#(now confirmed it is ruby)

[stevebabey]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOMIE I HOPE IT'S A GREAT ONE

THANK U HOMIE!!!

[bmpmp3]

i am so excited for the other powerfx maghni ai vocals u have no idea. obviously im excited in a nicely patient way because maghni is so small and also going through it at all times through no fault of their own but this morning i thought about ruby and smiled so serenely

[nin-deer]

ok. ok . OKAY.

[veshialles]

everything in my life is just in such a state of limbo right now, idk what to do with myself...

[kirianthedivorce]

It’s not even just Belinda. This entire era has been weirdly pushy on enforcing motherhood as the purpose of women

Donna is confirmed to have settled down and had a child as soon as she left the doctor

Ruby is only 19 and from the very beginning she’s in a maternal role. She looks after the children Carla fosters. In space babies she immediately assumes a maternal role to look after the children.

Anita was sad and lonely and now she’s happy and pregnant (from an accidental pregnancy, isn’t she so glad that happened without her deciding to do it!)

The ranis motivation is grief about her infertility, and her plan is to create loads of new time lord children. One of her incarnations describes herself as the mother of the other.

This entire two series arc has been building up to the statement that women should be mothers, and would be so much happier if they were mothers. Whether they want it or not. When it happens they’ll realise it’s what they wanted the whole time. It’s gross and I think one of the most misogynistic plots from a modern show I’ve seen.

[auraunbound]

[Man, now that I have Ruby back on the blog, I really really wanna throw her at people.]

[chellestrash]

Eat your young

Remmick x Female!Reader

summary: He chooses to pay you a visit, knowing that since you allowed him inside on that fateful night, you've been longing to see him again. warnings: blood, mentions of animal death, mentions of smut, slight religious trauma word count: 3.4k a/n: Hiyaaaaa its meee, so...idk if I would've ever guessed that apparently, the cure for my very severe writer's block is a super old Irish vampire loser, but you know what? Looking at my track record, it makes sense. Idk how good this is, idk if it's good at all, but i can not explain to you all how good it feels to have something written again, so i hope you'll enjoy it. This is a bit of an AU I guess where the vampires escape and separate, moving between different towns and regions, and the people who survived need to adapt, learn how to fight back, how to kill, and how to protect themselves. C: something like that

You stand in the doorway of your parent’s wooden house, the warm summer night surrounding the vast land of the family farm. An evening so calm and quiet it could bring comfort to some folk. Folk from different parts of the country, from a different city, a place different from your home. But not you, not your city, not the people of the community that knew what lurked in the depths of the night. The people watched the crimson plague flood this cursed soil.

Your eyes trace over the property’s edge, as far as you can see, up to the small dirt road right in front of the cornfield. The soft wind picks up, dancing with the wind chimes hanging at the edge of the porch, for what feels like seconds before the breeze disappears, taking the sound with it.

The night falls quiet, too quiet, silent almost, and you clutch onto the heavy shotgun in your hand. Your senses, forced by the silence and darkness, heighten, focusing on the quiet sounds beyond the silence. Not the trees nor the fields dare to interrupt the quiet distant melody of an old Irish song, and as you recognize the familiar tune your body trembles. Not in fear but anticipation. He decided to pay you a visit tonight. 

The melody grows louder as a figure emerges from the treeline, the red eyes glow like embers in the darkness of the deep navy of the night. A good distance still between you and the man, and even then, there is no mistaking him for anyone else.

Focused on the two red points as he approaches the house, slowly you recognize the thrilling shiver that travels from the very top of your head, right through your center and down to the feet. 

There is no fear in you, yet the pounding in your chest grows as the sound of his voice reached your ears.

He walks slowly, step after step, taking his time to assess the situation. He searches for lights in the house and then the barn, any signs that indicated trouble, any signs that would confirm you tonight, you stayed at the property alone. His eyes scan the buildings, the fields, the fence and trees as he makes his way over to the very edge of the porch. The soft sounds of the folk song pausing only as he finally lays his ruby red eyes directly on your figure. 

You stand in the silence of this dreadful night, the feeling you learned to accept, one that intrigued you over time. A feeling that put you at risk, strengthening your want to understand the unknown, the mysterious, the forbidden. Those eyes, they pierce through your clothes, your skin and bones, awakening something deep within you, something only you and him knew. 

“Told you not to come ‘round here.”

You choose to speak first, and the man smirks at the slightly threatening tone of your voice. The sharp pearly white teeth shine in the moonlight while he watches you look over him from behind the threshold of the old house.

“Now, Darlin.”

He starts softly, the sarcastic frown follows his words while he pulls on the string of the banjo, moving the instrument behind his back.

“That how you greet a guest?”

He teases, wide smile never leaving his face, sharp teeth almost as if on display for you to admire.

“You ain't a guest, and told you not to come here.”

You repeat, standing your ground, shotgun in hand, a heavy wooden spike fastened to the belt gathering your dress. His eyes drop to the weapons for merely a second before they meet yours once more.

“You told me I ain’t welcome. Never told me not to come round, sweet pea.”

He points out innocently, using your own words against you with complete ease, taking pleasure in every second of it.

“Two completely separate things.” 

Bearing his teeth in a wide smile, once again the vampire stands in front of you, eyes shining crimson red, the hunger inside him so deep you can feel it in your own body.

Yet your hands don’t shake, your voice doesn't hitch uncertainly when you choose your words as you address him. Your palms don't sweat around the handle of the gun and your legs don’t bend under his piercing gaze.

There is no fear. Of the others, yes, but not of him. 

Over time the town learned about the creatures, the people learned how to protect themselves, how to act, what was allowed and what wasn't. How the outside was no longer safe at night, how the only place where safety was certain was your own house, and even that wasn’t always true. The creatures had abilities, able to read into the memories of people once close to you, able to read thoughts of the souls they claimed. Survival was a challenge but some people chose to persist, not give up, live among the creatures and fight for what was theirs. 

You knew what to do, took precautions, listed off the steps in your head: hung garlic around the house, spread salt and holy water around it, you owned weapons, had rules that had to be followed. However, in all that, your greatest advance proved to be the questionable feeling that grew between you and the vampire stood outside your porch. Advantage, that, twisted into your greeted weakness.

“Your Pa home?” 

Remmick starts again, nodding toward the windows, staring into the darkness hiding the insides of your house.

“Now wouldn’t you wanna know.” 

You answer dismissively and watch his face turn back to you. His cocky smirk as if permanently fixed onto his lips while he addresses you. 

“I do know, Sweet thing. Been keeping an eye on you since sundown.”

You know he's not lying, it wouldn't be the first time he watched you through the night, keeping watch, almost as if to ready to defend his self-proclaimed property.

“Then why you askin'?”

You point out, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, hand on your hip as you look him up and down, knowing god-damn well why he came to you.

“Just tryin’ to make conversation. Pardon me, that not allowed, Miss?”

He teases, glancing down at the wooden steps of the porch right in front of him. Instinctively, you wrap your other hand on the barrel of the shotgun, pulling it up and closer to your chest.

“Now, now girl, there ain't no need for all that.”

“Or there ain't? A vampire on my porch ain't a reason for a gun?”

“Ahhh, you really gotta call me that, sweet thing? It's just me, you know me…probly’ bit more than you wanna admit, ain't that right?”

He toys with you, and the smile turns into a sinister grin, but you see through the games, the words, through all the ways he attempts to call you to him again. Standing up taller, you look down onto the man below you, not a sign of fear in your eyes, not a word falling through your mouth as you fight with the shame of the desire to know him better. 

“That thing really loaded, Darlin?”

The question for an answer to the silence you throw upon him.

You cock the shotgun, and a deep, guttural laugh cuts through the warm air. He applauds you, impressed as shakes his head, tongue brushing over the long fangs. It feels almost like a challenge, as if he doesn't believe you, as if he's daring you to prove it.

“Pure silver.”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Blessed by the preacher, too.”

You explain, knowing deep inside he's praising your widths, the ways you were always ready, more thorough, more prepared than a lot of people around the old town. Part of him was proud, proud of how you took notes of his instructions, his suggestions, the things he'd explain to you, the things he taught you over time, the things that have now proven to work not only on the others but on him as well. Blessing and a curse.

“You listen well, Sweetpea.”

He admits, nodding as he swallows hard as the hunger of the night grows inside him.

“Got a decent teacher, he's a pain tho.”

You point out and Remmick chuckles, staring up at you before glancing down at the stairs once again.

“You can come up. Not inside. Up on the porch.”

Making sure the instructions are clear and there is nothing that could be taken for something else, you let the man approach you. Still not allowed to enter your home, to touch you, not even to reach out to you over the threshold. He climbs up the tall, wooden stairs. The old wood boards creek under his steps, again then again, interrupting the silence of the night for a moment before he stands in front of you. You tilt your head up, staring right into the crimson of his pupils, not moving back an inch, understanding well what he can and can not do. What he could, but will not do. He stands only inches apart from you, so close you could feel his breath on your skin if his body still required it. 

“Two words, my Darling.”

He whispers, picking up on the sound of your beating heart, of the blood, how it rushes down and between your legs as he speaks to you, addresses you with pet names, the same ones he whispered into your ear in the barn only days ago while your body clung to his. 

His lips part, tongue licking over them as he pants, lustful, hungry, desperately almost. Desperate for you, your blood, your soul, your flesh.

“I know the damn rules.”

You state, firmly, trying to read through him as well as you know he's reading through you. He knows how you want him, how your body wants him, how you miss the forbidden sense of his touch, longing for his body, his lips. He feels how you fight the desire inside you, how you push back the urges, deny yourself the pleasures he offers you. 

With his eyes never leaving you, you turn away towards the dark sky looming over the fields, allowing your hair to fall back, exposing your neck to him as it brushes over your skin ever so gently. A cruel payment for the way he toyed with you before.

“You’re hungry, ain't ya?”

Your voice gentle now, almost concerned, almost pitiful. And despite knowing your cruel inventions he gives in to the hunger.

“Starvin.”

He whispers, leaning forward, almost closing in on the space between you both. And he would, if you allowed him over the threshold. The scent of your blood, the memory of your body on top of his, your flesh around him spinning in his head, it feels like a curse. Like you've crushed him with this want, this need, this lust for you, that very night you first let him taste you as you nursed him back to health. When everyone else would've ended his existence in the very spot he was laying when you stumbled across his withering form.

Smart girl

He thought back to that very night, and many times after, same as tonight when he saw you ready, armed and waiting for him. Pretending not to long for him just as irresistibly as he longed for you.

The sound of your blood rushing through the veins of your neck, the scent of it, recognizable to him over any other. Your body, silently calling for him as your legs twitch slightly when you let your mind wander, he curses the power you wield over him, even now, as unaware of it as you are.

You watch how the thin string of drool drips down his chin and hold back, ignoring the intense warmth in your lower stomach, the tenderness between your legs, the throbbing of your body. You fight, not letting yourself reach up to his lips, not risking breaking the barrier, not risking the safety of your family.

“Will you help a starving man, Miss?”

He whispers again, words brushing over your ears, his voice desperate. For your blood or for you? He licks his lips, gaze dropping down your body, his hand hovering over the dress. 

If only it wasn't tonight, if you were truly alone, if you didn't have anything to lose, if only you could fully trust him.

The ever present smirk drops as Remmick feels the cool steel of the shotgun barrel press against the center of his chest. With a confused, almost offended frown, he leans back, glaring down at the weapon you now threaten him with. With his hands raised up in an innocent gesture, he awaits your next move. 

“One of the lambs in the barn is sick.”

You start, fighting against the lust filling your body as he laughs, loud into the night, understanding now that you made your decision. Tonight is not the night, he will not get to feel your warmth, he will not get to hold your body, he will not get to touch you, to fill that need that takes over his body and mind like a parasite—the lust for you, stronger than the hunger for your blood. Tonight, he will not be allowed inside.

“Deadly. Won't live till sunrise.”

You explain, and the man nods, slowly. Sighing loudly, defeated before clicking his tongue, looking back up with the same old smirk but unable to hide how his body starves because of you. The lack of you.

“Well damn.”

His head turns towards the old building in the depths of your father's property. The place when he had you last.

“Would be a shame if it went to waste.”

You nod, agreeing with his words, but he doesn't move an inch. Your bodies craving each other more, now that you denied yourself the sinful pleasure. 

“It would.”

There's a moment of silence, a moment that feels like an eternity when you attempt to, but can not, read his thoughts but somewhere deep inside you're almost certain he knows yours.

“Now you sure your daddy won't mind you givin’ up what's his to a man like me, Sweet thing?”

His hand twitches by his side, knowing exactly how he'd hold you right now if you only allowed him to.

“Not everything here is his to give.”

You answer, and he bares his teeth one more time in a satisfied grin.

“Smart girl.”

The praise falls from his lips, and you hesitate for a moment. Your body aching for more with every single pet name and praise that cut through the menacing silence of the night. Your chest rises as you breathe in the cool air deep into your lungs, making up your mind with an exhalation that does not go unnoticed. He observes, moving his head slowly, flowing to your eyes, not wanting you to look away. If it was any of the others, you'd say he's watching his prey.

“Go on now.”

Pushing the gun harder against his chest, you make your decision clear.

You order, and he listens, lifting his arms up in a defensive gesture once again. That damn smile never leaves his face before he takes a step back, then another and one more. Slowly stepping down from the porch, onto the dirt path leading to your house, his eyes on yours the entire time.

“I ain't looking for trouble, Miss.”

He toys with you, and you fight yourself with all the will left within your body, trying not to give in.

“Get your ass out of here before I shoot.”

The threatening tone followed, with a gesture towards the barn with the barrel of the shotgun. Watching him turn to walk away, you feel a conflicting wave of disappointment as your body craves him. A part of your soul within you that claws to the surface, aching for him, a voice inside that yells at you to step outside and a much quieter one screaming at you to shut the door. Your body trembles with desperation, but your feet stand firmly on the wooden floor of the old house. You know better, you're smart. He told you you were.

“One of them.”

His voice again, it stops the train of thought as you focus solely on his words now.

“One of these damn gorgeous nights, I will get to hear the words from those pretty lips of yours.” 

He proclaims, speaking louder than he should now, and you glance over your shoulder quickly inside the dark interior of the house, before he continues.

“One of those damn nights, you'll let me have you again, Darlin’... and that time, I might just wanna keep ya’.”

It takes every last bit of your will to hold yourself back, to not let him see, not let him feel the desperate cries of your body, exhausted from how you withhold the pleasure from it.

“In your dreams, boy.”

A firm answer, no trembling in your voice, no hesitation, and yet you feel like he saw through the act. He did, from the very beginning.

“No, no no. In yours, Sweet thing. Your dreams, I’ll be there, like any other night. As you beg of me to be.”

A rush runs through your body as the memories of the night flood your mind once again. The pounding of your heart picks up as your body remembers his cold touch on your skin. His hands, steady on your shaking hips, his eyes so fixed on yours, his tongue tracing over your skin worshiping the warmth of it. His arms that could hold you up for days, his legs pushing yours open, and the feeling, the feeling he spread inside of you when you offered yourself fully to the sinful pleasure, to him.

In his mind, you belonged to one another. He was yours and you were his. Nothing, except from you alone, could stand between that bond, that want, the need, that desperate desire that could never be truly fulfilled. 

You wait till he steps outside the barn minutes later. The collar and sleeves of the white shirt, now covered in the blood of an innocent lamb. His chin and neck drip with the dark, crimson liquid. His hands completely still as the thick drops fall onto the grass, burned dry by the scorching sun. A hypnotizing sight, so terrifying to some, so intriguing to you. The vampire’s glare catches yours for another moment, the sharp teeth peaking from behind his lips, his figure slumps slightly, eyes shinning red in the light of the porch lamp like an animal.

He bows as if ending a performance he put on, just for you, and you watch as the figure slowly disappears into the dark.

Unable to see him now, you listen to the silence, waiting and as the usual sounds of the night slowly return onto the property, the trees, the fields, only then you step back into the house, shutting the door behind you. 

Switching with your father once your shift finally ends, you make your way over to the small bedroom. Your eyes fall on the window above the bed, the darkness of the night looming behind the glass, calling your name so distinctly, so clearly you wonder if at this very moment someone stood by your side, could they be able to hear it?

While changing for bed you catch, just out of the corner of your eye, the two small red dots, somewhere outside. Never there when you turn back to look directly at them but back in your field of vision once you turn away. Once again, there’s no fear.

When you lay down in the big wooden bed, closing your eyes, you finally let yourself feel what you kept pushed so deep down in front of him. Your hand wanders down your body, slowly, as you strive to recreate the exact same way his hands touched you. The painfully disappointing attempt to make yourself feel the way he alone could make you feel.

And as the night drags on and your hands work over your anguished body, the small drops of sweat form at the surface of your skin and the quiet, desperate sounds of pleasure fall from your soft lips. You hope somewhere deep in the darkness he listens for you, hearing every little thing you whisper to him.  Exhausted but unfulfilled, you curse the ray of sunshine that falls into your room in the early morning hours, forcing you to wait for dark, for him, yet again.

[purrgiri]

Me:no no i agree with jaune do you track it?

Ruby: Hi Jaune! Wanna have lots of vaginal unprotected sex with me until you ejaculate all over my cervix. I'm ovulating right now.

Jaune: Do women really track their ovulation?

Ruby: Motherfucker if that's all you took from that I swear to both gods-!

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Hi, I love your writing! Could you please update either "Danny's grill", "Congratulations! It's Triplets!" or "Phantom's number 1 fan"? Please and thank you

Jason is once again reviewing the map of potential areas Alvin could have been operating in when his burner phone rings. He snatches it up before it can pass the fourth ring, pressing it gently against his ear.

He offers no greeting. It's a tactic he uses to ensure that whoever is calling him has permission to do so. If someone attempts to conform his informants' and allies connection with him, Jason is not about to give them away by speaking first.

"Hey Boss," Honeycomb's voice filters through, edged by that familiar overdramatic southern draw she did when working. Apparently, the clients like listening to her use her accent. "I got eyes on that doll you've been searching for."

Jason sits up straighter. "Where and when?"

Honeycomb is one of the working girls who's been with him since his return to Gotham. She was the first to sign up for his protection, long before he did the whole heads in a duffle bag thing, and was one of his best eyes and ears on the street in exchange.

He didn't know her real name or age- but he was sure she wasn't underage. He made it clear he wouldn't allow it. All Jason knew about Honeycomb was that she had run away from her home in the southern states with nothing but her pretty face, blond curls, hazel eyes, and the clothes on her back.

She was feisty and could charm her way out of most problems with her silver tongue. Her manipulation of her clients was almost an art form, and she could get any information out of anyone with a well-placed hand on the air and a sweet little "darling" on her grubby lips. He often thought she would have been a lawyer if life had been fair to her.

"Just now, on Ruby Street. He was with a man in his late teenage to early twenties. About six feet five inches, black hair, blue eyes, and Caucasian. Alvin was wearing black tights and a red hoodie. The man is in jeans and a white zip-up." Honeycomb rattles in one smooth report, the huskiness of her accent making her articulation more pleasant to the ear. "Seems they were doing a photo shoot."

Jason is already moving towards his bike, switching her call to his helmet. His stomach turns slightly as he grunts, "What kind of photoshoot?"

"Not that kind, Darling. Seemed more like a scavenger hunt, according to Alvin. They are finding specific landscapes and making posses that are answers to some riddles." Honeycomb responds. Distantly, her heels clicking against the concrete echo a little louder, letting Jason know she has wandered into an alley. "I approached Alvin when the man with him went up a fire escape to take a picture with a gargoyle. I offered him my service to him as a cover. Once he confirmed his name was Alvin and he was already with a client, I left before he could get the idea I was attempting to steal his work."

"Good job." Jason boots up his bike, flying out of his hideout without hesitation. He was still twenty minutes away from Ruby Street, but if the pair was going to be a moment, he could close the distance between them and find a trail to follow once on scene.

He questions as he flies through two lanes, ignoring the honking of angry divers. "How did Alvin look? He's supposed to be with one of my contacts, so if he's with someone, it might be a John roughing him up."

I'll deal with Victorian later. He mentally swears How dare he not tell me, Alvin went back to the field after hiding out for so long without a ounce of protection.

"The sweetheart doesn't seem hurt, but I can tell his client is one of those problematic kinds." Honeycombs sighs, the edges of unease slipping into her voice. "He looks at Alvin like he's in love."

Shit. It's never suitable for working folks to meet someone who "loves" them. Nine out of ten times, it was just a wacko who became violent the moment the prostitute so much as hinted that this was only a job to them. Jason had pulled out three women's bodies from the Brown River the last time one of those clients fell in love.

Jason pressed harder on the accelerator. "Are they still there?"

Honeycomb hums "The John is on the roof now, but Alvin is waiting for him under the street pole-Oh shit!"

Jason nearly slams into a nearby car at her sudden yell. "What happened?"

She doesn't answer, but he can pick up the sound of her running and her fast breathing. He knows she is getting out of danger because if there is one thing Honeycomb is as a person, she's a survivor. He wants answers but would rather she focus on getting herself safe first.

He meanwhile, concentrates on the phone calls and the vehicles he's flying between.

It's a few minutes before she gasps. "Sorry, Darling, I had to run. Batman was on the roof with the John."

What.

"Batman just appeared out of nowhere and threw a bucket of mud at the john. Alvin didn't seem to notice, but I did. Batman made eye contact with me, so I ran." She concludes, pushing through her uneven breathing. "I have to go, Darling. Hideout before the Bats lock me up."

"That's alright. Stay safe." Jason tells her, taking a turn sharply as she hangs up the call without another word. The second she does, he double-taps his helmet to connect to the Bat communications.

"Barbie. I need to know what B is up to now."

_________________________________________________________

Bruce watches the Fae shake the mud out of his face after he has scrambled down the fire escape. Tim was at his side in a second, using a handkerchief to gently clean up the Fae's face.

There were a lot of whispered words, but based on what Bruce could pick up from lip reading, Tim had no idea he was up here. He just assumed the Fae got caught up in a juvenile prank.

Oddly enough, that was primarily due to the Fae covering for Bruce.

It was rather disappointing the repealing spell hadn't worked, but the Justice League Dark the mixture of John's Wort, primroses, and marsh marigolds mushed together with water socked in iron during the full moon should have made it possible to force the contact with Tim to break down.

