’s subconscious as he cowers beneath him.
“Do you understand?” Yoongi confirms to which the man nods immediately, “Good.”
With that final word, he rips the dagger out of the man's shoulder. His yelp is cut short by the handle of said dagger as Yoongi whacks it against the side of his head. The man falls to the ground unceremoniously, his body going limp for the time being.
The events that have transpired, leave you frozen against the bark of your favorite willow tree. Yoongi seems to know something you don’t and, you can’t fight your instinct to ask questions.
“Do you know him?”
Your voice seems to pull Yoongi away from his urges and back to reality. In an instant, he is rushing over to you, his cold gaze defrosting slightly as he assesses your wellbeing.
“Did he touch you?” He mutters, his fingers on the end of your chin, tilting your head to the side.
“Well, he was choking me but-”
Yoongi glowers, his nostrils flaring slightly, “Did he touch you?”
The way he emphasizes the word ‘touch’ gives you the hint that Yoongi is referring to whether or not he violated you.
“No...” You whisper, allowing your fingers to brush against his cheek, “He was only on me for a moment before you found us.”
Yoongi deflates under your touch but, to say that he relaxed would be an overstatement. In fact, it's safe to say that he has never been more tense in his entire life.
“Are you hurt?” His voice breaks at the end as he swallows back his emotions. Before you’re able to answer, Yoongi’s eyes light up with quiet rage all over again, “Your neck- it's going to bruise-”
“Hey-” You coax his gaze up to yours, “I’m safe. You saved me and, I’m safe.”
Your words unfortunately do nothing for him but, he doesn’t want to center this interaction around his fear. Instead, he simply nods and places a tense kiss to the center of your forehead before nodding to the limp figure behind him.
“I need to take him back to the compound, Namjoon and Jimin will get out any information he has. In the meantime, I need you to stay away from here. In fact, don’t go anywhere alone after sunset- not until I can assess the-”
“Let me come with you. I want to know what’s going on-”
Yoongi shakes his head, “No. It’s too dangerous to have you on the compound right now. My entire battalion may be compromised.”
“But Yoongi-”
His eyes grow cold again, “This is not a discussion. A civilian has no place in these matters.”
With his words, he drops his grip on you but just before he steps back, you are shooting a glare his direction.
“Civilian? Is that what you call me now, Min Yoongi?”
Using his full name would be considered disrespectful if the two of you didn’t know each other the way you do but, it still feels foreign coming out of your mouth.
Yoongi technically has authority over you and your entire village. If he wanted to, he could order you to do anything he wishes. Yoongi never exercises his power this way but, he is so overcome with fear that he wants to do anything to protect you. “You know that isn’t what I was implying. Don’t twist my words.”
“Then please feel free to untwist them for me. That term comes with a loaded meaning, and you know it...”
The tension clings in the air between you like moss to a tree. It’s uncomfortable and more importantly, unfamiliar. Yoongi stares you down, his hardened gaze wavering as the seconds pass. His eyes trace each feature of your face with desperation, seeking to memorize your current expression and, not because he is particularly fond of it but, merely because it belongs to you.
Yoongi’s future is not guaranteed and, therefore- neither is his life with you.
So he must memorize it all.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He concedes, his features softening, “I just need some time to sort through my men. I won’t deny your request for information but, I have to gather it first. I am asking you to stay away until then and, its only because I fear for your safety- not because I don’t regard you as my equal.”
His words gnaw at your guard until it disappears and, suddenly you wish to be in his arms. You know both of your reactions came from a place of fear as its woefully unlike the two of you to misunderstand one another.
“I’m scared.” You whisper, “I don’t want to leave your side.”
Yoongi’s heart breaks at the worry written on your beautiful face and, he loathes the unconscious man beside him even more for making you feel this way.
“Come here,” He reaches a hand out towards you and, as soon as you take it, he is pulling you against him. He places a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. When he feels your fingers curl into fists around the fabric of his tunic, his eyes squeeze shut.
He is terrified.
“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, do you understand?” He murmurs, his voice unstable, “I will protect you with my life and, gladly lay it down for your own.”
All you do is nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “But you’re going to leave me...”
And for this Yoongi has no response.
Because he will protect you yes, but he will never lie to you.
He is going to leave you and, it will be much sooner than he had planned; there is no use in training the recruits now- as far as he is concerned, they have all gone bad.
“Only my body will leave you.” He answers with another kiss to your head, “The rest of me is bound to you forever.”
----------------------------------------------------
It’s been nearly a day since you’ve seen Yoongi.
After he tied your attacker to a tree, he walked you back home and, fetched the rest of the men for reinforcements.
You have yet to see the man since Yoongi disarmed him but, more importantly, you hadn’t seen any of the battalion.
It was as if they had disappeared overnight.
The only indication of their presence was their horses roaming around the compound. The rest of the men were seemingly confined to their tents, a tactic likely used by the leaders to ensure they kept track of everyone whilst they interrogated the wayward recruit.
But still, it was unnerving.
It gave you another glimpse at what your world would look like very soon. Your life had changed so drastically since Yoongi’s arrival and, you simply weren’t ready to move throughout your day without the promise of meeting him by the river.
But you had to be ready.
You had to be ready a lot sooner than you anticipated.
The day had moved like slugs along the riverbank after the summer heat has dried up parts of its shoreline. Despite the nerves brewing within you and the ache of anticipation all over your body, the clocktower stared back at you defiantly, refusing to move.
Yoongi promised you he would come to your house as soon as he had the information he needed but, you weren’t planning on waiting for him any longer.
It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you were attacked and, without answers, you slowly felt yourself going insane with impatience. Once your wares were packed up and taken home, you strode with determination to the makeshift compound.
Still appearing to be deserted, you don’t have any clues as to which tent to start with first. You opt for the one that the seven men usually stay in and as you approach it, you desperately wish you were here delivering bread.
The illusion of simplicity had been shattered. You were being courted by the leader of the Royal Army and because of this, nothing was never simple to begin with.
You felt foolish for believing otherwise.
Before you’re able to ring the bell outside of the tent, you are met with Yoongi rushing from the opening, still dressed in the same clothes he wore the night prior. Dark rings of exhaustion are positioned around the sockets of his eyes and, his lips look as though they haven’t had a sip of water all day.
He is beautiful but, he looks like hell.
“I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to come looking over you-” He smiles but, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he offers his arm and jerks his chin towards the trees, “Walk with me?”
This can’t be good.
You nod, interlocking your arm with his and, taking a moment to relish the warmth that still ebbs and flows from him. Even with the gnawing monster of the unknown staring daggers at you in the distance, you feel safe with him.
“Did he keep his promise?” You ask him as the two of you step into the forest. The light shining through the trees is painted the same color as the sunset on the mountains and, if this were a normal meeting between the two of you, you would have admired it. However, the only thing you can focus on is what Yoongi has yet to tell you.
“He did,” He nods.
The promise, of course, refers to the attacker vowing to tell Yoongi anything he wanted to know if he decided to spare his life.
“And?” You cock your head, trying to catch his gaze that seems to be fixated upon the dirt beneath your feet.
If only you knew that he was actually staring at the way your dress billows in the wind, the way the shadows from the leaves bounce off the soft skin of your ankles...
He must memorize it all.
“I have to leave...” He finally says, looking up at you, “...tonight.”
The news is reasonable but, it feels like a cruel joke. You have half a mind to deny him, to lash out and, scold him for toying with you in such a way.
But Yoongi would never lie to you.
Ever.
“Tonight.” You whisper, swallowing the bitter flavor of the word. And almost involuntarily, your hands are curling gently around his forearms in protest, “Why tonight?”
Yoongi can quite literally taste the pain in your voice and, it sickens him; it sickens him because, there is nothing he can do about it.
He leaves his arms in place for you to touch however you want, thoroughly shocked that the desire still manages to coil in his stomach even in the face of such sadness.
“The man who gave me this scar on my face was the leader of a cruel wayward group known as the Meddleways. Years ago, after Namjoon successfully lead them to our army, the leader and I fought to the death. Xansa, was his name. It was the closest I had ever come to losing my life.” Yoongi almost smiles as he feels your grip on him tighten but, he opts for gently caressing beneath your elbows instead, “This group, they had plans to attack the Queen’s capital and assassinate the people who lived there. After the death of their leader however, many of them came to our side- claiming that they were held against their will. There were a small number who escaped and, I foolishly assumed they would dissolve.”
You look up at the scar he speaks of, gazing at the angry strip of marred flesh running down the center of his right eye. In complete silence, you reach up and trace your index finger along the shape of it, letting out a shaky sigh at the thought of someone causing him pain.
“They haven’t.” You conclude whilst Yoongi closes his eyes beneath your touch, “Have they?”
He simply shakes his head as his hands secure themselves round your waist. His eyes stay shut even when you move your hand from his scar to cup his cheek. The skin there is splotchy from the evening breeze and, surprisingly soft. You almost think to question it but, Yoongi is already answering your silent observation.
“Your salve.” He chuckles as his beautiful eyes finally open, “It would be swept up by the people of the capital in no time; it’s a miracle in a tin.”
Allowing just a moment of reprieve, your mind drifts to the not-so-distant future, “Shall I make a career there then? I imagine if you’re retiring, I will be the one providing for us.”
A bit of ego flashes through Yoongi’s eyes, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, “My villa is nowhere near the capital. And as for providing for us, I am pleased to inform you that I have enough gold from my military service to last us several lifetimes.”
Good, you think, one lifetime together wouldn’t be enough anyhow.
“Am I to be a housewife then?” You arch your brow, throwing an unimpressed but playful glance his way.
Yoongi smirks, “You are to be whatever you wish. It’s just worth noting that I have the means to take care of us both. Although, I will admit that whilst my retirement will hardly be noticed as there is already someone taking my place, if you chose to retire now that- that would have some dire consequences.”
His compliment, however silly, makes you giggle as you roll your eyes, “Your logic is insanely flawed my dear general however, I will accept your flattery nonetheless.”
Your laughter soothes the rawness in Yoongi’s heart, even if it’s just for a moment. He follows suit, unable to help the small bout of laughter that leaves his lips. But before long, you two seem to settle back into the solemnity of the moment and, you’re asking:
“There after you...aren’t they?”
Yoongi is nodding, his brows drawn tightly together whilst he murmurs, “They are coming for me now. My battalion and I must reconvene and cut them off before they attack here. Xansa is dead but, according to the man who attacked you, there is a new leader, Xansa’s brother. Their objective remains the same: they wish to destroy the peace the Queen’s have built and, exploit the land and it’s people for power.”
To know that not only is Yoongi tasked with defending the lands from violence, but also that he is being targeted specifically, frightens you beyond belief.
“Why can’t you stay hidden? My family will hide you; you could blend in here until they are defeated, I know it isn’t ideal but-” You sound panicked now and, it breaks Yoongi’s heart that he must deny you any reprieve.
“Darling,” He cups your face, his own bottomless gaze searching yours, “There is only one place in the world where I can truly hide. And someday,” A calloused thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “I will take you there and, we will live out the rest of our lives. But as of now, anywhere I go- weak minded men will follow, desperate to prove their idea of strength. My head is a trophy to all men who are poisoned by their masculinity.”
“Your head is not a trophy,” You protest but your voice barely reaches above a whisper, weakened by your own despair. For the last time it seems, you brush your fingers against his skin- electrocuted by the sensation, “and you are so much more than the rumors that follow you. So much more...”
Yoongi has to summon all the strength within him to keep his emotions at bay, not wanting to break down in front of you. Instead, he silently brings your lips to his and, presses the softest kiss to your mouth.
He pours everything he wish he had time to say into it, his breathing picking up slightly as you return the passion with everything you have.
The two of you know you have to break it off, especially as you hear the compound finally come to life beside you; they were preparing to leave.
With foreheads pressed together, you are the first one who speaks with bated breath, “Promise you’ll come back to me...”
His hands are on either side of your face now as he centers your focus on his eyes. You had yet to see such silent determination within them since you met and for the moment, it convinces you that his word is golden.
“I will crawl back to you if I have to.”
When you part, you gather that most of Yoongi’s men have already left. It appears that only the main unit and, a group of thirty or so remain in the compound.
“Hyung!” Hoseok calls from the front of the tent, his normally bright expression full of contempt, “It’s time.”
You detest how well their readiness to leave coincides with the end of your conversation but, it almost feels easier this way. Being unable to anticipate the exact point of Yoongi’s departure has allowed you to be suspended in ignorant bliss.
The pain isn’t as drawn out.
Yoongi returns his statement with a tight nod before, turning his attention back to you for the last time.
With all the power in him, he musters up a type of promise one can only convey with their eyes and says, “I’ll meet you back at the river...” He swallows around all of the words he wishes to utter but, with a delicate brush to your cheek, he leaves you with only two, “...my love.”
And suddenly, the world between you is massive once again.
Suddenly, he is a thousand miles from you even though he only moves a few yards away.
You feel frozen in place almost, your cheek burning with the remains of his touch as you try to catch the breath his words stole from you.
Is this really it?
The last guaranteed moments of your incredible connection with a man you could only dream about- is this truly how they end?
You’re standing there longer than you realize because, the next thing you know, you hear the whinny of the last horses and, the sharp commands of Jin’s voice.
Spinning around, you aren’t thinking clearly as you sprint towards the group of men beginning to ride away into the forest.
“General Min!”
You are surprised at how well your voice carries over the noise and, out of the group pops Yoongi riding on the back of a black stallion.
With his gold sword attached to his hip and, his capable hands controlling the reigns, Yoongi brings the movements of his horse to a stop.
“Don’t be late.” You call to him, fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. But despite the tears, you are smiling- offering some semblance of hope to the two of you.
He chuckles, bowing his head towards you, eyes outlined in red, “Yes ma’am.”
Then he is gone.
And with him goes all of your steam for the time being.
It’s as though the energy has been pulled away from you, leaving you sullen and exhausted regardless of how much rest you’re able to get.
The weeks without Yoongi begin with nightmares. The one you had just before he left seems to haunt your subconscious day in and day out. It’s as if your brain were torturing you with worst case scenarios, preparing you for a world without him.
Without Yoongi.
The night the battalion left, you rushed over to Rachels and, upon her opening her door, you simply collapsed into her arms.
With your head on her shoulder, the two of you cried together. You hated the fact that she understood the pain you were in but, you were happy to have someone relate to.
She understood.
To live such an ordinary life one day, only to fall for a mysterious stranger the next…
And then to have that stranger seem so familiar, to connect so deeply with someone you haven’t known for very long and, then having to say goodbye…
It was a very specific type of pain and, your best friend knew exactly what the sting felt like.
Nearly a month of this passes before you receive something that has your monotone soul seeing color once again: a letter from Yoongi.
A young man, who identifies himself as a royal messenger, shows up at your door with a tightly wrapped piece of parchment that contains enough hope to keep you going for the foreseeable future. This young messenger explains that he was commissioned by the “the Royal General” to deliver two letters to this village every month until his return.
Two letters meaning, one to you and of course, one to the beloved schoolteacher next door.
The thought of Rachel getting to hear from Jungkook makes your heart sing.
Trying to contain the tears in your eyes, you thank the messenger profusely before practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back to your bedroom. You waste no time in removing the protective fabric from the letter, your shaky hands nearly ripping the corner of the parchment.
Y/N,
I know we didn’t discuss writing to one another but, I couldn’t handle not contacting you in some way. Thankfully, I’m privileged enough to have access to the royal messengers and, they have promised me they would deliver my letters until I return. Are you staying healthy? I know how cold it must be getting where you live. Please reassure me that you’re staying warm so, I can stop obsessing over it.
Our men have been successful so far. We’ve encountered many obstacles but, we have the strategies to hold our own. Most of my days have been spent working on a pathway out of this mess but, we have been unable to find the new leaders of the Meddleways. The Queens are aware and have sent reinforcements but, we still have a long way to go.
Not to worry, I still plan on keeping my promises to you. It’s the only thing that keeps me alert most of the day as I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I’d like to. Our time at the river spoiled me, I didn’t realize how much energy I was getting from your lips. Sleep depravity meant nothing when I was with you.
Yours,
Yoongi.
By the time you finish the letter, a teardrop is regretfully staining the center of the page. Frantically, you wipe it from the parchment before it’s able to blur the ink placed there by your lover. The indents from his lettering are the only piece of him you have so, you press your fingers to the page in an effort to feel closer to him.
Over and over, you read the words he wrote, overcome with gratitude that he would go to such lengths to have this message delivered to you. By the time you’ve read it for the tenth time, your mother is calling you from the other room, signaling supper is ready.
You have no interest in eating at this moment but, you know that family dinners aren’t something you’ll be able to enjoy once Yoongi returns. So, you decide to file your thoughts away for later and join your parents in the main room.
The meal your mother prepared takes a lot of time and effort so, you insist on cleaning up after the three of you finish eating and, send your parents to bed early. They work so hard and, deserve all of the rest in the world.
After cleaning up the kitchen, you eagerly return to your room to draft your response to Yoongi.
General Min,
I am pleased to report that I have not one but, two woolen blankets at my disposal. You can put your obsessions regarding my warmth to rest for the time being. Other than missing you, my health has kept up just fine since you left. The village is preparing for a rainy season as we do every year but, I’m actually quite excited for the storms.
It’s good to know the Queens are supporting your mission as I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to track down such a volatile group. Nevertheless, my faith in your abilities is still strong. If anyone were able to apprehend them, it would be you. In regard to your sleep deprivation, I can only offer you my energy from afar. I visit the river every night since you’ve been gone and, I find myself leaning against our tree, wishing that it was you who was pressing me into it.
Continue to think of my lips, General. They will be all over you before you know it.
I cannot wait to hear from you again,
Y/N
A smirk is on your lips as you seal your letter with melted wax, hoping that your wayward tongue motivates him to keep going. The promise of finally being able to consummate your passion for one another burns brightly within you and, you can only hope he will feel the same.
The messenger had explained to you that he would return for your letter in the morning as he had other deliveries in the area. That night, you slept particularly well and, for once you were able to dream of something peaceful.
As promised, the man returns to your home the next morning to collect your letter and with a tip of his hat, he assures you that he will return the same time next month.
And he certainly does but, it seemingly comes at the cost of said month dragging on endlessly. However, when the messenger shows up at your home, you are quick to forget the last four weeks and, instead just focus on the small piece of Yoongi waiting for you. Before the boy continues on, a nagging question enters your mind and, you are stopping him before he reaches Rachel’s house.
“Excuse me, I hate to pry but, have you been in contact with the general at all?”
He offers a small smile as he shakes his head, “No, ma’am. The general leaves his letters at one of my many posts throughout this land. I met with him only once but, he specifically instructed me not to come looking for him if he didn’t leave anything for me to deliver; he said it was too dangerous.”
This frightens you as it comes ripened with the devastating possibility of Yoongi being incapacitated in some way. Of course it isn’t the man’s intention to worry you and rather than unloading all your anxieties onto him, you merely smile back and thank him for his time.
Before he knocks on Rachel’s door, you also learn his name and, silently scold yourself for not thinking to do so sooner.
He tells you his name is Hyunjin and, expresses his gratitude for your business before leaving you alone to read your letter.
Y/N,
I am trying to find the words to properly convey how many times I re-read your letter and, all of the ways I managed to use it, without sounding crude, but then I remembered that my Y/N doesn’t really care much for decency does she? So I shall be candid for once…
It’s very late when I’m writing my response and, I am overwhelmed with my desire for you. It’s quite sickening actually. I feel lightheaded when I think of us alone together.
Never in my entire life have I wanted someone so badly.
I wish I could see you somehow. Jungkook draws pictures of Rachel on every surface he can but, I don’t possess the artistic abilities he does. My attempts to draw you would be insulting. Although, I wouldn’t commission anyone to illustrate you either; They would mess it up somehow.
How has your month been? Are you still baking bread as often now that my greedy battalion is away?
Yours,
Yoongi
You are immediately transported back to your schoolyard days as you squeal into your bedsheets at his confessions. Yoongi truly had a way of saying everything you needed to hear in only a few words. More notably, he had a way of speaking so passionately; it took your breath away.
Feeling full of unbridled optimism, you pull out a fresh piece of parchment and your ink to begin drafting your response to him.
General Min,
I can’t help but wish you had been a bit cruder. Next time, feel free to include all of the way you used my words; it would comfort me to know that I am tending to your needs from so far away.
It seems as though you and I share the same illness. I can’t help but, think of you in the same light every evening when I’m trying to sleep. I only wish I was able to dream of you the same way, I’m certain I would wake up feeling much more rested.
Are there any updates on your progress? It’s been three months and, yet I feel as though it’s been twice as long. Are you feeling alright? Are you able to find adequate shelter?
I’m sorry for the interrogation but, I can’t help myself when I begin worrying about you.
Tell Jungkook that Rachel draws him as well. Every time I visit her at home, she is shoving one of her pictures into dress pocket. She thinks I don’t notice but, I most certainly do.
What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know when she was in love?
In regards to the bread, I am baking slightly less than I was before but, I still find myself adding in extra ingredients for you all every now and then.
I’ve gone on long enough but, I still have so much more to say.
Just know, I miss you terribly.
Love,
Y/N
Hyunjin returns again the following morning and, graciously accepts your letter before heading on his way. When you hand him the parchment full of late night confessions, you truly think nothing of it.
Despite the longing you felt for Yoongi, you had grown used to looking forward to his letters. In a way, it was almost as if he were much closer than he actually was. The letters made you feel like he were writing to you from the capital while he was away on business rather than out in the middle of the battlefield.
But that didn’t change the reality.
Yoongi was out in the battlefield and, things were growing far more complicated than he was letting on.
“Hyung, we can’t keep evading their fire. They are going to catch up to us eventually.”
Yoongi has been trying to write his response to you for over an hour and, every time he sits down to do so- he is interrupted.
This time, the interruption comes from Hoseok who stumbles into the tent, sore from yesterday’s battle.
“Yes they will,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and when they do, we will lead them to the outskirts of the capital where the Queen’s have established reinforcements.”
“Aren’t you worried they will strike before then? We have already lost-“
Yoongi interrupts him now, trying his best to control the frustration and pain in his tone, “I am aware. I write down every single one of their names. That does not change my plan. We will not engage unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want to see another village go down beneath our fire.”
Hoseok is dissatisfied with his answer but, he knows better than to question Yoongi when he is like this.
“What is our plan for tomorrow, hyung? Are we moving to a new area?” Jimin asks quietly, his tired eyes barely lingering open as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. His head is positioned in Jimin’s lap whilst his injured body tries to recuperate; everyone was losing their steam. “I don’t know if Taehyung should be travelling right now. He might have to ride on the back of my horse if we must move on…”
Yoongi’s chest tightens as he sees the state of his men.
The most prestigious army is now littered with bruises and open wounds. There isn’t a single muscle in their bodies that doesn’t feel strained or damaged in some way and, he doesn’t even remember the last time they had a proper meal.
Clutching his quill in his fist, he nods solemnly at Jimin’s comment, “You are probably right. I will walk the perimeter with the rest of our men tonight before bed and if all is clear, he can camp out an extra day whilst he heals.”
Jimin offers a small smile in return that only just reaches his eyes, “Thank you, hyung.”
He nods tightly, adjusting the grip on his quill before continuing to write; he has so much he wants to tell you. He wants to cry out to you in his letter but, he doesn’t want to worry you. Instead, he’d rather pretend like everything is alright, like the two of you are merely star-crossed lovers sneaking around after dark and, writing in code to communicate with one another without being caught.
He wants to pretend like he is anyone else but most of all, he wishes to pretend to be the man he promised you he would be.
But, he won’t lie to you.
He can’t.
Y/N,
This might be the last time you hear from me for a while. Things are growing extremely difficult for my men and I. We must now focus all of our efforts on making it to the outskirts of the capital safely so, that we have the reinforcements we need.
My entire body aches for you, Y/N. There is no comfort for me aside from your letters.
And as much as it pains me to say it, I am beginning to fear that I might not make it home to you. I have yet to express this to my men because, I don’t want to worry them. I just don’t know what our future holds anymore.
We have sustained so many losses.
I don’t want to worry you either but, I am only doing so because, I need you to know something. My need for you to understand this overcomes my need to make you comfortable.
I love
BANG.
With a flash of fire, the tent Yoongi resides in is quickly overwhelmed with chaos.
And as he hears the desperate calls of his men, he knows he has no choice but to abandon his words to you and, fight.
Or else he and his men are doomed.
---------------------------------------
There wasn’t a particular day Hyunjin arrived but, you did expect him to come some time during the middle of the month. However, the middle of the month comes and goes without a word from him and, while you find this to be quite odd, you chose to think nothing of it.
Yoongi was in the middle of a lengthy mission, it was a miracle you had been able to hear from him as much as you did.
However, when the second month passes without word from him- you begin to feel the tidal wave of panic swelling inside of you.
You feel idiotic for getting sucked into the romance of letter writing. It had convinced you, only for a moment, that there was nothing at stake.
But this couldn’t be further from the truth.
Everything was on the line.
How could you lessen your vigilance?
Yoongi could very well be in a grave danger somewhere and, you would never know.
Does he have arrangements for such a thing?
Did he consider this?
Of course he did, you think, as you begin to choke back your tears.
He has seen more carnage than you could ever imagine; he most certainly thought of informing you of his passing.
So maybe this is a sign to be hopeful.
Maybe this means that he is merely stuck somewhere or far too busy to send letters.
With an almost delusional sense of certainty, you furiously wipe your hand across your face and, try to gather yourself.
Today was a busier day at the market so, you desperately hoped things would move quickly.
For once, you are lucky enough to have your wish granted.
The next month however, isn’t so merciful.
Every day is the same. You wake up, try to muster up a smile, pack your wares and sell in the plaza. You bring Rachel her snacks and, the two of you eat in silence before it becomes too much and, you both end up crying.
She hasn’t heard from Jungkook either.
It’s been three months and, you have heard nothing about the whereabouts of the men you intended to be with for the rest of your lives. It’s as if the world is turned upside down and, you spend the majority of your time thinking the worst.
The next morning however, you are granted the briefest moment of respite when Hyunjin knocks at your door. You barely manage to pull on your coat when you yank open the door and, beam at his presence.
“Thank goodness, I was so worried-“ You are cheering for only a second until you catch a glimpse of his expression.
“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you but, I felt it was my duty to give you an update on the General…”
Your blood is cold and still within your veins and, the sickening feeling of grief begins crawling its way through your senses.
“We haven’t heard from his battalion for months now. The Queens have sent out a league of experts to find them but, we have yet to-“ He swallows back his nerves as he sees the look on your face, “-we have yet to be successful.”
The tears are unstoppable as they quickly flood the sockets of your eyes. Your hand feels clammy whilst it grips your door frame, your whole body growing numb with each word he utters.
“This doesn’t mean the worst, ma’am. The Tiger’s army is well known for disappearing like this, it’s part of their strategy. I just didn’t want you to be left wondering why I didn’t return. When I went to the postal location, nothing was waiting for me.”
With a shaky and unrecognizable voice, you ask, “Not from Jungkook either?”
He frowns, looking at you with pity, “Nothing, ma’am. There are normally hundreds of letters for me to deliver and, I didn’t find a single one.”
Regardless of his attempt to comfort you, you knew exactly what this meant: something was horribly wrong.
You couldn’t even manage to think of the word but, all of your terrifying nightmares containing Yoongi begin to flood your subconscious. It's all you can think about now.
“I promise to update you as soon as I hear from them, ma’am.” Hyunjin feels immensely uncomfortable delivering this news and, he is eager to return home as quickly as possible.
All you can manage is a nod before you robotically begin closing your door, “Thank you, Hyunjin.”
Thankfully, your parents are out for the day so, you’re able to shut the door quietly before sliding against it, allowing a broken sob to leave your lips.
You knew in your heart that the likelihood of Yoongi and his battalion being safe was next to nothing. The lack of his letters had been evidence enough but, you wanted to remain hopeful, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just busy.
But you were lying to yourself.
Cupping your hand around your mouth, you let out all of the emotion you couldn’t relinquish in front of Hyunjin. Your eyes burn as your tears stain your cheeks, your lips parted in a silent scream. With your body shaking, you cry for the life you were never able to have and, for the man you were never able to love.
That evening, your mother helps you into bed. She understands when you refuse supper even though she made your favorite. She lets you cry in her lap like you did when you were a little girl only this time, you weren’t crying over schoolyard bullies.
You don’t leave your bed for two weeks. The only time you have contact with anyone other than your parents is when Rachel finally decides to drop by to check on you. Of course, the feeling had been mutual and, just as you had before, the two of you spend most of your time crying together.
Once she decides to leave, you are once again left alone with your thoughts, all of which are of Yoongi. Today in particular, you are remembering his hands and, the first time you intertwined fingers.
“Why are you looking at my hands?” You had asked him
“Because I want to hold them.”
His voice echoes in your mind now as fresh tears find their way out of your eyes for the millionth time and, it’s this memory that prompts you to visit the river.
You hadn’t been back since Hyunjin came to deliver the news. The thought of going there alone sent a deep sadness through you but, part of you felt like it might be a good idea.
If you were to ever truly mourn him properly, you would have to grieve every piece of your time together.
Wrapping yourself up in your winter coat, you make the short journey towards a place you once called your favorite spot in the world. At first, it was because of the inner peace it had brought you but once Yoongi came into the picture, it took on a whole new meaning.
The rain had stopped hours ago so other than a bit of extra mud and a much colder breeze, the river looked just as it did during the summer.
Securing your coat tighter around yourself, you sniffle whilst looking out towards the river. The palette of the sunset is reflecting off the water and, bouncing against the ground beneath your feet. If it had been under any other circumstances, you would have felt content here. You would be collecting herbs, humming to yourself, speaking with the forest creatures- despite their lack of understanding you but...
Most importantly, you would be waiting for Yoongi.
The thought once again causes you to cry as your brain tries to conceptualize a world without him.
It seems so impossible.
...
“So- is this where the tree bark grows?”
Your eyes widen and you turn around so quickly you nearly fall over. As if out of a fairytale, General Min Yoongi stands just beneath the entrance to the river, dressed head to toe in his strongest armor. His hair is slightly messy and framing either side of his face and his mouth is portraying a brilliant smile.
He’s alive.
You’re crying harder now, frozen in place as you call to him, playing out the first time you two met here,
“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...”
If you aren’t mistaken, you see him sniffle as the smile on his face only grows, “I’m sorry, I’m late ma’am...”
His voice breaks at the end and the next thing you know, you are running. Opening his arms, he braces himself for you and, as you crash into him- he uses all of his strength to lift you off the ground. Spinning in a circle, he chuckles fondly when you start placing kisses anywhere you can reach: his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead, his chin...
It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him.
“You bastard!” You cry to him which only causes him to laugh harder, “I thought you were dead I- I thought you were...”
He stops spinning as his gloved hands come up to cup your face, his eyes wet with the slightest evidence of tears, “Shhh I know, I’m so sorry- I tried everything to reach you but, it wasn’t safe...”
You’re shaking your head, your hands coming up to rest over his, needing to feel every part of him, “It doesn’t matter- you're here now.” You say the phrase but then suddenly, you are overcome with a sickening feeling. What if you were just imagining this? What if you had simply dreamed of him? With a desperate glance, you press your hands into his harder, searching his eyes, “You are here aren’t you? Like- you're really here? You came back to me?”
Yoongi’s expression crumbles, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “I am, my love. I am here- this is the only place I know now.”
Sniffling again, you lean in towards his lips, your mind completely fuzzy with emotion, “Show me, show me you’re here.”
He takes the hint, closing the distance between you and, tucking his mouth into yours. It’s a much harder kiss than you’re expecting but, you relish in it nonetheless. Yoongi’s lips taste like medicine to you, all of your pain melting away beneath his touch. He sighs shakily as he presses your body into the cool steel of his armor, slightly wishing that he had been able to wash up before coming to see you.
It’s been a long journey.
“You’re here...” You whisper into the kiss, your hands tracing over his features, “You kept your promise...”
Yoongi is nodding, pecking at your lips over and over again, “I told you I would crawl didn’t I?” When you nod, he continues, “Well I crawled, darling. I crawled all the way back to you...”
You pull back slightly, unable to get enough of his face, your fingers coming up to brush the hair from his face. Elated, you laugh breathlessly, a smile burned onto your mouth.
“You will never have to crawl again, General Min. It is now my life-long mission to make sure you are in a warm bed with a full belly for the rest of your life.”
Yoongi beams at your sentiment, his eyes lighting up along with his grin whilst his hands slide down your body before settling on your hips, “I love you.”
There it is.
Those three little words that have been etched in your mind for longer than they should have been.
Gripping his face between your palms, you are bringing his mouth down towards you once again, “I love you too.”
After much more kissing, Yoongi mentions that he hasn’t eaten properly in quite a while and, that he has a few things to discuss with you before you can leave with him. You insist that he can use your family’s bathing area to wash up and, that you will pick up clothes for him in the plaza; the armor he’s wearing looks incredibly uncomfortable.
The two of you decide to visit the local tavern as it will be a good place for Yoongi to eat and, update you on what’s going on. He does specifically mention however, that he doesn’t want to speak of what he’s just been through. He only assures you that all six of his leaders survived and, that the Meddleways had been apprehended. He promises you that he will tell you stories from the mission later down the line but for now, he only wishes to speak about your future together.
However, there is one question that’s been nagging at you since he arrived that is slightly off-topic.
“Is Jungkook here?” You take your seat at the table across from him, slightly hating how far apart the two of you are.
Yoongi grins, a bit of fondness in his eyes, “He wouldn’t even wait for me to get out of the chariot before he was already sprinting like a mad man towards her home.”
You feel overjoyed at the thought of how your best friend’s day is going. The grief hit the two of the same way so, you hope she is feeling all of the happiness you felt when you realized the man you loved returned home.
“Are the four of us riding in the chariot together then? You might need to stay in town for a few days if that’s the case- I can throw all of my worldly possessions into a trunk but, Rachel would need more time to prepare.”
Yoongi reaches out for your hand then, smiling as you instinctively lace your fingers between his, “The chariot only has room for two, I’m afraid. My brother has decided to stay here for the time being. I think this final mission was especially hard on him, he’s expressed that he just wants to stay in one place for awhile.”
This resolution warms your heart. The idea of Rachel and, Jungkook making a quiet life for themselves in your home village, brings you so much joy. In many ways, it seems as though they had found a home in each other and, you couldn’t wait to see what their future held.
“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for the two of them. Although, I do know someday Rachel wishes to leave the village…I’m sure they will work out the details when the time is right.”
“My brother has already insisted that he will build her a house with his bare hands,” He chuckles, “so, at least she doesn’t have to worry about finding a carpenter.”
“What a gentleman.” You giggle before taking a sip of your drink.
Yoongi squeezes your hand gently, acknowledging your sentiment before eagerly moving back to what he wanted to discuss with you.
“My villa has been prepared for the two of us whenever we are ready. We have an entire battalion waiting to escort us there but, we will have to return to the capital after a few days.”
“Retirement ceremony?” You venture with a smile to which he chuckles and, shakes his head.
“I opted out of the theatrics actually. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, those ceremonies last far too long. I am just eager to start my life with you. However,” He sighs, wincing slightly, “my successor doesn’t seem to feel the same way. He wants his full induction ceremony which of course, I would have to attend...”
You cock your head, “Who is your successor?”
Yoongi smirks, “Seokjin-hyung.”
This doesn’t surprise you. Jin is the oldest member of the lead battalion and although Yoongi was technically their general, Jin never failed to assert himself as his right hand.
“I thought the seven of you were retiring this year. Did he re-enlist?”
Yoongi shakes his head, “No, he is taking on the position I turned down.”
You cock your head, brow furrowed with confusion, “Oh? What position is that?”
A rather arrogant look flashes in his eyes for just a moment until he seemingly reigns it in, attempting to keep his tone as casual as possible, “I was asked to serve on the royal council as an advisor to the Queens…”
Its impossible to hide the widening of your eyes causing Yoongi to chuckle at the expression on your face, “You must have made quite the impression, General Min. My father has always told me that positions on the royal council are passed down by blood…you really turned it down?”
Yoongi merely squeezes your hand, “I did. Do you think I was mistaken?”
You shake your head, “Oh, of course not. I mean- selfishly, it’s the outcome I would have hoped for but, I just want to ensure that you didn’t do this for me.”
A small grin comes over his lips whilst his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles, “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly guarantee that, ma’am. I don’t think any of my decisions are made without you in mind…” You open your mouth to protest and, Yoongi merely chuckles again, holding his finger up to signal that he isn’t finished, “However, even if I didn’t have you in mind- I still would have turned it down. As flattering as the offer was, I don’t wish to work in this field any longer. I’m grateful for my time and, honored that I was able to serve my land properly but-“ He stares into your eyes and, you can finally get a look at how exhausted he is, “I’m very tired. I’ve spent my entire youth with a sword on my hip and, I want to live simply now. If I’m being honest, I want to be detached from the rest of the world for a little while...”
You admire the man sitting across from you so much.
He’s only ever given to others, laying his life on the line over and over again, only to have his reputation constantly called into question. Staring at him now, you can’t even remember a time when he was nothing more than a rumor.
“I can’t even imagine the hardships you’ve endured. Your desire for peace is only natural after everything you’ve been through.” You place a kiss on the back of his hand, allowing your lips to linger there as he responds.
“What I desire is you.” He counters, his voice slightly raspier than before, “Peace will just allow me to indulge in you properly. I want no distractions... just as I told you before.”
Yoongi’s voice is laced with something that is wholly inappropriate for a public setting but, neither of you seem to care- instead you just stare at each other for a moment. You watch as his eyes travel over every inch of your face before slowly easing down your neck and, back up again.
The pain of missing him is one thing but, the lack of opportunity to bury into one another is physically painful.
You clear your throat and, send a smirk his way, letting him know that you understand what he’s getting at, “Did you offer the position to Seokjin? Or was he just next in line after you?”
Yoongi leaves his lust in the back of his head for now. He doesn’t want to rile himself up in the middle of the busy tavern.
“The Queens offered him the position when I turned it down. He was named my successor a few years ago when I fell ill so, he was already in a position to take over for me if necessary. Out of all of my men, he is the most capable but, also the most willing.” He chuckles, thinking fondly of his hyung, “He will do a far better job than I would anyhow. He is much more social and, outspoken. Plus, he will be living in the palace- I couldn’t imagine a better life for such a man.”
The warmth in Yoongi’s tone is palpable and, you can’t help but admire the way he talks about his men; its as though they are family to him.
“To Seokjin,” You smile, raising your glass.
Yoongi follows suit, clinking the rim of his goblet yours, his eyes brightening, “To Seokjin.”
As the two of you sip from your cups, Yoongi continues on with his explanation, “The journey to the villa will be brief. We will visit the palace for the ceremony in a few days and, then make our way back home again. From there, we are free to do whatever we wish.” The word home fills you with bliss. For the first time in months, it seems as though everything was falling into place. Now, the two of you could truly be together and, live out the rest of your days in peace.
“Free-“ You muse with a smile, “I quite like the sound of that.”
He smirks, “Of course you do. You have never failed to remind me that you don’t care much for the rules…”
Shrugging, you lean back in your chair and regard him for a moment before replying, “I don’t care for the rules that keep me away from you, General.”
His smirk never falters, “Consider them retired then, apothecary.”
The two of your resist the urge to maul one another in public and, decide to return to your home so that you can pack up your things and, Yoongi can bathe.
You try very hard not think of the fact that Yoongi’s naked body is on display in your back garden as you neatly fold your belongings away in your trunk. There are some things that you’re leaving behind so, that your parents can continue to sell your wares if they wanted to. Yoongi has arranged for them to receive part of his retirement so, they never have to worry about working again. It’s been discussed that the two of you will visit often and, you promised your parents you would write them every week.
Yoongi returns from his bath whilst you’re shoving the last of your clothing away. You can smell him immediately, the scent of your lavender soap wafting away from his skin as he walks toward you. He says nothing until his arms are wrapped around your waist, his chin coming to rest atop your shoulder, “I’ve never been in here before but, your room is very much like what I pictured.”
“Oh?” You lean against him, “I didn’t realize you would imagine what my room would look like.”
You feel him grin against your shoulder, “Well- I suppose I thought more about what we would do in your room…”
Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side to get a better look at him, “And what exactly would we do in here?”
You have half a mind to check to make sure Yoongi had closed the door to your bedroom but, when his hands start sliding up the front of your body, you no longer care.
“I would have love to take you in this bed…” A low chuckle comes from his throat as he starts kissing up the side of your neck, “Although, I wouldn’t be able to make you scream properly with your parents in the next room would I?”
His words send a jolt of electricity up your spine, your body growing weak beneath his touch. Through your nose, you emit a deep and unstable sigh before gripping his hands that are resting just under your breasts.
“You could have kept my mouth occupied somehow-“ You counter, feeling your attitude brewing beneath the surface of your patience.
At your comment, you feel Yoongi’s grip tighten on you as he moves his lips to your ear, “Excuse me?”
But all you do is smirk in return, regretfully pulling his hands from your body so you can continue packing.
“You’re excused.”
Yoongi is about to grab you again but, the knock on your door interrupts your flirting.
This seems to be a very irritating trend.
The two of you eventually part ways with your parents and, although you feel a bit of sadness, you’re overjoyed that they are able to live their life together in comfort. And because of Yoongi’s connections, you will be able to come visit them whenever you want.
The sexual tension between you and Yoongi has yet to fully fizzle out and, he reminds you of this as he grips your waist whilst the two of you walk towards Rachel’s home.
He has many things he’d like to say to you after that comment you made back in your bedroom but, the excited greetings from villagers prevent him from doing so. And all the while, you continue to grin, pleased that you’ve been able to pierce that carefully crafted demeanor of his.
You scamper away from him as you near Rachel’s front door, eager to see your friend after everything that has happened today. You’re anxious to see Jungkook too; Yoongi mentioned that this mission had been hard on him so, you’re hoping more so than anything that he isn’t injured too badly.
Yoongi lingers extremely close behind you as you knock on Rachel’s door, practically bouncing in your steps as you await for her to answer.
And boy does she…
Swinging open the front door, Rachel is still giggling at the man seemingly attached to her from behind. Her hair is absolutely destroyed and, her dress is buttoned up improperly as she addresses the two of you.
“Good evening, Y/N-“ She practically slurs, her eyes lit up with the type of insobriety that does not originate from alcohol. She bows her head towards Yoongi, “Good evening, General Min.”
Your lips are parted in delighted surprise as you survey the two bumbling humans before you. Jungkook is dressed only in his linen trousers, his black tendrils sticking in every direction atop his head and, from what you can see- his neck is littered with various reds and purples.
“Good evening to you- harlot…” You chide, trying to contain your laughter.
She shrieks, reaching out to smack your arm, just as she always does, joy painted all over her face, “Excuse you! I am a respectable woman of education.”
“Uh huh-“ You smirk, unconvinced before nodding towards the man behind her. He’s not even really paying attention to you, his eyes are just staring up at your friend like a lost puppy, his lips swollen from their previous activities, “Jungkook, it’s good to see you. Are you well?”
He merely smiles, only glances at you for a moment before his eyes rush back to Rachel, “Very well, thank you.”
Yoongi clears his throat, “Jungkook-ah,” He scolds, “Answer her properly…also, why are you answering the door if you aren’t decent.”
Jungkook seems to snap out of it, hiding behind Rachel in an effort to shield his body from your view, “My apologies. I’m feeling much better now, I’m glad to see you are looking healthy as well.” His tone shifts once again as he addresses Yoongi, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief, “I just wanted to see you off hyung and, uh- Rachel said this was decent in this village, I’m just adapting to the new lifestyle.”
Yoongi raises a brow, unconvinced but endeared nonetheless, “I am highly suspicious of that explanation…”
Jungkook giggles like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “You should be.” He winks at his hyung, giggling harder as Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust. He rests his chin back upon Rachel’s shoulder before speaking again, “Are you two heading to the villa then?”
You’re grinning now, admiring how relaxed Jungkook seems around her, “We are. I was hoping to hug my best friend goodbye before we made the journey…”
Jungkook gets the hint, his eyes widening a bit as he reluctantly moves his arms from her, “I will give you thirty seconds.”
This causes Rachel to laugh, waving him off playfully as she opens her arms to you, “Come here you…”
You throw your arms around her, smiling even as the tears sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you… far more than I care to admit…”
She laughs again, patting your back gently, “Oh you know I’ll be around…” She assures you but, her voice is tightening with her own emotions, “…but please make the journey to me often…I fear how stale this village will become without you.”
You’re looking at Jungkook now as he grins softly, admiring the two of you and, send a look his way, “I’m sure this one will keep you properly entertained…”
Finally, the Jungkook you remember returns as he seems to shy away from your comment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Rachel is staring at Yoongi too and, she musters up the courage to throw a pointed finger in his direction; she is still slightly intimidated by him after all.
“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She is precious cargo, General Min.”
Yoongi tips his head toward her as he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart, “You have my word, ma’am.”
Rachel smiles, sniffling a bit as the two of you release each other, “Good.” You pull away from her, trying not to give in to your urge to cry as you both sort of giggle, exchanging a series of knowing glances with one another.
“I love you, my dear friend.” You squeeze her hands and, she returns the gesture, her eyes glossy while she slowly begins to release your hands.
“I love you.”
Jungkook is back on her then, his brow furrowed with concern at her saddened state. He says nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two and, chooses to press a soft kiss to her shoulder instead.
Yoongi moves closer to you as well, winding his arm around your waist and, squeezing your hip reassuringly.
“Write to me?” Rachel asks, trying to mask the cracks in her voice.
You nod, blinking back the remainder of your tears, “Every week.”
Leaving Rachel is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do but, it feels so much better knowing how happy she will be. Yoongi stays silent for the moment, gently escorting you down the street, waving at many of the civilians that bid the two of you farewell.
Roughly 10 minutes later, the two of you are huddled in the back of a massive wooden chariot, pulled along by four black horses and accompanied by a group of guards. The interior is lined with padded silk and, is easily the softest thing you’ve ever sat on in your life. After the two of you are settled inside, Yoongi mentions your departure with Rachel:
“You two have a special bond, I’m sorry that you won’t be living near her for the time being…” He feels guilty for the moment, wondering whether or not you were happy giving up so much for him, “You know, we can always come back. I could commission the architect to design us a home out here.”
You squeeze his hand, touched that he would suggest such a thing, “I appreciate your concern but, I promise you that I am beyond content with my decision.”
His lips curve slightly, feeling satisfied with your answer for the time being. He would be sure to check in with you often, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unfulfilled.
“I’m happy to hear that but, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever get tired of me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand as the two of you approach the chariot.
“I promise you, you would know...” You assure him, nudging his leg with your foot. Yoongi grins and quick as ever, he grabs your ankle and, places it upon his lap. The sudden motion makes you jump, a bit of laughter coming from your lips. Silently but still grinning to himself, he gestures for your other foot with his hand until you get the hint to rest both of them in his lap. He looks down at them, something unreadable flashing through his eyes whilst his fingers brush over the tops of your ankles.
Its such a simple gesture and, yet it sends shivers across the surface of your skin. Yoongi continues to touch you, not saying a single word as he traces the faint shape of the veins beneath your flesh. Resting your head against the silk lining of the chariot, you allow your eyes to close in order to enjoy his touch. As your lids fall shut, Yoongi grins softly, finally allowing himself to ogle at you the way he wants to.
And oh, can you feel his eyes on you. They burn into your skin despite the fact that you cannot see exactly where he is looking. Truthfully, it wouldn’t matter even if you did, his eyes were everywhere.
His fingers slowly venture up to slide along either of your shins but, he is careful not to reach your knees just yet. And it's here that you decide to set your curiosity free.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
You feel his motions stop for a split second as he processes your question, the silence of the chariot much louder than before.
“Not long before I first arrived at your village.”
The effort to hide your frown is in vain as Yoongi’s rickety laughter gives you the hint that he’s already spotted it.
“Does that upset you?”
You keep your eyes shut, trying to stifle your smile, “Immensely.”
And there is another beat of silence before the two of you are laughing together. Yoongi flattens his palms on your legs, rubbing them gently in an effort to soothe them.
“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He concedes, his tone thoroughly amused, “And you?”
Your teeth are on your bottom lip then, trying to stifle yet another smile, “Not long before you first arrived at my village.”
Yoongi is pinching the skin of your calf playfully as an affronted scoff leaves his lips, “I see what you mean now, that is a truly upsetting answer.”
At long last you open your eyes and, the two of you regard each other for only a moment before you’re laughing again. It feels quite juvenile to jest about something like this but to you, it’s merely a testament of your comfort around Yoongi.
“I guess it sounds odd on my end though, doesn’t it? Since I’ve been so insistent on waiting with you...”
You shake your head, “I don’t think so. I never assumed you insisted on waiting because you were protecting a virtue of some kind. You are a 28-year-old man, it would be silly of me to think that you hadn’t taken a partner before.”
“Taking a partner sounds far too intimate...” He retorts, “...my reputation caused many people to throw themselves at me in attempt to satisfy some sort of fantasy. Occasionally, my physical needs made me privy to their advances. But, that’s all it ever amounted to.”
It does sadden you that people interacted with Yoongi in this way. If they had taken just a moment to get to know him, they would have discovered someone worth spending their time on. In your case, spending a life time with...
You’re adjusting your position so that you’re able to get closer to him. With your feet off of his lap, you move across the seat until you sitting right beside him. His arm immediately positions itself around your shoulders, hugging you against him whilst your fingers venture towards the free hand now resting in his lap. Silently, you run your fingers over his skin, not missing the way his breathing shifts as you do.
“I am exceptionally grateful that you allowed me to get to know you. I don’t think I could have been this happy with anyone else.”
Your voice is smaller than normal and, it makes Yoongi feel warm inside, his head cocking in such a way to signal that he wants you to look at him.
“The pleasure has been all mine, ma’am- I can assure you.”
He leans into to kiss you then, barely capturing your lips before he’s pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. In the small beat of silence, you choose to utter the words you’ll be saying every chance you get for the rest of your life,
“I love you.”
And with a brilliant smile and, a kiss to your nose, he is whispering, “I love you too.”
On the rest of the journey, Yoongi updates you on the status of the rest of his battalion:
Seokjin, as he mentioned earlier, is making arrangements to move into the royal palace as he will be taking the coveted position of the royal advisor to the Queens. Yoongi also explains that he will likely take a partner in the coming years and, that his family will be well-taken care of for generations to come.
Namjoon returned to his home village to reconnect with his beloved, Danielle. The two of them plan to move towards the ocean and, raise a family there. Yoongi explains that it will likely be awhile until he sees him again but, that you both can expect a wedding invitation in the next year or so.
As for Jimin and Taehyung- they will be following a similar path that you and Yoongi are. Their villa is positioned deep in the forest, even further from civilization than the one you’re headed to. The last thing Jimin said to Yoongi when they parted ways was that he plans on dropping by once every other month to catch up, emphasizing how much he would miss him.
Hoseok’s status was somewhat of a mystery and, Yoongi smirks with a sense of fascination as he explains where he might be. Years ago, Hoseok met a woman who matched his skill with a bow and arrow. She lived in a village not far from yours and, takes a rather firm position against any kind of authority. Hoseok took a liking to her attitude and, challenged her to a marksmen competition. She won. Naturally, Hoseok was both wounded and intrigued by this woman and, Yoongi suspects that they had been lovers for quite some time until his battalion eventually had to move on. Her name was Orion, just like the constellation and, Yoongi bets all the gold in his possession that Hoseok disappeared to look for her.
The ride to Yoongi’s villa comes to an end nearly half a day later and, you’re asleep on his lap when he gently shakes your shoulder.
“We’re here, darling.”
And here you most certainly were.
Beyond a massive wooden gate laid the most beautiful structure you had ever seen. The villa sits proudly in the middle of a massive stretch of emerald grass with an array of flowers blooming around the perimeter of the cherry oak that winds in intricate patterns up into strong pillars. The windows are tan and, made of a screen like material which is intended to keep pests out of the home. There is a pond just off to the side, which you are eager to explore later and, a balcony facing the right side of the forest. Yoongi had not exaggerated when he said that the villa was quite far from civilization for the backdrop of the scene before you were the mountains themselves, enormous and calm as they loom over the property.
Everything inside Yoongi’s villa was a brand of luxury you had never known: art, elaborate furniture, plumbing, and more space than you knew what to do with. Still however, it was uniquely Yoongi in that it was comforting.
It felt like home.
He explains some of the interior to you as he leads the way to his bedroom. He mentions that you can get comfortable and put your feet up while he checks the perimeter; something he says to expect every night.
Old habits die hard.
With a kiss, he opens the door for you and, promises he will return in shortly.
His bedroom, or our bedroom as he had called it, matched the rest of the villa. It was quaint but clearly displayed his immense wealth as he had an enormous bed in the center of the room covered in likely expensive linens. The windows were all shuttered for now, the only light coming from the lanterns hanging by the door and the entrance to the balcony.
Whilst Yoongi is checking the perimeter, you figure you only have a few minutes to prepare before he returns. Rushing over to your trunk, you settle beside it on your knees as you rifle through your belongings, looking for the one article you had been saving specifically for this evening. Tucked into the bottom, much neater than the rest of your items is a sapphire robe made from the finest silk your village offered. You had been working on it slowly every since Yoongi had left, preparing for the night when you two were finally alone.
You were buzzing with anticipation as you take off your clothes, neatly folding them and setting them aside. Then the cool silk is drawn over your body before you secure it with the tie just above your belly button.
With a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you pad over to the end of his bed and, take a seat upon the cream-colored linen. The rain begins marching prominently upon the outside of the villa bringing a cold breeze through the cracks in the shutters. The glow of the lanterns placed at the entrance of the chamber throw shadows onto the tile floor, entertaining you for only a moment until the creaking sound of the door grabs your attention.
Yoongi enters the room, not looking up as he relays the findings of his perimeter check, “Other than a few rabbits, the coast is clear and, I think after all my years of training I can handle-“ He is in the middle of this joke when he looks up at you, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes darkening as they trail over your figure.
It seems like forever before he says something, his body simply frozen by the door, unable to do much else aside from staring at you.
“I don’t remember you packing that…” He breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.
“That’s because I hid it from you intentionally.” A nervous but sly smile comes across your lips, your hands sliding over the tops of your thighs, smoothing down the robe for the millionth time, “Do you like it?”
He’s shaking his head, his lips kissing his teeth, as he steps just a little bit closer to you, “That’s really not the proper word to use…”
“Well-“ You swallow, standing up from your position on the bed, eyes searching for his, “You are free to use whatever words you’d like…”
“I’ve suddenly forgotten most of the words I know, unfortunately.” He counters, his eyes darting from you to the floor multiple times before finally focusing on your face. And he’s shaking his head all over again, a sort of desperate look in his eyes, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?
The sincerity in his tone takes your breath away but, you do everything you can to hold his gaze, trying to beckon him toward you, “I want you to see all of me.” Your hands are moving towards the tie that’s concealing you from him but, when you’re about to undo it, his voice stops you.
“Wait-“ He pleads, hands lingering out in front of him, “May I?”
You try your best to swallow but, the sheer look of desire in his eyes is removing all moisture from your mouth. Nodding, you hold a hand out to him, your fingers wiggling to beckon him toward you.
He finally seems to thaw out his frozen posture, heeding the gesture of your hand and, closing the distance between you. Almost involuntarily, he leans down and places a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips are dry, almost sticking to yours as he pulls away.
He’s nervous.
You both are.
But at the same time, you feel so incredibly at ease. There is a sense of peace between you now and, even though you’re about to experience something incredibly intense, you are both finally free from the bonds of the outside world.
Now, it is only the two of you and, all the unresolved passion that needs tending to.
Yoongi leans his forehead against your own, his hands slowly moving towards the tie at the center of your robe. You can see that they are unstable, the breath that leaves his nose is proof of that but, he continues forth anyway until his fingers are beneath the bow.