Of course, this had been a desperate attempt, seeing as all the JL Dark had been unsure which method was best when he asked how to get a Fae to leave a human alone.

A lot of debate went into finding a solution, but in the end, Bruce had chosen a mixture repellent. He had even decided to use some holy water and trough in blessed soil and blessed iron just to make it extra powerful.

The magic users had all assured him it would work as long as it touched the Fae skin while Bruce chanted Tim's full legal name. It had felt rather ridiculous dragging a bucket half the size of himself through the city, trying to spot where Tim and his companion were, and even more so when he had sprinted across the rooftop screaming.

"Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake!"

The Fae had been in the middle of taking a photo. He set up his camera on a little tripod and, after pressing the time, had run to face the city- back facing Bruce- raising his arms to form a triangle above his head. Based on fact the camera was slightly lower then the Fae's torso, Bruce could deduct her was attempting to capture himself making the triangle top of one of the most iconic buildings in Gotham.

Spear tower.

He waited only long enough for the flash to go off, so by the time the Fae turned around, he had a face full of mud.

It splat all over his front, covering every inch of what should have set Tim free. The silence followed was louder than anything Bruce had ever heard, even as the Fae calmly picked up his camera and scurried to the ground.

Bruce let him go, wondering why he had failed. Thankfully, it seemed Tim and the Fae were getting back in their car- not the food truck for some reason- and were driving away.

Tonight, Bruce would find its lair and get his son home because letting him take a relaxing vacation was alarming to the rest of his children.

He rushed to the Batmobile, climbing into the driver seat and taking off after the pair. As he was driving, he could have sworn Jason just passed by him, moving like the devil was after him.

Bruce wondered briefly if he should check in on his third oldest but thought better of it when he noticed Cass, Dick, and Duke driving right behind Jason on their own bikes. His children had each other backs.

A few hours later, Bruce stood before a large empty field. He had watched the Fae drive into it and vanish from sight. None of his machines could pick up any hint on where they might have gone, but he was reasonably sure there wasn't any teleportation involved.

Sometimes teleportation left some traces in the airwaves. It's how Bruce could track people using the boom tub or find the Flash whenever Barry went on a craze.

Bruce was thinking that this was the Fae's court and his magical home was being protected by supernatural means. He just had to figure out how to get in and Tim out.

As he was considering the field, a soft, distant roar made him reach for his weapons. He turns one hand poise for a throw, his trusted batarangs in between his fingers, only to become surprised when he recognizes the vehicles driving towards him.

It was his spare Batmobile and four bird-themed motorbikes. His children.

"B?" Dick questions after spinning to a stop and sliding right in front of Bruce. He lowers his window, looking at him with apparent confusion despite the Nightwing mask blocking his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following a lead on the Fae. What are you doing here?" Bruce asks, lowering his arm but keeping his weapon. He could never be too sure this isn't a trick.

"Following a lead on Tim." Dick responds, stepping out of his car. Two other doors open, and out steps Steph and Damian, both looking posed for a fight. Of all his children, those two tend to be the most territorial and have not taken to Tim being a semi-held hostage well. "Oracle was able to track him through the city cameras after he popped up taking photos."

"hmm"

Jason jogged over to them with Cass not far behind. "Wait,, you got a lead on your cases too? We would check in on Victorian and see if he knew anything about Alvin."

He gestures to those behind him, indicating Cass and Duke, but the daytime hero is not paying attention. Duke was staring at the field, mouth slightly open as if in awe. Bruce straightens once he realizes Duke can probably see or at least detect the magical castle.

"Victorian?" Damian asks, crossing his arms. "Who is that?"

"The owner of the giant mansion we're standing in front of. He's one of my contacts."

"Ugh, not to make you feel crazy, Hoodie," Steph speaks up, placing a hand on the crook of her hip and waving her hand to the field. "But there is literally nothing there

"What are you talking about. This place is bigger than Wayne Manor."

Bruce heard about this. Guests who have been here before or have permission to enter can see glimpses of the Otherworld that Fae deals in. However, it is surprising to know Jason has already been in contact with the Fae before and has not been kept.

Did that throw a wrench in his theory of Tim and Alvin being the same person? Why would the Fae ask Jason to find Tim if he was in the creature's home?

Before anyone could say anything else, a giant gate entrance suddenly manifested mere feet from where Bruce stood. A soft creek was heard as it was thrown open, and a glowing woman in an old mail outfit floated just a foot off the ground on the other side. She eyed them all in an eerie, emotionless face before bending her own into a low bow. "Welcome. My King wishes to invite you in."

Well, that's not ominous at all.

His children shared a look between them, silently letting each other know to be cautious as they followed the floating woman. She led them down an impressive driveway that slowly gave way to a massive mansion.

Bruce fought to keep the surprise off his face. Jason was right. This place was more prominent and grander than his manor. It didn't just scream wealth. It screamed nobility; it screamed royalty.

The group walked into the main hall, some muttering thanks to the bowing woman who opened the doors. "Of course. The King stated that his home would always be open to Master Alvin's kin."

She vanished from sight like mist fading away as soon as they crossed the doorway.

Bruce's eyes instantly landed on the figure standing atop the grand stairs. Tim was gawking at them, wearing nothing but a long, seductive black robe with fluffy collars and wrists. The front of the rob was open, displaying a large amount of chest and thigh, but keeping the significant bits out of sight.

Thankfully.

His skin was glowing, his hair tussled stylishly, and a dozen red roses were in his hands. Tim looked like he was planning a romantic evening in his get-up.

"Oh," He said dumbly. "You're not Danny."

"What the fuck is going on" Jason demanded after a long period of silence.

"Um...I was planning on seducing my friend. What are you all doing?"

"Regretting waking up this morning," Damian demands, pressing a hand over his eyes. "Please get decent. My nightmares are horrid enough."

Bruce nods. "You were Alvin Draper and are romantically involved with the Fae. He seems to be treating you well. That's good."

All of his children stared at him for a long moment before the hall erupted with displeased noises. Bruce was taken aback.

Did none of them know any of this? It seemed obvious to him.

[humanstein]

I am extremely convinced that we are just beginning to unwrap what's going on with Ruby Sunday.

Ruby received the perfect fairy tale outcome—wish-fulfillment-level picture perfect. No New Who companion has had such a mellow and completely amicable resolution.

The mystery of her mother resolves with a blameless biological mother who made the right choice and a father who didn’t know she existed. And the mom who raised her is there too. She gets to have everyone. That happy ending was like a picture-perfect Christmas card, narrated by Mrs. Flood.

Additionally, I will need to rewatch to make sure but it did not seem like winter when they were at the coffee shop, yet it’s snowing at the end when we pan up to Mrs. Flood. Unless that was supposed to be much later...?

They also kinda raised more questions about 73 Yards than they answered. They confirmed that Ruby did not prevent the timeline in 73 Yards and additionally made that timeline essential to uncovering who Ruby's mother was. They also emphasized 73 Yards as the limitations of the TARDIS perception filter. Were the people in 73 Yards seeing beyond a filter on Ruby? Is the TARDIS projecting something on Ruby? Did both Rubys cancel each other's out? What did they see?

I'm completely willing to accept that ending if it’s just what it says on the jar, but I'm very suspicious right now. The "watch where you step" thing hasn't paid off yet either.

Something is still up. I’m starting to think the TARDIS is hiding something about Ruby and might have even conjured up Ruby's mom and dad out of nothing to keep hiding it. I know thats a little crack pot.

To clarify, I really liked the episode and I can certainly appreciate the themes of having her mother be normal and having intense value projected onto her.

However, that doesn't explain why the memory was changing, why it snowed, or why Sutekh would be especially interested. Certainly, the TARDIS has encountered more intriguing mysteries. Additionally, I feel like we would have been shown her face in the time window or the video somehow. It's either something or a bit of a missed opportunity in the script.

I feel like “projections of Ruby's subconscious” and “TV show” might still be on the table. Tell me if I'm off my rocker, but combine this with the fact that we know Ruby will be back, and, well, I think there's much more still to come.

So, basically, I'm thinking this is some sort of fake-out.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

New World

crownprince!hongjoong x royalphysician!reader

psychopath power hungry prince hj x psychopath delulu spy doctor reader who kill (literally) for each other

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

word count: 27k

genres and warnings: unhinged fluff only, angst, smut (mdni!) they're both pyschopaths, morally black atp, skewed thinking, violence and murder warnings, manipulation at its finest, reader is a bit delulu but so is joong, kinda tragic

synopsis: you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (just two simps for dom hongjoong what's new)

Red might just be your favourite colour.

Red was the colour of blood. Red was the colour of anger, desire and power. Red was the colour of the loveliest roses that decorated this castle, and red was the colour of Wonderland’s flag. Red was the colour of the badge that the soldiers wore at all times, as well as the colour of rubies that were your favourite stone and a staple of royal jewellery.

Red was also the colour of royal regalia. And oh, Prince Hongjoong absolutely owned that colour. It looked like red was made for him. Everything he did was red. His actions, his aura, his charms, they exuded red. The way he walked, the way he laughed or smirked, the way his expressions would change in a matter of milliseconds… everything was red. He breathed in that colour and made it his own. 

Red just so happened to be the colour that clear drug now turned into when you added a few drops of the new opium compound you had gotten your hands on when you went shopping in the black market. As the royal physician, you had the privilege of accessing the black market without repercussions, so you got a little of everything that would be considered ‘dangerous’ or ‘illegal’. Your sole duty as the royal physician was to make advances in medicine and make sure the royalty remained healthy.

Though… there wasn’t much left to worry about. The Queen had passed away when you were still an assistant a few years ago. The King, well, he was unfortunate enough to be suffering from a heart condition. You did everything in your power (though that could be argued) to keep his pain and suffering at bay but with each passing day, his health deteriorated even more.

And that left Prince Hongjoong- the young crown prince, loved by some but feared by all. With his striking platinum hair and a permanent glare, he was as cold as he appeared to be. The man only cared about swiftness and rationality in each decision he made, disregarding the suffering of his people and their woes. He claimed that a ruler had to be strict and authoritative for his kingdom to prosper, and his ideology had always conflicted with his father's, which was why the people of Wonderland dreaded the day when the King would pass away and the Crown Prince would take over.

You smiled to yourself as the solution became red, confirming that it worked. You had just mixed a few ingredients to make a new pain reliever. You only needed to test it out now-

And who better to test it on than the dying King? Sure, maybe it was too strong, in which case he would probably succumb to numbness and his breathing might stop. He had one foot in the grave anyway. But if it worked, he would probably grace you with more privileges. It was a win-win situation. 

You didn’t hate the King, no. In fact, he trusted you a lot- maybe a bit more than he should. He had recognised how brilliant a physician and researcher you were early in your career and had appointed you as the royal physician himself. He depended on you a lot, as you did on him, and his fatherly affection sometimes almost made you crack and forget what you really wanted.

What you really wanted was to see the crown prince become the king, even if it was just for a day. You wanted to be the person to make it happen for him. You wanted to be trusted by him and you wanted him to depend on you. You wanted to be the person that would lead him to the crown that was rightfully his. You wanted to fulfil his deepest desire- you wanted him to rule, even if only for a day.

Because then, you would take the final step and free the Kingdom of Wonderland from its last-standing tyrannical ruler.

But the King- the old man. He just wouldn’t die. And that was making the both of you frustrated.

As you poured the new drug in a vial, signing the register to record today’s progress, you put the vial in the first-aid box and took off your apron, hanging it on the knob next to the shelves that lined the walls of your workshop. You straightened your deep green velvet gown and made sure the pearls adorning your neck looked perfect. Tucking some stray hair behind your ears and smirking at your reflection, pleased with the way you looked tonight, you picked up the box and left the medical chamber, walking towards the residential section of the castle where the royalty resided. 

The King hated staying in the infirmary so you had fulfilled his wishes and created a setup in his bedroom. Your assistants looked after him throughout the day and you would drop by multiple times to check on him, hoping to get a sight of the painfully handsome prince. 

Sometimes, you caught the Prince lounging with a book or a smoke, or swirling the wine in his glass. It sparked red in you- red for desire. You weren’t sure if that desire inside you was for him or his position or power- or the desire to simply end him as planned by the Master and move to the next phase of your life- but oh, how you wished he would look at you with something other than contempt in his eyes. You knew he disliked you because you were prolonging his father’s life and preventing him from taking the crown.

You were. You were doing exactly that. You wouldn’t kill the King until he would really look at you. You couldn’t simply tell him that, so you would have to take a risk that could end up with your head in the lunette, ready for execution.

You greeted the royal guards before you knocked on the door of the main chamber and the Prince’s aide, Mingi, opened the door and let you in.

“Good evening, Doctor,” the tall man let you in with a smile and you bowed in greeting before you entered, glancing around the living room for any signs of the prince but finding none. Mingi shut the door behind you and with a nod, you went towards the king’s bedroom, knocking before entering. 

The old man was reading some reports, round glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Even though he looked pale and his eyes looked lifeless, he looked as posh as ever with his greying hair neatly combed back and face freshly shaven. Upon noticing you, he set the reports aside and greeted you with a smile.

“How do you do, Doctor?” He asked and you pulled the stool near him, settling down.

“Just the usual, but I have some good news for you,” you said and when his face lit up, you shook your head. “You must tell me how you’ve been feeling first.”

“Well… I think the pain wasn’t as bad today, but I still can’t seem to walk around too much. I lose my breath too quickly.”

“I might have something for that,” you said. Routinely, he extended his wrist and you checked his pulse, listened to his heart with a stethoscope and checked his eyes. After making sure his vitals were normal, you told him about the new drug.

“It is an opium compound, so I’m not sure how different it will be, but I hope it will get better rather than worse.”

“Can’t get any worse than this,” the King sighed and you almost tsk-ed.

“It can get worse, but I’m here to prevent that,” you assured and the King nodded. “There is a risk factor, though.”

“And like always, I’ll take it,” he agreed, sitting straighter. After administering his routine medicines and skipping the ones that could hinder this new drug’s effect, you made him drink a spoonful of the red liquid. His mouth contorted as the bitterness of the drug spread across his tongue and then he took a deep breath.

“I’ll have the nurses monitoring the effects of this drug tonight, but if anything feels strange, you can have the guards send a message to me.”

“Thank you,” the King said and you bowed, exiting his room and making a turn-

And almost bumping into none other than the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince Hongjoong, looking regal even in his plain black silk nightwear. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and you bowed in greeting, stepping aside and about to leave when he cleared his throat, making you stop.

“How is the King’s condition?”

You smirked internally before turning to face him. “Not better… not worse either.”

Prince Hongjoong narrowed his eyes and you sighed. “It’s because the drugs won’t work. I’ve administered a new one tonight, and I have hopes.”

What kind of hopes, he didn’t need to know.

“You always say that, yet my father is still bedridden.”

You noted his use of the term ‘father’. He always employed that term carefully, and you weren’t sure if anyone else had noticed that. 

“Well, it’s a bit… risky this time,” you began, testing the waters and when he raised his brow in curiosity, you knew you had him. “He might get worse before he gets better. Or… he may never recover if it doesn’t suit him.”

“Yet you still administered that drug to the King?”

There. He was now ‘the King’.

“The King,” you began, emphasising the word, “took a leap of faith in me and the drug if that means he could get better one day.”

The Prince nodded in understanding, about to go to his room.

“However,” you said in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one was in sight. Hongjoong turned to hear the rest of it, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of concealment. 

You took a few steps forward- tonight, the wheels of your big plan would start to turn. You purposely stepped a little closer than he would have liked and whispered, “I’ll tell you- the King shouldn’t be taking such risks at his age, and with his condition.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hongjoong asked in a whisper as if what you had shared was a secret.

You only shrugged, feigning innocence. “Who knows? If you really want answers though… maybe you could let me access the private library first.”

With that, you bowed and left, leaving the prince baffled. He opened the door of his father’s bedroom just a fraction and saw his brows furrowed in pain as he rested, the nurse paying no attention and instead more focused on knitting.

Hongjoong went to his room and found himself going over the conversation he had with you over and over again. He couldn’t help but recall previous instances of when you told him- and only him, he had noted- how his father could get worse or better depending on the situation.

Were you actually intending to tell him that you had his health, even his life, in your control? Had he been too oblivious of his royal physician’s actions and words? Had he underestimated you? He knew you were a good doctor- you were a renowned physician throughout the Capital. But were you offering him the controls?

The private library- he wondered what you intended to find there. Maybe he would give you a chance to prove yourself to him. Hongjoong smirked into the night sky, peering down at his kingdom from the height- perhaps, you were the weapon he needed to wield in order to get to the throne.

And if you were… 

Finally, the crown prince started to feel a new surge of hope and desire. Hope for the new world he wanted to create as soon as he could sit on the throne, and desire for that power.

Hongjoong saw red before his eyes as he shut them, letting the light breeze blow through his hair and caress his skin. He wasn’t sure if his grim laughter was echoing inside his head or being carried by the wind for the world to hear.

—------------------------------------

You were starting to wonder if your plan had not worked. 

The past week, you simply checked on the King and kept administering the same new drug that you now called ‘ruby’. It was a bit ironic to call it ruby, you thought. Ruby was Wonderland’s staple stone and what better name for a drug that would end the life of Wonderland's king? It was a shame no one could share the sentiment- when your assistants asked why you called the drug ruby, you simply answered that it was because of the colour.

Prince Hongjoong seemed like he was avoiding you on purpose. Maybe he was not interested in what you had to offer. You were pretty sure he got the message- the King was at your mercy and could be at the Crown Prince’s mercy if he wished so. However, he didn’t acknowledge your presence the few times you crossed paths with him within the week. A small part in your brain said that maybe you had made a mistake and he was being cautious. Maybe you should have never revealed all of that- maybe you had doomed yourself. If he suspected you of foul play, he could have you executed for treason. Maybe the Hongjoong did possess a functioning heart under all those layers of thorns. Yours had long been numb.

But maybe, just maybe, he was weighing his options. Could he trust you, the royal physician, a respectable doctor and medical researcher? Were you planning a trap for him- was it the King’s doing? Did the King suspect that his son really wanted him dead? Did one of his uncles, the Dukes, plant you here as a spy? They were interested in the throne- at least the older one of them, the Duke of Neverland Prince Woobin, was.

And why did you need to access the private library anyway? That was what kept nagging at Hongjoong’s mind. The private library was not attached to the main library but was located in the part of the castle that accommodated the royal residents. The only people allowed to access that library were those of royal blood. It mostly held archives related to court orders and the royal family history. Whatever could a doctor need in there?

With all these thoughts plaguing the prince’s mind, he found himself making way to the medical chamber after dinner accompanied by his aide, Mingi. Mingi asked if he was feeling alright but Hongjoong only said he wanted to ask you a few things regarding his father’s medication and that he was hoping to get something for his own insomnia. That relaxed his aide a bit- Mingi had been by Hongjoong’s side for a solid decade now and while they shared the same opinions on many things, Hongjoong still wasn’t sure if Mingi really agreed with his political views.

Hongjoong dreamt of big things. He was a dreamer and a doer, which he supposed was not an odd combination but a rare one- people usually had to give up one or the other. He, however, was not going to bow to this world- the world was going to bow to him. That was the world he aimed to create where he would be the ruler, where he would allow people to dream within his constraints. To him, there was no such thing as freedom. Freedom was simply a word to fool people into believing that they possessed the right and control over their life. Sure, Hongjoong was a slave to this word too. He dreamed to be free-

Free of the title of crown prince. Free of the title prince. He abhorred that word now- he wanted to be the king. He wanted the freedom to rule. And you- you had just offered him a shortcut, if he was right about this. 

Hongjoong was greeted by a few doctors at the workshop, the three of them moving around nervously and almost tripping on each other as they straightened and asked what brought the Prince all the way to the medical chambers- he could have sent a message. Hongjoong said he simply wanted to observe and check the progress of his doctors. One of them offered to take him to you, to his relief, and he followed the physician to the other end of the workshop which led to the room right next to the storage.

“That’s where the Head Physician usually works- she prefers a corner so she can experiment in peace- and it’s also to avoid involving others in any possible accidents,” the physician said, fiddling with his fingers as Hongjoong nodded. “I- I’ll alert her.”

Hongjoong watched with intrigue as the young physician carefully turned the knob so as to not make a single sound and slipped inside with light footsteps. Hongjoong peeked through the gap and realised you had your back against them. The physician waited for you to set all the equipment in your hands on the table before he cleared his throat and you turned to him.

“The Prince is here to uh, see you- your progress.”

“The Prince,” you breathed, your gaze going towards the door and you thought you spotted the familiar blonde hair. “Where is he?”

“Right outside.”

“Goodness, Jeongin, let him in then, don’t keep him waiting!” your eyes widened as you shooed the physician away and with the few seconds you had, you rubbed the stains on your hands and cleared the table in front of you. 

“Doctor,” his voice sounded, the door clicking behind him as Jeongin gave you both some space. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsied, your heart beating erratically and a bit too loudly- this was the first time you were in private with the Prince, after all. “What brings you here?”

“Just thought I’d check up on you,” the Prince narrowed his eyes as he walked past the counter with various vials of drugs and medicine arranged on them. He stopped near the ruby red liquid that he now recognised as his father’s recent prescription. “Any progress regarding the King’s health?”

“Surprisingly, he’s getting adjusted to the low doses quite well,” you said, noting the tiniest twitch of his facial muscles. “I will start increasing the dose in two days and see how he responds.”

“You mentioned a risk last time,” he raised his brow slightly as he locked eyes with you, seating himself on the very stool you had been sitting on just earlier. The proximity made you restrain a shiver, the cold countertop digging at your back providing a sense of relief in the form of familiarity. “I’d like you to elaborate.”

Got him.

Suppressing a smile, you obeyed. “Usually, I gradually increase the dosage and see how the King’s body reacts. The heart… it is a complicated organ and there are a lot of factors that can influence the working of the drug. Sometimes, the body ‘rejects’ a medicine which means we can’t have the patient take that anymore. The rejection can be due to age or some other factors.”

“And this new drug- ruby, you’re calling it?” Hongjoong asked, gaze darting over where the red vial was. “What’s so special about this?”

“Well,” you took a moment to find the right words to answer. “It’s more of a drug than a medicine, for starters. Addiction might be a side-effect but before that, there’s more to worry about. His body may look like it’s adapting and then all of a sudden, it could reject the drug and his condition could get worse.”

“Will there be any signs to indicate such a thing?” 

“I will answer that…” you leaned forward. “But first, I would like to access the private library.”

“And whatever would a royal physician find useful in the library?” The Prince asked, fiddling with the gold button on his black jacket. “It’s full of cobwebs and dust.”

“And a treasure of useful information,” you quipped.

The Prince gave you a threatening look and you sighed. “Alright, there are two reasons I want to access the library. I can only tell you one- that I want to check the family registers and private journals for any signs that this may be hereditary disease. That information is going to benefit you, and that’s my only purpose.”

“And the other reason?” He frowned, not really caring that you wanted to check for his sake. You supposed as a royal physician, it was your duty and he had nothing to be grateful for.

But your reason was still the same.

“I can’t tell you the other reason, because I’m not sure I’ll find anything about it and I don’t want to give you false hope,” you said and that got his attention. “But… if I do find something… you’re going to have to speed up the preparations for your coronation.”

Realisation dawned on Hongjoong’s face and he instinctively looked around before he stepped off the stool and walked towards you with heavy steps. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Loud and clear,” you smirked, taking off the mask because there was no need to show him anything but the truth now. “You want this. You want the throne, and I am your loyal subject. My only reason is to have you sit on the throne instead of one of the King’s brothers.”

Confidential information. How did the royal physician know that the King wanted to delay his son’s coronation and instead pass the hierarchy to one of his two brothers? The conflict between the King and Hongjoong was not news- they didn’t see eye to eye on many things and that was public knowledge. But how did you know all of that? 

Or was it so obvious, Hongjoong wondered, that the King did not want his son to take over the throne so soon? If the whole world was against his coronation, why were you presenting yourself as a loyal subject?

“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince said in a low voice, pointing his finger at you. It unsettled him to see you stand so sure before him. He opened his mouth to say more but couldn’t find the words.

“I’m just a tool for you to use as you please,” you gently lowered his finger, watching his eyes flicker with surprise. “And I’m only doing this for you. Keep that in mind. Have a good night, Your Highness.”

—-----------------------------------

A tool for him to use as he pleased.

And if you wanted to prove your loyalty so bad, he would use you. He would exhaust your services until you had nothing more to offer. But first, Hongjoong needed to find out just what was so interesting about the family tree that you were tracing your finger along the lines that marked his ancestry. 

While you said nothing about him watching you from a distance like a hawk, when you opened one of the registers and your features twisted from concentration to satisfaction, he craned his neck to read the title. 

“Why are you looking at the death registers?”

“So I can learn how the King can die,” you said, watching the confusion on his face change to intrigue. “And how to avoid it.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” the Prince said. “Are you really doing all of this to save the King?”

“I told you, but since we’re in private, we can talk more freely here,” you set the register on your lap, taking a deep breath. “So ask me whatever you want.”

“How did you know about the King considering one of my uncles to take over?”

“I have a few drugs that I sometimes slip in to make him talk,” you folded your arms. “And he’s quite a talker, your father.”

“How can you, a royal physician,” Hongjoong began, almost fuming at the thought, “abuse your power to make the King talk?”

“And why are you, the Crown Prince, not doing anything despite the knowledge of my medical malpractice? Clearly, you’re interested in what I have to offer.”

“I don’t need your loyalty,” Hongjoong shook his head, his platinum hair catching the moonlight through the patterned window behind him when he moved. “The throne belongs to me. Sooner or later, I will take over.”

“Unless your father announces that he likes the Duke of Neverland too much,” you countered. “Or the Duke of Mist Island. He may be a bit slow but he’s got better manners than you. Clearly you’re the least favourite.”

That was what made the Prince laugh mockingly. Though it was just him recovering from the blow that you delivered, you finally made him laugh and that was enough. 

“So, Miss Doctor,” the Prince said almost tauntingly. “What are your recent findings?”

“You won’t be sending me for execution after, will you?” You asked jokingly, though a small part in your heart was scared that you were absolutely wrong about the Prince. 

“That depends on the information I learn tonight,” he made himself clear. “I cannot have the royal physician murdering the King claiming that it was for the Crown Prince. Not a good look for me.”

You agreed, passing him the family tree and pointing at the death register. “These are the official medical records which are in the main library as well. But these parts-” you pointed at the red ink. “That’s information that was never made public. Abnormalities noticed during the treatment of your grandfather who suffered from the same disease as your father. Notice how opium was used for treatment for a few weeks?”

Hongjoong skimmed through the notes, finding an unnamed opium compound mentioned in the treatment section. “And what’s odd about opium being used as a medicine?”

“That they stopped within a few weeks but administered it again- look at how it’s scratched, but the symptoms I’m observing in your father now are similar to your grandfather’s even after they apparently stopped using this opium compound. I asked around and found out which ingredients were used and attempted to replicate this drug for your father. Ruby.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded in realisation. “But why would they stop mentioning the drug- oh, they wouldn’t.”

The air suddenly felt grim as Hongjoong realised that there was a chance that medical malpractice or perhaps, bad intentions were what took his grandfather’s life. “Who was the royal physician at that time?”

“No longer alive,” you told him. “Otherwise I would have confronted him. I do suspect that he never recorded this because he was afraid he would be blamed for His Majesty’s death. There’s also the possibility that one of his sons had a hand in this, though your father was unfazed when I told him that I was treating him with opium.”

Hongjoong cracked his neck, an amused look on his face. “One of my uncles then, huh?”

“Just pure speculation, but my bet is on the doctor making a mistake and realising too late,” you told him.

“So, Doctor,” Hongjoong got up and walked ever so slowly around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. “What do you intend to do about this?”

“Well, now I know that the symptoms of this drug wreaking havoc on the body mimic natural symptoms of the disease, so even if the King keeps using this and, well, dies… I can blame it on his poor health.”

“What do you get out of crowning me?” The Prince whispered, bringing his hand up to hold you by the jaw and even though his grip was gentle as he tilted your face up, you could feel the power exuding from him anyway. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely ravishing like this and you could feel the flimsy shreds of self control falling apart by each second-

You needed to remember that you were here, that you were the Master’s spy, that you were doing this for the ultimate goal. To save Wonderland. You could not be distracted by something as mere as feelings.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I only want you to be the King?” You asked. “Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants you to rule Wonderland with all their heart?”

“That makes no sense-”

“I want you,” you tested, a shiver running down your spine when his gaze darkened. “I want you to let me keep my post and let me make advances in medicine. I want you to fund my research and allow me to expand my network- even in the black market. I want you to cover me if I make a mistake and in return… I’ll be at your service, however you want. I will get rid of anyone you want.”

He could hear the sound of his heart thumping wildly between his ears. He could hear your breath and feel a whisper of it on his wrist. He could see the dangerous gleam in your eyes and he knew that you were a force to be reckoned with. How had he missed it? How did you appear so normal throughout all those years? He only ever suspected you of maybe fancying him because quite a few times, he had caught you watching him with something that resembled fascination, but now he was finding that it might be obsession. 

A tool for him to use as he pleased. Someone who would do whatever he wants.

Though you weren’t sure if what you said was just a lie or you actually meant some part of it, it clearly had an effect on the Prince. 

Hongjoong brought his thumb to caress the skin near your lips, watching you react under his touch. It was clear as day to him that you wanted him in more ways than you were letting on, perhaps more than even you yourself were aware of. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip, watching your mouth part and your gaze expectant.

Hongjoong kept his thumb pressed on your lip as he bent down to meet your eyes, his face inches away from yours. You held your breath, your heart doing little flips that made you want to crawl away from him. He stared at you for a few moments.

“You will do as I say, whenever I say, whatever I want. Is that clear?” He ordered and you nodded. “For now, you will keep administering ruby to keep the King alive. We don’t want his health to deteriorate all of a sudden. I want you to learn the King’s intentions- who he really wants to crown and for what reasons. I’ll only hear what comes out of his mouth, not your silly little speculations. Make him talk.”

“Understood… Your Highness.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, trailing his finger down your chin and tracing the outline of your jaw, trailing it down the angle of your neck and leaving goosebumps along your skin. He locked eyes with you as if to dare you to stop him but you only sat still, though he could swear you bent back just a fraction to allow him better access. He played with the pearls on your neck for a moment, trailing his finger down the middle of your chest until they met your collar, dangerously close to the hollow between your breasts.

With a teasing look and a smirk on his lips, he pressed at that spot before backing away. You took a moment to calm down before you shut the registers and put them back on the shelves, agreeing to meet here the night after tomorrow again. As soon as you were in the darkness and comfort of your room, you slumped down on the bed, exhaling.

You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin. You could still feel his eyes boring into you. You could still feel the warmth of his breath caress your face.

And while you were overwhelmed with desire, there were more important matters at hand-

Finding out what the King wanted. You would make him talk and deliver the information to the Prince to prove your loyalty and service to him.

You could only hope he would really look at you and believe what you told him. That was necessary for your plan to actually work. You hoped he would think that all you wanted was to excel as a royal physician and medical researcher. You hoped he would understand that only he possessed the power to make that happen. And when he would let his guard down, that would be when you would strike. 

You picked the mattress to move one of the bed planks, revealing a box that contained paper and ink. Using the clear ink on the sandy paper with a bluebird on the corner, you began to write the first message after months of silence.

“The arrow has escaped the bow and is flying towards the target, slowly but surely. The wielder should start preparing for the aftermath.”

—------------------------------------

“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” You asked, hand around his wrist to check his pulse, noting down the readings as he shuffled.

“Fine for the most part, but I feel lightheaded at times.”

“No changes in his diet?” You asked the nurse assigned to the King and she shook her head no. “Must be the drug then. Is it bearable?”

“For now,” the King confirmed, his eyes darting towards where his son stood at the corner of the room with his arms folded and a deadpan stare. The King shifted uncomfortably yet again and you shot a glare at the Prince which he caught, huffing and looking elsewhere. “Does he have to be present here?”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” You asked nonchalantly, comparing your readings with the last few days and noticing a pattern. “He’s worried about your health.”

The King grunted. “As if.”

“More worried than your brothers you adore so much,” the Prince mocked. “I don’t see them inquiring about your health. At all.”

“Aren’t you just waiting to hear bad news?” The King asked and when Hongjoong was about to retort, you raised your hand in the air.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t rile him up, Prince Hongjoong,” you said politely. “Your Majesty, you should avoid stressing about your health so much. Have you been taking your morning walks?”

The nurse cleared her throat and you looked at her. “He’s missed two days in a row.”

You turned to look at the King who appeared guilty. “I’m feeling sluggish lately. It’s harder to get up in the morning.”

You noted that- could this be ruby’s doing? Shutting your register, you got up and talked to the nurse while the father and son argued a bit more about the Prince’s unusual presence and the King’s unusual love for his brothers. When you took your leave, the Prince accompanied you all the way to the main door and just when you were about to leave, he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“I thought I asked you to keep the King healthy-”

You clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist to pull him to your right so the nurse who just exited the King’s room wouldn’t notice the look on the Prince’s face. “Can you be more obvious? We shouldn’t be talking about this here- and it’s not my doing, by the way.”

The Prince looked at you with scepticism and before he could snatch his wrist from your grip, you let go of it yourself. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he formed a response. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince promised almost threateningly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Tonight. Library. Mingi will accompany you.”

You huffed in response, glancing at his aide who came to inspect what the noise was about. Bowing mockingly, you exited the chamber and made way towards your room near the medical chamber. 

You were about to make a turn to the left when you bumped into a guard who was carrying some documents and you apologised, squatting down to pick up the pages that he dropped. While collecting them and exchanging more apologies, you thought you spotted a familiar stamp but the guard was immediately on his way after thanking you. You took only two steps before you realised-

It was the bluebird stamp.

You kept walking, the Master’s bitter tone ringing in your ears reminding you to keep moving forwards and remain unfazed. It took a lot of effort to keep a straight face because after months of radio silence, you finally saw a sign that the bluebirds were here. They were in the castle and they had not abandoned you.

However, when you picked your mattress to take out the box and saw a letter inside, the contents of the letter made sweat ooze out of your pores even when you felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. You were once again reminded that the bluebirds were a very extensive network with eyes and ears everywhere.

But how did they know what happened inside the private library? You and Hongjoong were the only ones present. The short message in the letter seemed to suggest as if they had taken a peek inside your heart at your most vulnerable moment.

“Do not lose sight of the real target. Do not get distracted. Pleasure is temporary. Freedom can be eternal.”

The two hours that you waited for the Prince’s aide to knock on the door had to be the longest of your life. You simply sat on the chair biting your nails unceremoniously as you tried to figure out just who in the castle or the Prince’s closest companions could be the part of the rebel group that was the core of your identity.

The bluebirds, trained by one Master whose face had always been hidden behind a mask, whose voice was a command itself. Your parents were a part of that group, but you could hardly call them parents because as soon as you were able to walk on your own and think without guidance, your training started. You learned the art of disguise, trickery and manipulation. You learned science and medicine until you started achieving things on your own. You were no one special, though. You were just another spy who was in the castle, disguised as someone of importance. Any doubts about you being alone in the castle were gone now. 

You were wondering if the Prince was aware of the existence of your group- it was a secret underground rebel group but it had been active for decades now. The bluebirds were slowly but surely infiltrating the government bodies and were directly or indirectly responsible for some of the major policies that influenced the kingdom. 

When the knock sounded on the door, you sighed in relief and got up to open the door to Mingi and you greeted him with a nod, grabbing your keys and locking the room behind you. He accompanied you to the royal chamber in silence until you were almost there and he cleared his throat. 

“Is there a reason you have to access the private library so often?”

You narrowed your eyes purposely as he glanced at you. “Ask your prince? He doesn’t have to be present- I’m just looking for something that can help me with the King’s treatment.”

“Are you sure you’ll find that there?” He asked, taking a turn towards the corridor that led to the library. “I mean… have you looked in the main library?”

“Yes, and yes,” you said. “I’ve gone through everything before asking the Prince for permission to access the private library.”

“If you’re looking for medical related stuff, you should look for the archives in the public library here in the Capital too,” Mingi suggested and you perked up at that. “Anything of importance that is no longer in the castle can be found there.”

“If it is of importance, why would it be no longer in the castle?” You wondered.

“Rebels used to raid libraries about twenty years ago, if you remember your history,” Mingi answered. “Whatever was recovered went to the public library instead of back here.”

Now that was something you had not been aware of. If important archives and documents had been stolen, why were they at the public library instead of at the castle? And more importantly, was it the bluebirds that carried out these attacks? If it was the bluebirds, why had no one told you? You could have visited the public library with ease any time.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to visit the public library the next time I step out of the castle.”

Mingi smiled in response and extracted a key out of his pocket, unlocking the wooden carved door that opened to the library. “The Prince is inside. I’ll be on my way then.”

You nodded and stepped inside the dark room, letting the aide shut the door behind him as he left. You walked towards the window which was the only source of light- did the Prince not bother lighting any candles while he was inside-

There was a sole candle on the table where you had sat a few nights ago with Hongjoong when you checked the family tree. Hongjoong was nowhere to be found though, so you started walking past the shelves, looking to spot the man-

And trying your hardest to swallow a scream when he appeared out of nowhere, though he was quick to grab your arms to avoid a collision.

“Easy there,” he said, sounding amused. Probably because you were positive all the colour left your face. 

Well, if it had, it sure returned with a flush when you noticed how close you were to the Prince and how human he looked in the moonlight now that he wasn’t wearing his permanent scowl and his hair wasn’t styled to perfection. The tendrils falling on his forehead over his eyes created a soft look. It wasn’t always that the Prince looked anything less than menacing so you got a good look at him before wriggling away.

“Sorry, but you could have lit a few more candles. It’s pretty dark here.”

“We avoid candles. Don’t want to risk a fire, which is why it’s usually optimal to access this room when the sun is out.”

“Can’t go around scheming during the day though, can we?” You said casually though the comment made the Prince chuckle darkly. It looked like he was finally coming to terms with you- and himself. 

“Doesn’t seem like the daytime would be a hindrance for you,” the Prince put his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he was wearing. “Did you switch the drug? Why is the King feeling off?”

“I need to research a bit more to answer that,” you folded your arms. “I don’t control the way his body reacts to the drug. If it seems like ruby will deteriorate his health at a rapid pace, I might have to stop administering that drug to him.”

“Lower the dose then,” he ordered. “Or do you have a better alternative?”

“A better alternative to what?” You dared to ask, earning an annoyed look. “Do you want the King alive and healthy for as long as possible?”

Hongjoong cocked his head- did you really want to hear it from his mouth?

“Or… do you want his health to decline such that it would seem natural?” You scoffed at the way he glared at you. “Surely, you must have made up your mind by now.”

“I asked you to keep the King healthy,” he practically spat. “And I asked you to make him talk.”

“I think he dislikes your presence a little too much, Prince,” you snickered. “I actually slipped a few drops of verita tonight. A harmless little thing, only makes you a bit hazy so that you start saying things you wouldn’t otherwise. And oh, the only thing he had to say was that you’re just waiting for him to die.”

“Yeah, well, that is the sad truth,” he said mockingly, glancing towards the window. “He won’t talk in front of me. I suspected that.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then,” you said, moving past him to go to the last shelf which contained the rest of the medical records of the royal family that you hadn’t had the chance to access yet. “I do think he’s aware that he doesn’t have much time. Isn’t the Duke of Neverland visiting soon?”

“Next week, yes. Bet he’ll be over the clouds to see my father dying especially when he learns that he’s in his good graces.”

“Well… that’s how I’m here to help,” you glanced at him. “I was thinking… your father was the crown prince, which means he probably didn’t visit your grandfather much when he was ill. He must have been too busy trying to keep the kingdom stable and running.”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong agreed. “I recall my grandfather complaining how he never made time for him.”

“And it’s a known fact that the Duke of Neverland tried to snatch the title of crown prince. Tried to coerce his father. Didn’t work, did it?”

“He was let off with a warning, and now he’s after me.”

“He must have visited your grandfather a lot then,” you brought the medical register that you had checked a few nights ago back to the table. “The royal physician who treated your grandfather is no longer alive, but the Duke of Neverland must know something about the treatment. You have to keep an eye on him and watch his reaction carefully when it is revealed that ruby is being used to treat the King.”

Hongjoong frowned. “Do you suspect that he had something to do with it?”

“I do,” you admitted. “Especially because he’s been coveting your title. He might have meddled with the late King’s treatment- it’s just an assumption for now, but it is strange how the late King suddenly passed away.”

The Prince nodded slowly and you could see that he was trying to connect the dots. You cleared your throat, catching his attention.

“I also plan to visit the public library in the city soon. Your aide Mingi told me that I may find something of importance there.”

Hongjoong wasn’t surprised to hear that so you figured they must have discussed something. “He’ll accompany you on that visit.”

“Alright,” you said, getting up to find more books and records on the royal bloodline’s medical history. 

Time passed by quickly even though you found little to nothing of interest, but it looked like the seed of doubt had been planted because the Prince seemed to be deep in thought as he kept glancing at the page you had pointed to- the word ‘opium’ scratched over and over as if someone had tried to erase the evidence of it. You smiled to yourself- the plan seemed to be working.

Though you kept one eye on the Prince, you became distracted by a book on alchemy that seemed to be annotated by the royal physician during the time of the King’s grandfather. You flipped through the pages, mouth parted in surprise and awe at the dedication and effort of the royal physician- he seemed to have created the blueprint for most of the drugs that were now commonly supplied throughout Wonderland, and that was a remarkable feat.

You almost didn’t hear the Prince until he was right behind you and you jumped a little when he rested a hand on your shoulder to let him take a peek at what you were reading. When he noticed the surprise on your face, he smirked.

“What’s got you so busy and immersed that you didn’t notice my presence?”

“Sorry, uh,” you collected yourself, sliding away just a fraction but he seemed to have caught that- he caught everything. “Notes from the royal physician during your great grandfather’s time. He’s a figure we doctors look up to a lot.”

Hongjoong flipped through the pages, book still in your hand. “Have you always wanted to become a doctor?”

A question so simple yet you had never been asked before. Your brows rose momentarily as you processed the question, trying not to lose yourself in the spiral of what the real answer was- that no. You never wanted to become a doctor. It was just something you taught yourself to love- or something you pretend to love so you don’t forget why you’re here-

“Is it such a difficult question to answer?” He shrugged, taking the book from you so you would have no choice but to focus on him.

“I guess I just learned to love it when I found myself in this field,” you said. Probably the first honest thing you had shared with the Prince. “Have you always wanted to be the crown prince?”

Hongjoong laughed at that, caught by surprise at your sudden question and you found yourself joining- you had never heard the Crown Prince laugh like that- like a kid, unguarded. The Prince seemed to realise that too, though that didn’t stop him. You supposed that since it was only the two of you within the privacy of these four walls, he felt more at ease. And though the rational part in you told you that it was good that he was letting his guard down, your heart ached for some reason.

“I guess I learned to love it too?” He shrugged. “At some point, it becomes something you have to do rather than something you want to do.”

You nodded- you knew that all too well. “You’re doing this for the kingdom.”

“For the people,” he said. “The King hasn’t been making the best decisions regarding the kingdom ever since he got sick. The people- I know they aren’t fond of me, but they do not know how to run this kingdom. They think resuming trade with the bordering nations like the King plans to will help stabilise our economy.”

“I mean… a common man would think that you would save a lot from land routes instead of the sea routes.”

“But the common man is not aware that the King plans to impose more taxes and tariffs on his people,” Hongjoong told you as if letting you in on a secret- it was, except you were already aware. “And I think even if they find out, they will overlook that. In the long run, it will only create more problems and smuggling will become rampant. We barely managed to control that when we were recovering from the late King’s death.”

“But do you really care about the people?” You dared to question, relaxing when Hongjoong only passed you an amused look. “Or is it just because you want to prove something to your father and uncles?”

“Can’t it be a little bit of both?” He leaned against the shelf. “The people…” Hongjoong shook his head. “They say it’s only the people who suffer from the decisions we make. Is that really true though? Because I think they’re living a pretty pleasant life without worrying about making decisions of such magnitudes.”

“I guess the royal class suffers in their own way,” you scoffed. “Insomnia.”

“Insomnia can’t be classified as suffering anymore. It’s more of a bonus.”

You smiled at that- that was true. There wasn’t a royal who didn’t suffer from lack of sleep- or lack of good sleep. “Is there something that helps you sleep better at night? Apart from the prescriptions?”