“You’re sure?” He whispers, his breath hot on your lips, making you want to kiss him all over again.
Your hands come up then, cupping either side of his face as you pull away, eyes desperately searching his own, “Certain.”
With your confirmation, he pulls the tie forward, drawing the robe apart and revealing your bare body to him. You never allow your eyes to leave his face, wanting to capture every bit of his reaction.
When you come into view, his expression seems to collapse slightly, his lips immediately parting in awe. Doing the impossible, he tries to swallow again when you use your fingers to slide the robe the rest of the way off.
And without saying a single word, he drops to his knees right in front of you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. Looking up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief, entirely overwhelmed by your beauty.
“There isn’t a battle in the world that could have prepared me for you.”
His words knock the wind from your chest, your breath leaving your lips in an unstable burst when your hand comes out to touch his cheek. When you do, he smiles, with nothing but bliss present in his expression. He turns his face so that he can press his lips into your palm a few times before rubbing his mouth over the area. Your other hand comes into play then, brushing over the clips in his hair and then allowing your fingers to slide down the length of his ponytail.
Right before he speaks again, he drags his lips to your wrist and, nibbles at the skin there, his grin broadening when he hears the change in your breathing, “Will you take my hair down for me, darling?”
His request is nearing the likeness of a coo. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before but, you now know you’d do anything if he asked you with this voice.
You pull your hand from his face and, allow it to join your other one in gently removing the accessories in Yoongi's hair. They might add a level of luxury to his look but, you know for a fact you prefer him without them.
He is beautiful without any embellishments.
When you start on undoing the elaborate work in his hair, he rests his chin just beneath your belly button and, simply stares up at you. The intensity of his gaze actually makes your cheeks hot but, you do your best to continue taking down his hair, scratching at his scalp once you’re finished removing the clips.
His eyes close as you do, a low hum resonating in his throat at the sensation. Yoongi’s hands begin moving down the sides of your body whilst his lips pepper kisses all along your stomach. They’re wet and lacking urgency and, they send a wave of pleasure directly between your thighs.
“Your hair is so beautiful- you'll have to let me practice my skills on it one day...” You murmur with a smile, letting out a sigh as he takes a bite out of your hip.
“You may do whatever you wish with me...” Yoongi smirks, sponging his lips down towards the ache between your leg, “For however long you wish.”
“I wish to undress you-” You reply, coaxing his gaze up towards you, “and then maybe have a turn on my knees...”
At your comment, Yoongi takes another bite out of your hip, his eyes blazing with lust. And almost defiantly, he begins kissing towards the tuft of hair between your legs, his tongue licking and just barely tasting the skin above your core.
Your fingers are back in his hair when he buries his face in yours and, you hear him inhale deeply before exhaling with a groan.
“You smell so good…” He nearly whines, kissing over the mound of your pussy, “…wont you wait your turn? I want to taste you first.”
And it’s so unbelievably lewd isn’t it?
The two of you had only pecked each other’s lips and, your lover is still completely dress and yet, he is begging to bury his head between your legs.
“Before you’ve undressed?” You tease, trying to maintain some level of sanity but, the way he’s looking at you is making that an impossible feat.
He looks absolutely maddened.
His response comes in the form of his tongue, licking over the top of you whilst his hands grip the outside of your thighs to coax them apart.
“Do you want me to starve?” He accuses, a sense of darkness in his eyes. Before you’re able to answer, he licks up the length of your pussy, his fingers pressing into your flesh, “Hm?”
The lust that’s running through your body is peaking at dangerous levels from his touch but, the way he’s talking to you is sending you into frenzy.
You feel like you’re going to explode.
“No, of course n-“
He cuts you off then, his eyes nearly black with desire, “Then let me eat.”
Your head is on the pillows seconds later with Yoongi nudging your legs apart so that he can situate himself between them. The silk of his own robes tease across the surface of your sensitive skin with every movement of his body. He still seems to be taking in the rest of you with hungry eyes but, as soon as he uses his hands to part your legs, his gaze turns ravenous.
Bared before him, you can feel how wet you are when the cold air of the room hits the moisture between your lips. You’re positively drenched and, he hasn’t even touched you yet.
This fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi who is now smirking darkly betwixt your thighs. He says nothing as his index finger draws a line straight down the center of your pussy before curling towards himself as he follows it back up, collecting the evidence of your arousal.
Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way you’ve drenched his finger but, he emphasizes the visual by rubbing his index against the tip of his thumb, only to pull them apart and display your arousal drawing a string between them.
Yoongi stares at you with slight quirk to his lips as he raises his fingers to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking each of his digits until his cheeks hollow out, his eyes closing at the taste of you.
Your cunt quivers at the sight of him, mouth parted in disbelief at how unbelievably good he looks.
When he pulls his lips from his fingers, he allows the smirk to form on his mouth once again before whispering, “Oh- I’m going to devour you.”
And then his head is buried between your thighs.
Yoongi’s tongue moves with contradiction, like lightening and mud all at once. He traces the tip of it around the circumference of your clit slowly but, sucks it into his mouth with fervor. In an effort to torture you with pleasure, he never does one movement for too long, knowing that this would draw you to your end far too quickly.
You can feel your breath leaving your lips at an unstable rate, your fingers searching for something to grasp onto. Yoongi has this covered of course, his hands reaching for yours before resting both of your intertwined digits on your hips.
His tongue continues to explore each fold of you. It’s as if he were collecting every ounce of moisture from your cunt before becoming determined to make you to make it all over again.
When Yoongi is satisfied with cleaning you up, he sets his sights on your clit, his tongue licking over the throbbing bundle of nerves three times before releasing his grip on of your hands and, placing one atop his head.
With an adoring glance, he slurs, “Use my mouth, darling. Show me how you like it…”
His gesture makes you let out a breath you had been unconsciously holding, your grip tightening in his hair at his request.
The sensation sends a shiver down his spine that he most certainly plans on addressing later. For now however, he is preoccupied with learning how you like to cum.
You tug his hair gently so his mouth his back over your clit and, slowly you move his head up and down. Ever the fast learner, he quickly picks up on the pattern you want and begins licking his tongue over the throbbing muscle.
The relief that comes with consistent pleasure finally pulls a moan from your lips, to which Yoongi immediately mirrors between your legs. You find yourself parting your legs further, your hips angling up to get closer to his mouth which only causes him to increase the pressure of his tongue.
The pleasure is mounting inside of your stomach like a hurricane and, for some buried reason, you bite your lip to attempt from crying out. Yoongi stops what he is doing and pulls his lips from you, which are completely soaked with your arousal.
His brows are drawn together in disappointment, his hair tickling your thighs as he shakes his head, “Oh please…let it out my love, no one can hear you but me.”
He pulls his tongue up the length of your clit slowly, his gaze nearly predatory as he reinforces his request, “Won’t you sing for me, darling?”
You nod, licking over your lips as you guide his mouth back to your cunt. He seems to work twice as hard now, flattening his tongue as he continues to rub it against your clit.
The muscles within your core are fluttering inside of you, your orgasm not far from reality. At Yoongi’s pleading you allow yourself to be more vocal, whimpering his name when he sucks at your clit.
He groans again at the sound of it, his fingers digging into your hips for the moment and then, suddenly pulling back. Eyes locking with yours, his wet lips get to work on lubricating his digits before positioning them at your entrance.
Yoongi licks his lips and, with a salacious look he says, “Deep breath…”
And try as you might, the feeling of his fingers curling up inside of you, yank the breath you attempt to take right from your throat.
“Ah-“ You preen, leaning up on your elbows to watch him fuck you with his fingers, “Oh Yoongi…yoongi…”
He grins up at you, securing his fingertips against the spongy tissue you inside of you whilst his other hand comes down to rub at your clit, “I shall ban anyone else from uttering my name, only you know how to say it correctly.”
With the increase in speed and pressure, you can feel something mounting inside of you that you’ve never felt before. You don’t quite know what it is, you just know that you’re going to make a mess.
Slightly panicky, your shaky hand reaches out for him, “These are clean linens…I feel like I’m going to soil them.”
The breathy and desperate nature of your tone goes straight to Yoongi’s throbbing erection but, instead of burying myself in you as he wants to, he merely increases the pace of his fingers.
“They will be much cleaner if you do, my love.” He assures you, his voice nearly cooing, “Just remember to say my name.”
His right hand is massaging against your clit at the perfect pace as his fingers curl up harder inside of you. The squelching sounds from your body would normally embarrass you under different circumstances but now, the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to care.
“Oh- oh Yoongi…yoongi…” You whine, your back arching off the bed as the dams inside of you break, your orgasm gushing out of your cunt in a way it never has. And although you can’t see him because your eyes are screwed shut, you feel Yoongi’s breath grow closer to your core until his mouth is back on your clit.
“Yoongi!” You whimper, toes curling into the sheets as he draws the pleasure from you.
He groans against you once again, his tongue repeating the same pattern you showed him earlier until you are shivering mess beneath him. Once he can sense you growing sensitive, he gets to work at slurping up every ounce of your release. His lips are sucking at your folds, your entrance, the inside of your thighs, nibbling and licking up every single thing you gave him.
With spotty vision, you anxiously reach down for him, suddenly despising the distance between you. He takes notice instantly, crawling up the length of your body and, placing kisses on every bit of you that he can.
Yoongi’s hair forms a platinum curtain around your head, which closes quickly when you grip the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. You meet each other’s lips with a type of hunger you now fear that you could never satisfy, tongues intertwining with desperation.
Ever so tenderly however, Yoongi his cupping your cheek and whispering sentiments to ease your overstimulated body.
“Shhh it’s ok, its ok my love.”
“You did so well.”
“You fed me so well.”
“I love you- I love you so much…”
With each phrase, he seals it with a kiss, the rest of his body settling between your legs and its then you are reminded that he is still clothed and, desperately hard.
“I love you too.” You whisper shakily against his lips, “I want to see you, I want to please you now…”
You’re practically begging, filled with disdain that his body is hidden from you, especially after you’ve just cum all over his face.
And he’s grinning against your lips, a rather sly look twinkling in his eyes, “And how do you plan on pleasing me?” He hums, kissing up the length of your nose.
“Well…” You begin, allowing a hand to travel down the black silk adorning his body before finding the solid length of his cock, leaning away from his hips. Smirking softly, you place your palm against him, relishing in the way he twitches up towards it, “You said you’d give me your soul didn’t you? I want it down my throat first.”
Your comment causes him to groan, hips pushing forward against your hand as he furrows his brow. Almost frantically, he stares down at you and shakes his head, “I know you think of me as a strong man but, I don’t think I could contain myself if you put your mouth on me- not with the taste of you still on my lips.”
Using your hand, you encase his length in the silk of his pants, squeezing gently as you move it up towards the tip of him. And you have his head hanging on his shoulders now, arms trembling beside your head whilst he tries to hold himself together.
“I don’t remember asking you to contain yourself. Those have always been barriers you designed.”
Yoongi looks up at you, eyes drawn in with a mix of pleasure and apprehension. When you squeeze him again, he shivers, a wanton groan leaving his lips. When he opens his eyes again, they look more nervous than when he stood before you at the end of the bed. In fact, it’s a look that you’ve never really seen before.
It compels your hand away from him slowly as your other one comes to cup his face, “What’s wrong?”
He breathes out a laugh, his mouth turned up at the corner, “Why is it that you can always find your way into my head and yet, I can never find my way into yours?”
You ignore his attempt to lighten the mood, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek, “Yoongi- what is it?”
The tone of your voice is gentle but, the look in your eyes compels Yoongi to bear his truth, no more how vulnerable he feels.
“My body is-” He sighs and restarts his sentence, leaning his face into your hand, “The last battle, it left me with many injuries. Most of them have healed but, I don’t want them to startled you.”
You sit up then, causing him to take a seat on the backs of his legs. Unable to help your saddened expression, you simply shake your head, “Yoongi, the only thing your body can be is beautiful. You have laid your life on the line for the people of this land, myself included. I could only ever love everything about the body that brought you home to me.”
With glassy eyes Yoongi is reaching out for you, placing a searing kiss upon your lips and, through it he murmurs “I have never let anyone undress me before…”
You kiss him once more and pull away a bit to lock eyes with him, “Do you trust me?”
And looking like a much younger man, his wide-eyed gaze full of innocence he nods, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “You’re the only one.”
His response accounts for several sentiments. His trust, his love, his dedication…
All meant for you.
“May I undress you then?”
His answer comes in the form of another kiss, lips attaching to yours with passion as his hands reach out for your fingers. He leads them to front of his robe, which covers the length of his tunic and his pants and urges you to remove it from him. Taking his lead, you push the material from his shoulders and, allow it to drop behind him before finding your way to the hem of his tunic.
The two of you find each other's eyes once again whilst you slowly draw the material up his torso. He follows your motions, lifting his arms above his head and placing them back by his sides when his tunic is removed.
The first thing you notice is his hair, flowing in prominent waves down his chest and, stopping just above his belly button. Then come his arms, strong and lanky all at once, much of their surface littered with the evidence of his missions. You can see what he meant and, you try to control your expression when you gaze upon the bruises and, cuts that have yet to heal.
You want to scold him for not acknowledging his injuries earlier so, that you could tend to them. But, you can clearly see that they have been taken care of by someone with much more skill.
His eyes are on you, searching for any sign of disapproval, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
He wish you could hear what you are thinking.
But just then, a soft smile comes over your lips as you carefully take his chin betwixt your fingers, “Just as I thought- you are molded from the gods, Min Yoongi. There has never been a man who contained more beauty.”
Your words hit his heart like a dagger, some of the air nearly forced out of his lungs. And he’s wanting to kiss you again, his lips desperately chasing yours before your hand comes to rest on his chest.
“Easy tiger…” You giggle, causing his lips to twitch into a smile, “I haven’t finished yet…”
He eases up, moving back into place with both of you still on your knees, facing one another. With tender hands, you move the tendrils of hair from his chest so that they flow freely down his back. His chest is fully exposed to you now, the swollen muscles beneath his pecks also displaying traces of the life he has lived.
Of the life he is finally able to leave behind.
Now, with just your fingertips, you trail your them across his clavicle, stopping for a moment at the ball of his shoulders before trailing them all the way to his wrists. A prominent shiver rattles through him, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to reach out and touch you.
But he doesn’t.
He stays perfectly still with only his eyes falling shut as you explore the surface of his skin. You take your time, dipping your fingers into the lines of his muscles, tracing the maze of veins beneath his skin, and smoothing your palms across the tops of his shoulders.
He’s properly turning to mush when you whisper, “Lay down…”
Like a man bewitched, he feels the urge to obey every command that comes from your lips and, commit every statement you make to memory.
He pushes his hair back, allowing it to settle on the pillows in various directions. And beneath you now, with his arms outstretched above his head, he looks like a king.
A sort of curve settles on his mouth when you position yourself between his thighs and, although he may look strong and confident beneath you, you can’t hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest.
Sex is familiar to Yoongi.
Intimacy however, is not.
Smoothing your palms down the muscles in his stomach, you use your fingers to hook under the band of his pants.
“You might need to help me with this part.” You smile and it only broadens as he chuckles, lifting his butt in the air and maneuvering his body so that he can help you pull the material down his legs.
Settling back into his position, Yoongi takes a deep breath whilst you take in the sight of him. He’s so hard. The skin of his dick, reddening towards the tip, the veins winding patterns up his shaft, the whole length of him begging to be touched.
“My, my- so the rumors are true…” You muse, slowly tickling your fingers up his inner thighs, which send his dick twitching in response.
His brow is furrowed however, wondering what you’re getting at and, you answer him before he ends up asking you.
“You do keep a viper on you at all times.”
And for the first time this evening, he is laughing. The full bellied and rickety sound leaves his lips as he wipes a hand over his face.
“You are incorrigible.”
His tone is disapproving but, his eyes are still filled to the brim with adoration. Because of course you would make this so easy for him.
Of course you would make love so easy.
All of his fears seem to mean nothing when he is with you, even when he is at his most vulnerable like he is now.
“And you, my dear Yoongi-“ Your tone lowers a bit as your brush your fingers over his balls, smirking when you see his chest puff out, “-are beautiful.”
With that, you lean down and lick slowly up the length of his cock, collecting the bit of precum that has collected on the tip. He tastes like the salt of the earth and, with that small bit of him- you now find yourself craving so much more.
His lips part, a sharp breath leaving the confines of his throat, his fingers quickly rushing to the sheets in anticipation. It’s been nearly half a year since he received any sort of pleasure from another person but, seeing as it’s now coming from the woman he loves, he is overwhelmed.
You are licking up the length of him again, your ass sticking up there for him to gaze upon as you slowly encircle his throbbing dick in your palm.
He is melting.
With his chest rising and falling unsteadily, Yoongi’s stare blazes right through you, when you suck him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck-“ He swears under his breath, the sound of that word coming from his lips sending an ache back to your core. You start him out slow, your cheeks hollowing out with the force of the suction you’re providing him.
His fingers toy helplessly with the linen beside him, the pleasure from your mouth numbing the tips of his toes.
With your free hand, you cup his balls, sighing through your nose at the almost desperate groan that leaves his mouth. He looks beautiful, his lips parted, stomach caved in at the pleasure he’s experiencing, his hands fisting in the sheets beside him.
“’sso good…” His brow is furrowed now, hips jolting a bit when you take him deeper towards your throat, “Be c- careful love, I don’t want to hurt you…”
But you don’t listen and, instead you continue your motions, your two fingers pressing behind his balls as you attempt to swallow his length.
“A-ah…” He throws his hand over his mouth, still slightly apprehensive at the sounds he wishes to make. You watch him as he breaths through the gaps in his fingers, eyes squeezing shut whilst you take him further down your throat.
He moans into his hand, his toes curling into the linen. And to address his attempt to conceal his sounds of pleasure, you simply walk your fingers across his trembling stomach and tap lightly.
Instinctually, he looks down at you- nearly cumming when you suck off of his length, your lips swollen and covered in saliva which you then spit back down on his dick.
Rubbing your lips against the sensitive underside of him, you coo, “We’re the only ones out here, my love. Let it out…”
He leans down, rubbing his thumb over your lips for the moment as he nods rapidly before allowing his head to hit the pillow again.
Chest heaving, he tries to prepare himself for your mouth all over again but, fails miserably. The pleasure is just so intense.
You waste no time in easing him back into your mouth, paying careful attention to relax your throat. He is confident, even in all of his years of sexual exploration, that he has never felt like this before.
He feels like he barely has a grip on his sanity and, when you take him down your throat- he has no choice but to whimper.
The sound only encourages you, your eyes unable to leave him as you watch his nipples harden, his stomach cave again, his eyes roll back…
“Fucking- fuck…fuck fuck…” He mutters through gritted teeth before his mouth parts again, “Please- don’t stop.”
Fucking him into your throat is no easy feat but, the sheer state of ecstasy he seems to be in, allows you to continue.
You rub at his hips, attempting to sooth him, your motions on his dick now becoming hands-free as his hips start pumping at their own pace. Despite the burn in your throat, you don’t ease up, wanting to see him overcome with the sensations, wanting to please him completely…
He shakes his head, eyes blown out and searching for an explanation as to why it feels so good but, he comes up empty.
Its just you.
Yoongi slams his head against the pillows, exposing his Adams apple when he swallows back the scream that wants to leave his chest. But when he feels his balls tighten and throb with his impending orgasm, he caresses your cheek.
“Please, my love- wait a moment…please…” He’s only pleading because it’s the only thing that can properly leave his mouth right now, for your motions on him have left him bewildered.
You’re careful to suck off of him cleanly, kissing the tip of his dick as you bat your eyes at him, “Are you alright?”
He’s smirking now, and a breathless laugh comes from his lips, “I think you’re well aware of how I’m doing.”
You giggle at his comment, kissing his dick again before resting your cheek upon his hip, “Then what is it?”
And with that same rather innocent, slightly humble look in his eye, he confesses, “I’ve always pictured being inside of you…the first time.”
In his earnest and rather proper way of explaining himself, you are simply taken over by your love for him.
He looks at you as if he is asking for the world but, little did he know- you would think nothing of giving him such a thing.
You’re kissing his hip now and starting a trail up his naked body. His hands come to life beside you and take their time caressing over your skin.
One last trail is place up the valley of his chest before your lips are hovering over his.
“Then be inside me.” You whisper into his mouth, sucking the bottom half of it into yours.
A deep growl resonates within his chest and, the next thing you know he is flipping you over, arms placed on either side of your head as he reconnects your lips.
Wildly, he kisses at you, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a somewhat disorganized fashion, neither of you concerned with rhythm at this point.
Yoongi is pulling away to take a look at you, silently reassuring himself that this beautiful creature below him, desires him too.
It’s slightly hard to wrap his brain around.
But as you raise your middle finger to the scar marring his right eye, you are breaking down the last of his concerns. He closes his lids beneath your touch, his chest tightening as you whisper,
“No more wounds, my love. I will make sure you feel only pleasure for the rest of your life.”
With a last and exasperated sigh, Yoongi guides himself inside of you in one quick motion.
“Oh-“ He breathes, his eyes widening as he chokes back a moan.
Your own moan is forced from your chest, Yoongi’s rhythm not giving you a chance to last very long.
He presses his forehead against yours, his mouth hanging open even as you kiss at it, hips quickening with each thrust inside of you.
“I love you.” You moan, whilst your hands come up to secure themselves behind his neck.
He is hurling towards his release so quickly, he fears the intensity of it, but the only thing he can tangibly focus on is confessing his love to you over and over.
“I will l-love you forever, it is a-all I will ever do for the rest of m-my life…”
Even as he stumbles over his words, his eyes never leave yours, pouring all of the emotion he feels into his movements.
He pours and he pours…
And you drink and you drink…
Until there is nothing left to do but surrender to one another.
The first rope of his release leaves his body with a jolt, his hips jerking forward and, immediately his eyes screw shut, his face burying into your neck.
You rub his back, kissing all along the side of his face as another hot spurt of cum leaves his cock.
“Oh Y/N…” He whines finally, sounding in pain and relieved all at once, “Y/N…Y/N…Y/N…”
He calls your name over and over and, somewhere along the edges of bliss, you tip over the edge too, digging your nails into his back as you do.
You seem to take turns saying the name of one another, the two of you riding out your highs for as long as possible until finally, your lover collapses on top of you.
In the stillness of the night, the only sound either of you allow is the rainfall atop the roof and, the whispering sound of your breathing.
For awhile, you just trace shapes into the skin of Yoongi’s back as his lips sponge into your neck and across your shoulder, or any part of you that he can reach. Moments later, his concern for his bodyweight upon you takes precedence and, he finally rolls over, the two of you wincing at the loss of contact.
You quickly take your place atop his chest as he leans over to the bedside table and, grabs the goblet of water waiting there. There was one on either side when you came in and, you assumed the staff had put them there.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and, attempts to steady his hand as he brings the goblet towards you but, to no avail.
His hand continues to shake.
Placing your hand around his, you try to assist him as a soft bout of laughter leaves your lips, “You’re trembling.”
And with waves of messy hair framing his beautiful face, he simply grins and corrects you, “I am in love.”
He raises the glass to your lips and, admires you when you take several big gulps, feeling good that he is able to take care of you.
His reply sends butterflies into your stomach, which seems like a rather impossible feat considering the fact that they had taken up a permanent residence there months ago.
When the Tiger moved into your life…
You usher the glass towards his lips with a soft smile, feeling so much happiness at the peace present in his eyes.
“As I’m I.” You whisper, rubbing your hand over his hip as he drinks the rest of the water in the goblet. There is also a sense of exhaustion in his gaze however and, you are met with the reminder that he probably hasn’t slept properly in months.
Your telepathy pays off once more as Yoongi addresses the heaviness upon his lids.
“I always pictured this to end with one of our elaborate existential conversations…” He chuckles softly, laying back on the pillow. Before he continues, he is reaching up to brush his thumb over your lips, “…but I do believe you’ve drained me of energy for now, my girl.”
A kiss is placed against his thumb, “Sleep now. We have plenty of time to question our existence.”
Yoongi chuckles again, using the hand that’s on your face to pull you closer to him. He kisses you one last time, ensuring that it reaches your soul before he’s puling you beneath the covers with him.
The last thing you remember before drifting off is another exchange of those three words.
The three words you would never grow tired of saying.
Yoongi sleeps well past sunrise. His chest rises steadily beneath your head for the better part of the morning and, although you want to wait it out, your desire to see the view from the balcony finally overtakes you.
You’re careful not to wake the sleeping man beneath you as you slip out of his grip. And as you’re pulling on the silk robe he had left discarded the night before, you take the time to admire him. Cheeks puffed out, lips pouted, brow smoothed over, none of his features containing a single ounce of worry…
You planned on keeping him this content for as long as you both shall live.
The mid-morning air was cold but, it felt nice upon your skin. Sleeping with Yoongi was new and, you now know that he emits as much body heat as a fully grown bear.
Or a Tiger…depending on who you ask…
This of course is wonderful, especially given how harsh winter can get but, you were growing quite warm beneath his arm.
The balcony was simple. It was painted the same color as the rest of the villa: a deep cherry red and, other than a few plants in the right corner, there was nothing else aside from the view.
Overlooking the grounds of the villa, the balcony displayed all of the elaborate architecture as well as the natural aspects of the grounds themselves. You set your eyes on the mountains to the left of you and, are overcome with excitement at the thought of them being covered in snow.
A hawk flies high above your head, his call echoing off every surface around of the villa, connecting the two of you for that single moment. As your eyes move to admire the thick expanse of trees before you, a pair of strong silk-covered arms wrap around your waist.
And normally, you would jump in surprise but, this time you don’t.
You could sense him staring at you for quite a while now but, rather than disturb him, you just let him have his moment.
Most of your moments would be spent staring at him if you had it your way.
“I had feared for a moment that I had only dreamt of you again…”
The tone of his morning voice is much deeper and covered in gravel, the sound sending a shiver through you. You lean back against him, lips curving up in a smile.
“We are finally alone, General Min.” You assure him softly, rubbing over his forearms. He kisses up your neck, causing your eyes to shut, just basking in the feeling of him.
Of the man you love.
“Well-“ And you can hear the grin in his voice, “Not completely alone.”
You open your eyes, confused by his response but as you try and look back at him, he is jerking his head towards the trees. At first you are confused by the amazed expression on his face but, when you see the mix of orange and black moving through the forest in the distance, you gasp in understanding.
“Is that?”
“A tiger?” He chuckles and when you look back once more, to confirm your suspicion, he winks at you, “It most certainly is.”
“Should we be worried?” You breathe, quite amazed yourself. The tiger doesn’t seem agitated from what you can tell, they merely move through the trees slowly- seemingly locked onto a destination.
“No, this one I have seen before.” He replies confidently, “They maintain their distance just fine…” Yoongi pauses for a moment and, then smiles to himself, “Unless of course, he falls in love…then we’ll never get him to leave.”
#bangtansorciere#yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#daechitwa#daechitwa! Yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fics#yoongi fanfics#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fanfiction#bts fanfics
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Watch the Sunlight Fade: 13 / 17
Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.
Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.
Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.
A/N: Heyooo time for more smut! And more answers. And more cliffhangers.
Rated M
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Read on Ao3
~~~~
The destruction in the apartment is clear the moment she walks in, feeling Killian’s watchful eye leave her as she shuts the door. There’s broken glasses and plates on the floor, Neal having cleared off the counter in what she assumes is his anger. She can’t think of another reason for him to be so destructive, picture frames smashed in the living room and fluffy pillow feathers flying through the air, but she certainly allows her mind to wander.
What if he knows? They’ve been careful, but what if someone besides Rufio had seen them?
“Neal?” She asks tentatively, clutching the strap of her purse tightly.
She hears another crash from his bedroom in response to her voice and cringes. The door opens forcefully, slamming shut behind him as he storms into the living room to meet her.
“Where the fuck were you?” he asks threateningly.