“Overworking,” Hongjoong spread his arms to prove what he was doing right now instead of resting. “And… well. Other activities.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you love to hear about that,” Hongjoong smiled suggestively and you were lost for a second before you almost choked, looking away to keep the flush creeping on your cheeks at bay. “Want to help me with that? Be my personal nurse?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, snatching the book from him and putting it back on the shelf, his dark chuckle echoing inside you. He leaned forward right at the moment that you were turning in his direction, the both of you surprised when you found your faces inches away from each other- you could almost see the flecks of brown in his dark orbs even in the faint moonlight.

Almost hastily, you took one step back at the same moment that he leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. You raised a brow, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The air was thick with tension, taking the form of something almost electric and tangible- you were sure if you mimicked his movements and leaned forward, you would combust.

The Prince slipped his tongue between his teeth in contemplation and your gaze fell there- a mistake, because you were so, so tempted to get a taste of those plush lips. If it wasn’t obvious to Hongjoong, you were curling in on yourself with each passing second as your heart and mind clashed with one another violently inside of you-

“Didn’t peg you as the shy type,” the Prince commented, barely a whisper.

“I’m not shy,” you retorted. “I’m just trying to find an answer as to why you keep crowding my personal space.”

“Ah, is that how it is now?” Hongjoong tsk-ed in disappointment, standing straight now. “Thought you liked it when I did that.”

You did. You couldn’t tell him that not because he couldn’t know, but because you were sure he would do something about it and that couldn’t end well for you.

“Looks like you’ll be up all night tonight then,” you scoffed, making the Prince laugh again. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Unlike you, I’m not a royal so I cannot sleep in or ditch my duties. Goodnight, Prince.”

Hongjoong only shook his head in amusement as he watched your figure disappear. The smile fell when you left and he went back to sit on the sofa, watching the moon from the window.

He was pretty sure you had an ulterior motive under the pretence that you were unquestionably loyal to him. There was no such thing as loyalty- a person was faithful as long as they were satisfied. Hongjoong knew that very well, so he wondered just what you were going to get out of killing the King and crowning him. It didn’t look like you wanted to sit on the throne with him, but he didn’t dismiss the possibility- you could simply just be very good at hiding your feelings.

But then… a smirk started creeping on Hongjoong’s lips as he recalled the way he got you flustered. It wasn’t his presence that got you all tense- it was when he flirted, that was clear to him now. However, you were putting up quite a fight-

And Hongjoong wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Plus… he really wanted to shut you up once. 

And if getting in your good graces- if it could be called that- would get him some answers then he was going to make this enjoyable. 

He just had to keep his guard up. And that wasn’t so hard, was it?

—--------------------------

It was becoming harder with each passing day to keep your guard up when you were with the Prince.

He was just as stubborn and hot-headed as ever, which was already something you had to deal with. He was especially jumpy since the Duke of Neverland seemed to have been attacked by a ‘rebel group’ on his way to the castle and had delayed his trip by a few days. The King was worrying too much about his brother and that annoyed the Crown Prince to bits. His frustration was obvious and everyone around him was having to deal with the aftermath. 

And because he was so frustrated, he couldn’t sleep which meant that whenever you met up in the private library- not to read anymore but to talk and plan- he acted… different. You wondered if it was the lack of sleep that was making him lightheaded and outright flirtatious but it seemed to be just… Hongjoong being Hongjoong. And you weren’t sure how long you could keep joking around like this- turning him down by joking was what you had been doing actually.

It was the little things- he would sit in front of you only to overwhelm you with his stare, his eyes scanning you in a different manner than usual. He would purposely play with the edge of your skirt or if he was feeling a little daring, with your fingers while you chatted about medical history or politics. You tried your best to ignore it, especially since there was an obvious reason that you could not involve yourself with the Prince. 

But with each passing day and each passing moment spent by the Prince’s side, you were wondering if it would be too bad to have just a little fun while you carried out your plan. And if you looked at the bigger picture, it could help you carry out your plan and perhaps benefit you in ways you hadn’t ever considered before.

It would also be a slap on the Master’s face. The Master who had overseen your training and told you that all you were was just a piece in the puzzle he was playing. In your whole life, even at the castle, whenever you were about to make a decision of your own, he would send a sign and hold your invisible reins back- just like when you saw one of the guards with the bluebird stamp. It was always a warning that came out of the Master’s mouth and never a word of encouragement or affirmation that you were on the right path and that your efforts were commendable.

You had dedicated your whole life to the cause of the bluebirds- to end the monarchy, once and for all. It had been attempted in the past but never successfully, and you supposed it was because the previous rulers had been wise enough to dismiss internal conflict so they could focus on the external threats from the bluebirds. However, after decades, there was finally enough internal conflict to narrow the royals’ visions. They would not see it coming. There were many key players in this plan, in the light and in the shadows- but you were aware that you were the wild card of this game.

And if you succeeded, which you were bound to from the looks of it so far, the monarchy would end- there would be no one of royal blood left to rule, and before someone else could take over, the other players would make sure that the system of monarchy would collapse and democracy would be established. Once that was done, the people would finally have a taste of true freedom. It was going to be a very tragic end for the royal bloodline, and if you were going to play a part in it…

Would it be too wrong to have some fun and have him think that you actually liked him? Though if you started pondering on the matter, you didn’t have an answer- you were confused. But it was becoming harder to reject his subtle advances and you weren’t sure how long you could hold your fort, so why not let him think he had the upper hand?

“You’re staring, sweetheart.”

It didn’t help when he called you sweetheart or kitten or something equally stupid (and something that strangely tugged at your heartstrings). You quite liked hearing such terms from his mouth and you wanted to hear him say a lot more-

“Drooling, now.”

“There’s just a strange insect near your ear-”

The terrified face the Prince made as he swatted wildly near both his ears made you choke down your laugh but when he finally realised you were joking, you laughed wholeheartedly, clapping your hands in disbelief while Hongjoong recovered from the surprise and embarrassment.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growled, shaking his head and you wiped the tears in your eyes, noticing that he was almost smiling now.

“Do you have a death wish?” You countered. “I wasn’t staring, neither was I drooling. I just… zoned out.”

“You were staring,” he insisted. “But I don’t blame you. I’m quite a sight for sore eyes, am I not?”

“Totally,” you muttered, not daring to fuel him further lest he figure you out. You set the vials in your hands aside, getting up to grab the washcloth and clean the counter. “If you’re going to make my lab your lounge, I must let you know that I’m not responsible if I ‘accidentally’ spill a chemical on you.”

“Yeah, this might not be the best place to get comfortable,” he sent you a suggestive look. “There are tons of abandoned rooms in the castle.”

“And you want me to give you company?” you wiped at a stubborn blue mark on the counter near the Prince’s hand. “Because we haven’t been doing anything, just coexisting in the same space. Sounds like someone has been lonely.”

When he didn’t respond, you glanced at him to find his expressions guarded. It strangely reminded you of yourself and you continued. “It’s alright. I’m not one to say, though I must admit I thought you had more people who you met eye to eye with.”

“Well, you’re the only one who knows my wicked intentions,” he scoffed. “I might have to get rid of you for that.”

“No wonder you have no friends,” you made a face, taking off your apron and going to wash your hands in the sink. “I thought you appreciated that I was willing to kill for you.”

“You know, I really don’t get it,” Hongjoong got up, walking towards the other counter where you were drying your hands. “You sound like you’ve killed people. Or you think too highly of yourself.”

“Well… we both have blood on our hands, whether we’ve killed or not,” you said and he realised that was true. “A lot of people have died by my hands, just like they have by yours.”

Hongjoong didn’t need to know that you had actually poisoned and killed whoever came close to discovering the identity of the bluebirds. He would only assume you meant that about your sick patients, and that was fine.

“Does it keep you up at night?” He asked teasingly.

“Not really,” you grinned. “It’s not what keeps you up either.”

Hongjoong shook his head in disbelief and wonder, his hand going to your face almost naturally to tuck the stray hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it, princess, just because you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it in front of me.”

Princess. 

How could he so casually call you princess and invoke such a powerful desire in you to be the owner of that title? To have the Prince repeatedly call you that? 

“Do you go around calling anyone princess?” You asked, sounding out of breath and Hongjoong raised his brow- he didn’t realise that it would have such an effect on you, but then again-

He had never called anyone princess, not even jokingly.

“Do you like that?” He asked, his thumb caressing your cheek as his hand cupped your face. “Do you like being called princess?”

“It’s you who said it, Prince.” you answered.

Hongjoong cocked his head in thought- were you after the title then, or had you simply never been called something affectionate? Because he did notice how you reacted every time he called you something as simple as sweetheart, or love- even when it was derogatory. He wished he could peek inside your mind and see what you were thinking-

He saw how your gaze darkened when you gently grabbed his wrist to draw his hand away from his face just a fraction, only to peck his palm- your lips felt like the brush of a feather against his skin but that only fueled his selfish desire to get a taste of them for himself.

“Do not ever call me a princess again,” you warned in a low voice, surprising him. “Do not call me anything that you don’t mean. I’ll take my leave first. Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Before you could fully turn away from him, he caught your wrist and tugged you towards him, making your body collide with his lightly. The two of you were now flush against each other, your joined hands in the air as he scanned your face, the desire in your eyes so obvious that it was palpable. 

And he was pretty sure he was very obvious too- he just couldn’t help it. He was beyond confused and it irked him to no end and he needed to find the answer. He was sure you were his answer-

You shook your head as if that could help your situation but you gave up and rested your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his body stiffen for just a second before he relaxed. He let go of your wrist only to place his hands on the curve of your hips while you fisted the material of his shirt in your hands-

Oh, you wanted to have a little fun? This was it, and it scared you to no end. You only took a few moments to inhale and memorise the musky notes of his scent before you drew back and made way to the exit without meeting eyes with him.

You couldn’t face him when you weren’t sure if you just wanted to play with him, use him or be with him.

—----------------------------

“If that black fake dye wasn’t obvious, your jumpiness is giving you away,” you commented when you spotted Hongjoong casting a wary glance at the poor teen who happened to cross your path. “You can take off the cloak. It’s just a library.”

“If anyone recognises me here, it could get dangerous,” he muttered.

“It’s literally the library, relax,” you said, looking at Mingi for help but he seemed to be enjoying your bickering and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re making it harder for me to concentrate. Mingi, can you accompany the Prince to the kids’ section please?”

“Don’t call me the Prince here- hey!” Hongjoong scowled, making Mingi stifle another snicker. “I’m not bothering you, okay? Read what you have to, I’m just standing here.”

“I mean… you are making it a bit obvious,” Mingi started but shut up when the Prince shot him a dirty look. “Alright, let’s give the doctor some space so we can save some time. We don’t have to go to the kids’ section.”

You groaned in relief, silently thanking Mingi who was originally going to be your only companion on this trip to the library. It looked like the Prince’s aide had gotten used to whatever was going on with you two, or simply didn’t care enough to question it. Perhaps he didn’t dare to, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But you still had no idea why the Prince was here- did he have so much free time or was he shirking his duties? Why did the Prince’s aide not tell him this was a bad idea?

Whatever it was, you took your sweet time exploring everything on the royals- not just the medical related knowledge you were here for, but political history and uprisings, specifically. You were aware that things could take a very wrong turn and you wanted to be prepared for everything. You didn’t want to be limited only by the knowledge the Master had allowed you to gain. 

So when about two hours later you went to find Hongjoong and Mingi, you almost panicked when you couldn’t spot them anywhere- but while frantically searching for them you heard low, oddly familiar giggles. You narrowed your eyes as you took two turns to find the Prince and his aide sitting on the floor side by side, pointing at crude images in the comic books-

In the kids’ section.

You cleared your throat, but they only spared you a glance, snickering at something funny they read but remaining unmoving. 

“Your Royal Highness,” you sighed. “It’s getting dark. We should go back to the castle.”

“Let me just finish this chapter,” Hongjoong wiped a fake tear from his eye while Mingi doubled over with laughter over something he read. You folded your arms, looking at them in utter disbelief.

This was the Prince you were supposed to put on the throne? This was the man the Master wanted you to kill?

You smiled to yourself at the sight of the two- you weren’t sure the Prince would get to have such carefree moments in the future, so you let them take their time, making a mental note of whatever they were reading. When they finished the chapter, they got up and got back to being the stuck-up Prince and guarded aide duo, steering you towards the exit and into the carriage to go back to the castle.

The ride was mostly silent, all of you sorting your thoughts out. You agreed to meet up later tonight at one of the abandoned rooms that had become your rendezvous point now. For now, the Prince sneaked back to his room through one of the secret routes so no one would question why he was out looking like that with the royal physician, of all the people.

You were glad that you were busy for the rest of the evening with lab work and assisting the other doctors in the infirmary. You went to the royal chamber later at night for the routine checkup on the King, administering the lower ruby dose mixed with a little verita this time. There were some answers you needed, so you dismissed the nurse, saying she could take a breather while you talked to the King.

“Hongjoong has been diligent lately. It’s strange,” the King found himself pondering out loud.

“Has he not always been diligent?” You asked- the Prince was known to be too hardworking.

“It’s like he almost means it now,” the King admitted. “It makes me rethink if I’ve been too harsh on him.”

“Or maybe he’s just preparing to take over more of your duties,” you carefully threw in the suggestion. “You haven’t been attending some of the meetings.”

“Could be,” he laughed, though it didn’t sound happy. “Woobin is arriving next week- he could be preparing himself. They’re always clashing with each other whenever they’re in the same room.”

“Hmm… about that,” you began, knowing that the verita was working now. “What do you think about the attack on His Highness Woobin?”

“What is there to think?” The old man frowned. “The Duke of Neverland has enemies just like all of us.”

“I was just wondering if you should look into which rebel group specifically planned the attack. It could be that insiders shared information and his travel route.”

The King thought for a moment, scratching the grey stubble on his face in thought. “You’re right. It’s either his men or one of ours.”

“You know, I went to the city today,” you told him while rubbing the pressure points on his hand. “And I heard rumours- people are speculating the Prince might have had a hand in the Duke’s attack. It’s not a secret that you favour the Duke and might pass the hierarchy to him- the public does prefer your brother over your son.”

“Ah…” the old man frowned in thought. “Could this be the case?”

“They’re only rumours,” you shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, really.”

But you had planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the King, strengthening his likening for the Duke. Once he would confront Hongjoong and demand answers or a confession to something he didn’t do, the Prince’s hatred for his father and uncles would amplify.

And when that would happen, you would be there for the Prince. You would act as his sword when he would demand it, and shield him when he would need it. You would do all of that before turning at him.

But for now… 

“He really thinks I’m not performing my duties properly?”

“You don’t have to sound so hurt- it’s not like he knows how hard you work,” you consoled the Prince. “He would think you’re neglecting your duties but he’s coped up in his room all day. He’s just being bitter.”

Hongjoong folded his arms and you shook your head at the way he was sulking, his frown deepening with each passing second. “He’s never going to acknowledge me.”

“You don’t have to get acknowledged by him. You’re the rightful owner of the crown. Neither the King nor his brothers should try to take that away from you.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m tempted to give up too,” he confessed and your eyes widened in surprise. He looked away from you, the faint hues of the candlelight casting shadows at the cuts and creases of his face. “I’m driving myself to do something for this kingdom only to be remembered as a tyrant in the history books you love reading so much.”

Even though he had pretended not to care about having such a reputation for the rest of his life, you were a bit thrown off to learn that it was a genuine concern he harboured in his heart. Once again, you found yourself blurring the lines of what was supposed to be the boundary between your facade and the feelings in the deepest recesses of your heart. 

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t know why I’m even saying this in the first place.”

“It’s okay to share,” you urged. “No judgement here.”

“Yeah, I might be a bit too honest in your presence,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You know, while we were at the library and Mingi and I were reading those stupid books-”

“You loved those stupid books-”

“Not the point, but I realised something,” Hongjoong sent you a warning glare to not interrupt him again and you sat straighter, crossing your legs that were dangling from the edge of the bed. “I realised that I rarely ever had moments where I was just… Hongjoong. Not the prince, not the crown prince.”

“Just Hongjoong looked a bit silly, I’ll admit.”

Hongjoong only smiled at that. You decided to do something about this- you did not like him seeing so quiet and sentimental. 

“Even the greatest of warriors are called privileged by people who will never know what sacrifices they made so their kids live a better life than they did,” you said. “You may think that you’re alone, but you’re not. You’ve got one loyal supporter right here,” you raised your hand and he let out a short laugh. “You don’t need to convince the world- or even your father- to see your true intentions. Not that they would appreciate it, now that I think about it…”

Hongjoong laughed at that, resting his hand on his chest. “That was a jab.”

“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t need to know you plan to get rid of the King so they can live a better life in the future,” you teased. “They would be appalled to learn that.”

“You should shut your mouth sometimes, darling. You’re too loud,” he warned though he couldn’t keep himself from smiling shamelessly. 

Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and wonder- he really was just like you. You weren’t the most moral person, you knew all too well- the Master had drained the morality out of you, but he- 

He was here, in all his royal glory yet still just as ugly as you inside. He didn’t attempt to hide it, rather wore it like a badge, though only those who really looked at him found who he truly was.

And that was what was so beautiful about him.

“Aren’t you glad to have me?” You teased. “I bet you can’t talk to Mingi about this stuff. Does he know that you’re hiding something monstrous behind that pretty face?”

“His only job is to help me with the royal duties,” he said. “He doesn’t need to know, but… I’m sure he’s caught on. He doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“You should still be cautious.”

“Yeah, I should be, shouldn’t I?” The Prince leaned back on the chair he was sitting on, folding his arms as he cast a suspicious glance at you. “Maybe I should ask Mingi to get rid of you. You know too much.”

“Oh, you want to shut me up so bad,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’m the only one who’ll dirty my hands for you.”

“Why-”

“Talking about dirtying my hands,” you got up and bent down a bit to reach his height, running your fingers through the hair next to his temple and catching the remnants of the black dye on your palm. You showed him. “It’s so noticeable- you should have washed it out properly.”

The Prince didn’t answer, his eyes guarded as he looked up at you though his mouth was parted almost expectantly. You frowned for a moment at the lack of his reaction before you realised-

He liked it. 

You hesitated before curling your hand in his soft platinum hair again, caressing his scalp and then stifling a smirk when you tugged at his hair a bit harshly, making him crane his neck up to look at you, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, love.”

“Stop me, then,” you challenged, not caring that you were going to risk everything. You positioned one leg on his thigh to lean your weight on him, your other hand going to grip the back of his neck. “I don’t see you complaining, Prince.”

Hongjoong hooked one finger in the pearl necklace that you were always wearing, bringing you closer and you almost lost your balance, a little gasp leaving your mouth when you pressed against his chest for support. Hands still on his neck and in his hair, you tried leaning away but this time, he stilled you with his hands on your waist. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like chemicals, darling,” he breathed, pecking the skin where his lips met your neck. “And roses.”

“You smell like cheap hair dye,” you said, resting your cheek against his head, his body shaking under you as he chuckled. “Don’t ever wear that again.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said and you froze again. He leaned back to scan your face. “Why? You told me to not call you what I didn’t mean.”

“You don’t mean that, though,” you told him, something incredibly sad starting to brew inside you.

“But I’m only ever honest with you,” he pleaded. “Don’t you know that? If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You sighed at that, wishing you were anywhere else other than his fucking lap so your brain wouldn’t have so much problem functioning, but it looked like for now, you were a lost cause. You caught the wetness from the outer corner of his left eye, wiping it down and smearing the black dye on his face in the process. He let you mark him and, mimicking what you had done the night you had warned him not to call him ‘princess’, he grabbed your palm and kissed it.

That was your last straw. You told yourself that you didn’t care if the Prince was honest or deceiving you- you only cared about one thing- you needed him. You rested your cheek against his, trailing kisses down his temple to his jaw and rubbing the tip of your nose there, making him groan. He squeezed your hips encouragingly and that only prompted you to trail more kisses down his neck. You found one spot and alternated between kissing and sucking, drawing away after a few moments when he shifted under you, grinning at the forming bruise.

You marked the Prince like you owned him. And the thought of that alone was making you lightheaded.

You locked eyes with Hongjoong, seeing red- red for lust. Before you knew it, you both were leaning in, your lips meeting in a flurry as you snaked your hands back in his hair, gripping his head to keep him close as you kissed. He brought your body closer while he kissed you, switching from pecks to open-mouthed kisses when you fully rested on his lap, desire coursing through every cell in your body.

This was it. This was the man the Master had warned you to be wary of- the man who held you possessively yet carefully. The man who tugged at your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth so he could explore it with his tongue. The man who kissed you as if he had been starving for it- you didn’t know about him but you sure had. 

You couldn’t bring yourself closer, bodies flush against each other as you made out for what seemed like an eternity before he got up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and then he dumped you on the old, somewhat dusty bed. You didn’t care though. You brought him in too, keeping his core locked to yours with your legs, his hands fumbling to open the buttons of your gown- he might as well have torn them. He ripped the bodice of your gown apart, trailing his lips down your neck to your chest and resting his lips on the skin between your breasts.

“Tired already?” You teased, making him chuckle against your chest. He ran his hands up your waist, tracing the curves of your chest before his palms met the bare skin on your shoulders and then he ran his hands down your arms almost lovingly, your smile changing to a gasp when he gripped your wrists tightly and pinned your arms above your head, almost glaring at you.

“You talk too much, sweetheart.”

“Do I now?” you scoffed, letting him pin your wrists with one hand while the other drew your dress away from your chest to reveal your perked up nipples, the cold making you shiver a bit. He cupped one of your breasts in one hand while kissing and sucking around the other, making your back arch against his body. The way he kissed you was too much- it looked like he intended to devour you. You could feel how turned on he was when he started rocking his body against yours, his hard bulge pressing against your core and making you stifle moans until he purposely pressed harder, finally earning a loud one from you.

“That’s what you’ve been wanting all this time, haven’t you?” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you squirm. “Only wanting to get in my good graces to get fucked by me.”

“Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen,” you said, out of breath. “I would have done something sooner.”

He chuckled at that, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth and drawing back, looking you in the eyes before kissing you deeper. He let you take off his shirt, discarding it on the floor. He let you run your hands on his bare upper body repeatedly, let you help him take off your dress and his pants until you were both left in just your undergarments. He let you take control for just a while when you got on top of him, settling on his lap and admiring his physique. 