“I was at the store,” she answers, her voice small and weak, although she thinks it unwise to make a show of strength. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits. He fumes in anger again and picks up a vase that she had filled with flowers she bought herself, hurling it at the wall to her right and sending water and glass towards her. “Rufio is fucking dead , that’s what’s wrong!”
She pales immediately, realizing that he must know of their involvement in his death. There’s not much for her to say, unable to defend herself as she and Killian both know that their actions were wrong. She only wonders now if he also knows of the affair they’ve started. “Neal…” she croaks out in terror, unsure how to continue.
But to her surprise, he falls to his knees, his hands catching his head as he lets out a sob. “Who would do this?” he cries, sending her mind racing. “Who would kill my friend?”
She shifts, the sudden realization striking that he isn’t angry at her, he simply finds it appropriate to take his anger out on her. She has to adjust now, unable to hold onto the fear of him discovering her dangerous secret and required to shift into her role as doting girlfriend. She has to keep up appearances, as much as it pains her to do so.
“Babe,” she says softly, “I’m so sorry.”
Once she’s close enough to him, he grabs at her hand, pulling her roughly into his arms and squeezing her too tight. His actions are forceful, but not at all surprising. He holds onto her, sobbing into her hair and making her cringe as he cries for his loss. He says things like, how could someone do this to me, and it makes her realize that he isn’t sad about his friend’s death. He’s sad that someone has hurt him. He thinks this is personal.
While he cries, she looks around the apartment and wants to cry herself. He’s broken so many things, and even though almost none of it was hers, she still feels sadness in the wake of the destruction she sits in. When she looks to the bookshelf frightfully, she realizes she doesn’t see the one and only object that she covets as hers and lets a tear escape.
He’s angry. But he didn’t have to take his anger out on the one thing that he knows means something to her.
~~~~
“The Kings of Elsinore will pay for what they’ve done to us,” Peter says commandingly, his fist slamming against the table before him and making Emma startle. Many of the men around the table nod, grunting in agreement, including Killian.
He’s careful not to stare at her too much, although it’s difficult. Aside from his love for her and his disbelief at her beauty, it’s hard not to stare in an attempt to ensure that she’s alright. They haven’t been able to talk since she left this morning, but he doesn’t see any evidence that she’s been harmed. He knows that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been, though.
“The murder of Rufio was a heartless and psychotic act with the intention of hitting us where it hurts. Rufio was heir to one of our club’s founding members, and his death will not go unpunished.”
Killian shudders in his seat, the action making Rob turn to look at him and cock his head. He’s sure Peter means it, and he’s sure Killian’s punishment will be worse than anything he doles out to the Kings if he finds out.
He can’t find out, though. Because if he does, he could find out why it happened, and he can’t risk Emma’s safety like that.
“We’re going to hit back, which is why Miss Swan is here today,” he continues. His words draw Emma’s attention up from her hands as her big eyes stare at Peter. “It has become imperative that you identify something we can use against the Kings. Any help you need, you’ll have. Hook,” he calls, shifting his focus.
“Aye?”
“Continue to assist Miss Swan in her search. Remove the security features if you have to.”
“If it’s alright,” Robin starts, causing Killian’s eyes to grow twice their size, “I’d like to help as well. I believe my tracking skills may be useful in helping Miss Swan decide where to look.”
“Fine,” Peter agrees, waving him off. “As for the rest of you, prepare for a battle. If it’s a fight they want, then a fight they shall have.”
~~~~
She drops into the too-firm chair and it squeaks under her weight, a groan escaping her lips as she jimmies the mouse of her computer. He can’t help the small smile that pulls at one corner of his mouth, her dramatic entrance bringing him joy despite the stress they're all under.
No one says anything at first; it’s awkward with Rob being here despite him being one of Killian’s closest friends. Even though he trusts him with his life, he isn’t sure he’s ready to hear the truth of their relationship after how many times he insisted that Killian avoid this.
Once her computer boots up, she straightens and he takes a seat in his usual spot, gesturing to another folding chair across the room in an invitation for Rob to sit. “Want me to remove the securities, love?”
“No, I don’t want you to remove the securities ,” she responds in a mocking tone, mimicking his accent as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn child; I know how to take off parental controls.”
Killian raises his brows, looking at her in surprise, and asks, “then why haven’t you?”
“Because I’m also not an idiot,” she responds, glaring at him before turning back to the aged screen. “I’m not stupid enough to try and go against Peter’s rules.”
He gives her a small smile, one that he can’t seem to give to anyone else, and can't seem to help giving her, and nods. “That’s right,” he agrees softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He almost forgets his place, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and plant a kiss on her beautiful-- if not thoroughly chewed up-- lips. It’s obvious enough that something’s irritated her, and he wants to get to the bottom of it and console her so that the light comes back into her eyes. He’s greedy like that, he supposes.
“I bloody knew it,” he hears, Rob’s grumbling voice yanking him violently from his thoughts and his desires.
Killian turns quickly, as does Emma, both of them staring at Robin in surprise, as if they forgot about their audience.
“You’re fucking her,” he accuses, nodding and tightening his jaw. “Killian, mate, how many times have we talked about this--”
“Rob,” he starts hurriedly as he stands, his hands held out in a plea. Without words, only his eyes communicating to his friend, he begs for forgiveness and discretion and kindness. “Mate…”
He can’t even look at Emma yet because he knows that the look on her face will break him. He knows that she must be gnawing at her lip, her brows high on her forehead and her eyes desperate and terrified. “I’m not going to say anything,” Rob finally says, his eyes meeting Emma’s rather than Killians, confirming his hunch. “You two have royally fucked up, but your secret’s safe with me.”
He hears her sigh and worries that she could be crying, so he turns to her. He’s met with her dropping her head into her hands in relief, and he hurries to squat in front of her, taking her hands in his. “It’s alright,” he whispers, running his thumbs over her knuckles. Her dim, glassy eyes meet his and she shakes her head.
“We can’t-- he knew after two minutes. We have to go,” she murmurs softly, but he sees something shift in her. She sits up slightly straighter and gazes into his eyes seriously. “Can we trust him?”
“Yes,” he confirms while he squeezes her hands. He knows they can, but he turns back to look at Rob anyway.
“You can trust me, lass,” he vows, understanding as Killian begs him to. “I swear I won’t say a thing, but you’re playing a dangerous game. What’s the plan here?”
“We’re leaving,” Killian answers simply. “As soon as possible. We would have tonight, but Neal came back early.”
“He didn’t come back early, you dolt. They never left.”
He pales, his face falling, and he feels Emma's squeezing his hand. She must be thinking exactly what he is. They had both assumed that Peter and Neal somehow heard about Rufio and had returned, but the fact that they hadn’t even left is somehow more concerning.
“How… how did they find out?”
Rob snorts, shaking his head. “Right, you were too busy to-- hang on. Killian… tell me you didn’t--”
“Rob--”
“You didn’t. ” His face falls pale as well, the look he gives his friend chilling. Killian can feel the disappointment and terror radiating off of his oldest friend easily, and it does nothing to quell his nerves. “Killian, tell me right now that you didn’t kill him.”
“I had to,” he whispers, shaking his head in self hatred. “He attacked her. Said he would-- he said--”
“ Fuck, he caught you, didn’t he?”
“Robin,” Emma interrupts, trying to stop the two of them from going at it and speaking too loudly. They’re bound to tip someone off if they keep this up. “What Killian did… He knows it was wrong, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Rufio attacked me. He was protecting me, and now… I have to protect him. We have to get out of here, because if they find out that Killian shot Rufio, he’ll be worse off than your friend, Liam.”
Rob is quiet for a moment, allowing Killian to absorb her words. She’s right, of course. They’ll deliver him a fate much worse than that of his brother if they find out.
“Too right, love,” Rob agrees finally, nodding and running his hands over his face. “I’ll help you however I can, so long as the two of you take me as well.”
“Of course, brother. I’d hoped to grab Tink and Elsa as well.”
He and Emma hadn’t spoken of his previous dalliances, and he only hopes that his intention to bring Tink along with them doesn’t offend her. It’s not as if he plans on staying with her long, but she deserves to get out just as much as they do.
“Only because of Liam, and Tink is--”
“It’s okay,” she cuts him off with a smile, her hand squeezing his. “Of course we’ll bring them.”
He can hardly take the amount of love he has for her, her unequivocal understanding of every piece of him hard to wrap his mind around. He gives her a genuine smile, and her gaze meets his, giving him the beaming sunlight in her eyes of which he’ll never tire.
~~~~
The service they hold at the Rabbit Hole is only slightly deranged. The message is clear enough: Rufio’s loss of life is seen as a personal attack against the club. His death is not sad because his life ended, it’s sad because the club is suffering.
It’s nauseating.
The only thing that keeps her head on straight is Killian, the gentle looks he shoots her from across the bar where he sits with Rob shooting warmth through her heart and to the pit of her stomach. His presence is so soothing, so grounding. It makes her feel steady and strong to be with him, to even be near him.
Each time she catches him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, she feels her heart rate picking up. He drives her mad, she’s discovered. They’ve only just begun their relationship with one another, but it feels stronger than any she’s ever been in if only based on the physical connection they have with one another. She’s never felt this way about anyone before. She’s been with men before, men before Neal, but it was always transactional and cold. It was fine, but it wasn’t great. With Killian, it’s mind numbing.
He reads her effortlessly and flawlessly. He knows exactly what she needs when she needs it. He’s known exactly how to bring her over the edge each time, and she can only foresee their sex life getting better as they grow closer and closer. She can’t wait to grow closer to him.
The overwhelming feelings of disgust and discomfort are washed away easily each time he stares at her and are replaced by a feeling of undeniable need. The pressure builds where she needs him the most, arousal washing over her and through her until she can barely stand it, and the feeling of Neal’s hand landing on her shoulder makes her jump. “Want a drink, babe?” he asks, as if completely forgetting the conversation they had last night. He hasn’t even bothered to ask her of the results of her tests yet.
“I’m actually gonna just run to the bathroom,” she says with a smile. “Not feeling great, I’ll be back.”
She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she stands and heads towards the bathroom, relying on the dank darkness and the slowly dripping faucet to distract from the overwhelming moodiness of the bar and her overwhelming arousal at the thought of Killian’s hands on her.
She focuses on her breathing for a moment, hoping to slow things down around her and calm her racing pulse. The sense of peace is short lived; the door opens slowly, making her heart rate pick up. But when she sees him, she relaxes easily, a smile creeping onto her face. “You need to be careful,” she insists quietly, although she can’t help but giggle as he locks the door and pounces on her.
He lifts her onto the counter and his lips are on hers instantly, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her towards him. Her legs wrap around his and her arms grab for his shoulders, her nails digging into the rough fabric of his button down shirt.
With his mouth trailing hot kisses along her flesh, his teeth scraping against her neck, he finds his way to her collarbone and murmurs, “I couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.”
She gasps in surprise at his words, a wave of arousal rushing through her and landing in her core, twisting her and encouraging her to tighten her legs around him in search of friction and pressure. “Fuck,” she whispers as his hands and lips move the cup of her bra to the side.
“Do you want this?” he asks, seeking consent before latching his lips to her hardened nipple. She nods fiercely. “ Gods , how I crave you.”
“Killian,” she breathes, “touch me.”
His mouth devours hers again, his hand sliding down the front of her and finding the waist of her jeans. He tugs, drawing her closer to him and, without breaking their lips apart, snaps her button undone and slides her zipper down quickly.
“Are you wet already, Emma?” he asks roughly, his fingers sliding over the cotton that’s already nearly soaked through. He growls. “You are; that’s a good girl.”
“Yours,” she mumbles, her arousal taking over and her mind barely able to keep up with what her mouth says.
“Aye, mine,” he agrees, nipping at her bottom lip. He pushes her garment aside and slips his fingers through her folds, groaning when he finds her sodden for him. “So responsive,” he praises. “So perfect for me.”
With a moan as his mouth presses to the sensitive skin under her earlobe, she nods again, wanting to reinforce to him that she’s his . Only his. Simply, she tells him, “I love you.”
His fingers glide over her clit, pinching quickly and dragging a whimper from her throat. “I love you so much I can scarcely breathe,” he whispers. “I can’t stand to be away from you.”
“Then don’t make me wait,” she begs in a whisper herself.
He moves his hand away from where she craves him and quickly moves his own jeans, and Emma wriggles until her pants are falling around her knees. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” he vows, smoothing his weeping cock along her clit as she wrestles with the condom wrapper. When she finally has it open, she places it over his tip and slides her fist down to the base.
“Where will we go?”
She gasps when one finger slips into her followed closely by a second, curling against her expertly and sending her searching for his mouth with hers. He swallows her cries when his thumb gently presses against her clit.
“Your heart’s desire, Swan,” he says, lining his cock up to her waiting entrance. “I promise, that’s all I want you to have.”
Their foreheads press together, their noses too, and she bites her lip as he pushes inside. She clings to him, her fingers gripping the back of his shoulders, her heels digging into his backside, her core squeezing around his cock. After a few perfectly timed, perfectly angled thrusts, she whispers, “I just want you.”
He holds her so close to him as one hand grabs onto her ass and the other holds her jaw and neck. His thrusts are quick, but deep and effective, striking her exactly where she needs him. He groans when she clenches around his cock again.
His hand slips around from her back so that his fingers can dance over her clit with each thrust. Emma moves her hands up to the back of his neck, gripping his hair and begging him for more in each moan against his mouth. It’s not long before he has her a writhing mess in his arms, pleading for release.
“Come on, angel,” he encourages gently but firmly as he gives her another flawless thrust. “Nice and tight for me, aren’t you? I know you’re ready, love. Come for me.”
His voice is tenacious, but still so tender, so caring in the way that he loves her. She’s never felt so loved and safe while being spoken to in such a dominating tone, and she loves it. She loves the freedom that comes with being commanded and feeling safe at the same time. She never knew the two could coexist.
At his behest, she clenches once more and cries out his name, his mouth muffling the sound as he spills into her. They hold each other firmly, panting as they ride out their highs together, although they’ll never be sated. They’ll never have enough of each other, always craving more.
“Bloody hell, I love you,” he says when they catch their breath.
She hums happily, if only because she’s still panting too hard to speak. She kisses his neck, her lips lingering on his soft, sweat coated skin. “I love you,” she whispers. Then, because telling him once will never be enough, she moves so that her tongue traces his earlobe and repeats, “I love you.”
He moves her hair out of her face when she pulls away slightly, then presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry to come in here so… rudely,” he laughs. “But I--”
“I’m glad you did,” she smiles. She winces slightly as he pulls out, stepping away to dispose of the condom and exposing his bare ass to her, tempting her to pull him back to her. “Are we really gonna be able to go tomorrow?”
“Aye,” he smiles and returns to her to kiss her once more. “I just need to tell Tink and Elsa. We’re to meet by the docks; Robin knows already.”
“You have a plan?”
“Somewhere quiet,” he answers, “hidden away, unsuspecting… but it must be by the beach, aye?”
“Aye,” she giggles and he straightens her shirt with a smile. “And?”
“Nantucket.”
“Nantucket?”
“Mmm,” he hums as he helps her off of the counter so that she can fix her pants. “Quiet, secluded island, enough tourists to help us blend in. Plus, infamously beautiful beaches for an infamously beautiful woman.”
She wraps her arms around his neck, pushing onto her toes and kissing him. “Sounds perfect.”
“Emma…” he starts, and she can sense the shift between them. He’s thinking, his self-anger and self-hatred sneaking through the joy he felt moments ago. “If it weren’t for what I did--”
“Please,” she whispers. “You know that I love you. The fact that you killed Rufio doesn’t change that. I know you regret it, but if you need forgiveness, you have it.”
He leans against her heavily, forehead to hers again, and nods. “I do regret it. But I know it had to be done.”
“Exactly. And where will I meet you?”
“I’ll find you, my love. The less you know, the safer you’ll be with Neal. Robin knows the plan, though.” She nods against him now. “You’ll be alright,” he whispers, and she almost wonders who he’s promising.
“I know; I trust you.”
~~~~
A knock sounds against a heavy door. It’s pushed open slowly, and behind it stands a young and conflicted soul, trying to make the best decision for her family. The things she overheard as she stood outside of the women’s restroom serve to threaten the family she has found, and she cannot let that stand.
“Enter,” commands a strong and powerful voice, the man looking up from his ledgers and giving the woman a pensive look. “Elsa, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Peter,” she answers, moving towards the chair across from him. “I’m afraid I have some… troubling news.”
The man hums, leaning forward and pressing his arms to the desk. “And what is that, my dear?”
The woman takes a deep breath, sadly shaking her head at the truth she’s uncovered. She didn’t think her friend Killian capable of such a thing, but discovering that he’s murdered a member of the club has stunned her. “It’s Rufio,” she says wistfully. “I found out who killed him.”
“That’s very interesting indeed,” the man agrees. “Are you implying that it wasn’t a member of the Kings of Elsinore who murdered a member of our family?”
“Yes,” she nods with a deep sigh. “But it pains me to put the truth to words.”
“Elsa,” he starts again, leaning back in his chair authoritatively. “If you know something, you must tell me. How can we protect you if you don’t protect us in return?”
“Of course. After what happened to Liam, of course I want to protect the club.”
The man nods in sad agreement. “Yes, his death was a tragedy, but the club has been keeping you safe ever since.”
“Exactly.”
“Go on, then,” he gestures towards her. “Whatever you’ve discovered, you must remember that the club’s interests as a whole must come above those of one.”
The woman nods once more and takes a deep breath in, feeling the cool air hit her lungs. “It was Killian,” she whispers. “Killian killed Rufio.”
~~~~
~~~~
Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @hookedmom @pirateprincessofpizza
#Watch the Sunlight Fade#captain swan fanfic#cs ff#sunlight ff#captain swan au#modern au#captain swan smut#cs smut#captain swan angst#cs angst#captain swan fluff#cs fluff#ouat fanfic#ouat ff#once upon a time#once upon a time fanfic#captain swan
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 05 (first part)
(Masterpost) (previous episode) (this episode, second part)
Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes of the Untamed
The Pride of Yunmeng
Waterfall Date
Lan Wangji gets to experience the two extremes of Wei Wuxian’s interpersonal skills within the span of a few seconds. This is even better than his rooftop date with this horrible annoying terribly, terribly attractive boy.
Lan Wangji has come here on a mission to make Wei Wuxian do his homework, which is why he immediately tells him “let’s go to the library” gazes at him silently for several seconds...
...and then lets him adjust his sleeve for him and step allll the way into his personal space.
Unfortunately Wei Wuxian is about to guess a Lan Clan secret, so Lan Wangji ends the conversation by saying “let’s go to the library” grabbing him by his sexy arm muscle and dragging him off. Did he hold his arm all the way to the library? Even if he didn’t, his “I don’t touch other people” later at the lake is clearly horseshit. I don’t touch other people unless they are named Wei Wuxian and our brothers aren’t watching.
(more after the cut!)
Apology in the Library
Wei Wuxian splits his library time between actually doing his homework and trying to make friends with Lan Wangji. And he tries really, really hard, starting by sincerely complimenting LWJ’s calligraphy and offering a pretty okay apology for his prior rooftop antics. Lan Wangji tells him to put his leg down but doesn’t tell him to go sit at his own desk.
Lan Wangji exhibits steely self-control as he resists this look, which would cause anyone else’s robes to spontaneously un-weave themselves into a pile of threads.
When Lan Wangji won’t look at him because he feels his apology was not sincere, Wei Wuxian becomes much more formally apologetic. First he says “sorry” two more times, and he starts prepping Lan Wangji’s ink. This involves grinding an ink stick against an ink stone with water, to make a pool of ink for the calligrapher to dip their brush into.
This is not Wei Wuxian being annoying and messing with stuff on Lan Wangji’s desk, a la Zhou Yunlan (Guardian). This is an act of service; a genuinely helpful thing to do if you know how to do it properly --which all of these young scholars definitely do--and an action that casts Wei Wuxian in the role of a servant or junior.
Then Wei Wuxian offers to kneel down (to offer a major formal apology), while giggling like an adorable dumbass. It's unclear if this is sexual innuendo, just being ridiculously unconcerned about dignity, being slightly into abasing himself for this beautiful person, or all of the above.
After taking a long moment to consider all this, Lan Wangji slowly and deliberately gives Wei Wuxian three seconds of the eye contact he’s been begging for.
Then Lan Wangji spoils the moment by dropping a silence spell on him.
Wen Can I Have Some Fun?
The Wen siblings hang out and talk about their secret villainy and then fret about how much it sucks to have a chronic health condition, which is pretty relatable TBH.
I know life seems boring now but just wait until you’re an itinerant zombie with nails in your head.
Wen Qing is a devoted older sister just like Jiang Yanli, although with less fainting and more scheming.
Good kitty.
Porno in the Library
Now, since this next scene ends with Wei Wuxian being a boundary-crossing jerk, let's start by remembering that Lan Wangji has magically gagged Wei Wuxian against his will three times now, as well as hiding his vulnerable family member behind a ward while lying in wait in order to attack him. So, you know. Teenagers in lust. They are both learning what is and isn't okay.
Lan Wangji steals a long glance at Wei Wuxian while Wei Wuxian is drawing.
Wei Wuxian is putting the finishing touches on a gift for Lan Wangji. The gift is a portrait of Lan Wangji with flowers in his hair. This boy is SMITTEN. I think he knows it, too; he just doesn’t think it’s a big deal yet.
Wei Wuxian, who is good at everything, is really fucking good at drawing.
When Wei Wuxian presents the drawing to Lan Wangji he says “this is my gift for you.” This is very good-mannered of Wei Wuxian; Lan Wangji had to supervise him for three days, so he is presenting him with a gift to thank him and say farewell.
Lan Wangji completely ignores him, which is really breathtaking, next-level rudeness.
Wei Wuxian isn’t bothered by this, however, and just embellishes the picture with an extra flower or something before offering it again. This time Lan Wangji takes in and is very very very pleased with it, as evidenced by his slightly widening his eyes and how carefully he places the drawing on the far side of his desk.
Also he gives Wei Wuxian some prolonged eye contact, and engages in what, for him, is playful banter, calling the gift “extremely boring” when Wei Wuxian prompts him to use more words than usual.
Then Wei Wuxian spoils the moment by pranking him.
Now - let’s look at this erotic-book situation. This is a boundary-crossing prank, yes, but it’s also an invitation to engage in some form of intimacy. For teens who have access to erotic images, looking at them together can be simple naughty fun. Or it can be a way of discovering and bonding over shared sexual identities and interest. Or it can prompt more direct engagement, up to and including having sex with each other.
Lan Wangji’s horrified reaction means that Wei Wuxian has to characterize this as a prank after the fact, but he might very well have intended it as an invitation to get horny together.
Either way, his response to Lan Wangji’s “shameless” comment is bound to make an impression.
Wei Wuxian is from the clan of "be free" and he just doesn't see why this is a big deal. And now he’s told Lan Wangji it doesn’t have to be a big deal. And through him, the producers are breaking the fourth wall and telling every viewer that this doesn’t have to be a big deal and that they shouldn’t feel ashamed.
Threats and rudeness and book destruction ensue, and Lan Wangji is left alone in all kinds of emotional disarray, with a bunch of torn up erotica to tape back together throw away.
Boys on the Rocks
Wei Wuxian brags about his prank to Jiang Cheng and bestie Nie Huaisang, telling them that he got Lan Wangji to cuss at him. He’s going to put a notch on his sword handle for this achievement.
Jiang Cheng is pissed at Wei Wuxian about this, like he’s pissed at him about everything all the time. Possibly he has already started the seedlings of his lifelong jealousy of Lan Wangji.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t realize that he’s essentially prepared Wei Wuxian to court Lan Wangji by constantly criticizing, hitting, and threatening him. After a decade of Jiang Cheng’s rough style of brotherhood, Lan Wangji’s elegant and refined hostility rolls off of Wei Wuxian like water off a duck’s back.
Nie Huaisang wants to make sure Wei Wuxian didn't rat him out, but isn't worried about the destroyed book because he has a whole external drive full of porn.
Several Brain Cells Trio
These guys do make some questionable choices together, but actually they are all really bright and effective in complimentary ways.
Jiang Cheng is growing into a strong future leader - authoritarian and dickish, yes, but also decisive and unflinching. Wei Wuxian is observant of things around him, always ready for combat, and thinks deeply and strategically about events. Nie Huaisang is a bottomless font of knowledge, sourced from books and from his own observations.
So when the Wen spy bird shows up, they spot it, drive it away, identify what it is, and understand that it’s a threat and that its presence has political implications.
They are all goofballs at times, but highly gifted ones.
Doo Doo Doo Lookin Out My Back Ward
Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji if he’s found out who was sneaking around his the back ward and Lan Wangji hesitates before reluctantly saying “Wei Ying.”
Ok seriously - nobody calls him Wei Ying. Nobody refers to him in the third person as as Wei Ying. Calling him Wei Gongzi or Wei Wuxian would be totally normal. His own brother calls him Wei Wuxian. And Lan Wangji has only called him Wei Ying to his face when he was angry.
But now--immediately after the erotica debacle in the library--he is Wei Ying when Lan Wangji is speaking of him privately with his brother.
By the way, Lan Wangji's shoulders seem super wide in these robes, don't they? I'm not complaining.
Forgettable Disciple #1
Now we meet apparent nobody Su She, who sucks. He wants to take care of the water ghosts himself.
He is a no-headband disciple which is like - none of the juniors in the later timeframe go without a headband. The guys who got set on fire at the gate had headbands. One of the Lan Rules is “wear a headband.” Is there anyone else who doesn't rate a headband? This is a plot point later when it comes to the ice cave but for now it just seems that he's that one perpetual intern who never gets promoted and never learned embroidery.
Doctor Qing, Medicine Woman
[OP laughed way too hard at her own joke just now.] Wen Qing is helping Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng is super happy to see her. When did he develop this crush? Because it's already in full swing.
Did Wei Wuxian just sneer when he noticed Jiang Cheng’s crush? Like macking on Lan Wangji is more appropriate than this?
I love you and I’m going to advocate killing everyone who matters to you
I’m a nosy jerk and I’m going to be your best friend for life, quite literally
Wei Wuxian complains about Wen Qing ignoring him and she gives him the prettiest, loveliest *sigh* death glare ever.
However when she sees that he's a little brother whose sister utterly dotes on him, she starts thinking maybe he's all right.
For the Yanli-Qing shippers, there is a tiny breadcrumb here, where Yanli says they met by the river bank. I don't personally ship my personal girlfriend Wen Qing with Jiang Yanli, but I support your ships wherever they may sail.
Continued in Part 2, right here
#fytheuntamed#the untamed#the untamed gifs#the untamed memes#wangxian#the untamed stills#the untamed spoilers#restless rewatch#restless rewatch the untamed#canary3d-original#my gifs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wen qing#jiang cheng#nie huaisang
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Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.
Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.
A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.
[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.
This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.
He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.
In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.
Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him.
The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.
A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.
“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do.
“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “
“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “
To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.
“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.”
“ Old tattoo? “
Billy swallows audibly “scars.”
He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.
“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “
“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “
It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.
“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer.
“ Dr. Pepper? “
“ Good choice. Coming right up. “
She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window.
The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down.
“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “
Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole.
Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?
“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”
“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”
There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.
“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”
Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days.
“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”
“You miss California?”
“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”
She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head.
“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”
He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.
His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.
Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -
“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.
“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”
“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”
“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”
“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”
Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”
“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.
“Oh you have no idea.”
As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.
“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.
“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”
Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.
“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”
He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.
The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.
“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”
Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”
He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.
“Oh hey, you.”
“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”
But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself.
“It’s fine. No bother.”
Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.
A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be.
“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?”
There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“
Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.
Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.
His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.
“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …
“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”
Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.
“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“
“I love it!”
Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.
“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?”
“Sure, let’s do it!”
The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.
“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”
He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now.
“I’ll be fine.”
And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.
The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.
He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”
For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility.
“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”
Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”
“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”
“ Almost 20.”
“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”
Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.
“ How old are you?”
“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”
“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”
“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “
It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.
“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”
“Yeah?”
She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.
“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“You should be proud of yourself.”
There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.
“Okay. I’m done!”
There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.
“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.
“Absolutely!”
His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.
His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.
He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.
But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?
So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing.
Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.
“I take it you like it?”
“I love it.”
And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.
She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating
“I can not thank you enough.”
“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”
He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.
They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.
She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken.
“They’re burn scars.”
Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.
“Huh?”
“My scars. They are burn scars. Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “
For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.
“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “
And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.
“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”
The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand.
As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.
And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.
#billy hargrove x reader#Billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove imagines#stranger things imagine#stranger things imagines#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic
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Mason’s Brightside Part 2
Part 1
“No Mason, weird dreams are not a symptom of the herb I gave you last night,” Alaria sighed “If you had listened to me you would know the opposite is true.”
“No dreams is a symptom?”
“Yes and so are dehydration headaches so make sure you drink lots of water.”
Alaria shooed Mason outside of the healing den and he nearly crashed into Corkscrew, a spiral.
“Watch where you’re going!” Corkscrew snarled.
Mason ignored him and went to get something to drink, his mind however was still thinking about that dream. He’d never been a vivid dreamer. Something about it was so unnatural.
Evan came up to him later in the day and he described the dream to him.
“Weird right?”
“Yeah but sometimes a dream is just a dream. Don’t read too much into it.”
“But it felt so real!”
“You sure it’s not… Ya know your mind playing tricks on you?”
Mason glared at Evan “It wasn’t that.”
“Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to imply…” Evan coughed “Maybe you’re just not used to a good night’s sleep is all.”
Mason thought about that for a moment “That… Ok yeah that I can believe.”
The next night he was given the same herb from Alaria and he found himself right back at the Emperor’s Wake.
“Good to see you again Mason,” It was the tundra. They were sitting beside him, so close that Mason could feel their fur on him “Are you on your way?”
“I-” Mason began and then he snarled “What are you doing in my head?”
The tundra looked back at him calmly, “You can thank our local dreamwalker for that.”
“Dreamwalker…?”
“You’ll be waking soon. I don’t have time to explain. Please come here to the Emperor’s Wake. I’ll explain everything. It’ll be much easier in person, I promise.”
Mason was about to speak when he found himself awake, sunlight danced across his room.
He began to pack his things. It didn’t take long. Being formerly dead, he didn’t have any personal belongings from his world. All he had were just a few art supplies Flare had been kind enough to give him, a simple dagger, a water canister, a few snacks and a blanket. Everything fit neatly in a bag he wrapped over his shoulder.
He trotted down the stairs from his room and into the clan lobby. He made his way to the main exit when Evan found him.
“Where are you going?” He asked, seeing the bag.
Mason sighed “The Emperor’s Wake.”
“What? Isn’t that where that monster is?”
“Yep.”
“And you want to go there?!”
“Correct.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where the dragons in my dreams told me to go.”
“So you’re just going to listen to random dream dragons now?”
“See this is why I was trying to avoid you.”
Evan looked hurt “You were planning on leaving without telling me?”
“Because I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn’t understand! Listen, I've been here before. I know that whoever these dragons are, they're not going to get out of my head until I do what they want me to do.”
“Hey no offense Mason but the last time you listened to some... thing in your mind you ended up hurting a kid.”
Mason snarled “He wasn’t just a kid. Don’t oversimplify what Muerto is.”
“I’m just saying, if you knew that was Match speaking to you, would you still have done the things you did?”
“Yes. Match is just another self centered god, but at least me listening to him, capturing Muerto, weakening him. Getting him to spill his dirty little secrets. At least that did something! You would have rotted away to nothing and we would have all been trapped in that horrible place until we died. I got the gods’ attention. I changed things!”
Evan took a deep breath “Ok. Yeah you’re right. But I also don’t have to like what we had to do to get where we are now. Maybe this time we can take some time to think about what we’re getting into before we have to hurt anyone?”
“We? You want to come with me?”
“I don’t like the idea of being near that monster, but I hate the idea of letting you go alone even more.”
***
Mason waited for Evan to pack his things. Like him, it wasn’t much so they were off on their journey soon enough. Evan felt bad leaving without a word so he took the time to leave a note for Nike.
The two took off and soared over the Sunbeam Ruins in the direction of the area now known as the Emperor’s Wake. Mason had a map with him to help him keep track of their journey. As he flapped his wings he noted how natural flight felt to him. It was strange to him how quickly he picked up the skill. His original body was not one designed for flight and never in a million years would he have guessed he’d eventually become a dragon. Sepulchral had taught him to fly after he had entered the Dragon Planet. Sepulchral was a good teacher, and unlike all of the other Selcouth creatures that were brought to Sornieth, Sepulchral actually had wings back in their world, making him uniquely experienced with flight. But even with such an excellent teacher, Mason felt like he shouldn’t have picked up the skill quite so quickly. It only made it more frustrating that relearning to draw was not as natural to him.
“Sorry about planning to take off without you,” Mason said after a few miles of silence.
“Hey, it's cool. No big deal,” Evan responded.
“What were you going to tell me the other day, by the way? I didn’t mean to brush you off like that. Sorry again.”
“Oh that?” Evan laughed nervously “That was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Mason glanced at his friend “Alright…” He thought about pushing the subject, but decided to let it go.
The two flew in silence until it got dark. They camped out in a secluded pine forest for the night and took off again when it was morning.
Their flight was uneventful until they flew over a patch of land that was scarred in an unusual way. Most of the Sunbeam Ruins were filled with rolling fields of grass and green pine trees dotted with ruins from a forgotten era. But this patch of land was blackened and dead. It was not burned like a fire found it, rather it looked like a perfect circle of the land just shriveled up and died. Below structures that were not ancient ruins were crushed and destroyed like a tornado ran through the community.
“What do you suppose happened down there?” Evan asked.
Mason shook his head “Nothing good probably. Let's keep moving.”
It wasn’t long before the land began to look more like what Mason saw in his dreams. There were tell-tale signs of destruction, but not quite like the shriveled dead land they had just passed. Mason searched the ground below him and nearly stopped mid flight. There on top of a hill covered in ruins was the same rugged tundra that had spoken to him.
Mason landed beside them with a thud and Evan landed more gracefully beside him.
“You!” Mason snarled.
The tundra smiled and waved “Mason! So good to see you in person. And oh look! You brought a friend.”
“Why were you in my head? How do you know who I am? What do you want with me?”
“Holy shit,” Evan was ignoring the tundra and instead his eyes were fixed on the horizon “It’s real.”
Mason heard a roar and looked up. There in the distance was the rampaging beast, the Emperor Luminax. It was even more horrible than it was in his dreams.
“Terrifying isn’t it?” The tundra asked, following Mason’s gaze.
“It’s just… Hard to believe it’s real.”
“I know. Seeing your first Emperor… It makes you wonder what’s real and what’s fake. But that thing is real alright. It’s destroying lives and the gods are doing nothing about it.”
Mason snorted “Yeah that sounds about right.”
“Ah, don’t like gods do you?” The tiny bug dragon from Mason’s dream landed on top of the tundra’s head “I knew this one would fit in well!”
Mason peeled his eyes away from the undead creature in the distance “Ok, no more talking until you two explain why you were in my head.”
“Ah that would be Karyu’s doing,” The tundra addressed the bug sitting on their head.
“How dare you!” Mason lunged forward to swat the bug, but they quickly flew away. Mason ended up hitting the large tundra’s antlers instead. Mason’s hand stung and the tundra glared at him.
“Maybe instead of threatening my friend, you could sit down and listen.” The tundra shoved Mason to the ground. Mason tried to get back up, but stopped when the tundra gave him another glare.
Karyu flew back onto the tundra’s head and pointed at Mason “That one tortured a kid god, so I guess I shouldn’t really be too surprised. Still, he has use here.”
Mason’s eyes widened “How did you-”
“My name is Perryn,” The tundra cut Mason off and smiled “I’m an Emperor hunter, and my friend Karyu here is a dream walker.”
“And demigod!” Once again Karyu took off from their perch on Perryn’s head. They circled in the air and as they landed they began to transform. Before Mason’s eyes the little bug dragon grew in size. They spun so fast it forced Mason to blink and with that one blink a new creature was standing where the bug disappeared. Its body was unmistakably human to Mason, but it still had some of the bug features of its dragon form. Antennae sprung up from Karyu’s head and insectoid wings from their back. They wore a long robe and their long purple hair touched the ground. They were still small, Perryn towered over them and so would have Mason if he had been standing, but they were no longer squishable.
“My mother is the goddess of dreams for this world, and lucky me, I’ve inherited some of her powers,” Karyu walked up to Mason and poked his snout. He snapped at their fingers “You have the most fascinating dreams out of everyones’ I’ve walked through. So many memories are mixed with yours. Some juicy ones too!”
“No. You didn’t.”
“It’s just a shame that lately you haven't been dreaming much. I’m guessing insomnia? Well that’s no good for me or my pals here at The Guild of Osiris! I was afraid if your sleeping patterns continued I would have lost contact with you! And that would have been a real bummer.”
“Which is why Karyu had to bring me into the picture,” Perryn said “We needed you to come here before they lost contact with you and they thought you would listen to me and not them.”
“And I was fucking right!” Karyu grinned and then leaned close to Mason and whispered “I just thought Perryn would be more your type. I’m gorgeous, I know, but I’m taken.”
Mason just stared at Karyu. He opened his mouth and then closed it like a fish out of water.
“Yes. Karyu was right!” Peryn shouted and then coughed “And now you’re here like we were hoping. Karyu has seen a lot of things about you from their dream walking ,which I know may be awkward and invasive-”
“You don’t think?” Mason found his voice for a moment.
“But Karyu has a knack for finding those who are perfect for helping our cause. Mason, is life uncertain to you? Maybe you’ll make a good Emperor Hunter.”
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Common Ground
Bellamy Blake x Plus size!reader and John Murphy x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1376 words
Warnings: none
Summary: Bellamy and Murphy both have a thing for the reader, and when you get into some trouble on a run with some grounders, they both fight to protect you. It’s the only thing they can agree on.
——————————————————————————————————
You had no idea what kind of danger was waiting for you in the vast woods of the forest and in all honesty, you didn’t care.
Foraging was the hundreds prime source of resources right now, and someone had to collect them.
Usually, Jasper and Monty went out together but after his accident, Jasper was out of commission and Monty wasn’t going to go alone.
...But you could.
It would only take you a couple hours and then you’d be back. No one else would even have to know. Nothing that bad could happen in such a short time, right?
Wrong.
You had only made it a couple miles, before you tripped and skinned your shin and that wasn’t the worst of it.
The worst came when you stumbled onto grounder territory.
They were understandably upset at your appearance there, and in that moment, you realized why no one ever went into the woods alone.
You clearly weren’t getting out of here with your negotiation skills alone.
Luckily, some miles away, Bellamy and the others had just started getting up and about with the sunrise. It was only a matter of time before they found you...or, at least, you hoped so.
At this current moment, you were tied to a tree, beaten and bruised. As best you could tell, they thought you had information.
Not that you could be sure.
No one was exactly translating for you during this entire time.
“Where the hell is she?” Murphy grumbled, pulling open every tent he came across looking for you. Usually, you were up and around by now, a fact that he only knew because he watched your every move.
Something terrible must have happened.
That was the one conclusion he could draw due to your absence. By this point, John had practically torn the whole camp apart, and you weren’t in it.
“Calm down, what are you talking about?” Bellamy tried, noticing almost immediately that Murphy was about to lose his mind. Whatever he was rambling about, it was starting to freak the others out.
A mass panic wasn’t something the hundred could handle right now.
“Y/N, she’s gone” the other man spat, they were wasting time. Wherever you were, they had to find you before something horrible happened.
When this morning started, Bellamy assumed that Murphy was just being a dick and making a bigger deal than necessary.
...But as soon as he said that key word, your name, it was Bellamy’s turn to panic.
The two men had little in common, but when it came to you, there was a bit of wiggle room. John’s love for you wasn’t new, and Bellamy’s own infatuation had started when you hit the ground.
It was instant, but for whatever reason, you didn’t seem to notice.
Even so, it was going to serve you well today.
There was no better way to get both John and Bellamy to work together than to put you at the center of it.
“Well where could she have gone? She doesn’t have watch today” Bellamy wondered, he intentionally kept you off watch, as he worried it would be too dangerous.
Murphy only scoffed, “I know that” he didn’t really care if Bellamy had feelings for you too. It was a simple truth that they both had to deal with, but he also didn’t want Bel to think that he didn’t care as much as he did.
Nothing could be farther from the truth.
Not that that was the most pressing issue at hand right now.
“What I mean is that she shouldn’t be gone” Bellamy groaned, putting up with Murphy was well worth getting you back in one piece but that didn’t make it any easier.
You were out there and between the two of them, you were going to be home by dark.
There was no other option.
“I’ll pack some water and supplies and meet you at the gate in twenty minutes” John finally decided, after taking a few minutes to collect his thoughts.
Finding you was their only option.
~
They did find you, eventually, but that didn’t mean either man was any more relaxed than they had been all morning.
“Right there” Murphy spoke first, gesturing over to where you were, leaning up against a tree. From what they could tell, you were still breathing but that was about the only good news.
Bellamy was the first to meet your side but John wasn’t far behind. You could see the two of them, even though the edges of your vision were a little blurry.
Everything hurt but that didn’t mean you were any less glad to see them. Having both men here meant that you were safe, and no one could do anything more to you.
You would be fine.
“Are you okay? Are you alright?” he repeated, touching lightly on your face to try to figure out what was going on. There were already some bruises blooming there, and who knows where else.
...But you were conscious and still breathing. That was a start, and they could get everything else figured out back at the camp.
“I’m fine, my head just hurts a little” you tried, doing your best to keep your voice as calm as possible. Depending on what you really looked like, they were liable to never leave your side again.
At the very mention of it, Murphy started rummaging through his bag, seemingly having thought of something else. “Give her this” he suggested, kneeling down beside Bellamy toward you holding a water bottle out to Bell.
You likely hadn’t had anything to drink lately and that could have something to do with the pain in your head.
There was a sharp pain on your right side under your ribs as you moved to take it, but you ignored it after a small wince. You hadn’t realized just how thirsty you were until you had a sip.
After all, you weren’t really thinking about getting a drink until now.
“Thank you,” you muttered, your voice broken between sips, the plastic cracking beneath your fingers. You had no idea why you thought you could ever come out here alone.
You were almost sure that you would never be allowed out of either Bellamy or John’s sight again.
“I’ll carry her back” Murphy offered, sliding one arm under your knees and another behind your back. He was completely serious about this but as soon as he suggested it, Bellamy laughed.
There was no way Murphy was strong enough to carry you all the way back.
“Let me do it. I don’t want you to drop her” he grinned, knowing that he couldn’t resist landing a little jab at John, even in a moment like this. He knew for a fact that he was more capable of carrying you back through the forest.
For all he knew, Murphy was going to trip on a stray tree branch and drop you in the dirt. In the shape you were in, it could be incredibly dangerous for your recovery.
“I’m not going to drop her” he groaned, turning his attention fully to the other male. He shouldn’t have even brought Bellamy out here.
He could have found you all on his own.
It wasn’t until you sighed that they broke it up. You knew that the two of them were never going to get this figured out between themselves. They could go on bickering for hours and you didn’t want to sit here anymore.
“Can we please just settle this when we get back to camp? I can walk just fine if you two want to help me” you suggested, using the hold John had on you to stand up.
As soon as you were on your feet, Bellamy braced his arm around your waist on your right side, with Murphy on the other side. It would take a little longer this way, but you knew it was better to involve them both.
There was much less arguing that way.
You just hoped that the two of them would finally find a way to get over their silly little rivalry throughout the process of your healing.
If anything was going to bring the two of them together, it was you.
#bellamy blake#john murphy#murphy#the 100#the hundred#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake x ps reader#bellamy blake x plus size reader#bellamy blake imagine#john murphy x reader#john murphy x ps reader#john murphy x plus size reader#john murphy imagine#murphy x reader#murphy x ps reader#murphy x plus size reader#murphy imagine#the 100 x reader#the 100 x ps reader#the 100 x plus size reader#the 100 imagine#the hundred x reader#the hundred x ps reader#the hundred x plus size reader#the hundred imagine#polyamory
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To Weather a Storm (Saeyoung x MC)
Oh, Saeyoung. How I have missed you.
Summary: It’s easier to hide from the storm, but do you really want to waste away under your shelter, having never danced in the rain?
Warnings:
Some violence, blood and brief mention of torture.
General angst (with a happy ending)
Songs:
I Dreamed a Dream - Les Miserables
Already Gone - Sleeping at Last
After the Storm - Mumford and Sons
Come What May - Moulin Rouge
Fic and notes under the cut.
A/N: Okay, I know I tend to ramble at the beginning of a fic but I feel like these need to be said, for my sake. You’re more than welcome to ignore this, but I gotta get these off my chest. This fic includes and was based on a poem I wrote a little while ago, which I know sounds horribly pretentious and pompous, but I had the idea for this fic weeks after I wrote it and it didn’t seem complete unless I included it. In addition, because it was written before the fic, it is personal and I feel very vulnerable posting it here, but once again I felt like it made the fic whole. I’m also anonymous on here so really, how vulnerable can I be? I am no poet, I am aware of that, but I am someone with a lot of emotions and a desire to express them. The poem essentially comes in two parts, the second part being written when I was having a better day. It may not seem that deep, and it probably isn’t, but it holds weight for me. That being said, here is some Saeyoung x MC, and I suppose, a little bit about myself. I hope you enjoy :)
~
“Why do you resist the calm?” they had asked.
Because calm comes with the promise of a
storm,
And the sting is much less felt from a fall
Out of an angel’s grip
Than a fall from their grace.
“Then why do you resist the storm?”
Because now, I have all the more to lose.
——
“But then answer me this,” they persevered,
“Would you not favour risking the fierce strike,
To feel the heavens kiss your skin
And witness the electric sky,
Than to waste away within your borders,
Having never learnt to dance in the rain?”
~
He was killing himself.
Eighteen years old. At this rate he wouldn’t live to see nineteen, inching closer to death’s cold embrace with every sleepless night and every meal skipped. Even off hours he was working, his fingers trembling as they danced across the keys for hours, days on end. He just needed to prove he was the best. He needed them to trust him.
Saeyoung was still technically in training, despite the fact that he was likely the most skilled hacker in the agency, let alone amongst the recruits. The agency were thrilled by his skills and work ethic, which was exactly what he needed.
He needed them to trust him to the point where they were dependent on him. If they needed him, then he would remain in the agency for as long as he lived, and therefore his other half was safe for that same length of time.
Whilst the agency didn’t care for their agents’ wellbeing in the slightest, they cared about losing something valuable to them. And, in this case, it was 707.
“They sent me to tell you to go the hell to bed,” came a voice from behind him.
He kept his eyes glued to the screen, “Then tell them to fuck off.”
“So you have a death wish?”
“You don’t?”
With a weary sigh, you sat at the computer next to him and he finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and his face devoid of any colour. Or life, for that matter. You looked him dead in the eye, “I get what you’re doing, but you’re not going to be any help if you’re a corpse.”
“I don’t care. That’s the boss’ problem, not mine.”
“I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about the person you’re protecting.”
His eyes shot to yours in panic, and you laughed despite yourself, “People don’t come here for a holiday, you idiot. Everyone who’s here is here for a reason, and we all know it’s the same reason.” You were the exception to that rule, but that wasn’t necessary for him to know.
He reclined in his chair and shut his eyes for what felt like the first time in days. Maybe it was.
You placed your hand on top of his, the action startling him a little, making you chuckle, “Listen, you don’t have to do all this. You’re better at this than all of us combined, the boss adores you. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” the soft smile that graced your features was enough to make Saeyoung feel more at ease. You were too kind. You didn’t belong there.
Your eyes flickered towards his computer screen and you sighed again, “I’m going to get you some water and some food whilst you finish up, but then you are getting some sleep.”
Saeyoung watched you as you left, and wondered how such a warm soul had found themselves in such an icy place. You were taking a huge risk by caring for him, and yet you did it without hesitation nor complaint. He couldn’t tell if that was down to altruism or naivety. He suspected it was both.
After you returned, he ate and drank as you took over his work, finishing the last bit of coding before shutting down the computer. He was surprised by your effortless ability to continue from where he left off, but was even more surprised by your willingness to do so. You stood up once you both finished and held out your hand for him, which he took, letting you hoist him to his feet as he discovered he was too weak stand on his own. With one arm around you for support, you led him back to the room.
Every recruit slept on the floor in the same damp room, and with your designated space being directly next to Saeyoung’s, you got to know one another. Not much, not at all, but a little goes a long way in such wretched circumstances.
You learnt that his mouth twitched when he had a nightmare, so you always woke up when it did so. He learnt that you subconsciously twiddled your thumbs when you couldn’t sleep, so he’d watch over you until you went still and your breath evened. Little by little, you learnt to look out for each other. You were in it together and, at least for a while, that was enough.
Usually, forming relationships of any kind within the agency was forbidden, but since he was the boss’ golden boy, he could get away with anything he damn well pleased. Not you, though. And whilst you were kind, you were no doormat.
The next morning, during working hours, you kicked up a fuss (rightfully so, Saeyoung thought) about a guard whose hands were wondering in a place they had no business being. The agency were not impressed by your reaction. They didn’t like your stubbornness or your strong will. They didn’t like your self-awareness.
You were taken away, and Saeyoung didn’t see you again until you came to bed long after the sun had set. You were practically chucked into the room, your crumpled form a heap on the hard floor, the cold biting at your bare skin.
Saeyoung struggled to see you in the darkness, but he could just about identify your silhouette as you heaved yourself up, dragging your weight towards your space. As you got closer, he could start to see the glisten from the tears that coated your face, trickling over bruised and slashed flesh. When you laid down, he carefully moved his hand to envelope yours, stroking the back of it with his thumb - a silent message carrying all that your feeble heart needed to hear. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m here. It’s not happening anymore. I’m not going anywhere.
You’re not alone.
His warm breath tickled your face, and you knew that if you edged forward, your forehead would meet his. With a moment’s hesitation, you did so, and that was where you remained until morning, desperately clutching on to the only sign of humanity that could be seen for miles, and the only man to touch you without teeth bared.
From then, you slept every night like that, inching closer and closer until finally his lips hesitantly grazed against your own. Tentative fingertips roamed over pebbled skin, and with a hand cradling your neck and a stroke of his tongue against your bottom lip, you welcomed him to take you completely with his illicit kiss. A reckless attempt to feel something, anything other than pure agony.
You were only children. Naive, daring, broken children who had never known love of any kind, but were somehow able to offer it.
You wished it could still be enough, that your quiet entanglement could be your one reason to hold on. But the tightrope you walked on became more turbulent everyday.
It was an enormous risk, but a risk you would take.
The guards became more hostile towards you after your incident, and their tolerance had reached an all time low. You were reported more often and your punishments became more brutal. You realised then that Hell wasn’t a place, it was a snap of a belt and a knick of a knife, a knee to the gut. You needed to escape.
A month after this began, you sent him a message. He was a good enough hacker that he was able to set up a chatroom that only you two could access, and that wouldn’t be detected by those higher up. It was your only safe haven, a trench on a battlefield. But burying yourself away from the action didn’t mean the war had ended.
606: I’m getting out of here.
707: there’s only one way out, and you what that is
606: That’s only if I don’t run fast enough.
707: they’ll kill you
606: Then so be it.
707: i’m not going to let that happen
606: It’s not your problem.
707: it is if it’s you.
606: You don’t even know me.
707: i know enough
606: I’m sorry
That night, you didn’t come back to your bed, and there was no sign of you other than the chilling echo of a gunshot that resonated through the building. Saeyoung crushed his eyelids shut, yet the tears still flowed as his teeth dug into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the bitter mix of salt and iron consuming his taste buds.
A rumour got around that you had tried to run and were shot on sight. You were used as a cautionary tale for new recruits. Apparently they had the CCTV footage. Apparently they showed them the pictures. Saeyoung wouldn’t know, he stopped listening.
From that day forward, he put his headphones on and worked. He worked until his fingers bled and blistered, reminding himself everyday of why he couldn't rock the boat unless he could see the shore, especially in such turbulent waters. You took that chance, and you couldn’t even swim.
Saeyoung found your name two days after you disappeared.
MC.
A picture of you from your life before also came up in his search, and he threw up in the bathroom as the image of you smiling slowly morphed into that of your limp and bloodied body, eyes wide open as they pierced into his own, haunting him. One day he would avenge you, and one day, in another life, he would see your smile again.
But today, he had to work.
“Why do you resist the calm?” they would ask.
Because calm comes with the promise of the
storm,
And the sting is much less felt from a fall
out of an angel’s grip
Than a fall from their grace.
***
“707! On your right!”
Swivelling around, Saeyoung deftly aimed his gun at the guard approaching, landing a perfect shot between the eyes. His aim was so accurate, in fact, that he landed it with his own eyes closed. He never looked, he could never stomach it. “Vanderwood, you keep a look out. I’m going to scope out the place.”
“Roger that.”
Missions were the most onerous part of the job for Saeyoung. With every bullet and every crimson stain on another body, he felt a piece of whatever innocence he had disappear. Scar tissue was harder than skin, and at that point, he felt he had no softness left.
This mission, however, was particularly demanding. The opposing side outnumbered Vanderwood and himself by a long shot, but they somehow managed to hold their own. They were both convinced they had taken down everyone in the building, so he was caught off guard when he entered what he thought was an empty room, only to find himself face-to-face, or gun-to-gun with someone who should have been dead hours ago.
Or, upon inspection, years ago.
“...MC?”
He lowered his gun but you kept your hold strong, eyes never wavering from his. His mouth was agape as he took in the sight before him. Your hair had grown, you were thinner, and he could have sworn your eyes had lost their colour.
But God, there was still something so ineffably beautiful about you. That much hadn’t changed.
Saeyoung had dropped the gun completely, the clash of metal against metal pervading the room, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Yeah? Well I believed you to be dead for years now so I think my question is a tad fucking more valid.”
For a split second, he swore he saw your lips quiver before you pressed them into a thin line, “You were always a better hacker, 707, but I was a better frontliner. I got away with merely a bullet to the arm. But as they say, birds of a feather flock together, and it wasn’t long until I was found and recruited by someone else. Fate never favoured me, clearly.”
You held your aim, but he noticed your eyes go glassy and your knees almost buckle under your weight, and only then did he register the wound on your thigh and the ominous maroon pool on the floor next to you. His heart rate shot up, “MC…I need you to lower the gun.”
“How the fuck do you know my name?”
“That’s not important, what matters is that you’re gonna bleed out if we don’t do something about that wound right now.”
“Then I guess we’ll bleed out together,” you said, your voice strangled but your aim never faltering.
“You don’t really want that though, do you?” Saeyoung said quietly, his arms up as he creeped towards you until there was no empty space between you and him, only the barrel of your gun. Carefully, he took hold of it and tugged it out of you grasp, an arm around your waist as he lowered your collapsing form onto the floor.
The colour left your face as beads of sweat started to trickle across your features. Saeyoung took out a bandage from his utility belt and started to wrap up the wound. It would need to be treated properly, but it was enough to get you out of there.
You watched him intently as he attended to you, the same crease forming between his eyebrows from when he worked. It was strange the things you remember about another person. Only then did you realise just how much you had longed for him in the years gone by, and hot tears spilled from your eyes before you had time to register them.
His attention immediately averted to your face, cradling it with both hands as he brushed away your tears with the pad of his thumb, “Hey hey hey, you’re okay. We’re gonna get you out of here, I’m not leaving you.”
“What’s the point? I won’t last a month out there on my own.”
“You’re not going to be on your own. Like I said, I’m not leaving you. You don’t belong in a place like this, and soon you won’t have to,” he rested his forehead on yours, just like you used to, “I need you to trust me.”
“I’d be a burden.”
“You would never. Not to me.”
You eyed him carefully, trying to find any mark of dishonesty on his face, but all you saw was heartache. “Your name,” you croaked, your bones growing heavier with every passing second, “I need to know your name.”