His hands rested on your hips, playing with the waistband of your panties, tempted to do something about that too, but for now, he watched you watch him with desire in your eyes. He was surprised to find you so needy yet each touch felt controlled, almost calculated. He didn’t care though- it was already pleasurable enough to drive him insane. He had never let anyone take control of the pace like you did, so he was looking forward to what you were going to do with him.

And he was glad that he let you- you wrapped your hand around his neck experimentally before you bent down to kiss him, loving the way his kisses now became restrained as you controlled his air intake. You swallowed his moans in your kisses, not noticing how tightly he was squeezing your hips until he spanked you once, making you laugh as you drew back.

“Do you have a death wish?” He asked, voice raspy.

“Maybe?” You pecked his cheek.

That was enough- he flipped your bodies to get on top of you, shaking his head before trailing kisses down your chest and then looking at you, watching your expressions when he brought his hand between your legs and brushed one finger against the wet patch on your panties.

“Soaked already, and we’ve just begun.”

“Just begun?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry though the thought of what was next sent a new wave of arousal through your body. Hongjoong snickered at your reaction, wasting no time to pull your panties down, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched core. You kicked him away lightly before taking off your panties and he ran his hands up your thighs-

Pausing when he felt marred skin on his palm and cold washed over you when you realised that he hadn’t noticed the small marks and scars that littered through your body earlier in the faint light- but now, his eyes stopped at each one that he detected.

“Are you going to explain this?”

“Rough childhood,” you muttered- not the entire truth, but close. “Most of these are from how reckless I was, though. Nothing to worry about.”

Hongjoong passed you a look that said that he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t probe. Instead, he kissed every mark and every scar that he found on your thighs before spreading your legs and circling your clit with his thumb, now sporting a devilish smile. You bit your lips- if the emotions from him treating you so tenderly were too much just now, this was a lot. It felt more intimate and personal than anything you had ever experienced. 

“Look at you, y/n,” he called your name- a rare occurrence. “Look at you.”

Before you could respond, he sank one finger inside you quite easily, groaning at how tightly your walls hugged him. You shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure when he curled it inside and slipped another finger- he really did intend to fuck you, and you were going to take it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, meeting your mouth in a wet kiss. You tried to clench your thighs, overwhelmed by the pleasure you got from his fingers curling and opening inside you but he locked your thighs to the bed with his knees, making out with you while his fingers fucked you. Your breathing got unsteady and he knew you were approaching your orgasm which was when he let your legs free, your hips moving of their own accord, rocking against his palm.

“God, you’re insane,” he growled in your ear, slipping his fingers out of you and you almost sobbed at the lack of them inside you, though when he watched his soaked fingers in amusement and licked them to get a taste, you felt shivers in your entire body. He hummed in approval.

“Do something,” you begged but he laughed mockingly. When you shot him a glare, he nodded slowly.

“Whatever you say…” he brought his mouth so close to your core that his lips brushed your aching clit. “Princess.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs to keep them apart, licking a stripe up your wet folds and circling his tongue around your clit. You saw stars, your orgasm fastly approaching once again and all he had to do was dive his tongue inside you and press his thumb on your clit before your orgasm came like a crash, making you want to curl in on yourself but you couldn’t even do that because he restrained you, so you only writhed in his hold in pleasure while he made out with your sopping wet cunt.

“Too much,” you tried to stop him. “Let me breathe, Prince.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you,” he told you almost casually. “You have yet to have me inside you.”

“Oh, god,” you breathed. “Please.”

He snickered at that. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you looked at him. “Only for you… my King.”

“Oh, no, no,” he shook his head repeatedly. “You did not just say that.”

“King,” you got up to snake your arms around his neck. “My King. You like being called that?”

He did- it was obvious because he crashed his lips against yours, passionately kissing you and drawing back only to take off his undergarment, not even giving you a moment to appreciate the sight before pushing you down and sinking his throbbing cock inside you, though he was gracious enough to be slow with it so you could adjust. Once he was fully inside you, he remained there unmoving, pulling you up by your shoulders to resume your original position when you kissed him. 

You sat on top of him, whispering the title he craved so badly again and again as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses. He called you princess, called you his queen and you returned the favour. His cock twitched inside you and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed you back on the bed and started thrusting into you, your breaths mingling as your bodies rocked against each other. You told him that you were on contraceptives and he was free to mark your walls if he wanted to, and he bit your shoulder in answer, squeezing your nipples as his motions became unsteady and he jerked wildly against you, his warm cum spreading inside you. 

You kept him close, keeping him going and he thrust through his orgasm until you came as well, burying your face in his chest as both your moans mingled and filled the air in the room. When he finally stilled, he collapsed next to you.

“You plan to kill me, don’t you?” 

For a moment, your heart sank and you wondered if a confession had slipped through your mouth in the heat of the moment, or if he had really managed to peek inside your mind. But when he chuckled, you realised he meant it differently.

“Says you,” you smacked his arm and he brought you closer, kissing your forehead, the both of you unable to meet eyes for a moment as you attempted to conceal the truth and the guilt that accompanied it.

—--------------------------------

The Duke of Neverland- Prince Woobin- arrived two days earlier than schedule, setting off a mild frenzy in the castle as preparations to welcome him fell short, guards’ and soldiers’ rotations shifted, more medical staff got stationed in the infirmary and the kitchen-

Well, the kitchen probably got the worst of it. Though dinner went by smoothly, the staff was overworked and while you were passing by, you overheard a funny conversation about how Prince Woobin’s handsomeness and gentle nature made their efforts worth it.

You supposed you could relate to the sentiment- the Prince wasn’t very old but sure was ageing like fine wine. He was the tallest of them and had strong features just like Hongjoong, though Hongjoong was on the prettier side. The Duke was just as clever as he could be, and he was clearly ambitious especially when it came to the throne and its duties.

And… he intended to let the King know.

“Wonderland is unstable right now, brother,” Prince Woobin insisted. “What the other kingdoms need to see is that our royalty won’t collapse and we’ll stay united and put a strong front.”

There. He was definitely on to something.

“You’re right,” the King nodded, sighing deeply. “I will hold the coronation soon- I’d like it if I can see it happen while I’m alive. I know I’m no longer fit to run this kingdom.” 

He wasn’t, and you had made sure of that. You were just waiting for the right timing. You felt sorry that the King wouldn’t see his last wish come true but you were sure he would watch from above. That was something you were going to believe for his sake.

“I don’t mean that you’re not fit,” Prince Woobin squeezed the King’s arm gently. “But your health is not the best, and it’s better to announce the next in line in your life. I know Hongjoong is your son and very capable of running the kingdom, but I still stand by the fact that he’s…”

The King sent his brother an amused look. “You thought the same about me when I was about to ascend the throne. I didn’t do a bad job, and I’m sure Hongjoong won’t either. He will feel very wronged if I pass the throne to you, and you know that. The crown is rightfully his.”

“Think about the people,” the Prince whispered and then cast a wary glance at you but you pretended you really could hear nothing except the scratching of the pen as you noted tonight’s readings. It was too bad that you were done and couldn’t continue to listen to their conversation anymore. With a bow to the two and a reminder to the King to take his morning walk, you left the room. You didn’t notice the Crown Prince around though you shared a wave with his aide. 

To your surprise- or you supposed you should have gotten used to the sight now- the Prince was lying on his stomach on your bed, reading the same comic book that he had been reading in the public library that day with Mingi. You, for some reason you were still wondering about, had one of your acquaintances in the castle purchase those books and anything related to it when they went to town. You kept these books in your room- it wouldn’t be appropriate if the Crown Prince was caught slacking because he stayed up all night laughing over some silly dialogue in those books.

“While you’re here reading about some fourteen year olds fighting over a girl, your uncle is trying to coax the King into passing the throne to him.”

“Nothing new,” Hongjoong muttered, not looking away from the book. “I’ll be having a meeting with him before the ball. What we’ll do next depends on his answer.”

You settled your bag on the chair and went to the vanity to take off your necklace and rings. “Are you going to ask him?”

“No point beating around the bush, but it will be in the presence of my father and others,” Hongjoong looked up momentarily, meeting your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “If he admits he wants to get crowned, I’ll have to prove that he’s not fit for it.”

“How?” You turned to look at him.

“How do you think?” He asked, “I’m curious to learn how you would handle this.”

“You’re thinking of bringing up the Neverland Accords, aren’t you?” You asked and he nodded, not surprised that you figured it out. “That’s the one thing the Duke regrets doing. The one blemish on his career.”

“It destabilised the western region. By giving in to the demands of the refugees, he gave birth to a group of people with such hatred towards the monarchy that they became rebels. They left their families for the cause. I believe notorious rebel groups like the black pirates or bluebirds who were cooperating with my ancestors became restless because of this agreement.”

So he knew about the bluebirds- everyone who worked in the castle knew for security reasons, but he knew the history and the reasons. A few of them. And he believed that the Neverland Accords, which were about fifteen years old, might be why your rebel group was restless now. You wished you could tell him that it was much older and sinister than that. You wished you could tell him that the Master wasn’t just one person but a network of leaders over time.

And when you caught yourself thinking about this, you almost dropped the comb in your hand. Thankfully, the Prince was too busy reading his book while you tried to form an answer.

“Well… I suppose that might be true,” you managed to say. “I have something we can add to that.”

“And what might that be?”

You let your hair flow freely now, ruffling it a little before you walked towards the bed, the Prince’s hand inviting and prompting you to sit near him. You leaned in and told him your part of the plan in hushed whispers and he looked at you a few times to make sure this wasn’t a joke.

“I told you,” you held his chin in your hand, gaze stuck on his parted lips. “I told you I would kill for you. I came up with something even better instead. No one will suspect the royal physician, Prince.”

“Because you serve the King?”

“Because I serve humanity,” you said, the chuckle that suddenly left your mouth turning into a low laugh and Hongjoong frowned at that- while your plan was nothing short of a genius plan, a quiet voice in his head beckoned him to question how a royal physician- a doctor- was able to scheme like this. 

But for now, your hand casually resting against his thigh as you laughed was distracting. Your red, plump lips were distracting. The books you got him and the key to your room that you gave him were distracting him. The way you accepted who he was- the dark parts and even the sillier ones- that was distracting. 

Hongjoong started sharing that laugh, shaking his head at you. “Now I’m really hoping the Prince begs for the throne.”

“I won’t let anyone look at what’s yours,” you promised him, gladly letting him sit you on his lap, his book long forgotten by his side. “You can count on me.”

“Why are you doing this, y/n?” He wondered, his hands going under your dress to rest on your bare thighs. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you-”

“Why are you really doing this?” He asked, an almost dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to crown you too?”

“No,” you sighed. “I couldn’t be less interested in the crown. I’m interested in what you’ll do for my career,” you lied, deciding to add a sprinkle of something honest in there when you said, “And if I can be with you like this without the crown or the heavy title, I’m content. But you must know that I’ve only had this change of heart recently.” 

“You could ask me to crown you and I might do just that,” Hongjoong offered, looking up at you with adoration but you could see that he was calculating behind that facade. 

“Ah, now you’re tempting me,” you smiled slyly. “Does the crown guarantee that you’ll look at me like this every night? That you’ll always fuck me like you actually mean it?”

“I do, though,” he admitted and your smile fell. 

You were aware that Hongjoong only cooperated with you because he obeyed what you told him- to use you as a tool. However… had he caught feelings along the way? Or was this just another of his grand schemes- to have you lower your guard? You were still half sure that he was going to get rid of you once he was crowned, but now he was offering you something that you thought about only in your wildest dreams.

If you grabbed on to this opportunity… if you could be the queen of Wonderland, you would have more power than the Master. You could make better decisions for the bluebirds. You wouldn’t even have to end the monarchy- you could have the Prince agree to your terms. You knew that the Prince wasn’t an unreasonable man and he would understand if you participated in politics actively if you became the queen and he, the king. He would listen to you and probably even give you better advice- he cared for the kingdom to prosper, as did the bluebirds, so…

Did you really have to kill him? You could just rule with him and use him to achieve the bluebirds’ agendas. You could accomplish so, so much-

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased and you shook your head, pushing down the train of thought for now.

“You’re offering a royal physician the burden of the crown. Of course I’m speechless,” you said. “But… heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“The rubies would suit you, though,” he grinned and you laughed at that. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re actually the King,” you told him. “For now, I’m content being where I am. I desire power, not the crown. The crown doesn’t necessarily guarantee power.”

“I think you’d make a nice queen, though,” Hongjoong rested his back against the bedpost, getting your hair away from your shoulders to plant sweet kisses along your collarbone. “Though I’d always be worried if you would poison me or use some drug to make me bend to your will.”

“You’re venomous enough as you are,” you scoffed. “All that bitterness inside you will kill you one day. Besides, I don’t need to use a drug to make you get on your knees. You’ve been doing that pretty often anyway.”

Hongjoong gave you a challenging look and you knew what was going to come next. Especially when his hand came to rest around your throat and he used that to get you off his lap and on the floor.

On your knees.

“Let’s change that now, shall we?”

You only smirked in answer, obeying, and while it was pleasurable enough to be on your knees for the future king, the thing he offered you only heightened your drive and made you sure-

That now, even if it was for one day, you wanted the Prince to rule.

And you wanted to be by his side this time.

—-----------------------------

There sure was something in the air tonight. 

Tonight, the Royal Ball took place in the honour of the Duke’s arrival to the castle in the form of a masquerade party. There were many honourable guests from Wonderland and a few from the neighbouring nations as well. The theme was ruby, which you thought was very ironic. You could see red everywhere- in the costumes, in the flowers that decorated the Hall, and in the wine that filled everyone’s glasses. 

The sound of violins and pianos was adorning the air with notes of excitement and vibrancy. The beat of the footsteps of the dancers in the middle of the hall melded along with the music, prompting the audience to synchronise with their claps or their heartbeats. Laughter and chatter flowed freely in the air along with the bubbles from the drinks the waiters and waitresses poured endlessly. The smell of something floral and musky overwhelmed your senses. It was a clash of perfumes, but if you stationed yourself near one of the windows or the tables with refreshment, the earthy smell of the air and the ever-familiar smell of food would wash over a wave of calm over you.

And you kind of needed that right now, because there sure was all of that in the air tonight, but there was also a wave of palpable calculation. Every look and every touch meant something tonight. Every word was said with caution. Every step someone took towards someone else meant something. And sure, this was just how royal events were, but tonight was special.

Tonight, there was an invisible web of deception and lies hovering above the Hall, waiting to trap its prey at the right moment. Though your prey was one- or two, if you were lucky- there could be more who would get caught by the spider. All you had to do was wait.

You watched the spider- the Crown Prince- looking absolutely ravishing in a deep red embellished coat over a black shirt and pants that matched the embroidery on the jacket. Most of his face was concealed by the extravagant black mask that he wore, the red feathers of it creating quite a contrast with his platinum hair that was styled away from his face. He might be unrecognisable at first glance but you could spot him anywhere. He always stood out to you.

Your eyes scanned the crowd again to find the tall Duke who had been attempting to mingle with anyone of importance throughout the whole night. That man was full of energy and the dark part in your heart wished to bathe him in eternal darkness as soon as possible. However, patience was the key. 

You had to keep reminding yourself that- that you had to be patient and that you couldn’t stray from your path no matter how tempting the road might seem. But you couldn’t deny the fact that being physical with Hongjoong and all his offers were making you incredibly selfish and greedy and clouding your judgement. You were confused, and you wished you could meet the Master or even one of the bluebirds to have yourself reminded of why you were doing this, but with each passing day, the final destination started appearing murkier.

For now, though, you just wanted this night to go smoothly. You got busy when some of the royal physicians from the Duke’s court found you, and your chat with them was quite interesting. However, you kept stealing glances at the Prince. He was now on the floor dancing with someone in an overly fluffy bright red dress and it left the sour taste of jealousy in your mouth. You decided to take a chance and joined hands with the first available partner on the dance floor who introduced himself as one of the Duke’s men. 

You rotated around the dance floor and switched partners twice before you found yourself in Hongjoong’s arms. The smirk he had on his lips made your knees feel weak.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” He asked, twirling you around once. “I could feel your eyes on me all night long, darling.”

“Can’t resist you,” you teased, bringing your hand closer to his neck than was necessary considering you were dancing. “You’ve been enjoying mingling too much without me.”

“Well, it’s a risky move but since everyone’s so busy dancing, you can get away with it,” Hongjoong told you, glancing at the upper section of the Hall where the King sat with a few of his friends. “However… I can’t wait to take this pretty dress off. You have no idea how irresistible you look tonight, love.”

You smiled at that- you had made a little more effort dressing up tonight than usual. The black silk dress might be plain but it hugged your curves in just the right way. There was a slit in the leg and you were wearing maroon heels, one of them with a matching ribbon that was tied up and around your leg in an intricate pattern, the bow situated right below the slit of the dress. You wore a red mask that covered half your face and extended towards your other eye as well. 

“You look quite charming too,” you said. “Red really is your colour.”

“Red looks like your colour,” the Prince said, pointing his eyes in the direction of the red ruby earrings you were wearing- a gift from the Prince himself for tonight. “I told you- the rubies suit you.”

Before you could respond to that, he squeezed your waist before rotating to switch partners once again, and you were left with those words playing in your head for the rest of the night- but you didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the dances ended and everyone started drinking or leaving for the night, you caught the Prince nodding at you before exiting the Hall and you started following him through the very empty corridors, making sure no one would catch you together.

You saw him go inside one of the abandoned rooms you had used in your early days to meet up and when you went inside and shut the door, Hongjoong was on you in a moment, cupping your masked face and kissing the exposed part of your lips which had to be a struggle because when he drew back, he had your red lipstick smeared across his own lips.

And the sight of that made you physically weak but Hongjoong was quick to hold you with a laugh.

“Already on your knees for me?” He commented and you smacked his chest, taking off your mask and his so you could finally kiss him properly. You broke apart for air and rested your head on his shoulder.

“It’s been a while.”

It had been about five days. The first three days got you anxious enough to want to contact his aide to see if the Prince really was busy or just avoiding you, but then he had the rubies delivered to your room. You wore them that night and looked at your reflection for the longest time, wondering how you would look in a matching crown.

“Yeah, it has been,” Hongjoong said, sweetly kissing your temple and then lifting your face by your chin to kiss you again, his tongue sliding in at the first opportunity. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pushed you against the door, his hand going to grab your thigh and bringing it up so he could press himself to you, lazily playing with the ribbon wound around it.

You broke apart for air, brushing your noses teasingly. “Missed me?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, “I have quite a few updates.”

“And so have I,” you grinned. “You first?”

“Well,” Hongjoong began, his hand on your thigh travelling to the inner side, drawing your panties away to slide his fingers along your wet folds. “The meeting was a success for me. Prince Woobin admitted he would like my crown, and my court was not happy with it. I brought up the Neverland Accords and that made him lose his temper. Good thing the King witnessed that.”

“Ah, that’s good,” you said, which came out more as a moan when he slipped a digit inside you, rubbing your clit in slow strokes with his thumb. “Is that why he’s been trying so hard to get in everyone’s good graces tonight?”

Hongjoong took a moment to respond, too busy trailing kisses down your neck and along your shoulders, drawing the straps of the half-sleeve dress away. “Surely. He has no idea what’s coming for him.”

“About that,” you rocked your hips against his hand when he inserted another finger inside, resting your head back against the door. “The King mentioned something about his father’s illness being similar to his own. I took the opportunity to tell him about ruby.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong paused and you gave him a warning look, prompting him to continue thrusting his fingers inside you.

“I mean,” you breathed, curling into his body when you could feel the familiar buildup of an orgasm. “I tricked him. I told him that I was instructed to use an opium compound by the Duke’s royal physicians- which is true, by the way, I discussed the medical side of it with him in the earlier days- ah.”

Hongjoong smirked when you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowed his pace. He was playing with you and it always drove you mad and he loved seeing you in that state.

“So I told him that I was suspicious about ruby and requested the Prince- you- to let me access the private library so I could check if this was the right drug to use. And then I- Hongjoong!”

You moaned loudly when he pressed your clit, the orgasm crashing over you suddenly and with a force that had you gripping at him for dear life. Hongjoong helped you recover from it, rubbing your clit in slow circles and caressing your cheek as you shuddered before he picked you up in his arms and brought you to the couch, looking up at you.

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“Say my name,” he commanded and you brought your face next to his to whisper his name in his ear. He groaned at that, making quick work of unfastening his belt and you barely had time- and the strength- to take off your panties before he had you sit on his hard cock, easily sliding in.

“Now talk.”

You gave him a look, your walls clenching around him at the way he ordered you and he scoffed. “Uh… where was I?”

“Library.”

“Right,” you tried moving but he gripped your hips, making you sit still and you gave up. “So I told him that I found something suspicious in the library which is making me suspect that Prince Woobin had a hand in the late King’s death. Because it was Prince Woobin’s royal physician who was aware of this opium compound, who also happens to be the mentee of the Late King’s dead doctor.”

“Ah…” Hongjoong nodded. “So my father knows that I’m aware of this?”

“I told him that I’ve addressed my suspicions to you and you’re investigating the matter.”

“So when I finally tell him that I’m suspecting the Duke-”

“He will believe you because he’s already heard from me, and I’m his doctor,” you grinned. “I can’t be lying to him about this- and I’ve been lowering his dose slowly anyway so he thinks that I’m trying to get him off this medication without adverse effects.”

“And why are you lowering it? I thought you were going to kill him with ruby?”

“I found a better alternative,” you smirked. “One that would make it look more natural than ruby. And do you know what I call it?”

“What?”

“Silver Light,” you kissed the top of his head. “Like the colour of your hair.”

Hongjoong laughed at that, shaking his head and gladly meeting your lips in a kiss that quickly got heated and prompted him to thrust his cock inside you deeply and you quickly returned the sentiment, bouncing on top of him and matching his energy.

“You’re insane,” he told you, sucking at your bottom lip. “With this, the Duke will finally be out of my way.”

“What about the Duke of Mist- Prince Woojin?” You asked, tugging at his hair which always turned him on.

“An accomplice, maybe,” Hongjoong breathed and you knew he was close. “He’ll be exiled but only after he watches his brother get executed.”

“How fun,” you licked a spot on his neck before kissing there. “Calls for a feast.”

“Oh, I’ll have one right here,” Hongjoong looked down at your joined cores, rolling his hips along yours. “Say my name, princess.”