“Saeyoung,” he answered coolly, “Saeyoung Choi.”
He tucked one arm under your knees and the other under your middle as he stood up, effortlessly manoeuvring through the building as he carried you. Vanderwood was waiting outside, exasperation etched on his face as he took in the sight of you both, “Seriously? What the hell is this?”
“No questions, Vanderwood. Just drive,” he ordered as he glided into the backseat with you still in his arms. Setting you down carefully, he checked your injury before taking out his phone and calling the top name on his short list of contacts, “Jumin, it’s me. I need a favour.”
The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t long until your leg was being treated privately in the penthouse of none other than the director of C&R International, Jumin Han. You recognised him from the news, and his association with Saeyoung only raised more questions about his life after you left.
Once the doctor and Jumin Han left, Saeyoung moved to perch on the edge of your bed, gently rubbing your knee, “How’re you feeling?”
“Better…thank you. But, I still don’t know what you expect me to do now. I can’t stay here forever.”
“I have made some arrangements,” he explained, inching closer to you, “You can now go by your real name, and you will become a part of a charity organisation called the RFA, taking the role of ‘party coordinator’. Myself and Jumin are also members and we, as well as the others, will protect you. We have an apartment for you, and you will be safe there. You can start afresh.”
Your eyes widened, sceptical that fate had had such a quick change of heart, “What about the agency? And everyone else who wants me dead?”
“I’m dealing with it.”
“I can’t let you to do that.”
“It’s not your choice.”
You both sat in a heavy silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually you moved over, inviting him to take the space next to you. He did so, sliding up until you were lying face-to-face with the man that you thought had slipped out of your grasp. Surely it was all too good to be true.
“There’s one catch though.”
And there it was. Too good indeed.
You cocked an eyebrow, and he continued, “If this is to work, we need to keep our distance. You can’t be close to me when I’m still an agent, it’s too risky. After tonight, I’m your colleague at the RFA and nothing more,” you opened your mouth to object, but he cut you off before you had the opportunity, “No, this is non-negotiable. It’s too dangerous and I’m not taking any chances,” he paused, his next words almost a whisper, “I’m not losing you twice.”
Something in your chest ached, but you understood. You had to. As long as he was an agent and was working to erase your soiled past, getting close to him would be too dangerous for the both of you. He was essentially betraying his agency, and if they found out, even he couldn’t get away with it. This was the only way.
So for one last time you grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest as you closed your eyes. He pressed a kiss against your forehead before placing his own there, in same position as when you were young, but now your minds a little wiser and your hearts a little more bruised. You prayed that you could stay like that forever, that the sun would never rise and you would never have to let go.
But morning was inevitable, and with the first rays of sunshine that filtered through the curtains, Saeyoung untangled himself from you and drove himself back to his bunker, refusing to grant himself the luxury of looking back.
Headphones back over his ears and a soda in hand, he began to work, taking himself back to the quiet agony he resided in, his hiding place from the devil that knocked on his door.
“Then why do you resist the storm?”
Because now, I have all the more to lose.
***
Your legs were dangling over the clifftop as you overlooked the city in the distance. You observed as more building lights flickered off the longer you sat. You wondered whether all the lights would disappear if you waited there long enough, leaving you completely alone on the outskirts of the city you built your new life on.
But either way, you would never truly be alone, would you?
“You know, for a trained agent, you’re not very stealthy,” you said smoothly.
“Like you said, you were far better on the frontline than I was,” Saeyoung replied, “Besides, it was intentional. I thought I shouldn’t startle you when you’re so close to the edge.”
You smirked and gave a hollow laugh, “Literally or figuratively?”
“I don’t know, MC,” he said softly, sitting down next to you, “You tell me.”
It had been a little over a year since you started your new life, and you found it crazy how much had gone down in such a short amount of time. After everything that happened with the Mint Eye, you couldn’t believe that everyone returned alive. And better yet, Saeyoung returned with his brother, meaning he no longer relied on the agency, so he managed to worm his way out of their fierce grip. He became boundless, and so did you. Things were looking up, things we’re finally changing.
But still, nothing had changed between you two.
You rested your head on his shoulder, both of you looking out onto the city until he finally broke the dense silence, “What are you thinking about?”
You took a deep breath, “I don’t think I was meant to live this long,” you began, “I should have been shot that night I ran, or bled to death the day our base was infiltrated. Hell, I should have died in that alleyway before they took me away.” That last part was new information to Saeyoung. He never knew that’s how you were recruited, and he suddenly felt his blood begin to boil. He tensed, trying to conceal his anger. “Yet, somehow, the universe kept me living and as well as that, kept bringing you to me. Like a guardian angel, I suppose. But life’s never really that generous is it? Because every time you came back, I could only get so close. You were just a trick of light,” your voice cracked at the same time his heart did, and he laid his head upon yours, “You’re free now, Saeyoung. When are you going to stop shutting me out?”
He sighed, “There are people out there who hate me, MC, and want more than just me dead. Escaping the agency hasn’t changed that, it has left us in the same place as before. The closer you are to me, the less safe you are.”
“I don’t want safety, Saeyoung. I want you,” you turned to face him, but he was already standing up and walking away, hands shoved in his pockets. “So now I can’t even talk to you?” you yelled after him, getting up from your own seat on the ground.
“I already know what you are going to say. I’ve told you so many times before-“
“Yes, and I listened, now it’s your turn. I’m sick of both of us taking away the other’s right to choose. We’re going to decide our future together, right now, and in order to do that we need to listen to each other.”
He watched you silently for a moment, but you continued, attempting to swallow down the lump in your throat, “I used to dream of a life that was simple, plain sailing. A life where pain was a myth and everything was nothing short of a fairy tale. Every night I dreamed of that life, and every night I prayed for morning to never come so I could stay in that dream forever, because it was easier to hide there than to scrape through a day in the hell that was my reality. And then there was you, and you were kind and you cared for me when I thought I deserved nothing, that I was nothing. I realised then that I didn’t want to live in that dream anymore, you know why? Because you weren’t in it. Because I knew that being in love with you wouldn’t be easy-“
“Don’t throw that word around so carelessly.”
“Carelessly? When I ran away and heard that gunshot, the first image that came to my mind was you. Does that mean nothing to you? I’m about to die and I don’t feel fear, just a stabbing regret that I left behind the one thing that finally made me grateful for every sunrise,” you sobbed, tears now streaming down your face, “Saeyoung, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop. If you don’t feel the same way, I will leave you alone. But if you tell me that you want me too, then how can you expect me to just walk away from you?”
“You could die.”
“I could not.”
“I’m not willing to take that risk.”
“But what if I am?” you cried, your body trembling, “What if I want to die having loved you rather than die having never known what it was like to do so?”
“It would be like loving a monster, because that’s what I am.”
“Not to me. Not ever.”
Saeyoung couldn’t take his eyes off you, his clenched fists shaking by his side and his mind reeling. His heart was screaming at him to go to you, to hold you in his arms and tell you that he fell in love with you in a place where love didn’t even exist. That he has loved you since you were young and broken, and loved you more with every day that you grew older together. But his brain ordered him to hold back, and so he did. His head would always have power over his heart, that was his rule.
The soft peal of thunder could be heard in the distance as rain started to shower, quickly soaking your hair and clothes. Saeyoung looked at you with pleading eyes, “Get in the car, MC, I’m taking you home. You’ll get sick if we stay out here.”
“You said before that you wouldn’t lose me twice,” you continued, ignoring his request, “but you lost me for the second time when you told me to keep my distance. I know you said it to protect me and I appreciate that, I really do, but you no longer get to decide that kind of thing on my behalf,” you stepped towards him until your faces were a breath away from each other, “I want you in my life, Saeyoung, and everything that comes with you. Please, you’ve been through enough tragedy and heartache, stop depriving yourself of what your heart yearns for. It’s a fleeting little life, take a risk and live it.”
Saeyoung’s heart was pounding so hard against his ribcage that he thought it would crack. He studied how your eyelashes glistened from the raindrops, before they slid down your cheek and rested at the point of your chin. He no longer knew where the raindrops ended and the tears began, but he did know that he couldn't hold back anymore. For once, he would let his heart take the wheel.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before he held your face in the calloused palm of his hand, tilting it up until your lips met. He revelled in the way your lips moved against his, the same way they did when you were kids. He knew your kiss better than the back of his hand, and he wanted to kick himself for keeping you at arms length when you belonged in their embrace. Saeyoung could finally understand what you meant, because he would happily drown in your kiss if it meant he could feel the way he did in that moment for the rest of his life.
Every nerve in his body lit up as he deepened the kiss, fire dancing through his veins as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands running through his hair. With a moment of boldness, he moved his hands to sit on your waist as he pulled your closer to him, your bodies flush against each other.
When you both broke away to breathe, he tucked his face into your neck, his eyelashes tickling against your skin as his eyes fluttered shut. He didn’t particularly believe in destiny, but having you in his arms made him entertain the idea. He would no longer deprive you of the love you deserved, nor would he deprive himself of the love he desired.
There was a lot of healing to do, and it would take time, you both knew that. Trust doesn’t come naturally to those born in a storm. But you can’t soothe the storm, nor can you live in the calm before it, you can only weather it. And if you were by his side, then what was a little bit of thunder?
You both stood there in each other’s embrace, completely sodden but passed the point of caring. You wanted to savour that moment, because that was the first time in both your lives where you felt completely at ease in your bliss; and when it rains, it pours.
“But then answer me this,” they persevered,
“Would you not favour risking the fierce strike,
To feel the heavens kiss your skin
And witness the electric sky,
Than to waste away within your borders
Having never learnt to dance in the rain?”
***
#mystic messenger#mystic messenger fanfic#mystic messenger fanfiction#mysme#saeyoung x mc#luciel x mc#seven x mc#707 x mc#saeyoung choi#luciel choi#mm seven#mm 707#my writing
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No Time To Die
My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.
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“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.
Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.
He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.
Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.
“Is there a way in?” Sin asked.
“There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.
There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.
Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.
Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.
“I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.
“Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”
Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”
“Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.
“Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.
Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently.
He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.
Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.
Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.
Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.
He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down.
Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”
“I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”
“Wrong answer.”
Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.
Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.
These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.
No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.
There! A door at the far wall.
Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.
The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.
“The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”
“Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.
“You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”
“I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.
The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”
“When who’s ready?”
But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.
It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.
Only fighting and surviving.
Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.
The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?
The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.
Great, now she was rambling in her head.
She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”
“Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.
“Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.
“We have a mutual friend.”
“Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.
The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”
“If it’s on a map, I can find it.”
“Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”
“That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.
It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit?
She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible.
Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.
“Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.
Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.
“You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.
The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.
“I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”
She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment.
“Where is he?”
Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.
Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.
“That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.
Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second.
“She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.
“Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.
For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.
“The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”
“Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”
“Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.
“Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”
A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.
“...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”
His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.
She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.
“Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”
She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.
“Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.
“I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.
Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.
“What did you find?”
Oliver’s voice reached her first.
“Lance has a spy.”
He shook his head.
“Not possible. No one knows about this.”
Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”
“I don’t have friends.”
She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.
Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.
“You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”
He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”
“Show me what you were wearing.”
Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.
“You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”
Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.
Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.
“Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.
“What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”
“Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.
Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”
Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.
Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.
“His name was Yao Fei.”
“Who?”
“You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”
She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?
Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.
“Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.
While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.
“You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”
“A what?” Dig asked.
“It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”
The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.
“They must have planted it on you during the fight.”
Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”
Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.
“This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”
“Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”
“No. Give it to me.”
Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”
He took a step forward.
“There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”
Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.
“Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.”
He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word.
Rage fit better.
“Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Promise me you’ll come back.”
Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.
Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.
He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.
“Dig. Take care of her.”
Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.
They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble.
Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.
“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”
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Cutting Roots
Drabble for @tendaysoftenzo 3 (Rouge Ninja) and Day 4 (Sensei)
Summary: It all happens fast. Mokuton responds to emotions and Tenzou’s angry. Next thing he knows, he’s got Danzou’s blood on his hands, 2 kids in dire need of a medic, and a horrible suspicion about the Uchiha Massacre.
Rating: Teen (curse words, blood, canon typical violence)
At first Kakashi tried to ignore the banging, but it just kept going and the front door didn’t deserve that abuse.
Kakashi rolled off the couch and heaved himself to his feet with a groan. A quick glance at the clock said it was just after 2AM. I’m going to give them so much shit, the teenager grumbled. He hadn’t been asleep, but it was a principles thing. When someone takes 3 days off for bereavement, you don’t show up at their house at 2 in the morning.
“The world better be ending,” Kakashi growled as he pulled the door open. The words died on his lips as he recognized the anbu on his doorstep.
Tenzou was wearing his sleeping clothes, gray standard issue for anbu. A splatter of what Kakashi assumed was blood crossed his chest. His shoulder length hair was messy and his eyes were too wide.
Something was very wrong.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Tenzou said. His voice was hollow. “We need help.”
Kakashi pulled the door open the rest of the way. Standing behind Tenzou were 2 kids. They couldn’t be more than 5 or 6. The taller one, his hair looked about the same color as Kakashi’s in the moonlight, leaned heavily on the smaller, dark haired one. They both stared at Kakashi with blank expressions.
Kakashi noticed they were both armed like shinobi, from the kunai holsters on their thighs to the swords on their backs. He stepped back inside and pulled the door with him, a silent invitation.
Tenzou staggered inside and the kids trailed him to Kakashi’s kitchen.
Kakashi stuck his head out the front door and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of any pursuers, for now.
Kakashi grabbed the first aid kit out of the kitchen cabinet and turned to Tenzou first. In the light of the kitchen, it was definitely blood on his gray shirt.
“Where are you hurt?” Kakashi asked.
Tenzou shook his head. “It’s not my blood.”
Kakashi narrowed his eye at his kohai. He couldn’t see any visible injuries.
“Shin’s sick,” Kakashi glanced at the kids. It was the dark haired one who’d spoken. He was holding the other boy upright in one of Kakashi’s chairs.
Kakashi gave Tenzou one more look over before he shifted his focus to the kids.
Kakashi crouched down beside Shin. The other kid shied away from Kakashi, but refused to leave Shin’s side.
“I won’t hurt him,” Kakashi promised softly.
The dark haired boy looked skeptical, but he didn’t draw a kunai so Kakashi wasn’t too worried.
Shin, didn’t look good. His skin was cold and clammy, and his cheeks were flushed with fever. At Kakashi’s urging he opened his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to focus on the shinobi’s face.
Kakashi put his ear against the kid’s chest and listened. Even without a stethoscope, he could hear the way each breath rattled.
Kakashi stood up and stepped back. “Shin needs to go to the hospital.”
The dark haired kid’s grip on Shin’s hand tightened.
“Can’t,” Tenzou muttered. “The hospital will just send him back to the anbu health center. They have orders not to interfere with Root.”
Kakashi whipped around and stared at Tenzou.
Tenzou was staring down at the blood on his shirt.
“You mean these kids are Root?” Kakashi demanded.
Tenzou didn’t say anything, just dabbed at the blood with his finger.
“Danzou-sama trained us,” the dark haired kid said from behind Kakashi.
Kakashi didn’t take his off of Tenzou. “How long do we have before Danzou’s on my doorstep? Does he know you took them?”
“I killed him.” The words fell out of Tenzou’s mouth like rocks. He blinked a couple times, like he’d surprised himself.
Kakashi’s eyes went wide. His mind was moving miles a minute. The only thought that stuck was, we can’t stay.
“He was making them fight,” Tenzou’s voice rose in pitch and volume, “Like Kiri. Like the Bloody Mist.” He sounded half hysterical when he finally looked up and met Kakashi’s horrified stare.
“Fuck.”
“I didn’t mean to do it. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Itachi and I thought a walk would clear my head. I heard them in the arena and went to see who was training. When I saw Danzou and the kids, I knew what was going, but I asked anyway.” Tenzou’s chin quivers and his voice wavered. “Danzou told me and he said things…” Tenzou trailed off. His mouth twisted into an angry snarl, “things about the Third, the clan heads, and the Uchiha. He said things about you and Itachi and it just happened.”
Judging by the way the wooden floor was sprouting little branches and grabbing at Kakashi’s ankles, he didn’t have to guess what “it” was. Tenzou’s mokuton was powerful and it responded as much to his emotions as much as his thought. He’d worked so hard to wrestle it into submission, but there was only so much control you could exert over a kekkei genkai you were never meant to have.
“Good.” Kakashi’s tone left no room for argument and it surprised him as much as it did Tenzou. Just like that the tension in the room broke.
Tenzou’s shoulders sagged with both exhaustion and relief.
“Go get cleaned up,” Kakashi ordered. “Grab some clothes out of my closet and start packing go bags. Mine’s already packed, but you and the kids will need gear. It’s not the worth the risk of going back to the anbu compound.”
Tenzou nodded once and made for the stairs.
Kakashi turned back to the kids. “What’s your name?” he asked the dark haired boy.
The kid hesitated.
“ ‘S kay, Sai,” the other kid mumbled. His head was resting on Sai’s shoulder. If Sai moved, he would have fallen out of the chair.
The dark haired boy, Sai, glanced between Shin and Kakashi. “My name’s Sai. This is my brother, Shin. Please don’t let him die.”
Kakashi felt like someone kicked him in the chest. Instead of Sai, he was looking at another dark haired kid. “Promise me you’ll protect Rin.”
Kakashi took a shuddering breath. “I’ll do what I can. I’m not a medic.”
Sai nodded. He could accept that.
“I’m going to move him to the couch,” Kakashi said. He figured if he didn’t startle the kids, they were less likely to instinctively put a kunai between his ribs. He’d seen first hand how efficient and skilled Root made their anbu. Just because they were kids didn’t mean they weren’t lethal.
Kakashi slipped a hand under Shin’s knees and another behind his shoulders and lifted him out of the chair. The kid seemed to weigh nothing. He shivered and shifted in Kakashi’s arms, pressing closer.
Sai trailed Kakashi like a shadow from the kitchen to the living room.
Kakashi hummed softly. He remembered his dad doing this when he was small and sick. If the tune had words, Kakashi’d never learned them.
“Can you put a pot of water on the stove and get it boiling?” Kakashi asked Sai.
Sai nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Kakashi stared down at Shin and considered his options. He had some fever tablets. They could bundle him in blankets and try to sweat out the fever, but that wouldn’t do anything for his lungs. They were definitely full of fluid.
Kakashi checked Shin’s bulse. It was light, fast, and irregular. The fever was the easiest thing to treat, but probably not the thing most likely to kill him.
Sai stuck his head back in. “It’s boiling.”
Kakashi nodded. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around Shin. “Good. The steam might help clear his lungs.”
Kakashi carried the pot into the living room and set it on a stack of hot pads beside the couch. He put the fever tablets in Shin’s mouth. They were the sort that dissolved.
“How long has he been sick?” Kakashi asked Sai.
“Forever. He coughs when we run and sometimes he wakes up and he can’t breathe. It’s been getting worse for 3 months. He used to cough a lot, but not anymore,” Sai explained.
Kakashi nodded. “Where do you sleep?”
“We have barracks.”
“Cold, damp, crowded?”
“Yeah. Lots of people get sick. Danzou-sama takes them away when they complain and we don’t see them again. Shin didn’t say anything, because he didn’t want to leave me,” Sai’s voice was small and he clutched the hem of his black shirt in little fists.
Kakashi wanted to scream. Instead he held his breath and counted to five before he let it out. “Watch Shin. I’m going to go see if I have any other medicine upstairs.”
Sai settled on the floor beside the couch without a word.
Kakashi found upstairs Tenzou digging through the closet for blankets.
“How are you holding up?” Kakashi asked.
Tenzou shook his head. “I don’t know. I feel numb.”
“I don’t know if Shin is going to make it. I’m thinking he’s got pneumonia and probably something else too. Pneumonia’s usually a secondary infection.”
Tenzou sighed. “They didn’t want to fight. Danzou was trying to force them. The other kids ran when I… Shin wasn’t able to run and Sai wouldn’t leave him.”
“I’ve got some antibiotics in the medicine cabinet. They’re old, but they might help,” Kakashi sighed. “I need to know what Danzou said about Itachi.”
Tenzou hugged the blanket he was folding to his chest. “He didn’t say anything outright, but the comparison he was making was between you and me and Itachi. He said Itachi was a good soldier. That the new Root were all good soldiers.”
Kakashi leaned against the wall. The world was spinning. He and Tenzou shared the same critical flaw in Danzou’s eyes. The fact that they were both still breathing was evidence to their failure as soldiers. They questioned orders. They disobeyed orders. They failed to kill each other and failed to kill their hearts.
“I think Itachi might have been following orders,” Tenzou gave voice to the half formed thought Kakashi was trying to grasp.
“Fuck,” Kakashi breathed.
Tenzou just nodded. They’d both taken Itachi’s betrayal hard, but Kakashi had seemed determined to shoulder the blame. He was Itachi’s captain for 2 years, he said he should have seen the instability in the Uchiha.
“I can’t think about this right now,” Kakashi muttered. He turned on his heel and began ransacking the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.
The bottle of antibiotics was almost full. They were woefully out of date, but Kakashi’d read that most medication remained effective well after its expiration date so he’d kept them. The bigger issue was that they were dosed for an adult man.
Behind the antibiotics were an untouched steroid dose pack. Kakashi grabbed those too. They’d been meant to be taken alongside the antibiotics.
Kakashi mentally did the math, guessing at how much Shin weighed and how to break the pills, as he walked back down the stairs.
Sai had moved from the floor to the arm of the couch, where he could perch and easily keep his fingers on the pulse point in Shin’s throat.
Kakashi decided to give the kid a whole antibiotic and half the starting dose out of the steroid pack.
SInce it looked unlikely that Shin could swallow the pills, Kakashi ground them up and mixed them with a little bit of milk, it was the only thing he had that might mask some of the flavor.
“This is going to taste pretty awful,” Kakashi warned Shin. He wasn’t even sure the kid could hear him now. “But you need to try to swallow it.”
The sludgy mixture slid down Shin’s tongue and he whined. His face scrunched up, but he didn’t try to spit it out.
“Good job,” Kakashi soothed.
Shin seemed to settle.
Sai looked at Kakashi. His eyes were so dark that Kakashi couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris started. It gave him a perpetually wide eyed look. With his blank expression, he reminded Kakashi of the old legends about fae and changelings. “What happens now?” Sai asked.
Kakashi hesitated. “We’ll see how Shin is in a couple hours and go from there.”
Sai nodded. “We’re traitors now, aren’t we?”
Kakashi flinched.
“No. The village betrayed us first,” Tenzou said from the bottom of the stairs. He had 3 backpacks in his arms that he dumped on the floor by the door. “Danzou did horrible things. The village is better without him.”
Sai looked at Tenzou and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “But we’ll need to run away right?”
Tenzou glanced at Kakashi. “You and Shin are going to go with me. We’ll find someplace nice and quiet where Shin can get better.”
Kakashi frowned. “I’m going with you.”
Tenzou shook his head. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m telling you. I’m going with you and we’re going to get answers.” Kakashi’s jaw was set and there was a spark of fire in his dark eye that Tenzou hadn’t seen since the Uchiha Massacre.
Tenzou motioned for Kakashi to step into the kitchen. Out of sight and earshot of the kids, Tanzou met Kakashi’s questioning stare. “You want to go after Itachi.” It wasn’t a question.
Kakashi nodded. He’d argued against it just 2 days ago, when the blood hadn’t even dried yet. He refused to kill Itachi and he refused to let Tenzou shoulder that burden. Now, they had an excuse to take Itachi alive.
“If Danzou ordered the massacre, he set Itachi up to take the blame. Itachi may have escaped the village, but there’s got to be Root anbu on his trail. Danzou couldn’t afford to have Itachi tell anyone the truth behind the massacre. It’d tear the village apart. At the very least the Hyuga would riot.”
“Assuming Itachi didn’t just snap like we all thought.” Tenzou said it without any weight. It didn’t make sense. Never had.
Kakashi nodded. “I want answers and Itachi needs backup. Even if he’s batshit crazy, he’s still part of Team Ro.”
Tenzou smiled at that. For someone with the title of Friend-Killer, Kakashi was the most loyal person Tenzou’d ever met. He pretended not to care, but when shit hit the fan, Kakashi was always ride or die. It was exactly why Tenzou knew he could do this. “I need you to stay here,” Tenzou said.
Kakashi’s head jerked in surprise. He’d thought when Tenzou smiled that the discussion was over.
“I need someone here that I can trust and pass information to,” Tenzou explained. “I made this mess. I need to clean it up.”
“And Itachi’s my mess,” Kakashi argued.
Tenzou folded his arms. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. He was Danzou’s mess and, as the most senior member of Root, now he’s mine.”
Kakashi opened his mouth to keep arguing, but Tenzou cut him off.
“When Danzou’s death is discovered, it’s going to throw the village off balance. The Third loved him like a brother. Knowing how he reacted to Minato’s death and Orochimaru’s betrayal, it’d be foolish not to expect every politically hungry creep to come out of the woodwork and take advantage of the situation.”
Kakashi nodded. The Third had been relatively passive his second term. Everyone knew he’d lost his edge and his confidence with Orochimaru’s defection. If Kakashi were being generous he’d say that was why the man had such a blindspot towards Danzou.
“I need you here, the village needs you here, and so does Itachi. He left Sasuke for a reason.”
Kakashi’s shoulders dropped in defeat. Whatever deal Itachi had made with Danzou was now void. If the youngest Uchiha had any political protection, it died with Danzou. There were a lot of eyes on Sasuke and none of them were friendly.
Tenzou saw the fight go out of Kakashi.
“Alright. I’ll let you go, but if you get yourself into trouble I’m coming after you.”
Tenzou nodded and put his hand on Kakashi’s shoulder.
Kakashi pulled Tenzou into a hug. It was stiff and awkward, but neither of them made any move to pull away. Kakashi noted that Tenzou’d had another growth spurt they were about the same height now and with Tenzou being 2 years younger than him, there was no doubt that he was going to end up taller.
After a long minute, Kakashi let go of Tenzou.
“Let’s go take care of you kohai,” Kakashi muttered and nudged Tenzou back towards the living room.
Kakashi watched Tenzou for a second before following. He was gangly, like most 14 year olds, but he moved like a vveteran shinobi. Kakashi knew Tenzou could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of letting him go alone.
Tenzou was bent over Shin, checking the kid’s temperature when Kakashi picked his way over to the couch.
Kakashi caught Sai’s eye. “Congrats, you’re getting promoted. Welcome to Team Rho. We’ve got an impressive mission record, so don’t mess it up.”
Sai sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.
Under his mask, Kakashi’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. “Our first mission is to determine the truth behind the Uchiha Massacre and whether or not Danzou Shimaru intentionally destabilized the village. I’ll be running point in Konoha. Tenzou-san will be leading the away cell.”
Tenzou blinked in surprise. “I guess that means I’m getting a promotion too?”
“You were due,” Kakashi shrugged. “The 3 of you should get some sleep. I’ll watch Shin and wake you up before dawn.”
Sai reluctantly let Kakashi make him a bed on the opposite end of the couch from Shin. THey were both so small that their feet didn’t even touch.
Next, Kakashi shooed Tenzou upstairs to the bedroom.
Kakashi took up Sai’s previous post on the arm of the couch and watched the kids sleep.
Tenzou didn’t sleep long. An hour later, he was back in the living room. He sat on the floor by Kakashi’s feet and didn’t say a word.
Tenzou listened to the boys’ breathing and Kakashi humming softly. His heart was racing. His mind kept replaying the night over and over again, like it was still trying to believe that it had actually happened.
Danzou had raised him. He’d thought of Danzou as his father for most of his life. When he learned the truth, he’d hated the man. But even then, the hate had been tainted. How could he really hate the man who made him what he was. Who was he without Danzou?
Shin whimpered in his sleep.
Kakashi reached out to brush a hand across his sweat soaked forehead and murmured soothing promises until the boy settled.
Tenzou tensed. The magnitude of what he was taking on crashed down on him. He had no memories of his life before are 6 when Danzou saved him from Orochimaru’s abandoned lab. When he was sick, Danzou told him to push through it. When he was hurt, Danzou told him to get used to the pain. When he was scared, Danzou told him to bury it.