You were so close. You joined your foreheads as he took control of the pace and you called his name in soft whispers again and again until he was spilling inside you, until his warmth covered you and made you become undone in his arms once again.

And when the two of you laughed maniacally, you decided it.

You were not going to give him up. Not like this- not like the Master wanted you to.

You would take your sweet time. You would have him satisfy your desire like this for as long as he was under your control. You would have him fill you up, have him mark your skin just like he was doing now, have him call you princess, or queen, or whatever the fuck he wanted to. You would wear the ruby crown he loved so much. You would sit on his lap while he sat on the throne.

You only hoped the tugging at your heart was for the desire for all of that instead of the desire to be looked at with love.

—--------------------------------

The past week had been nothing short of eventful and chaotic, to put it simply.

With the King suspecting his brother which bled in his interactions, making the Duke wonder if the King had made up his mind to crown his son, he started trying to reason with the King. His method was the same as Hongjoong’s- to dig up dirt on the Prince and tell the King of his shortcomings. However, the Duke was not aware that he was being suspected of treason, and there was no bigger sin than treason for the King. How could a son kill his own father? 

The King found himself thinking about the reason a lot. He mentioned it when you slipped verita into his drug. He asked you if it was common for a child to kill his parents.

“Unheard of,” you told him. “Depends on the circumstances, I guess. When you have power, you’ll be targeted by anyone and everyone- it wouldn’t matter if they’re blood relations.”

“Sometimes I wish I was a farmer,” the King laughed in disappointment. “I could have lived a good life.”

“They have their own set of troubles,” you told him. “They worry about how to feed their wife and kids. They worry about having too many mouths to feed but then find themselves with even more. And then they do worse things than kill their children and live with the guilt.”

“What’s worse than death?”

“I guess you’ll know soon,” you shrugged and he passed you a side-eye. “If your brother really had a hand in your father’s death… whatever you do next would make you think back to this moment.”

The grief the King felt was clear, and it became even worse when Hongjoong, as per his father’s request, finally concluded the investigation and found the Duke of Neverland, Prince Woobin, guilty of the late King’s murder with the Duke of Mist, Prince Woojin, a suspected accomplice. 

Tonight, Prince Woobin was going to get hanged in the square within the castle walls. The kingdom was in an uproar with his supporters crowding the streets and making home outside the castle walls. Many believed he was being wronged because apart from the Neverland Accords, his career had been pretty remarkable. If you were objective, he was probably fit to run this kingdom too. Prince Hongjoong might be a skilled leader but he still lacked a few important qualities that the people wanted in their future king, such as empathy. You weren’t one to say though, when you had orchestrated this whole plan.

The Duke of Mist Island, Prince Woojin, was choosing to remain silent. It was probably because if he spoke in the favour of Prince Woobin, the suspicions of him being an accomplice would sound true. While the kingdom was outraged, the current king and prince weren’t void of supporters. By choosing to remain silent, he would only get exiled until proven guilty or innocent. He had to think of himself.

One thing was clear to everyone, though. The monarchy was falling apart and it was causing a palpable sense of restlessness. The King’s health was declining at a rapid rate now and his heart was weaker- it was grief that was doing your job for you. Prince Hongjoong was trying his best to keep things calm and so far, he had it under control. It looked like he would soon earn the favour of the majority with his uncles out of the picture. The people had no other choice.

You were stationed at the King’s side, next to his retired aide- an old man who came to be with the King at this difficult moment. You needed to be here in case the King suddenly felt unwell- after all, he was going to witness his little brother get executed.

Hongjoong was seated on the other side and every time that he glanced at the King to make sure if he was alright, he would meet your eyes. You exchanged no signals, though. Tonight, you had hundreds of eyes trained on you. If anyone caught you sharing eye contact, they would simply think the Prince was worried about his father and was making sure that the doctor was alert. If he was doing this consciously, you had to commend his acting.

Prince Woobin’s face was covered with a black cloth as he entered the square, being walked by the guards who held his chained arms. You looked across the square to find his royal physician whose licence was revoked for medical negligence on the basis that he was aware of ruby’s effects- and possibly, how it was used for the murder of the late King. The fact that he had done nothing about it and encouraged you to use it instead made his position worse. You talked to the King and told him that revoking his licence was enough since nobody could have guessed that ruby was dangerous without referring to the royal archives in the private library. 

The guards made Prince Woobin kneel in front of the King, though a level and quite a distance separated the brothers. His mask was taken off, revealing the Duke in a ghastly state. His eyes were sunken though they harboured pure hatred for the people who were wrongly blaming him. The fire burning from the torch illuminated one side of his face, casting deep shadows on the other.

“Your Majesty!” Prince Woobin’s voice boomed through the area, earning startled gasps from the crowd. “Brother dear! I urge you to reconsider and reinvestigate.”

The King sighed deeply. “All the evidence points to you. You plotted to kill me the same way you killed my father.”

“He was my father too, and I would never do that. I may have been after the crown since long ago, but it was never my intention to get my hands bloody along the way. I’m not like this, and you know that.”

“Do I?” The King asked himself, ignoring his brother’s plea of innocence. 

Hongjoong got up this time and his uncle looked at him with such distaste in his eyes that you almost got worried. “Your services to the Kingdom of Wonderland are appreciated. However, you are guilty of treason and murder of the late King, an unforgivable act. We must set an example, however much it pains us.”

Prince Woobin only scoffed in response and spat on the ground, causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prince Hongjoong, however, remained unfazed. 

“Any last words?”

“Yes,” the Duke stood up, standing tall in front of everyone. “You will regret this. Tonight marks the beginning of the end.”

The King rested his head in his hands, overcome with emotions and you asked him if he was feeling alright, even though it was obvious that he was not. You looked at Hongjoong and he stood in front of his father, blocking his view.

“I- I can’t watch this,” the King wiped his eyes.

“It has to happen in your presence- you know the rules,” Prince Hongjoong rubbed his father’s back. “I’ll cover you.”

Prince Hongjoong signalled the executioners to begin and the crowd fell eerily silent as the Duke was led to the gallows. The air felt grim and the Duke’s footsteps were heavy. Though he looked pale when his gaze settled on the blade that was to decapitate his head, he settled on the lunette with a sense of resignation and finality. 

The executioner’s words went over your head. All you could see and hear was red. Red for lies, red for deception and red for death. The blade’s drop was swift and silent but whatever sound it made was masked by the fear and warning delivered as a message through this execution.

The King left immediately after and you followed after him, sharing one last look with Hongjoong whose head was held higher than ever. Perhaps, the burden of the crown was starting to feel lighter on his head. You wished you could kiss his head at that moment and tell him that it was going to get easier from here.

However, it looked like you did not need to. That night, when you went to find the Prince in one of the abandoned rooms, you found them empty. Wondering if he was in your room- or his own room- you started going back towards the residential area but the faint sound of music caught your attention. If it had been any other day, you would have ignored it but something prompted you to investigate.

In one of the storage rooms that held old musical instruments, the room that was once an active class, was the Crown Prince shaking his arms in the air like a maestro, playing an invisible instrument to the music blasting off the gramophone. You remained frozen in the doorway, watching him dance like a maniac to whatever was going on in his head. His movements quickened as the music reached the crescendo and they both crashed down in harmony with the Prince twirling and laughing loudly to himself.

Was he that happy? Was he this pleased now that he was sure that he would be ascending the throne? Strangely enough, the words of your Master started feeling substantial. He wasn’t wrong when he told you why the Crown Prince wasn’t fit for the crown, and you were only realising it now in its full weightage.

The Crown Prince was a madman, blinded by the desire for power and nothing else. He would do anything to have his way. He was celebrating being one step closer to the throne even though the path was marred by blood now. Did he really think you were his equal? Of course not, he was a royal. But did he think you were someone significant in his life now that things were shifting between you two, or had he taken your words too seriously? Were you still just a tool to him? And would he use you even if it meant he had to crown you?

You decided to leave him be for the night, going back to your room to send a message to the Master and make preparations for the final hurdle-

The King.

—--------------------------

If you were honest, you had imagined the Prince choking you far too many times. 

You imagined it would be a result of a spontaneous sequence of events- perhaps, while he kissed you and his hand went around your neck instead of cupping the side like he usually did, he would realise you might have a thing for getting choked. Maybe he would even hear you moan in response and look in your eyes to confirm if you liked it.

Or perhaps, it could be a consequence of a heated moment, such as him on top of you and thrusting relentlessly into you, recognising that you were inches away from an orgasm, and right when your body would arch and jerk as it crashed over you, he would squeeze the sides of your neck to heighten it further. You thought he would make you see stars or something even better.

However, being pinned to the wall by both his hands around your neck, his thumbs pressing your larynx threateningly and making you physically choke in pain was not it. His eyes bore into yours, dripping with venom and you tried smacking his hands away but it didn’t work.

“Did you do it?”

You stopped struggling for a moment, confused, before your features softened. Hongjoong watched with a frown but when he heard your raspy chuckle, he gave you a warning look but your laugh only got louder, making you cough because of his hold on your neck.

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty.”

It had been only a few days since the Duke’s execution. The King was having a hard time coming to terms with his brother’s blood on his hands. He may have bought your lies when you insisted that the Duke had a hand in the late King’s death, but he must have been suspecting tampering of evidence or something worse since he actually got out of his room and went to the private library to conduct his own investigation.

You had luckily lowered the ruby dosage to the minimum and the King was aware that you couldn’t have replaced it with something right away- it might have caused some side-effects. While the King did not suspect you, only commending you for caring about his health, his son received the scepticism in your stead. The King was beginning to feel more wary of Hongjoong and it was becoming obvious to everyone around them. It didn’t help that Hongjoong was doing absolutely nothing to help his case. 

You had successfully completed the first part of your mission, but there was no word from the Master. Had bluebirds abandoned you? All you needed was a signal to proceed with the rest of the plan. Could it be that they somehow peeked inside your heart and discovered the true motives behind why you were cooperating with them? 

You were anxious, and that was not good. It didn’t help that the Prince was incredibly busy now that Prince Woobin’s post as the Duke of Neverland was empty. The Duke of Mist had just negotiated for his life and the King had stopped Hongjoong from taking any further steps related to that matter for the time being. It was getting messier and you were realising that the Prince’s besetting sin might be his emotions and unquenchable thirst for more. While he was fully capable of making rational decisions and was doing his best to appear innocent, he could not hide how much fun he was having handling the matters that were once handled by the late Duke.

And the King may be old and ill, but he was not blind. He suspected Hongjoong, and while he was not stupid, he was too trusting of those around him and that led him to ask you what you thought about the situation. You were thrown off by the question.

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake. It’s weighing on my heart and it will take my life sooner than expected.”

“But why do you feel so?” You asked. “I know that the registers were not substantial evidence but the circumstances…”

“I know,” he nodded. “It seems odd that the royal physician was aware of ruby’s role in my father’s death yet remained shut. I wonder why. Could he have a hand in wrongly accusing Woobin?”

It was then that you realised- Prince Woobin’s physician might have been a member of the bluebirds too. That made more sense than the doctor knowing ruby’s effects and letting them slide when you consulted him for the King- no doctor’s moral code would allow that. 

“But if you think Prince Woobin was innocent and the doctor acted on his own, that would mean he’s serving someone else.”

“Yeah, well,” the King shrugged. “Wouldn’t put past my son to have a hand in it. He’s been far too giddy ever since he got that thorn out of his side.”

You stifled a smile at that. “Isn’t he simply carrying out his duties?”

“Yes, that’s true. But he doesn’t have to look happy about it, does he? Even if I’m wrong and he’s simply doing his job…” the King faltered, coughing violently and you passed him a handkerchief. He wiped his mouth, smearing the piece of cloth with blood. “I can only imagine how happy he will be when I finally die.”

“He’s still your son,” you chided gently. “You’re his father. You can confront him about this if it’s bothering you so much, Your Majesty. This is clearly taking a toll on your health- I should look for other drugs-”

“No,” the King shook his head. “No more drugs. That’s enough. My time is near and I should not run away.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you pleaded. “But you don’t have to be in pain as you walk towards your inevitable death. Painkillers?”

The King chuckled at that. “You’re a brilliant doctor, y/n. I hope Hongjoong takes good care of you after I’m gone.”

Somehow, that sentence stuck with you for all the reasons and more. The King was the one person who had treated you like an actual human despite his position of power and authority. You had always found yourself comparing him to the Master- another person with power and authority yet no regard for his subjects. While the King had always patted your shoulder with affection, the Master had only ever touched you with a stick- the marks of which you still bore on your skin. While the King always encouraged you to make leaps in the medicinal field and use him as your ‘test subject’ which was an inside joke amongst all the doctors in the castle now, the Master had only ever criticised you.

Would it be so bad if you let the King live? Or were you doing him a favour by killing him? He would die a painless death and wouldn’t witness the doom of his empire. One death had already cost him a great deal- he surely couldn’t take more. Hongjoong wanted him to live a little longer and hand him the crown with his own hands before he passed on, but no matter how much you tried to convince Hongjoong that the King couldn’t live long, his pride wouldn’t let him admit that the King would never willingly crown him. It was why he urged you to look after him as best as you could and why he was so enthusiastic with his work lately. He had something to prove now.

And it was why, ultimately, you decided to let the King rest. He did not need to dig any deeper and find out that his own son and his royal physician had orchestrated this plan. He did not need to be in agony anymore. You slipped the silver light in his medicine and he took it unsuspectingly. You squeezed his wrist in silent gratitude for all he had done for you- from his heart. And then you went to your room and waited to hear the news.

It was too bad that the Prince himself had to be the one who delivered the news to you- 

“Did you do it?”

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty,” you said, finally getting him to let go of your neck. You glared at him as you rubbed your neck in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation. “Didn’t think you’d be so ecstatic to hear that.”

Hongjoong stared at you, for the first time feeling something resembling fear in his heart- the future looked uncertain and for once, the look in your eyes made him shiver. Hongjoong was realising how perhaps he, too, was at your mercy. You wanted him to take over the throne so you sped up the process for him, getting rid of his uncles and now his father. All for what? For the throne that was his anyway? And you didn’t even want to be queen until he suggested it- just why-

“The King died of ‘grief’, but really, it’s the silver light’s doing,” you told him, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s too bad he couldn’t crown you with his own hands, but that’s okay. All that matters is that he’s gone and he didn’t discover the truth about your role in Prince Woobin’s death. We did it, Hongjoong. You did it.”

He did it. He trusted the wrong person and messed everything up. Sure, the fact that he was now the King made him ecstatic, but there was still something that bothered him-

And that was you.

You were unpredictable and dangerous. And he couldn’t have someone like that by his side in the long run. He could not continue dallying with you anymore.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urged him, planting soft kisses around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. “You don’t think I did something wrong, do you?”

“Of course not,” Hongjoong kissed your lips. “I just wanted to make sure if it really was you. Did I scare you?”

You shook your head despite the air being heavy with lies. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Hongjoong scoffed at that, looking down as he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief and pretending that your words did not feel like a stab in his back. “I’m just a little bummed that you didn’t tell me.”

“It was a… spur-of-the-moment decision,” you ran your hands across the silky material of his cream shirt. “But all’s well that ends well, isn’t that so?”

Hongjoong nodded. “They’ve taken him away- the funeral will be the day after tomorrow so Prince Woojin can attend.”

“Ah, he’s still here, huh?” You clicked your tongue. “Anything I can help with?”

“Oh, I’ve got that handled,” he assured you, caressing your cheek. “Now… can we stop talking and stop acting? Didn’t you say something about how you couldn’t wait until I got the title so you could say you fucked the King?”

You laughed at that, the two of you leaning in for a kiss that soon turned heated, resulting in discarded clothes on the floor. Hongjoong was rough with you tonight, feeling lightheaded with the weight of the new title on his head. It didn’t help that you kept teasing him, calling him the King or Your Majesty Hongjoong. Despite the gravity of the situation, it turned him on so damn much and he realised that he really was mad. But he couldn’t stop. 

He couldn’t stop until he fucked you hard, taking you from behind and making you become undone on his cock over and over again. He snaked his hand back on your neck as you reached your high, this time to crane your face towards him so he could see you. You locked eyes with him, his silver hair matted on his forehead and a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. This time, he choked you the proper way right when you came.

You actually saw stars this time. You didn’t mind that he treated you like a ragdoll tonight, probably pouring all his frustrations, grief and anxiety into you. You didn’t mind that he used you like a tool, spanking you whenever you so much as looked at him the wrong way and making you rock on his hips or fingers even though you were an oversensitive bundle of nerves. 

For tonight, you were his and he was yours. You had him wrapped around your fingers and even though he was the one who wielded power and dominance over you, it was ultimately you who moved his strings and controlled his actions. You could only wish that he would remain ignorant for as long as possible. After all, it would be too much of a shame if you couldn’t be like this for just a while.

Hongjoong stopped thrusting his cum inside you, resting his forehead against your bare shoulder and catching his breath, sliding out moments later and watching the leaking cum out of you with an amused look. You smacked his arm and he scooted away so you could bundle the sheets around yourself as you lay next to him, tangling your limbs.

“This is it,” you whispered, kissing his chest. “This is where you’re meant to be.”

Hongjoong kissed the top of your head in answer and you thought his touch felt distant and cold but your mind was too hazy to make sense of it.

For now, you were in the King’s arms. And you were already planning how to make it an everyday ritual.

—------------------------------

Today, the Master’s big plan for the Kingdom of Wonderland was finally going to come to an epic conclusion- Prince Hongjoong was going to get crowned king and he was finally going to ascend the throne. Granted, the path had been rocky and bloody but he finally made it. 

You would be his royal physician now, and no one else’s. And oh, the sight of the empty seat next to his that was once the queen’s was bubbling desire in you for something that was not- or should not be- yours. You were just a piece in the Master’s plan and you becoming the queen was not a part of his scheme.

But you were tired of obeying the faceless Master when there was no guarantee that you would live to see the next day- or even the next moment. The bluebirds were everywhere. They could end you just as easily as you had ended the King. They were cooks, soldiers, doctors, guards and assassins. They sat at every post in the castle and you wouldn’t be surprised if the Master was prowling somewhere around here- especially today. He had to be present to see the scheme of his forefathers about to conclude. 

And you were wondering if it would be too bad if you made some alterations to the Master’s plan. If he had one of the bluebirds sit on the throne, he wouldn’t need to end the monarchy to have the kingdom flourish, would he? He could just have them manipulate the royals and make a puppet out of Hongjoong. And it wouldn’t be too bad if you were the one who sat on the throne, right?

“We should do something about the queen’s empty throne, huh?” 

You almost jumped at the sudden intrusion, looking behind to see Hongjoong’s aide, Mingi, walking towards you to stand beside you. The Hall wasn’t empty but the workers had been silently making arrangements and you had just stopped on your way to your room to get a look at how the preparations were going. 

Mingi was dressed in his official uniform, a number of badges and emblems on the ruby red coat. He smiled at you, continuing. “You’re thinking the King would need someone by his side, aren’t you?”

“I was just reminiscing,” you lied smoothly. “It seems like just yesterday that the late King and Queen sat here proudly and the Hall was full of life.”

“Ah,” Mingi nodded in understanding. “It’s been… a bit sad afterwards, hasn’t it? The King… the grief really clung to him.”

“I sometimes wonder if there’s no cure for grief,” you sighed. “If the loss of his wife wasn’t enough-”

“His brothers,” Mingi nodded. “It’s truly a shame. Prince Woojin has arrived for the coronation but he isn’t too pleased to be here.”

“He’s going to get exiled from his homeland, so I can understand why,” you said and he agreed. The two of you looked at the empty seats for a while before you said you had to get ready for the event and you parted ways. You went to your room to change into a ruby red gown, wearing the earrings Hongjoong had gifted you and tying your hair back. And right after, you went to sit by the window to take a breather.

The sky was clear today, and you wished Hongjoong’s intentions would be too. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss from the night that he pounced on you, suspecting that you killed the King. Yes, you had without letting him know beforehand, but he knew this was inevitable. And you had done him a favour because the King was almost on to him, but Hongjoong just had to be an ungrateful fool. It truly was a shame.

A knock sounded on the door and you opened it to reveal one of Hongjoong’s guards, asking you to accompany him to the royal chambers. You got worried for a moment, wondering if there was a medical emergency but the guard assured you that the Crown Prince just needed to talk to you about something so you followed without the medical kit. Mingi let you in and left, saying he had some matters to attend to. You looked around, finding the chambers awfully empty now that the King was gone and none of his staff was present. You knocked on Hongjoong’s room and he hummed in answer so you let yourself in.

“I see you’re already struggling with the burden of being the King,” you commented, watching him struggle with the robe unceremoniously. “Where’re your maids?”

“I don’t like being dressed by them,” he muttered. “Help me?”

You softly chuckled, standing in front of him between the mirror to fasten the clips to his jacket and then you straightened his clothes. “You only like my hands on you, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong smirked, watching you with a fondness that made you question if you had been wrong to suspect him. “I just wanted to see you before the coronation.”

“Someone’s finally feeling emotional, huh?” You teased and he laughed at that, resting his hands on your hips. “How does it feel to finally be the King of Wonderland, Your Majesty?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” he raised a brow but you tsk-ed.

“That’s just formality, the event. You are the King. And I’m glad to be here with you right now,” you told him- you really were happy for him, from the bottom of your heart. “All those library sessions finally earned us the crown.”

Hongjoong nodded, not commenting on how you used the term ‘us’. As if the crown belonged to you too. He supposed you had the right to feel like that after being his sword and his shield. 

“Can you come see me after the coronation, in the music room?” Hongjoong asked, gently cupping your face with one hand. “I’d like to give you something.”

“Really?” You asked, searching his eyes for an answer but finding nothing. You felt your heart thump with excitement at the prospect of what this could entail. The silly voice in your head told you that maybe he really was going to crown you or at least make a promise.

“Okay,” you nodded, kissing his palm. “I’ll be there.”

Hongjoong smiled at that and leaned in to kiss you, deep and passionate like none of the kisses you had ever received from him before. Your back arched as you wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, his arm around your back bringing you closer. You kissed for a long time before he broke apart and you laughed a little, telling him that you should be going to mark your attendance at the Hall. Hongjoong let you go with a final kiss to the top of your head, promising to see you later.

You had to admit that you were confused by the sudden change in his behaviour, but maybe he had been a bit cold towards you for the past couple of days because of the stress. The Prince had always been a moody man but that didn’t mean that you weren’t hyper-aware of everything he said to you or the way he acted towards you ever since you got rid of the King. If there was one thing you had realised the past few months, it was that you were on your own. The Master wasn’t going to take care of you or protect you if you messed up. The Prince would always protect his crown first before and he would gladly frame you if he ever felt threatened. You were aware of that, and as much as you desired the Crown Prince, his power, and perhaps, the seat next to his, you weren’t going to be unprepared.

When you went to the Hall, you were greeted by many. You had been the King’s royal physician and his confidante of sorts, especially after his aide retired. Tonight, you were going to honour him by lighting the torch that marked the King’s absence before the coronation would begin. The late Queen’s torch would be lit by Prince Woojin, the Duke of Mist Island.

There was a murmur spreading throughout the Hall as Prince Woojin entered, clad not in the official red but black- for mourning. He hadn’t been staying at the castle ever since he arrived for the Duke’s execution and just when he was about to leave the Capital, he heard the news of the King and came to attend the funeral, extending his stay a few more days as per Hongjoong’s request. He joined you at the front row, a few empty seats away from you but you got up and greeted him, just like you would have greeted the late King.

“Have you been well?” Prince Woojin asked. “I heard that you were quite close to my brother.”

You sighed deeply. “I’m alright, thank you for asking. I hope you’ve been well too.”

Prince Woojin shrugged in answer. As the youngest of the three, he was quite the oddball of the family, lacking any desire for the throne since the beginning and keeping to governing the northern region of Wonderland where the islands were located, collectively referred to as the Mist Islands. Unlike the other Duke, he never argued about the policies either, only following the late King’s orders. You supposed there were people in this world who weren’t born with the innate desire for power after all. Prince Woojin was a living example of that.

“Do you think I should start packing up after the coronation?” Prince Woojin asked, surprising you. “I’ve heard rumours that I’m going to be exiled. As if living on Mist Islands isn’t an exile itself.” 

You frowned- you weren’t surprised that he had heard that, but why did he ask you? Was this just small talk or was he on to something? “Did you never want to rule the islands, Your Highness?”

“It’s not that,” he chuckled. “But it’s quite a trip from here, isn’t it? I just wish I had seen my brother more often when he was alive.”

“Well… Prince Woobin did,” you shrugged, and Prince Woojin heard the rest of the sentence even though you didn’t say it out loud. Look where that got him.

“For a long time, I’ve thought that whoever sets their eyes on the throne is doomed,” Prince Woojin said and you listened to his words carefully. “For a while now, the position has birthed tragic endings. Woobin’s death has only strengthened my belief. Even if I was offered the position, I wouldn’t take it.”

You made an impressed face, nodding at the man who looked older than his brothers despite being in his late forties. “You’re very wise, Prince Woojin-”

“Do you covet the throne, my dear?” Prince Woojin looked at you and your mouth parted in surprise at his observation- or guess. Whatever it was. 

“I… don’t, really,” you admitted, looking towards the empty seats. “I guess I covet power and control. For at least once in my life, I would like to be free to make my own decisions and have no one influence my path.”

“Let me tell you something,” he leaned towards you, just as the doors opened revealing the Crown Prince. “You don’t need to sit there to have power or control over your life. That is a cage that looks like salvation, and once you take the crown, there’s no going back. You’re trapped until death. You’ll be controlled by forces you can’t even see. At least right now, you’ll have what? One? Two people influencing your life?”

You glanced at Hongjoong who narrowed his eyes when he saw the two of you conversing. Turning your attention to the Duke, you nodded. “You’re right. It really is a cage, isn’t it?”

Prince Woojin smiled, slumping back and nodding. He looked at where his nephew was, who was being marched towards the throne with Mingi by his side. You and Prince Woojin stood up and the rest followed. You went towards the torches in the middle of the room, standing in front of each other. One of the servants brought a candle to you and you lit the King’s torch first, locking eyes with Prince Woojin. He smiled at you, taking the candle from your hand before lighting the Queen’s torch. After the fire from them rose to a certain height, you both turned towards Hongjoong who was waiting for the signal at the end of the room. He bowed back and turned to receive the crown.

“The lone survivor,” Prince Woojin commented. “For how long, I wonder.”

Your heart sank at his words and you slowly turned to face him. It couldn’t be, could it? Prince Woojin only smiled knowingly at you and then applause sounded across the room, with a chorus of ‘Long Live His Majesty King Hongjoong!’ sounding across the room. While he looked magnificent in the crown, you were left pondering over the Duke’s question.

For how long?

When things got a bit busy, you made one last attempt to tie your fate to Hongjoong’s. You went to your room and wrote a letter, tucking it under the bed like you always did. And then you went to the music room to wait for the new king. You were starting to feel a sense of finality washing over you and to cope with what was surely coming, you started to press your fingers to the piano, the movements feeling foreign but strangely intimate- as if the notes meant to comfort you and pass you silent assurances.

You supposed that was the reason why, when the King finally entered the room with a guarded look on his face and two soldiers by his side, you weren’t surprised. You only scoffed in mock amusement, shaking your head.

“Doctor y/n, royal physician to the late King,” King Hongjoong announced. “You are under arrest for the murder of the late King.”

You let out a short laugh which soon turned maniacal and Hongjoong signalled the guards to give you both some privacy. They went to stand outside the room though the door was kept open.

“You’ll regret this, oh, you will,” you said when you finally got up, taking off the ruby earrings. “This will be the moment you will look back to soon.”

Hongjoong only smiled in answer. “You’re a threat to me as you were to the King. I can’t have you prowling around, you must understand.”

“Of course,” you walked to him and took his hand, slamming the earrings on his palm and curling his fingers over it. “The crown suits you, Hongjoong. Make the most of it while you can.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He raised a brow. 

You smiled, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, making him freeze. You kissed his cheek before drawing away, getting one good look at all that glory, memorising the face of the person you had crowned, the eyes that had betrayed you long ago, the lips that had always served as a distraction to make you blind to what had been brewing in his mind all along, and then at his hands that had led you to your doom. Before he could stop you, you walked past him and surrendered yourselves to the soldier, mockingly bowing at him.

Even though you could taste your tears, your lips were curved in a smile. You may have doomed yourself but-

You would not be alone. 

You had tied your fate to Hongjoong’s long ago. Your paths had been intertwined since the beginning and would remain so.

You had heard from the Master once- that it takes a monster to destroy another monster. Perhaps, you took his words literally- you became a monster just so you could take another down. You did not regret one bit of it.

—--------------------------

You had watched many executions take place in the square. You had watched the recent execution of the Duke beside Hongjoong.

However, you did not imagine you would be watching the very empty throne from the square, on your knees with your hands tied in front of you- still with Hongjoong beside you, in a similar state.

“Quite a view from up here, isn’t it?” You commented. “Bet the Duke was too infuriated to admire it when it was his time.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply, looking at the rope that was wound around his hands and then back at the throne that he had sat on for barely a day. He clicked his tongue in anger when he spotted Prince Woojin. He didn’t sit on the throne but went to stand at the edge to watch.

This time, the square was empty save for the two of you. No one needed to witness this ugly conclusion, you supposed. It was just a few officials from the castle and-

Mingi. Watching you from the shadows and motioning with his finger towards the opposite direction-

At Prince Woojin. You frowned in confusion but then he crossed his heart and then his wrist, and understanding washed over you. 

Mingi was a bluebird, and so was Prince Woojin. You realised then that your doom had been inevitable. You were meant to die with Hongjoong from the very beginning. Mingi had made sure that happened, and Prince Woojin, who had to be one of the masterminds, had tricked you into planting the letter under your bed. The letter confirmed that Hongjoong had ordered you to kill the King and had fabricated the evidence to get the Duke executed for a crime he did not commit. That way, they had an official confession to get you both arrested and ready for trial. 

But… Prince Woojin had to be someone who worked closely with the Master who had trained you. The Master had to be present today- you looked around, finding some familiar faces but failing to recognise him.

“No one’s coming to save you, Princess,” Hongjoong scoffed and you raised a brow as you looked at him.

“Fuck you too, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong shook his head in amusement, looking at you with a strange expression- was that affection in his eyes? You frowned. “You don’t have to fake your feelings anymore. At least be true to me- to yourself- in your last moments.”

“No point wishing I could kill you with my own hands anymore when we’re both going to the same place,” Hongjoong said, his body shaking as he stifled a fit of laughter. You shook your head at that.

“Isn’t it funny?” You attempted to change the subject, wanting a distraction from the way your knees felt numb from kneeling for so long now. “We were doomed from the beginning, you and I. We were both pieces in a game that was being played by these people- the masterminds, from so long ago. Did they ever foresee this moment?”

“Pieces, you say?” Hongjoong asked, wondering who these masterminds were- had he lost the real game while he got high on what looked like a victory to him? “Were you a spy?”

“A bluebird,” you confessed with a short laugh as tears pricked the corner of your eyes. “They’re everywhere, Hongjoong. They’re watching us right now.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he took a look around, finding all the eyes present trained on him. All his life, he had felt like he did not truly belong in the castle but never once had he felt it with this magnitude. He felt like an imposter in his own home.

“So this was all a part of your plan?” Hongjoong asked. His words carried no bitterness or disdain. He simply wanted answers.

“It wasn’t,” you shook your head. “At least, not this,” you raised your tied hands in the air and looked at him. “I really wanted you to rule, Hongjoong. Even if it was just for a day.”

“Well, you got what you wanted-”

“That was what they wanted,” you continued. “I tried to find a way out of this, but you have to understand that I was trapped. By them. By you. I told you that I would make sure to undo everything and sit next to you when you got me arrested, but… the bluebirds got us. I didn’t think I’d sit next to you in the square.”

The rays of the sun were starting to peek from behind the arched roof of the elevation where Prince Woojin stood watching you both. You shut your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin. You were going to be cold for an eternity now.

“Feel that, Hongjoong?” You asked, unmoving. “Another thing we took for granted.”

“The sun?” 

“This warmth,” you looked at him, spotting the grim face of the executioners making their way from the other end of the square, the soldiers and court members taking their respective positions. “Did you ever take your time to feel it? Did you ever feel something similar?”

“I wasn’t always a cold, calculating bastard,” Hongjoong chuckled, glad you were talking to him right now. He somehow felt lighter. “I felt warmth in my mother’s arms.”

“I didn’t,” you told him and he looked at you but there was no pity in his eyes, only understanding. “I felt warmth when the King talked to me like I was his daughter.”

Hongjoong smiled at that, looking at his tied hands. The executioners paused when they saw that emotion on his King’s face, allowing just another moment. You looked back at Hongjoong, strands of silver hair covering his glazed eyes.

“Did you ever love me?” 

Hongjoong’s smile only deepened at that. “Did you?”

“Maybe I did,” you cocked your head, waiting for an answer.

“Maybe I did too,” he raised a brow. “We must have been lovers in our past life.”

“Or maybe we were enemies, and this was my twisted attempt at redemption,” you said and he chuckled. “Maybe we’ll actually do ourselves justice in the next life. If there is one.”

“Death won’t do us part,” he said and you finally let the tears fall even though your heart warmed at his words.

The executioners appeared in front of you, their swords gleaming and ready by their side. Hongjoong had personally requested execution by the sword instead of the guillotine though he never mentioned his reasons for this choice. He raised his tied hands in the air and the executioner looked towards Prince Woojin for confirmation. You narrowed your eyes at the Prince, wondering if he would take the throne or demolish the monarchical system but your thoughts got interrupted when you found your executioner untying the ropes around your hands as well. 

Confused, you looked at Hongjoong who extended his hand, prompting you to take it. You intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing them. He held your hand with considerable strength as if he meant to convey his fear for what was ahead but assure you that he was here, with you. 

“Death won’t do us part,” he promised and shut his eyes. 

You shut your eyes with a smile, thankful for his promise. Maybe in the next life, you would meet again under better circumstances, unburdened by lies and guilt, greed and lust. For the first time, you saw something other than red.

You saw silver- muted but warm, like Hongjoong’s hair. Bright and glaring like the colour of the drug, silver light, that doomed you. Distant and beautiful like the stars you saw at night while you rested in Hongjoong’s arms. Twinkling and intoxicating like the stars Hongjoong made you see when he made love to you.

You saw silver- glorious and absolute like the sword that painted you both red.

[lanadelspray02]

HOLD ME ANYWAY: CHAPTER 17

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

Hey guys, this chapter is quite long, so just warning y'all now. I lowkey gave up editing towards the end because I was over it, but I did say I would post tomorrow morning, so that's what I'm gonna do. Let me know your thoughts, give me your reactions, and ideas for future chapters. Thank you for showing love and, I appreciate every single one of you. Enjoy <3

crossposted ao3 here

masterlist here

wc: 15,039

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The sky was soft and overcast as Azzi knelt in front of Ruby by the front door, gently adjusting the tiny hood of her daughter’s jacket for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Ruby squirmed impatiently, clutching Sparklehorn under one arm, eyes bright with barely-contained excitement. Azzi tugged the drawstrings carefully until they framed Ruby’s face like cosy earmuffs, and as she straightened up, her daughter looked up at her with a grin so radiant it was contagious.

"We get Paigey's shirt now, Mama?" Ruby asked eagerly, her little sneakers lighting up softly with each excited bounce.

Azzi smiled warmly down at her, feeling a fluttering warmth in her chest as she nodded. "We sure do, baby. But remember" Azzi put a finger to her lips, lowering her voice playfully, "it's a secret mission. Gotta stay sneaky."

Ruby’s eyes widened dramatically, and she quickly mimicked the gesture, whispering back, "Sneaky like spy."

Downtown Storrs had that gentle, early Monday morning quiet, sidewalks damp from overnight rain, a faint aroma of fresh espresso drifting from the nearby café, and the shops just starting to flicker to life. Nika was already waiting for them by the corner, hands buried deep in the pockets of her oversized UConn hoodie, a familiar teasing smile curving at the corners of her lips.

"Morning, super spies," she greeted quietly, crouching down to bump fists gently with Ruby, who responded with utmost seriousness.

"You ready for this mission, Roo?"

Ruby nodded earnestly, hugging Sparklehorn a little tighter. "We gonna be so sneaky," she whispered conspiratorially.

Azzi chuckled softly as the three of them started walking toward the UConn campus store, her heart feeling simultaneously heavy and buoyant. This wasn’t just buying a jersey; it was another step toward intertwining the pieces of her life, the carefully protected space she’d built around Ruby, and the new, warm place Paige had carved into their world.

Inside the campus store, a quiet hum of background music blended gently with the faint shuffle of early-morning shoppers. Azzi guided Ruby straight toward the youth apparel section, where miniature jerseys hung neatly arranged in perfect rows. Ruby gasped softly, eyes fixating on the display.

"There she is, Mama," Ruby whispered, voice reverent and sweetly awed as she pointed toward a tiny navy-blue jersey with Paige’s number 5 boldly printed in crisp white.

Azzi crouched down beside Ruby, carefully pulling the jersey from the rack and holding it gently against Ruby's chest, heart swelling softly at the sight.

"Perfect fit," Nika confirmed warmly, eyes sparkling with gentle amusement.

Ruby looked down at the jersey, small fingers tracing the bright number five carefully, before glancing up at Azzi again, seeking reassurance.

"Paigey gonna love it, Mama?"

Azzi smiled softly, cupping Ruby’s cheek tenderly. "She's gonna absolutely love it."

At the checkout counter, Azzi felt a brief flicker of nervousness when a student employee glanced curiously between Ruby and her, clearly recognising Azzi but too polite to comment. Nika smoothly handled the small talk, asking casual questions about upcoming events and distracting the cashier as Azzi paid quickly in cash, grateful for her friend's subtle support.

When they stepped back outside, Ruby insisted on proudly carrying the small UConn-branded bag herself, holding it carefully like the precious treasure it was. "It got Paigey’s number," Ruby announced brightly, swinging the bag gently as she walked, sneakers blinking cheerfully with each step.

Azzi reached down and squeezed Ruby’s free hand gently, her chest aching softly with love and a quiet, cautious pride.

As they made their way down the street, Azzi's gaze drifted to the nearby art store, its colourful window displays brimming with craft supplies that practically shouted Ruby’s name. She glanced at Ruby thoughtfully, an idea already taking shape.

"You wanna make Paigey something special, Roo? Maybe a sign and a picture for her birthday?"

Ruby’s face lit up immediately, her steps quickening excitedly as she tugged Azzi forward. "Yes! We gotta get glitter, Mama!"

Azzi laughed gently, catching Nika’s amused glance before nodding in agreement. "Of course, baby. All the glitter."

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

The art store was exactly the kind of shop Ruby dreamed about—walls lined with vibrant shelves filled with every shade of paint imaginable, glitter tubes sparkling beneath the lights, and stacks of paper in colours Azzi couldn’t even name. Ruby paused just inside the doorway, eyes wide with awe like she’d stepped into a magical kingdom.

“Wow, Mama,” she whispered, clutching Sparklehorn tight to her chest as she spun slowly, taking it all in.

Azzi gently brushed a loose curl behind Ruby’s ear, smiling at her daughter’s wonder. “You can pick whatever you need, Roo. Today’s mission is making Paigey’s birthday special, yeah?”

Ruby nodded hard, eyes shining. “Uh-huh! Paigey need lotsa colours. And glitter. And sparkles.”

Azzi laughed as Ruby hurried to the crayon aisle, her little fingers reaching for the biggest box she could lift. “Dis one got all the colours!” Ruby said proudly, hugging it close as she turned to Azzi and Nika. Her small face was very serious. “Paigey need da best ones.”

Nika crouched down beside her, grinning. “Hmm, you sure there’s enough glitter in there for Paigey?”

Ruby blinked, thinking hard. Then she grabbed a big pack of glitter glue and plopped it on top. “Now it’s sparkly,” she said with a firm nod.

Nika glanced up at Azzi with a chuckle. “You’re raising a perfectionist.”

Azzi just smiled, eyes soft. “She knows what she likes.”

They made their way slowly through the shop, Ruby picking out stickers shaped like stars, hearts, and basketballs, and then adding a packet of rainbow markers that she declared were “for sign stuff.” She held one marker up and whispered, “Dis one’s purple. Paigey like purple.”

Finally, she stopped in front of a shelf filled with picture frames, staring quietly. Azzi knelt beside her, hand gentle on her back. “What are you thinkin’, Roo?”

Ruby didn’t speak at first, just bit her lip in concentration. Then she picked up a little heart-shaped frame and a bigger wooden one. “Tiny one for Paigey’s room,” she said slowly, lifting them both. “Big one for big picsha.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the sweetness of it. “Perfect choice, baby,” she murmured, kissing the top of Ruby’s head.

As they approached the checkout, Nika checked her phone and sighed. “Gotta head to class,” she said, crouching again to gently tap Ruby’s cheek. “You okay finishin’ the mission without me, Roo?”

Ruby nodded seriously, hugging Sparklehorn. “I do it. Promise.”

Nika stood with a warm smile and bumped Azzi’s shoulder. “Good luck, mama bear.”

Azzi grinned, nudging her back. “Thanks for the backup.”

“Anytime. Can’t wait to see Paige’s face,” Nika called as she walked backwards toward the door, then slipped out with a wink.

Azzi and Ruby finished at the checkout, Azzi taking the heavy bags while Ruby proudly held the two picture frames all by herself. When they stepped outside, sunlight peeked through the clouds and Ruby looked up eagerly.

“We goin’ home now, Mama?”

Azzi shook her head, smiling as she gently squeezed Ruby’s hand. “Not yet, bub. One more stop, real special. Mama needs help pickin’ something for Paigey.”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “More presents?”

Azzi laughed softly. “Just one more. Somethin’ really special.”

Ruby nodded hard, skipping beside her. “Kay, Mama. We pick da best one.”

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

The jewellery store was quiet and softly lit, the faint chime of a bell signalling their entry as Azzi gently ushered Ruby inside. Glass display cases sparkled beneath warm overhead lights, delicate necklaces and shining bracelets arranged neatly like treasures. Ruby paused just inside the doorway, clutching Sparklehorn close, eyes wide with cautious wonder as she looked around.

“Mama,” she whispered carefully, voice hushed in the fancy quiet of the shop, “it’s really shiny in here.”

Azzi smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leading her slowly toward the display of rings. “It is a little fancy,” she agreed softly, her eyes warm. “But we’re gonna find something special for Paigey, remember?”

Ruby nodded seriously, already peering through the glass with focused curiosity.

The shopkeeper, a kind-looking older woman with silver hair neatly pinned back, approached them with a gentle smile, clearly delighted by the little girl’s intent expression. “Is there something special you’re looking for today?” she asked kindly, meeting Azzi’s eyes with quiet interest.

Azzi returned the smile. “We’re after a ring. Something simple but special—engraved, if that’s possible.”

Ruby stood on her tiptoes, voice small but firm. “It for Paigey. Her birfday.”

The shopkeeper chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling. “Ah, a birthday gift, how lovely. And who’s Paigey, sweetheart?”

Ruby hugged Sparklehorn tight against her chest and offered a shy smile. “Mama’s bestest friend. She loves us lots and lots.”

Azzi felt warmth bloom in her chest at Ruby’s words, gently running a hand over her curls. She met the woman’s gaze. “Something simple. Maybe silver. And engraved with initials P, R, A.”

The woman nodded thoughtfully. “I think I’ve got something perfect.”

She returned moments later with a delicate silver band, the light catching across the smooth metal as she laid it gently on the velvet display. Azzi picked it up carefully, the ring warm and meaningful in her hand, quietly beautiful in its simplicity.

Ruby leaned in eagerly, brushing a small finger along the edge. “It pretty, Mama,” she said softly, her eyes wide.

Azzi smiled, heart tightening. “I think so too, Roo. Think Paigey’s gonna like it?”

Ruby nodded fast, serious as ever. “Uh-huh. She love it.”

She turned earnestly to the shopkeeper. “Can you put da letters on it for Paigey, please?”

The woman smiled, clearly charmed. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll make it beautiful.”

While the engraving was done, Ruby sat on Azzi’s lap, her legs swinging gently as she whispered updates to Sparklehorn in a quiet, secret tone. Azzi smoothed her hand over Ruby’s hair, watching her with quiet affection. The ring wasn’t just a gift, it felt like a quiet promise, something steady and permanent in a life that had changed so much.