Tenzou had no idea how to care for a kid, let alone a kid like him.
“Stop panicking,” Kakashi ordered. His voice was low to keep from waking the kids.
Tenzou took a shuddering breath.
“Just be the person you need when you were their age,” Kakashi whispered.
Tenzou closed his eyes and nodded. He couldn’t get the words out around the lump in his throat to tell Kakashi that he was the person Tenzou had needed.
“You can do this.”
---
Shin’s fever broke an hour before sunrise and he slipped deeper into an exhausted sleep.
Kakashi bundled the kid in a couple blankets and settled him in Tenzou’s arms.
Sai knew how to shuushin, so the 2 older anbu figured he’d be able to keep up.
Kakashi stood in the doorway and watched the road long after the 3 Root anbu had disappeared.
When the sun started to brush the roof, kakashi went inside to burn Tenzou’s bloodstained sleeping clothes and destroy the rest of the evidence of his housemate.
Too full of adrenaline to sleep, Kakashi spent the rest of the morning drafting his resignation from the anbu. With 2 of his teammates rogue shinobi, he’d never be trusted again. Besides, Kakashi had a mission and he could do it better outside of the anbu. Sasuke needed someone to protect him and train him. Danzou had been the driving force behind Konoha’s jinchuuriki policy. With him dead, Kakashi intended to carry out the promise he’d made to Minato and Kushina’s graves.
Tenzou had his kohai. It was time for Kakashi to go get his.
---
Tenzou stopped late in the morning, just outside of a small town in the middle of nowhere.
Sai was exhausted and Shin’s fever was back. It was time for Shin to get another dose of medication and they were far enough from Konoha that Tenzou was willing to let their little team rest.
The woman at the front desk of the town’s only inn took one look at the tall, skinny teenager in an anbu uniform and the 2 kids with him and handed the teen a room key. One look was all it took to decide this was the sort of shinobi stuff you didn’t interfere with.
As soon as the door was open, Sai staggered in and collapsed onto the nearest of the 2 double beds. Tenzou was pretty sure the kid was asleep before his legs stopped moving.
Tenzou settled Shin on the other side of the same bed as Sai and dug the medicine Kakashi had sent out of his backpack.
Shin stirred and opened his eyes.
“Hey,” Tenzou said softly.
“Hi,” Shin mumbled. He smiled when Sai scrambled across the bed and pressed himself against Shin’s side.
“Think you can swallow some pills?” Tenzou asked.
Shin nodded. He took the pills Tenzou put in his hand and sipped from a water bottle. There was color back in his face and when he coughed it sounded like the fluid in his lungs was breaking up.
Tenzou breathed a sigh of relief. They were going to make it. They’d stay here for a few days, let the search parties pass them by, and then make for the Land of Rain. The last reports had Itachi crossing the border and heading towards Ame with a masked man.
Note: I might come back and add to this piece someday, but I’ve already got an in-progress long fic, so for now this will stay as a drabble.
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The Ocean
Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3
The event was really cool.
Percy stuck with Triton as he was told to. Listening to them talk and trade carefully worded insults? Though they seemed teasing enough.
He managed to keep his cool, and when they talked to him he responded with polite insults of his own.
He wasn’t as good at it as a lot of them, but he decided he’d get better at it.
Triton had lectured him before about his anger getting the best of him, in the sea hiding your intent was too important to let your anger get the best of you. Unless of course you’re powerful enough to get away with it.
Spoiler: Percy was not.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
The food was yummy, he really liked it.
There were all kinds of fish, he thinks its like sushi, and some strange seaweed dishes. Triton ate everything first, showing him how to hold the utensils when used, and how to eat it by hand when they weren’t.
There weren’t any drinks, but that made sense. They were underwater after all.
Percy hid a grin as he watched Triton tear apart one of the guests that had been too blatantly rude to Percy. Of course, Triton was careful about it, sounding perfectly polite while he insulted the mers everything. From the way his tail curled to the tacky hair pieces in his hair. Nothing escaped Triton’s insults.
Percy thought it was hilarious.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Interacting with the other mers was a fun experience, he got to learn a lot about how the manners worked through actual talking. And he learned that insulting a mers tail gets you a lot of hate.
Only one mer had a tail anywhere near as flowy as Percy’s too.
She was nice, with pale green skin and flowy red hair. She showed off some of her magic, twisting the water around her into a mini current that spun little fishies in a circle around her.
Percy watched delighted, until one of the mer asked him to show his magic.
Triton gave him a nod though so he guessed he could.
He swallowed and considered for a moment, maybe….
He raised his hands, then twisted them and spread them apart, the temperature dropping between his hands until he had a block of ice. He sliced his hands down through the water and willed the ice to shift how he wanted it to.
A moment later and the ice was shaped like a fish.
He focused again. This was a trick he’d played dozens of times on a smaller scale in his glasses of water.
It was hard with a small fish, but a big one was even harder.
He carefully swiped one hand, the tail shifted, moving slowly side to side.
After a long moment the fish started ‘moving’ in the water. The tails and fins moving pretty closely in sync as he willed the water around the ice to guide it.
The other mers murmured to each other.
“That’s a difficult bit of magic there.”
Percy glanced at the speaker, a mermaid with Blue hair and deep green skin. Her tail was sleeker than Tritons, she didn’t have much magic it seemed. But she would probably be very dangerous and fast.
“Oh, I suppose so, I do it for fun when I’m bored in class.”
“What!?” Cried a merman in surprise.
Triton was smirking behind them.
“That’s rather impressive, who was your teacher? Surely you must have a skilled Thermomancer as a teacher to have such skills.”
Percy kept a straight face even as he wondered over the word the mer used, Thermomancer? What was that?
“My teachers name is Katara, she’s very skilled in water and ice.”
He couldn’t risk using the term Thermomancer until he knew what it meant.
The mer hummed, “I haven’t heard of her.”
“She likes her privacy, but she’s fairly well known where I come from.”
He’s not lying, loads know who she is.
They nodded, “What part of-“
“Ah,” Triton interrupted, quickly switching the subject to one of the fishes nearby, apparently it wasn’t common around here.
After that the event seemed to wind down. Percy still wasn’t sure what it was about in the first place, but whatever.
Triton led him back towards the rivers, using his magic to speed it up.
Percy was reluctant to return. He liked being here. He liked being able to use his magic freely without anyone judging him for it. He liked being in the sea.
But he’s only half of the sea. His other half is from the land, and he has to go home. He can’t leave his mom.
So, home he went.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
The rest of the summer passed in a haze of studying the books Triton shoved into his hands and cleaning the river.
The solstice was a brief respite, he gave Triton a carefully formed Ice box.
As in, a box made of ice. He’d very carefully formed the runes on it that should keep it from melting… hopefully.
Triton seemed to think it was good at least. Percy had also put two more sand dollars into it, they were looking good now!
Triton got him a hair piece, it was made of twisted coral and some small pearls.
Percy loved it, it kept his hair out of his face.
Maybe he should invest in a haircut?
But then he wouldn’t be able to use the hairpin… he’d leave his hair long.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy’s birthday was the only other break in the summer, as usual he went down to the river to see Triton. He was turning eleven now! He was almost a teenager. That was a big deal you know.
Triton gave him a bag.
You wouldn’t think that was cool, except this was a super cool bag. It was a waterbag, like what Katara had.
Apparently, it’s called a waterskin, but that wasn’t important.
The important thing is that this one is linked to the sea! As long as he has the bag he’ll never run out of water!
It was amazing.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
School starting again was the opposite of fun.
The teachers were rude, the students were judgy, and he was ninety percent sure the classrooms pet hamster was not a hamster.
He just hoped it didn’t try to kill him.
But it was really bugging his senses.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
He talked to Triton about the feeling, Triton was pleased.
He said Percy was sensing magic intent most likely. The hamster was probably not a hamster, but also not willingly in that form.
Percy had gotten very good at making the sand dollars, they even were starting to slowly draw energy to get stronger over time instead of just staying in statis, or worse the energy fading.
His skills with purification could go to more than water, experts at purification were able to remove the worst of curses.
Percy had read that. Purification and siren’s song were the two sea magics he had the most interest in learning more about. But he didn’t realize it would give him a sense for curses around him.
That was cool, and probably helpful.
Triton got him books on it.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Okay so Percy had zero idea how to change the hamster back to… whatever it was before.
On the other hand, he was doing good in class currently.
Triton had gotten him to the current math level, and now Percy could actually work.
English was still horrible, and geography for land stuff sucked.
Why couldn’t they quiz him on sea geography? He had that down!
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy baked food for Triton for the fall equinox, lots of cakes and cookies.
All blue of course.
Triton shared with him.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy decided something just before the solstice.
He really didn’t like his English teacher at all.
He kept saying Percy was doing stuff he wasn’t! He worked really hard on the English homework and rushed to get to class extra early! He swears the teacher gave him a detention for breathing the other day.
Triton suggested he use his training in ‘princely acting’ to try and out do them.
Percy was pretty sure Triton just wanted an excuse to make him practice it more.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy got Triton a stone horse for the Solstice.
He actually found this one instead of making it, but he added some sea runes for protection and safety. He wasn’t sure if it would do much, but maybe it would make Triton’s room a little bit more comfortable.
Triton gifted him with clothes. And while that might sound boring, Percy loved them.
They were clothes in the style of the sea clothes!
Worn by the sea beings that could go on land they were styled the same as the clothes underwater.
Percy had six sets now.
Flowy pants that were super comfortable, made from some kind of silk. Soft shirts in really cool designs that he very much enjoyed, with fun folds and clasps that gave him stuff to fiddle with. They seemed to have a shimmer of scales in them. Triton assured him that it was just to strengthen them.
There were different patterns, and the pants came in black and blue, with one deep red. The shirts had all kinds of colors, a deep purple, a bright red, two blues of different shades, a green, and a black. The buttons were all pearl.
They were probably crazy expensive and definitely the nicest things he owned, they looked so nice and were so soft.
Percy knew he’d treasure them for as long as he could wear them.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy worked slowly through the rest of the school year.
He had a lot of detentions, but he took Triton’s advice and put on what he’s taken to calling his princely face.
As perfectly mannered as he could be, with careful insults in his words. He was getting better at them and wearing the nice clothes sometimes certainly didn’t hurt.
He loved those clothes, nothing seemed to damage them.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
He searched high and low for a good gift for the spring equinox. In the end he settled on some cool flowers. He worked carefully with the ice, it was super delicate, frosting it just so, making sure it didn’t wilt.
But in the end, he had a sunflower preserved in a ball of ice.
Just ignore his pile of fails.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Triton seemed delighted. Apparently, he’d never really gotten to see sunflowers before. He’d seen pictures and seen them once a long time again when Persephone had summoned some near the beach, but otherwise sunflowers weren’t really around his realm.
Well, now he could have his own sunflower.
In turn Triton gave him a small orb, he tapped the top an the orb lit up. Percy stared in awe at the stars surrounding him.
“You’ll need to learn the constellations too.”
Percy sighed, of course he did.
He loved the present though.
When the stars turned off, the inside of the orb shone.
It was like a snow globe but with stars!
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy got expelled… surprise.
The English teacher finally got him kicked out, despite all he did to fight it.
It probably didn’t help that he’d been the last one around the pet guinea pig, the pet hamster that is now missing… because Percy tried to turn it back human and was now stuck with a pet fish.
At least he could understand it now.
Apparently, Percy should avoid spa’s at all costs.
Percy decided he needed to learn more about purification magic.
He didn’t even know he could do that, and he doubted he could do it again.
Triton agreed to get him more books.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Mysteriously the school flooded, Percy was baffled, it didn’t have a plumbing problem.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Triton was in a good mood.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Summer was in full spring, and he actually had fun. Triton took him to events more often and Percy was starting to make some sorta friends.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
But time passed, and the solstice arrived.
Triton got him more clothes, a different style. Apparently from a different area of the sea.
The old ones still fit, but it was nice to have some variety.
These ones were more drappy, less clasps and stuff. He liked them, he felt like he could spin and look dramatic. Almost like he has wings!
Triton also got him an instrument called an ocarina. It was shaped like a seashell and was a pretty blue. He got Percy some books to learn from and told him it was the first step in learning Siren’s Song magic.
Percy was determined to master it.
Percy made him a geode snow globe. He’d found the stone totally by accident, but it was the same green as Triton’s tail! It sparkled a lot, he thought Triton might like it (to show off, he was horribly vain about his tail Percy had noticed). He worked hard to make the snow globe, but with a little bit of glitter instead of snow stuff.
It sparkled a lot, Triton smiled and thanked Percy.
Percy was glad that he could make Triton happy.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy decided to dye his hair.
In hindsight perhaps he should’ve informed his mom first.
But he felt so plain compared to the other merfolk at the events he went to! All of them had such colorful hair! Triton’s hair was even a really dark blue, so dark you could mistake it for black.
That’s what Percy tried to do…
That didn’t quite work.
His hair was a cobalt blue, very clearly blue.
He’d gotten the dye from Samoa (a mermaid with a really pretty white tail that was kinda flowy and pale hair. Pale everything really, he thinks she’s albino or something, but it would be rude to ask.)
Triton thought it was hilarious, hair was all kinds of color under the sea, so it was totally fine for Percy to dye his hair.
His mom did not think it was hilarious…
He was grounded for a week, and she tried using dye remover… It didn’t work.
Triton found that even funnier.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy’s twelfth birthday was soon after, Triton got him a super cool bag!
Its enchanted so that other’s can’t take his stuff out of it, and it keeps the inside untouched by anything that happens on the outside. So if the bag gets drenched in water the insides won’t be affected, same if it gets set on fire.
Triton was kind enough to demonstrate.
Percy thought it was brilliant and would definitely help with the bullies.
Percy was so happy to have a friend like Triton.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy was not happy.
His mom had put him in a private school. Which wasn’t horrible, he’d been to two before.
What was horrible was the fact that his school was a boarding school.
He wouldn’t be able to visit Triton or go to the river or gossip with the fish or practice his waterbending (no matter what Triton said or the fact that it’s apparently called Thermomancy he would always call it waterbending).
He wasn’t happy at all, though at least Triton was right about them still being able to talk via iris messaging.
He still wasn’t happy.
He reluctantly said goodbye to his many fish friends, Triton took him down to say goodbye to the sorta friends he’d made amongst the merfolk. He told them his teacher had moved to another area for awhile and it would be a few months before he could visit.
They understood.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Percy stared up at the gates, reluctance filling him.
He fiddled with his bracelet, curling his fingers around the sparkling stone that glittered on it.
He could do this. He’s Percy Jackson, son of Oceanus (you know, probably), he’s going to be a master of purification and help clean the seas of all the pollution. He was Triton’s friend.
He could do this.
He stepped through the gates of Yancy Academy to begin the next school year.
Mer Percy Here
#longer chapter than usual#pjo#percy jackson#triton#pjo triton#triton is a good big brother#Avatar the legend of percy#avatar: the legend of percy#avatar fan percy#powerful percy#smart percy
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Title: Mightier Than the Sword
Fandom: Witcher
Summary: A month after the events of "Rare Species," Geralt slinks his way into an inn and is faced with the question of how an emotionless man apologies. (TV!canon with some details drawn from the books and Wild Hunt.)
Pairing: Pre-slash Geralt and Jaskier
Word Count: 2,568
Where to read it: Below or on AO3
A/N: It’s a Christmas miracle! Look at me making an attempt at writing. I figured that if season one was going to leave us in that horrible place with Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship I’d just have to start fixing it myself 👍
The storm had raged for two days and looked as if it had enough life in it for a third. When Geralt shouldered his way into the inn he felt like there was a kikimore on the other side, so strong was the wind keeping slabs attached to frame. When he finally managed and let the door slam shut behind him, catching his heel and dimming the storm’s voice, he found a number of glares leveled his way, the patrons none too pleased at the cold interruption. Dropping his hood did not improve matters.
One man splendid in rotting clothes and stained teeth spat as soon as he saw Geralt’s hair. Another flinched away from his eyes. Still another pretended to keep attention on his food but Geralt caught the inquisitive looks he snuck, far worse than any hatred. The curious only thought they were kinder.
“Witcher,” said a fourth. That tone spread through the room. Apparently Jaskier’s ballads hadn’t reached this corner of the world yet.
Geralt found his seat and kept his back to the wall.
For all the poverty he’d passed through in this town the inn at least was holding its own. The horse hair plaster did little to warm the space, but the many bodies and roaring fire made up for the lack of insulation. The room was otherwise dark. Comforted in the soft chatter and the simple blessing that, though they might growl, no one was inclined to approach him. Geralt took a moment to merely sit, listening to the drip of water from his cloak and the clink of spoons against bowls. The latter made his stomach ache something fierce and with a sigh Geralt stood, approaching the bar.
The innkeep took one look at his threadbare clothes and went back to cleaning his nails. Geralt slid what little coin he had across the counter.
“Oats,” he said. “For the chestnut mare outside.”
“This look like a ploughing stable to you?”
“Does this metal look fake to you?”
Geralt spoke of the coin. Might have meant his sword. Either understanding worked just fine. The innkeep pocketed his meager offering in a flash.
“Doesn’t get your bitch much,” he said, but moved to the back regardless, presumably to make up a pail. Geralt traced his movements just long enough for reassurance before heading back to the fire. His knuckles creaked and when he grimaced the skin of his lips split.
As he sat that hole in his stomach grew wider, deeper, pulled him down stronger than gravity herself and Geralt had to plant his feet against the wave of dizziness that hit. Even witchers were susceptible to starvation. Obviously he would have preferred food for both himself and Roach, but work hadn’t been kind to him these last few weeks. Oh, there were plenty of monsters, just few people willing to pay for their demise. As he’d once told Jaskier, the two rarely went hand-in-hand.
...must be the hunger addling his brain. Geralt knew of no other reason why he should think so much on a bard who was no longer bound to him. He’d severed that tie himself, over a month past.
“Endings,” Geralt said. To Roach, really. The conversation had picked up enough to cover his voice and he knew his horse was just beyond the wall, sheltered beneath the hanging roof of the inn. “It was bound to happen eventually. Best to do it on my own terms.”
If pressed Geralt might have admitted to catching that snort. As if Roach had heard, understood, and had more than her fair share to say about that claim. But he held his ground. Jaskier would have left, and all the better for it. Over the last few weeks Geralt had pictured the man lying prone on Yennefer’s bed. Thought over the advice he’d given about heading to the coast. Become antsy during the long stretch of silences and could only admit now that he’d grown used to Jaskier’s singing. The memories of his songs had settled in the back of his mind, rooting there with a determination that fit their author. More than once Geralt had caught himself humming a tune when there was no one else to hear it.
Yes. There were things he... missed. But better to miss them now while they shown bright in his memory. There would have come a day when Jaskier would no longer ask to accompany him to far off places. Where his songs would warn of a witcher’s violence and treachery, rather than simply lying through his teeth. There may have even come a time when he fell and no sorceress, not even one of Yennerfer’s skill, could save him. Geralt knew this as surely as he knew the weight of his own sword.
Jaskeir would have grown to hate him whether he’d held his foolish tongue or not. That was a destiny Geralt could believe in.
He’d just resolved to meditate until the phrase ‘Toss a coin to your witcher’ finally left his head—its repetition had certainly not brought the command into reality—when a plate was dumped in front of him, steaming meat and crispy potatoes. A bit of relish dotted the top, specific to the region as Geralt didn’t recognize the spices. The smell was enough for him to draw a sharp breath though, swallowing it like that might fill the hole in his stomach. He forced himself to look up into the eyes of a plain woman and kept his hands away from the table's edge.
“I didn’t order this,” Geralt said.
The woman smiled. “I know.”
Hmm. “You misunderstand. I don’t have coin to pay for this.” A drink was set beside the plate. The smell of steamed milk had Geralt briefly closing his eyes.
The woman chuckled. At his longing or whatever game she played, he didn’t know. Perhaps both. Though Geralt had an inkling that he had misjudged her when she pushed the plate closer, a chipped nail tapping its edge.
“It’s you who’s not understandin’” she said. “Coin’s already in the pocket. Mine, not my lout of a brother over there.” Her head jerked towards the innkeep. “Pretty bard was in here just a mo’ ago. Went pale as milk when he saw ye. Thought the poor boy was gonna faint! But he recovered, sure as anything, and gave me a handful of silver before slippin’ out the back. Had stern instructions that I get you a hearty dinner so now here I am, doin’ jus’ that. You won’t catch Sinah goin’ back on her word, no sir. So go on. Eat your fill, witcher. More where that came from if you’ve a mind to have it,” and Sinah inched the plate ever closer.
Geralt’s gaze was on the hearth though. He stared at the flames and tried to ignore how the smell of meat had gone sour. “A bard?”
“Aye. As said, a pretty thing. More dolled up than we’re likely to get ‘round these parts. Sang a bit for his own meal before settlin’ in the back. Quiet. Fidgety. Like a mouse before the cat. Specially when he caught sight of that hair o’ yours. Thought he might be a monster himself—one of those dopple things, if you know my meaning—up until he asked me to serve ye. Odd that. I’ll not have my cookin’ go to waste though. I’ll take it back if—hey now!”
But Geralt was already up and on the move because he’d heard it. Muttering something about saving his plate, he was across the room with a dexterity only a witcher could manage, dodging legs, chairs, spilled drinks, all in near darkness. Throwing himself out into the gale that sound grew stronger. No one else would have heard it above the storm, but Geralt followed it like a clear, melodious bell.
Someone was speaking to Roach. Jaskier was speaking to Roach.
A little ways down the path to avoid a small river forming, around the corner of the inn. Geralt slipped into the shadows created by the overhang and blinked at the sudden assault on his vision. Jaskier was dressed entirely in purple and pink, a beacon amid the grays of the night. Geralt’s first thought upon spotting him was that his clothing was a monstrosity all its own and he would happily accept a contract to dispose of it.
Then, ears perking like a wolf’s, Geralt focused on the conversation.
“—hardly deserves it,” Jaskier was saying, using Roach’s neck to hide from a particularly sodden gust of wind. His mare put up with it, long familiar with the man’s proximity. “Though I suppose that you could technically make an argument for reciprocation. If I am owed a ten percent cut of whatever work he secures thanks to my genius ballads, then perhaps I owe him ten percent of whatever I earn thanks to his heroics. Yes, yes. I know I’m not supposed to be touching you, but I’m not see? I’m touching your saddlebags. Geralt can’t get mad about that, can he?”
He could, yet astoundingly Geralt found that he was not. How could he be when the light of the moon showed Jaskier slipping coin into the side pocket where Geralt was sure to find it? Shivering, drenched to the bone, Jaskier continued to give up his riches, smiling all the while. Geralt could see it even from the shadows. Noted the melancholy grip on its edge. He looked away—again—and this time told himself that it was so his shining eyes didn’t give him away. The excuse sounded weak even within his own head.
“Just a bit to tide him over,” Jaskier said, continuing to pour more than “a bit” into various pockets. “And you of course! No need to tell him I was here, but you should make sure he buys you plenty of carrots. You need more than these wet oats... oh by the gods those look disgusting. I’m sorry, girl. I’d sneak back in to get you something as well but... ah.... not sure ‘sneaking’ and ‘White Wolf’ go well together. Our King of Brooding would spot me for sure and then where would I be? Suffering another punch I’d wager. And given our last meeting I don’t think Geralt would settle for aiming at my gut. Sorry, girl, but this face is just too beautiful to risk.”
Another sliver coin glinting from the shadows. An endless wave of prattle just under the rain. Geralt listened as Jaskier told Roach all about his travels over the last month, how audiences were growing weary of the ballads he had, demanding new, exciting tales. Jaskier had nothing to give them. Though that was fine. Grand even! Challenge and limitation, the bread and butter of an artist. He would find a way and until then he’d help others find there’s. Even grumpy witchers.
“I’m his friend, after all,” Jaskier said. It came out quieter than all the rest. “That’s what the foolish man doesn’t realize. Hardly matters whether he’s my friend. Doesn’t stop me from being his. Really, all those mutated brains and he’s dumb as a goat half the time. He’s lucky he’s gorgeous.” Roach tossed her head, knocking into Jaskier’s and drawing a chuckle. “Knew you’d agree with that, girl. There now. All loaded up? Excellent. I’m going to go dry off now. I will not allow this storm to ruin my new outfit,” and he did a little twirl, showing off the decorative stitching. “Stunning? Why yes, I’m quite aware. Never hurts to hear it though. Thank you, darling.”
Jaskier planted a quick kiss on her muzzle, whispered not to tell, and with a wink slipped away. Geralt took note of the house he was renting a room from and then returned to the inn.
He found Sinah in the back removing a man’s hand from her waist. She followed him to his seat, the meat and potatoes now cold. Geralt shoveled forkfuls down regardless.
“You said the bard’s coin would get me more?”
Sinah inclined her head. “Aye. Wanting a second plate, do you?”
“No, but I’ll take paper and quill if you have it.”
If she found the request odd she didn’t show it. Sinah left and returned with the speed of a wraith, depositing pulpy parchment and a vile of ink heavily watered down. It was enough. Geralt inclined his head in turn, the most respectful gesture she’d seen all day, and the two parted with satisfaction on both sides. Geralt put aside a third of his meal for Roach before finishing the rest with a speed that would have choked a human man. Done, he set about composing a list.
He was no poet. Geralt hadn’t the words to describe his contracts with anything other than the blunt language spoken by all witchers. Still, he made an effort to include details. He wrote about the noonwraith he’d dispatched three towns over, only to find that the residents had but an eighth of the coin they’d originally promised. Geralt had looked at their own sunken cheeks, taken half of that eighth, and been on his way. After that had come the drowner colony, but no one cared to pay for what amounted to a pest—even a dangerous one. There were the men who’d succeeded in both putting a hole in his cloak as well as forfeiting their lives. The young woman who looked much like Sinah but had none of her honor, attempting to lure Geralt into a robbery through false tears. The ghoul whose liver he'd eaten when he couldn’t sell it. The curse he’d lifted for a roof over his head. The nekkers that had managed to drain the rest of his energy before he’d finally collapsed here. It was all common work. The witcher equivalent of doing one’s chores. It was only Jaskier’s voice in his head that told Geralt any of this might interest another.
The whole thing filled five pages and took the length of time required to dry his socks. There was no signature. The writing was splotchy and the paper now smelled of rain. Geralt folded it with all the care he’d give to cleaning his sword.
It wasn’t an apology because witchers didn’t do apologies. Geralt wasn’t even sure he’d know how to give one if required... though this was probably as close as he’d get. He would not think on what Jaskier had done to earn the attempt.
Instead, Geralt planned to sop up the remaining juice on his plate and lick his fingers clean. He would return the inkwell to Sinah and, when the rest of him was dry, he’d ruin it all by going back out into the storm, across the weeds, into the room where Jaskier slept with lute and clothes as flamboyant as a peacock. Geralt’s notes would look like a pauper’s trifle next to the rest of his belongings, but perhaps Jaskier could spin them into something grand.
Indeed, perhaps someday soon there would be another inn, a new ballad, and this time Jaskier would choose to stay. Geralt wouldn't deserve that, but he found himself thinking on it nonetheless. Treacherous thoughts that circumvented destiny and warmed him far better than the fire.
Until then, Geralt curled in on himself and let the music he already knew wash over him.
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what would henrik's reaction to seeing a mermaid be (particularly a handsome blind merperson 👀
Okay so originally I was going to just do this as a normal ask, but then I was like “yeah, okay, I could do that except I miss writing my boys” so!! I am writing my boys!!!! Because merperson Host is my favorite idea ever. As usual, The Host is AFAB nonbinary.
Also. I.............. can’t write action sequences, so here we are. This also weirdly doesn’t have a lot of sex. I think that might just be a trend of this au...
Warnings: Monster fucking, merperson anatomy, almost drowning, use of the word “kraut” against a German character, use of the term cunt for a nonbinary person’s genitals, breast play on a nonbinary person, oral sex. As always, ask me to add any necessary warnings!
Henrik didn’t get a break often. It was unfortunately something he was used to. As a surgeon, Henrik was a very important person in the hospital. He had to work long, often shifts, and it was very rare and pleasant when Henrik got the chance to get away from his work. His favorite place to get away was the beach. It was usually very, very busy, but Henrik knew good places to go to get away from everyone. His favorite spot was a smaller part of the beach hidden by an outcropping of rock that took a while to climb. Probably not the best place to hide if you’re a doctor that needs your hands for your job, but Henrik was rather skilled at not getting injured as he hid away from the general public.
Luckily, Henrik’s little hideaway was as empty as it always was. He didn’t know what he would have done if it wasn’t, but it probably would have included very angry mumbling in German. But instead, it was empty, and Henrik could spend the day simply reading and enjoying himself. Henrik breathed a sigh of relief and set his blanket up next to a large tide pool. High tide wasn’t usually until the night time, and so Henrik was quite comfortable not to worry about it.
Hours later, Henrik packed up his things to go to the pier and get dinner. The pier was rather strange if Henrik was honest. It was made almost exclusively for large cruise liners and was rather tall. Henrik was pretty sure that, no matter what the sign at the front said, it hadn’t been built in 1867, but he wasn’t much one to argue for dumb technicalities like that. There was a part of the pier that Henrik was prone to going to. Similar to his spot on the beach, not many people came to this part of the pier and so Henrik was generally left alone to do whatever it was he wanted. Which was to usually eat whatever food that was bound to be horrible for him that he’d managed to find tonight and ignore the rest of the world.
So it was very unfortunate, then, that Henrik’s spot wasn’t empty. Sure it was for a while, long enough for Henrik to eat and then just get into the rhythm of answering work emails on his phone. And then, in the middle of actually a phone call with the chief at another hospital that had approached him with a much better job opportunity - ER surgeon was great, sure, but Henrik would much rather be the cardiology director if he had the choice - that a group of not quite teenagers but most definitely not adults encroached on his space.
“Scheiße,” Henrik muttered at their approach, starting to gather his things. “Nein, nein, sorry. That was not for you, I apologize. Can I call you back tomorrow, once I’m at my office? Ja? All righty, thank you.” Henrik quickly hung up and put his phone in his pocket, looking around and realizing with a start that it probably would have been better to stay on the phone if he wanted to avoid being approached.
“Hey, man!” one of the young men shouted. Henrik considered simply ignoring him and continuing on his way, but even he wasn’t that rude.
“You dropped your book,” the young man said, offering Henrik the book once he had turned around.
“Oh.” Henrik gratefully took the book. “Thank you, I did not realize I dropped it.”
The young man paused and Henrik practically knew what he was going to say before he could even say it. “Fuckin’ kraut.”
“Ja, ja, whatever,” Henrik muttered. It didn’t really hurt him, to be honest. It was an old, old word that Henrik hadn’t been called in years. It was a wonder that someone this young would even know that word.
“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!” the young man yelled, shoving at Henrik.
“I really just want to go,” Henrik sighed, setting his things down and turning to the young man, only to stumble back as he was punched in the face.
“Oh, what the hell!?” Henrik exclaimed, managing to land a single punch on the other man before his friends shoved Henrik back and... off the pier.
And wasn’t that terrifying? The feeling of nothing but air around him, nothing there to catch him. Nothing to save him. It wouldn’t have been that bad of a fall, to be honest. He had been pretty far into the sea on the pier, and it was short enough to keep Henrik from being killed by it, but it is still a terrifying feeling to fall into the roiling ocean as the high tide just started to come in. Henrik didn’t even have time to scream before the world went black around him.
Henrik wasn’t sure when he woke up. It could have been minutes or hours or days later, he didn’t know. What he knew was that he was in an ocean cave, his glasses were somehow on his face, there was somehow a fire a bit away from Henrik, and there was a person sitting half in the water with their back to Henrik. Henrik sat up carefully, wincing slightly as his leg twinged in pain.
“Where are we?” Henrik asked the person. They didn’t turn to Henrik, merely cocking their head to indicate that they heard him.
“He is in a sea cave,” the person said carefully. “He has been here for a few hours. The coast guard is already searching for him.”
“Did you... save me?” Henrik asked, carefully shifting closer to the person. “What happened to my leg?”
“The Host saved him, yes,” the person - The Host? - replied. “He hurt his leg. Cut it on the coral. The Host made sure that it would not get infected. He is very far from where the coast guard is searching. The Host apologizes for that.”
“Far... how far?” Henrik asked, looking at his leg carefully. It was wrapped in the torn fabric of Henrik’s shirt, surprisingly well done as well. “My name is Henrik, by the way.”
“Henrik is about a week away from where the coast guard is searching. The Host brought him as close as they could without risking themselves and risking Henrik’s condition.”
“Oh...” Henrik frowned deeply, scooting closer to the person again. “Thank you for saving me, Host.” Henrik gently touched The Host’s shoulder to make them look at him, quickly drawing his hand back as The Host flinched and quickly leaped into the water.
“What!?” Henrik exclaimed, eyes wide as he looked around the pool The Host had jumped into. “Nein, nein, nein, nein! Host? Host!? Scheiße, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! Please be okay!”
“The Host...” Henrik breathed a sigh of relief when The Host’s voice came from the other, completely dark side of the pool. “The Host would prefer that Henrik not try to look at them.”
“Okay,” Henrik said. “I’m sorry, I won’t try to. But, Host? What did you mean by risking yourself? Earlier?”
“The Host...” There was the sound of shifting and then something long and glittering golden resting next to Henrik from across the pool. It was a fan. A large fin that attached to a long tail that ascended into what little Henrik could see of The Host’s torso.
“You’re...” Henrik had heard stories of merrow. Stories of creatures half human and half fish, with beautiful tails and faces. Hell, Henrik had gotten many a drunken rant about them from Chase since the other had met his new boyfriend Jack. “I didn’t think they were real. I thought it was just a story...” Henrik carefully lifted his hand and ran it along the fin, immediately retracting it as The Host gasped and shifted their tail back into the water.
“I’m sorry,” Henrik said quickly. “I seem to keep doing things that make you uncomfortable...”
“Henrik need not apologize,” The Host said, hugging themself carefully. “The Host is simply unused to being around humans. Henrik did not do anything wrong.”
“I did, but okay,” Henrik said, smiling faintly. “I’ll try not to do that anymore.”
The Host nodded carefully. “Henrik should get some more sleep. He will need rest to heal. The Host will gather food while he sleeps.” Henrik nodded and laid back down, waiting for a splash that indicated The Host had left before going to sleep.
Four days later, Henrik found something odd. Not in the cave or the water, but within himself. He felt... comfortable around The Host. He didn’t usually warm up to people so quickly, and he certainly didn’t usually desire to kiss people so quick, especially when he hasn’t even seen their face. But he felt connected to The Host. He had absolutely no idea why, but it felt as if he was meant to be with The Host. As if it was simply a fact of his life that The Host was supposed to be there.
“Host,” Henrik said softly. The Host was once again sat with their back to Henrik as the pair ate, the fire playing off The Host’s golden scales.
“Does Henrik have a question?” The Host asked.
“Ja,” Henrik said, shifting closer to The Host. “Host, I know that you do not want me to see you, and I know that we have not known each other long, but... I feel connected to you, Host. I do not know why, but I do.”
“The Host feels the same,” The Host admitted. “They cannot say why either, but they do.”
“Host,” Henrik said softly and gently touching The Host’s shoulder, relieved to find that The Host did not pull away from his touch. “Host, please, may I see your face?” The Host hesitated for a moment before they turned to Henrik. Henrik gasped softly at the sight, carefully lifted his hand to cup their cheek.
“The Host knows,” they said softly. “The Host is scarred. Ugly...”
“Nein,” Henrik said quickly, lifting his other hand to hold The Host’s face. “Host, no. You are beautiful.” Henrik carefully swiped his thumb under one of The Host’s empty eye sockets, admiring the person in front of him.
“Host, you are disabled, yes,” Henrik said, running his thumb down to The Host’s cheekbone. “But you are not ugly. You are gorgeous, no matter what you may think.”
“The Host... The Host is?” The Host asked, looking confused.
“Yes,” Henrik said firmly, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against The Host’s. “I don’t... Host, I cannot say why I feel connected to you as I have already said, but why doesn’t matter. I do, and you feel connected to me, and there is something between us that cannot be explained. But even if we do not know why, we know that we have each other. And I know that you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”
The Host was silent for a moment before they leaned forward and pressed their lips against Henrik’s, gently gripping Henrik’s shoulders and pulling him close. Henrik groaned softly and deepened the kiss, resting his hands on The Host’s tail and pulling them closer. The Host blushed, moaning softly and pressing closer to Henrik.
“You’re beautiful,” Henrik muttered, pulling away from the kiss and kissing down The Host’s neck and gently massaging The Host’s tail. The Host whimpered softly, their scales softening beneath Henrik’s hand and slowly spreading to reveal The Host’s cunt.
“I didn’t realize that would affect you so much,” Henrik said, looking down at The Host’s entrance and instinctively bucking his hardening cock against The Host’s tail. The Host moaned softly, dropping their hands to Henrik’s fly and slowly undoing it.
“Host,” Henrik muttered, pressing his forehead against The Host’s and lifting his hands to massage the mer’s breasts. “Are you sure you want this? We just met, we’ve barely discovered our feelings...”
“Yes,” The Host moaned quickly, pulling away from Henrik and lifting their tail to rest it completely out of the water and pulling Henrik over them. “The Host wants Henrik to make love to them.”
Henrik bit his lip and nodded, quickly pulling his clothes off properly and kissing The Host as he settled over their tail. The Host whimpered and kissed Henrik deeper, moaning into the kiss as Henrik slowly started pushing his cock inside of them. Henrik swallowed The Host’s moans eagerly, moaning in return at the feeling of their warmth around him.
“God, you feel perfect,” Henrik moaned, gripping The Host’s hips and carefully starting to thrust in and out of them. The Host moaned loudly, their moans echoing throughout the cave as Henrik slowly sped up, angling his hips to push deeper inside of them.
“Henrik~” The Host moaned, carefully scratching down Henrik’s back. “Henrik~ Please, The Host needs Henrik to go faster~”
“Yes,” Henrik moaned, going faster. “Fuck, Host, I love you. I need you, you feel so good~” Henrik whimpered softly, thrusting harder into The Host to draw even louder moans from them.
“Th-the Host loves Henrik as well,” The Host moaned, throwing their head back and squeezing their eyelids shut.
“H-host, I’m not going to last long,” Henrik groaned, pressing his forehead against The Host’s shoulder.
“May,” The Host licked their lips. “May The Host mark Henrik?”
“Yes,” Henrik whimpered, gather The Host into his arms and holding them tight as he thrust deep inside of them and came. The Host moaned and bit into the junction between Henrik’s shoulder and neck, their cunt squeezing around Henrik’s cock as they came as well.
Henrik carefully released The Host and pulled out, groaning softly at the sight of his cum decorating the puffy lips of The Host’s cunt. The Host gasped, their back arching as Henrik leaned down and pushed his tongue inside of them. Henrik moaned at the combined taste of himself and The Host, gripping their hips tightly as he eagerly ate them out.
“Henrik~” The Host moaned weakly, desperately trying to grind up against the human’s face. Henrik kept a firm grip on their hips as he continued, fucking them with his tongue as well as he did with his dick. The Host moaned loudly as they came again. Henrik pulled away, licking his lips and chin clean before helping The Host back into the water so they could breathe properly.
Henrik shifted to fix his clothes and roll onto his side, reaching into the water and taking The Host’s hand. The Host blushed and gripped Henrik’s hand, falling asleep with him.
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My Kid Punched His Kid |4|
Single Dad!Teacher!Ben Hardy x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: A playground fight between two 8-year-olds bring together 2 lonely single parents.
In This Chapter: Our favorite single parents bickering. cute ass kids! More of Ben’s son!
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: Here’s part 4 everybody!!! I’m so proud of this and really hope you like it. Please let me know what you think, I love your feedback! Thank you thank you for all the nice messages i love them all.
Y/N leaned against the wall outside the classroom, her arms crossed over chest with her fingertips tapping the sleeves of her light blue suede moto jacket. Her Y/E/C eyes scan the halls of mostly mothers waiting to pick up their kids, half of them wore basically nothing. She smirks, further presses her back to the wall.
Once the bell rings all the moms rush in probably ignoring their kids and fighting over the attention of the teacher. It was the perfect opportunity to go in and rush out before he could notice her. Peeling herself off the wall she walks in and approaches Abby’s desk. Looking down at the brightly colored name card with ‘Abagail’ written nicely in his handwriting. “How was the movie?” she asks.
Abby narrows her eyes, looking up at her mom with confusion, her brain trying to come up with how she knew. “How did you know we watched a movie?” she questions with suspicion evident in her voice. Y/N mouth opens in regret. Shit. She thinks on her feet and pouts her lips.
“I’m your mom. I know everything.” That was fair. Abby nods and agreement and continues to pack her bag in silence, her blue eyes look towards the corner of the room through the locks of curled hair. She was typically a fearless kid, sure she didn’t like the dark but she was the kid that punched another in the face without hesitation. She looks up at her mom who was trying not to look in the direction of her teacher's desk “Mom I need to ask you something?”
“What’s up, Babe?”
Abby takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders back to stand tall “Can me and James have a playdate?” her words come out fast like she’s out of breath, happy to get it over with. She stands tall, her eyes squint to show power…she learned it from a movie and kept it in the back of her mind just in case the occasion arose. She puts on her backpack and grips the glittery straps tightly.
Y/N bends down to meet Abby’s eye line, she sighs and rubs her shoulder lovingly. It was a terrible idea. Things would be awkward; the kids wouldn’t know but they would know. “Abs, you know Mr. Jones and I don’t get along. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she reasons. Abagail narrows her eyes and huffs, looking away from her mother.
“Mom, this isn’t about you,” she says sternly, looking back at her. Y/N’s jaw drops in shock caught off guard from the sudden anger in her child.
“Excuse me? What happened to my 8-year-old?” she questions with nervous laughter.
“Mom,” she growls, folding her arms. The Y/H/C haired woman closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She gets up and looks down at Abby sympathetically. She loathed the man, but breaking her daughter's heart weighed heavier on her heart than her pride.
“Fine, I’ll go talk to him,” she says as calmly as she could. She turns to the man who was preoccupied with the moms who were trying to get his attention. “Mr. Jones?” Ben’s head snaps up and grins wildly, uttering regrets to the other moms and eagerly making his way to her. She smiles slightly as the eagerness.
“Can I help you?” he smirks. Y/N’s face becomes stone cold, she furrows her eyes together and clenches a fist at her side.
“Abagail wants to have a playdate with James.”
Ben hums and smiles, shifting on the heels of his feet “Is this a way for you to ask me out?” he responds.
“No,” she hisses. “This is all for her.”
“Fine, fine. Still, think you’re lying but! We are free on Sunday’s.”
“We go to the park every Sunday…maybe he could join us.” She hated this, she really did and what made it worse was that shit eating grin on his stupid perfect face.
“We’ll be there, 11 ok?”
She forces a smile “See you then,” she says through gritted teeth. Now that was worse than childbirth. Her hands stay clenched, her pride deteriorated as she walked away from, not giving the satisfaction of talking to him anymore. Abby, however, was over the moon when Y/N told her as they walked out of the school, her smile made it almost worth it. As Y/N shut the car door her jeans pocket started to vibrate, she shifts and pulls it out from her back pocket.
‘My heads fine by the way, how’s yours?’
She looks at the school and then back at her phone ‘Ben’ illuminated from the screen. How the fuck did she get his number. ‘How do I have your number?’
‘You were practically begging for it last night…amongst other things.’
‘haha very funny asshole’
‘I put it in your phone while you slept, just in case you needed something. I didn’t snoop don’t worry.’
“Mom? They’re honking at us,” Abby groans, sinking father in her seat in an attempt to hide her face from the people watching. Y/n snaps out of the trance and throws her phone in the passenger seat and quickly drives off, being lectured by the kid about using her phone.
The days dragged on, Y/N found herself purposely trying to bury herself in her work to get her mind off of him. Every night when she looked at herself in the mirror, she would see the marks she put on her. She remembered his touch all too well. The morning of the play date, a simple towel wrapped around her body that mark on her chest on full display. The deep purple color had finally begun to fade, the beads of water glide over it. She wiped the water away and grabbed her phone from the counter. ‘so today?’ God. Him again? Again meaning since the first time he messaged her, he didn’t blow her phone up like she was expecting. She bites her lip as she contemplates responding. He knows the kids have been talking nonstop about their playdate.
‘What about it?’
‘I’m just making sure you’re not chickening out.’
‘Fuck off.’ She grumbles complaints and throws her phone on the bed, refusing to look at the expensive piece of trash. You sleep with a guy one time and he thinks he can talk to you. She laughs at her thoughts and walks to her closet. She pauses, she was searching through her closet like she was 16 going on her first date. Hastily pushing the hangs to the side to catch a quick glance at her clothes before deeming them horrible. “I need new clothes,” she whispers to herself. Settling a pair of black yeans and a long beige sweater she put on a necklace with her initial and took one last look “This is fine, I don’t want him.”
It was a relief when they got their first to the park, Y/N wanted to throw up the whole way there “Mom where are they, it’s 11?” Abby questions, scanning the large park as she zipped up her pink jacket.
“They’ll be here soon, Baby. I promise,” she responds as she sits on the large plaid blanket. Secretly hoping they got sick or something. But as if on cue James runs up to Abby with his blond curls flapping in the wind.
“So you didn’t chicken out,” Ben says amused as he stands next to her. Y/N grimaces and scans him, black t-shirt and basketball shorts. Simple.
“It’s September, 60 and you’re in shorts?”
Ben laughs and sits down, running a hand through his hair “Function over fashion…unlike you. You look nice though.”
Y/N rolls her eyes and huffs out a thank you, turning her head to cover the heat rising to her cheeks “At least I’m warm.” Ben smirks at the effect he had on her.
“Mom, can we go play?” Abby asks as she digs around the large tote bag for a ball.
“Go, have fun. Please don’t hit anyone,” Y/N pleads with a smile. Abby sticks out her tongue and tucks the soccer ball under her arm.
“James, come here please,” Ben says using his dad voice. James pouts and stomps over, tucking his hands in his pants pocket. Ben leans forward and places his hands on the boys clothed shoulders “Please be good, ok? Be nice to the other kids.”
“Ok, Dad,” James whispers, his matching green eyes shift back and forth reluctant to meet Ben’s glare. Ben sighs and smiles softly before shooing him off. Ben watches as the kids run off to the playground, he was always fearful when they came to the park. James wasn’t good with other kids, his social skills were clearly lacking. He said a silent prayer he could hurt the poor girl again.
“You ok Jones?” Y/N asks as she pulls out her tablet.
Ben breaks eye contact with them and nods, he looks down at her drawing and looks up at her serious face “What are you doing?”
“Working,” she replies shortly. He slowly moves closer to her, shoulders brushing together.
“On what?”
Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and narrows her eyes “I illustrate kids books. I’m working.” Ben nods and attempts to get closer, his head getting closer to her shoulder, she could feel his hair brush against her arm “What are you doing?”
“Let me see.” He opens his hand for the white pencil, his green eyes cutely looking into hers. Y/N hands over the pencil, praying that she saved her work. “How do I draw a happy little tree?” he asks her, causing her to giggle. Her lips form a tight line before going into a smile, her heart soared knowing he made a Bob Ross reference. She puts her hand over his drags him over to tap on a few spots. Moving her hand she watches him try to copy one of her trees, it looked like one of their kids had drawn it but it was still cute. His tongue would poke out when he would try to concentrate. “What do you think?” He asks excitedly looking at her with wide eyes and a proud smile.
“You did your best,” she responds, letting him down softly.
“You can tell me its shit,” he laughs and hands her back the pencil. When she takes it they lock eyes, reminiscing of how they saw each other in bed that night. Pure adoration. She opens her mouth to speak when sniffle sound flood their ears. They turn quickly to see James walk up the hill, rubbing his eyes.
“James, what happened?” Ben asks worriedly, jumping up from his seat to check to see if he had any cuts. While he was in dad mode, Y/N saved a picture of the altered drawing before erasing what he’d done to it and turning her attention to the boys.
“T-they won’t let me play,” he blubbers, covering his puffy eyes with the palms of his hand.
“Who, Bub?” Ben asks in between the sobs, leading him back to the blanket.
James turns over his shoulder and points to the group of kids play soccer. Ben closes his eyes and groans, he knew this would happen. It was rare to have an outing without something happening. It was like Arnold asking for one normal field trip with Ms. Frizzle: not going to happen. “Did you ask if you could play?” James responds with a tiny nod. Ben wasn’t fooled by his nod, he knew he was lying.
“What did you say?”
“Let me play,” his small voice came out even tinier.
“Mate you need to ask. With manners.”
James furrowed his eyebrows in irritation “I know dad,” he whines.
“I don’t think you do,” Ben retorts, his irritation showing.
Y/N puts her tablet aside and places her hand on Ben’s shoulder “Can I?” she suggests, motioning towards his son. Ben nods and sits back. “James, come here, Darling,” she speaks calmly. He calms at her soothing motherly tone and walks to her. “What are the magic words, James?” Y/N puts her hands on his shoulder, giving him loving rubs with her thumbs.
He shrugs at her “I don’t know.”
She hums “I think you do. Try it!”
“Please and thank you,” he finally answers. Y/N faces lights up and gives him a shake, making him laugh.
“There you go! I believe in you James, I want you to go back out there and ask them the right way,” she persuaded, taking a look at the other kids. She looked back at him kindly, like how she would talk to her own child. “Manners maketh the man, show them the English gentleman I know you are.” She turns him around, giving him a small squeeze of the shoulders and gently pushes him from her. They watch as the boy walks to the group of kids, James taps a tall boy on the shoulder and opens his mouth to speak. Ben started to bite on one of his nails like he was watching a suspense movie, he couldn’t handle another fight. He released the held breath when the taller boy let James into the circle and tossed him the ball.
“How the fuck did you do that?” Ben asks in shock, a surprised smile gracing his features.
Y/N shrugs and places her tablet back in her lap “Abby was the same way after Grant and I divorced. I needed to remind her about her manners and be nice about it. It takes time,” she explains. Ben grumbles and pulls out math homework from his backpack along with a red pen.
“You know he got kicked out of three nursery schools? He’s never been good with other kids.” She could sense the sadness and frustration in his tone, she wasn’t lying when she said it took time. It took 2 years for her daughter to get back to normal.
“He’s a good kid, Ben,” she says in reassurance. Ben frowns and tries to focus on his work, twirling the pen in between his fingers. he’d never really told anyone about James’ behavior, Gwil was really the only person that knew. His parents would scold him for how he was raising him, never good enough.
“You’re a good Dad. Don’t say that.”
Ben’s mouth forms a small o shape, he didn’t mean to say his thoughts “I-I didn’t mean to,” he tries to laugh it off. Y/N lowers her eyebrows and sucks in her bottom lip to show how unimpressed she was. Ben cocks his head in annoyance, narrowing his green eyes. The Y/H/C woman shrugs and returns to her work and lets him go back to his, dropping the subject… even though she was right.
It was mostly peaceful, in between her glances up at Abagail to make sure she was safe she would look over to Ben out of the corner of her eye. He would let out a light laugh when she couldn’t read the writing and would let out the occasional curse when he would cross off a wrong answer. It was comforting. “Mom!” Abby cheered as she ran up the hill, huffing when he reached the top.
“Are you having fun?” Y/N coos.
“Yeah…can we play Shoots and Ladders now?”
Ben’s ears perked up “Shoots and Ladders?” he questions.
“We play it every time we come,” Abby explains excitedly as she pulls the game from the bag. Y/N takes it from her and tells her to go get James. She nods and runs back down the hill while Y/N set the game up.
“Are you any good?” Ben taunts, laying down on his side and propping himself up with his elbow, greeting her with a smirk.
“I will destroy you,” she challenges.
With the kids gathered around the game started off as normal as possible, Abby and James frowning when their parents would get ahead of them. James’ small tongue poked out when he rolled the dice “I got a 6!” he cheered as he picked up the piece.
“Good job!” Ben clapped him on the back and smiled proudly as he moved up the board.
Y/N takes the dice in her hand and blew gently, making Ben roll his eyes at her. He was beyond annoyed that she got a ladder almost every time she rolled. She rolled gently and hummed in satisfaction “five,” she whispers moving her piece. Her elbow hits the corner of the board shifting the pieces and making the dice shift.
“That was a four,” Ben corrects, looking down at the dice.
Y/N looks up from the board “No it was a five,” she responds sternly.
Ben clenches his fist and touches her piece, moving it down the ladder “You rolled a four.”
She growls and moves it back “Seriously? Are you calling me a liar?”
“Look at the board! You rolled a fucking four!” he complains loudly, not quite a shout as he was trying to keep his cool.
“The board moved, it was a five Ben! You’re losing get the fuck over it.” she matches his tone. The kids look at each other sympathetically as their parents start to argue, their voices slowly starting to get louder with each insult. James looks around to see other people starting to look at them.
“Dad,” he says, pushing his leg to get his attention. The adults rise to their feet and start to get in each other face, their words getting louder, still talking about the board game.
“Did you rig the game Y/N? There’s no fucking possible way you got a ladder every time?” he yells.
“Oh? Not only am I liar I’m a cheater! Want to check the dice for a magnet?”
“Maybe. I. Do.”
“Fuck off! You’re a sore loser.”
“Mom! Mom?”
“What!” Y/N shouts, the pair looking down at the kids who were looking up at them with angered faces. “You guys are embarrassing.”
They pause and look around at the few pair of eyes that were on them. They look away, embarrassed of their actions “Abby, let’s go. Say goodbye,” she speaks slowly, not daring to look at him. They all gathered their things swiftly and in silence. Abby said her sad goodbye to James before running off to catch up to Y/N who had already started to walk away.
“I can’t believe you,” James huffed.
“I didn’t start it, and you had fun right?”
“Whatever, Dad.” James puts on his backpack and walks towards the parking lot leaving Ben alone in his thoughts. He pushed back his blonde curls and slung his bag over his shoulder, already rehearsing an apology.
Y/N threw the bag in her truck and slammed the door harshly, she growled when she saw Ben’s remorseful face in the dark reflection. “Came to yell at me more?” She asks, not turning to look at him.
“I came to say I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t-”
“Stop. You knew exactly what you were doing,” she holds a finger up before crossing her arms over her chest. Ben shoves his hands in his pockets and looks up briefly.
“I’m sorry, let me make it up to you…and Abby. We ruined their playdate.”
“And how do possibly expect to do that?” she sighs, leaning against the car.
Ben puts on a smile “Let me take you out.”
“On a date?” She raises an eyebrow. Unbelievable, she couldn’t believe he was standing in front of her after picking a fight in public and now asking for a date. Pathetic. She was pathetic for wanting to say yes. She knew she shouldn’t, it would be a disaster. “Ben. We shouldn’t, we can’t even get along in front of our kids without fighting,” she pointed out the obvious.
“I know! I know. Just dinner to say I’m sorry for making fools of us. You won’t regret it.”
Y/N thinks about it for a moment, free dinner. Maybe with food stuffed in their mouths, they could actually get along. Maybe there would be alcohol, god knows they were going to need it if they went through with it.
“What’s in it for Abby?” She smiles.
“We’ll bring her back ice cream,” he smiles back at her.
“I will go out with you Ben, just dinner.”
“Sounds perfect. Friday night?”
Y/N winces “I can’t. I promised to watch Mary to pay Lucy back after that night.”
Ben blushes and ducks his head “How about Saturday?”
“Saturday sounds perfect.”
She watches him walk back to his car with his returned confidence, she mentally kicked herself for saying yes so easily. Seriously fuck this guy for making her feel this way. She hated the fights but she did manage to get a date out of it. Fuck.
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taglist: if you have been crossed out Tumblr will not let me tag you! Im so sorry
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