When the shopkeeper returned, she placed the ring gently in Azzi’s hand again. The silver glinted softly, now engraved with three small letters: P R A.

Ruby leaned close, inspecting it closely. “Look, Mama!” she whispered proudly. “It say us!”

Azzi felt her throat tighten, her heart soft and full. She kissed Ruby’s temple gently. “It does, baby. It’s all of us.”

As Azzi paid, carefully tucking the velvet box into her coat pocket, the shopkeeper gave Ruby a kind smile. “Paigey’s very lucky to have you two,” she said gently.

Ruby smiled, lifting Sparklehorn’s hoof in a shy little wave. “We lucky too,” she murmured, curling into Azzi’s side.

Azzi wrapped her arm around her daughter, feeling a quiet swell of gratitude. As they stepped back into the soft afternoon light, she reached down and took Ruby’s hand. “Ready to head home, Roo?”

Ruby nodded fast, skipping alongside her with a bounce in every step. “Paigey gonna have da best birfday ever, Mama.”

Azzi smiled, gently squeezing her hand again. “She definitely is, baby.”

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

By the time they got home, the sky had cleared into a soft, pale blue and the house smelled faintly of roasted garlic and something warm baking in the oven. Azzi unlocked the door with her hip while balancing the art supplies, and Ruby charged ahead with her frames clutched tightly in both arms, announcing their return with all the confidence of a toddler on a mission.

“We home! We got da sparkles!”

Katie popped her head out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Welcome back, sparkles. Did you buy out the whole shop?”

Ruby nodded very seriously, holding up her frames like trophies. “One for Paigey’s room. One for big picsha. We got crayons too!”

Tim appeared behind Katie, raising an eyebrow at the bags Azzi dropped on the bench. “You planning a parade or an art gallery?”

Azzi laughed, brushing curls from her face as she helped Ruby out of her jacket. “Bit of both, probably. Ruby’s making her sign tomorrow with Caroline and Ines. And she’s drawing a picture for Paige. It’s kind of a whole thing.” Her tone stayed light, but her eyes lingered on the window a moment longer than they needed to, something unspoken simmering beneath her calm.

Katie caught it straight away. “You okay?”

Azzi hesitated for a beat, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. I just… can we talk? Just us for a minute?”

Tim smiled gently. “Of course. Ruby, want to help me sort the groceries?”

Ruby gasped dramatically like she'd just been promoted to secret agent. “Yes! I be da boss!” She grabbed Tim’s hand and followed him out of the kitchen, chattering about fruit and cake and birthday stuff.

Azzi leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes on the floor. Katie came to stand beside her but didn’t say anything, just waited.

After a long pause, Azzi finally spoke. “I didn’t expect it to get this far.”

Katie’s brow furrowed slightly. “With Paige?”

Azzi nodded, letting out a slow breath. “Not just us. With her and Ruby. It’s like… Paige just slotted into our world like she’d always been there. Ruby loves her. Like, really loves her. And I know Paige loves her too. And me. But now that it’s getting real, I—” She trailed off, chewing her lip. “I don’t want to hide anymore, Mum. Not Ruby. Not what we are. But I also don’t want to open her up to being picked apart just because people wanna know who I’m dating. Or who Ruby is to Paige.”

Katie reached over and gently rested a hand on her daughter’s arm, voice low and sure. “You’re not wrong to worry. But you’re also not wrong to want to be seen. You’ve built something really good, Az. With Paige. With Ruby. And whatever the world says, this is real. That’s what matters.”

Azzi blinked, the pressure in her chest easing just a little. “It’s her birthday on Wednesday. And it’s game day, so everything’s gonna feel big already. But I want it to feel personal too. I’m surprising her in the morning. Going to her dorm. We’ll get ready together, and you and Dad’ll have Ruby dressed in her jersey and ready to go. I want Paige to look up into the crowd and see her. I want her to know this isn’t a secret. That she’s part of all this.”

Katie’s eyes filled, her voice soft. “She’ll know. She probably already does.”

Azzi leaned her elbows on the bench, her voice dropping quieter. “I got her a ring. Just a little one. Silver. It’s got our initials—P, R, A.”

Katie exhaled slowly, visibly moved. “Azzi…”

“It’s not a proposal,” Azzi said quickly, shaking her head. “Just… a promise. From us. Me and Ruby. That she’s ours. And we’re hers too.”

Tim returned just then, carrying Ruby in one arm like a sack of potatoes while she squealed with laughter.

“You two conspiring over there?”

Azzi turned, smiling. “Kind of.”

Tim set Ruby down and Katie scooped her up for a kiss on the cheek. “We’ve been briefed,” she said, grinning. “Birthday surprise, game-day mission, family dinner after.”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking… something simple. Doesn’t need to be fancy. Just the five of us. I want her to feel like this is home.”

Tim rubbed his chin. “Pizza place with dessert?”

“Ruby said there has to be cake,” Azzi added, smiling.

Ruby gasped, eyes wide. “Candle cake!”

Katie laughed. “I’ll call around, see where we can book.”

Azzi took a deep breath, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks. I’ll tell her about dinner after the game. After she sees Ruby in the crowd.”

Tim stepped forward, gentle as he placed a hand on Azzi’s shoulder. “You’re doing a good job, Azzi. With all of it. Don’t forget that.”

Azzi blinked quickly, her throat tight. “Thanks, Dad.”

Katie squeezed her other arm. “Now go rest. You’ve got a big few days ahead.”

Azzi glanced over at Ruby, who was now spinning in a circle with Sparklehorn in one hand, giggling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I really do.”

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

Tuesday afternoon settled gently over the house, the sun casting soft golden streaks through the living room windows as Caroline and Ines arrived, arms full of snacks, even more craft supplies, and one oversized bottle of glitter Azzi definitely hadn’t asked for. Ruby stood at the centre of it all, barefoot on the rug with her curls pulled into two messy puffs, already directing traffic like a tiny general.

“We makin’ da sign first!” she declared, pointing to the table like a coach calling plays. “Then da picsha for Paigey!”

Caroline placed a hand over her heart. “Yes, ma’am. Right to business.” She dropped the confetti bag onto the table and crouched beside Ruby. “So what’s the vision? Talk me through it.”

Ruby pointed solemnly to the big poster board Azzi had laid out earlier. “It gonna say ‘GO PAIGEY!’ Wif sparkles. And rainbows. And a unicorn dunkin’ a ball.”

Ines plopped onto the floor beside them, already unzipping a pouch of markers. “That’s ambitious. How many sparkles are we talking?”

“All of dem,” Ruby replied straight away. “She need da sparkliest sign.”

Azzi hovered nearby, sipping tea and watching the glittery chaos with quiet fondness. Caroline and Ines moved around Ruby like seasoned pros, letting her take the lead, asking questions, offering help without taking over. Ines even let Ruby draw on her arm when she spilled glitter glue, and Caroline kept breaking off bits of chocolate pretzels and feeding them to Ruby like she was royalty.

They worked in joyful, messy disorder for almost an hour. Ruby narrated everything she did, pausing after each scribble to explain. “Dis Paigey jumpin’. Dis me cheerin’. Dis Sparklehorn flyin’ in da sky wif a cape.”

Ines nodded seriously. “Naturally. All good game signs need a flying unicorn.”

“She’s our secret weapon,” Caroline added with a wink.

When the sign was finally declared finished; big, bold letters reading GO PAIGEY! with wonky stars, basketballs, and two rainbows across the top, Ruby stood on her chair to admire it.

“She gonna see it and be so happy,” she whispered, not to anyone in particular, just to herself and Sparklehorn.

Azzi walked over and kissed the top of her head. “She will be, baby. She’ll love it.”

Ines and Caroline helped her place the sign gently on the counter to dry, then started packing up the supplies.

“You’re raising an art director,” Ines said, rolling up a tube of sparkly stickers. “She’s got more vision than anyone in my film class.”

Caroline stood up and brushed glitter off her jeans. “Alright, we better get going before we’re late for dinner.”

Ines stretched with a groan, holding up the finished sign proudly. “Masterpiece complete. Paige better cry when she sees this.”

Azzi laughed. “She just might.”

Ruby clutched the edge of the sign like it was gold. “Fank you!” she said seriously, then added, “Bye-bye! Don’t tell Paigey nuffin’!”

Caroline grinned as she grabbed her bag. “Our lips are sealed, Roo.”

“See you at the game,” Ines added, waving as they stepped out.

“Thanks again, guys,” Azzi said warmly, walking them to the door. “You’re the best.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and the apartment felt quieter, but charged like everything that mattered was still to come.

When the house was quiet again, Azzi washed her hands, checked the glue on the sign, then returned to Ruby at the kitchen table. The wooden frame and a fresh sheet of white paper were already waiting.

Azzi crouched beside her, wiping a patch of glitter off her cheek. “Alright, baby,” she said gently, pulling the paper forward. “Ready to make your special picture for Paigey?”

Ruby nodded, legs swinging, tongue poking out as she grabbed a purple crayon. “Dis one for her pants,” she said carefully, then glanced up. “Paigey like purple?”

Azzi smiled softly. “She likes whatever you give her.”

Satisfied, Ruby got to work, drawing wobbly stick figures with careful little hands, curly hair on one, long legs on another, and huge shoes on the littlest figure in the middle. Sparklehorn sat beside the paper like a sparkly assistant.

Azzi stayed mostly quiet, just helping when asked, handing over markers, unscrewing lids but letting Ruby lead.

“Dis me,” Ruby announced proudly, pointing to the figure in the centre. “Wif magic shoes.”

“You definitely got magic shoes,” Azzi said, smoothing her curls.

“Dat Mama,” Ruby added, “and dat Paigey. She da tallest.”

Azzi chuckled. “Of course she is.”

Ruby drew a basketball in everyone’s hand, a big yellow sun in the corner, and what looked like a rainbow above Sparklehorn. Then she put the crayon down, stared at the page a second, and picked up a pink marker. Carefully, she wrote with assistance from Azzi of course: From Ruby. To Paigey.

Azzi pressed a hand to her chest, heart full, before reaching for the frame. “Okay, baby,” she said quietly, “let’s get it wrapped.”

They worked together in the warm afternoon light, Azzi cutting the wrapping paper while Ruby held the tape, her little fingers sticking it everywhere except the right places. Eventually, they got it done, and Ruby carefully placed a glittery unicorn sticker in the top corner, right above the bow.

“All done,” Ruby whispered, both hands pressed to the gift. “She gonna keep it forever.”

Azzi rested her chin against Ruby’s temple. “Yeah, baby. I think she will.”

Outside, the sun was dipping low, casting a golden haze across the kitchen. Azzi glanced at the clock, almost time for their nightly FaceTime. She stood, brushing glitter and crayon crumbs from Ruby’s lap.

“Let’s have dinner and clean up before we call Paigey, yeah?”

Ruby nodded and hopped off the chair, Sparklehorn tucked under one arm as she toddled off to the bathroom.

Azzi lingered a moment, brushing her fingers across the bow. She could already see Paige opening the gift, eyes wide, lips parted, that soft look she always had when Ruby surprised her. A look Azzi never got tired of earning.

She turned off the living room light, leaving the gift beside the sign, and followed Ruby’s voice echoing from down the hall.

Tomorrow would be a big day. But tonight still belonged to just them.

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

Ruby was curled up under Azzi’s arm, cheeks still warm from the bath, curls fluffed into puffs and already starting to flatten where she leaned against her mother’s chest. She clutched Sparklehorn tight, her little thumb hooked in the ribbon around the unicorn’s neck as Azzi pulled up the FaceTime screen. As soon as Paige’s name popped up, Ruby whispered a dramatic, “Hurry, Mama!” like the whole night hinged on this moment. When Paige’s face appeared, glowing in the soft light of her dorm, Ruby lit up.

“PAIGEY!” she squealed, nearly launching out of Azzi’s lap. “Hi hi hi hi hi!”

Paige grinned wide. “Hey superstar! You look cosy. Is that Sparklehorn?”

“She got a bath too,” Ruby said seriously. “She had glitter on her eye.”

“That’s a serious injury,” Paige replied with mock concern. “Did she recover?”

“She brave,” Ruby nodded. “She ready for da game.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Big plans tomorrow?”

Ruby froze, eyes darting to Azzi.

“Roo,” Azzi warned lightly, fighting a smile.

Ruby slammed Sparklehorn into the screen as a distraction. “We drawed stuff!”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “You drew... something you can’t tell me about?”

“NO,” Ruby said immediately. “I mean yes. I mean... it’s a secwet.”

Azzi kissed the top of her head. “You’re really holding it down under pressure.”

Ruby yawned but tried to fight it, blinking hard. “I not tired. I gotta tell Paigey she gonna win.”

Paige’s voice dropped into something softer, sweeter. “You think I’m gonna play good?”

“You gonna play so good,” Ruby said through a sleepy smile. “Cuz I’m wishin’ it. All night.”

Paige’s smile hitched just a little. “Then I won’t miss a single shot.”

Ruby whispered something into Sparklehorn’s ear, then tucked the unicorn under her chin and sighed. “Night Paigey. I love you.”

“I love you too, Rubes. Sweet dreams.”

Azzi stood and gently carried Ruby into her room, settling her into bed with practiced ease. She stayed a minute longer than usual, brushing back curls and whispering something into her daughter’s ear that made Ruby smile even in the dark.

By the time Azzi slipped back into her own bed and called Paige again, she was already grinning.

“Okay,” Paige said the second the screen lit up. “What the hell are you hiding?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, phone resting on her chest. “Wow. Not even a ‘hi?’”

“I knew something was up. That little traitor almost blew the whole thing.”

“She didn’t say anything,” Azzi said smugly.

“Yeah, because she got coached like an FBI informant.”

Azzi shrugged. “Can’t confirm or deny.”

Paige groaned, grabbing her pillow and yelling into it. “Azzi. I’m your girlfriend. You’re legally obligated to give me birthday intel.”

Azzi smirked. “Says who?”

“Says the Constitution. It’s emotional neglect.”

“You are so dramatic.”

“You love it.”

Azzi’s lips curved. “I really do.”

There was a pause where Paige stared at her, then slumped deeper into her sheets. “Fine. Whatever. Keep your glittery secrets. Just tell me one thing.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Depends.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Am I getting birthday sex or not?”

Azzi blinked, then bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” Paige said, pouting now. “I’m waking up alone, which is already tragic. I’m not getting pancakes, or a kiss, or a suspicious lack of clothing. So the least I deserve is the promise of birthday sex.”

Azzi leaned her chin into her hand, amused. “So needy.”

“I’m touch-deprived.”

“You saw me at training.”

“That doesn’t count. You were wearing pants.”

Azzi laughed, eyes flicking toward her blanket. “Tragic.”

“You could fix it,” Paige said, voice slipping into something lower. “Like, right now. You could show me what you’re wearing.”

“Nope.”

“Please?” Paige whined. “Give me something. A hint. A strap. A collarbone. I’m not asking for full frontal, just, like... shoulders.”

Azzi sighed dramatically, then tugged the collar of her hoodie just far enough to reveal one bare shoulder, skin golden in the lamplight. “Happy?”

Paige blinked. “Yes. But also no. That’s worse. Now I’m suffering.”

“You wanted a taste,” Azzi said, dragging her fingers lightly down her throat, just to mess with her.

Paige looked like she was short-circuiting. “I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. You’re mean and hot and emotionally withholding and I’m gonna cry.”

Azzi smiled lazily. “Poor soon to be birthday girl.”

Paige curled tighter into her pillow. “You know what I pictured?”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Waking up tomorrow. You in my bed. On top of me. Nothing but your hair falling over my face. And then... slowly... birthday sex.”

Azzi blinked. “Wow. You’ve really scripted this.”

“I have storyboards.”

“You’re deranged.”

“I’m desperate.”

Azzi shook her head, her voice soft now. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“No I’m not,” Paige pouted. “You’re not here, you won’t tell me what’s happening, and I’m going to bed horny and alone. On my birthday eve.”

“Dramatic,” Azzi murmured.

“Deprived,” Paige corrected.

Azzi tucked her cheek against her pillow, still grinning. “You’ll get your birthday kiss eventually.”

“That better be a euphemism.”

Azzi laughed into the fabric. “Goodnight, Bueckers.”

“No. You can’t just log off after all that. You said eventually.”

“Sleep.”

“You said ‘eventually.’”

Azzi looked directly into the screen. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

“Wait…what? What does that mean?”

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

“Azzi. Don’t—”

But the screen went black.

And Paige lay there, stunned, clutching her phone to her chest, already kicking herself for not setting an alarm even earlier—just in case.

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

The first thing Paige noticed wasn’t the sun, or the comfort of her sheets, or even the dull ache in her calves from yesterday’s drills. It was a scent. Familiar, warm, subtle. Vanilla and citrus — shampoo and something sweeter, something personal. Something that didn’t belong in her dorm.

The second thing she noticed was the stillness in the room. That kind of quiet that wasn’t empty, but full. Weighted. Alive.

And that’s when she opened her eyes.

Azzi was sitting on the edge of her bed. Cross-legged, barefoot, calm as anything. One of Paige’s old UConn sweatshirts hung off her frame, oversized, worn to softness, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her curls were scooped into a lazy bun, messy and perfect, wisps framing her cheekbones like she’d just woken up from the same dream Paige always had when she was alone. She held a steaming coffee cup in both hands, legs tucked neatly beneath her, her expression impossibly soft.

Paige blinked, once. Then again, slower.

Azzi smiled, a small, knowing curl at the corner of her mouth. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Before Paige could form a single word, Azzi leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t a quick kiss. It wasn’t casual. It was full, warm, and slow. A kiss that knew it had all the time in the world. One kiss melted into another, lips brushing, then pressing, then staying. Azzi’s hand came up to cradle Paige’s cheek, her thumb brushing the skin beneath her eye, and she kissed her again. And again. Like she’d been waiting to do this for hours. Like she’d missed her.

Paige melted immediately. She didn’t even pretend to resist.

Azzi pulled back just enough to smile against her mouth. “God, you’re cute when you’re confused.”

Paige groaned and flopped back against the pillow, one hand dragging down her face. “What is happening. I’m either dreaming, hallucinating, or I actually died.”

Azzi laughed, low and smug, and set the coffee down on the nightstand. “You died via drool, most likely. You had a little puddle situation going on.”

“No,” Paige whispered, already pulling the blanket over her face.

“Yup.”

“Why would you say that on my birthday?”

“Because it’s adorable.”

Paige peeked out from the doona, just her eyes visible. “You’re evil.”

Azzi just shrugged and leaned forward to kiss her again, right in the centre of her forehead this time. “And yet, here I am. Waking you up on your birthday with coffee, a kiss, and my hot ass in your sweatshirt.”

“You are so smug.”

“You’re so in love with me.”

Paige didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Not when Azzi was right here, not when her whole body was still humming from that kiss, not when her room smelled like her and the coffee was still warm and Azzi was looking at her like she was her favourite part of the whole damn year.

“I thought you said I’d see you at training,” Paige said eventually, sitting up slowly, one hand propping her against the headboard.

“I lied,” Azzi said, completely unrepentant. “I wanted to see you first.”

Paige’s heart squeezed. It was such a small thing, those words, but they landed big. Bigger than she could’ve anticipated. Azzi didn’t just want to be part of her birthday. She wanted to be the first part. The beginning. The thing Paige woke up to.

She swallowed. “You broke into my dorm.”

“You left your door unlocked.”

“That’s not an invitation.”

“For me, it is.”

Paige stared at her for a long moment, letting it settle in. This wasn’t a dream. Azzi was really here. In her bed. On her birthday. Wearing her sweatshirt like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.

Azzi smirked. “Takes one to date one.”

The room felt warmer than usual. Or maybe it was just Paige, the heat crawling up her neck, the ring of sleep still blurring the edges of her thoughts. She couldn’t stop looking at her. Azzi’s legs were tucked beneath her, tan skin catching a sliver of sunlight through the blinds. She looked so relaxed, so unbothered, like this was just… what they did.

Paige wasn’t used to things feeling easy. But this? This was easy. This was real.

Azzi shifted, reaching into her bag, and pulled out a small box. Light blue, tied with a clean white ribbon. She held it out wordlessly.

Paige blinked at it. “You brought me a gift?”

“There’s a note inside. Read that first.”

Paige took it with both hands, something delicate catching in her throat. She found the folded card tucked beneath the ribbon, slightly creased like Azzi had unfolded and refolded it a few times. Her fingers brushed over the handwriting before she even opened it. She already knew what it would look like, Azzi’s lowercase letters, a little too careful, soft at the edges.

She read it once, quickly. Then again, slower.

Paigey,

You once told me you’d never felt more seen than when you were with me. What I don’t think you realised is that being with you helped me start seeing myself too. Not as someone who has to hold everything together, or protect every corner of her life, or always be two steps ahead — but as someone who’s allowed to love. Who’s allowed to want. Who’s allowed to be soft.

You loved Ruby before you even realised what that meant. You loved me before I was brave enough to say it out loud. And you’ve never asked for more than we could give — you just waited. And stayed. And now we’re here. This is from both of us. A little promise. That whatever this becomes, wherever we go… you’re already part of our world. You always have been.

Happy 20th. I love you.

– Azzi

Paige didn’t say anything. She just kept staring at the paper. Her eyes started to sting and she blinked fast, pressing her lips together. Her fingers brushed the crease in the page once, then twice.

Azzi was still watching her. Not pushing, not filling the silence. Just waiting.

Paige looked up. “You wrote this?”

Azzi smiled, but it was softer now. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know what to—”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Paige opened the box.

Inside was a ring.

Silver. Smooth. Unadorned. The kind of simple that meant more than anything flashy ever could. She lifted it carefully, already feeling the weight of it in her chest.

Engraved on the inside: P. R. A.

Her fingers trembled.

Azzi’s voice was quiet. “It’s not a proposal.”

Paige laughed softly, but it cracked in the middle. “You sure? Because it kinda feels like one.”

“It’s just a promise. From me. From Ruby. That you’re not just in this… you’re part of it.”

Paige stared at the ring for a few more seconds. Then slid it onto her right hand, fourth finger. It fit like it had always been meant to be there.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” she whispered.

Azzi leaned forward and kissed her again. This time slower, longer, her hands curling around Paige’s jaw like she didn’t want her to go anywhere. Paige pulled her into her lap, the box falling to the floor somewhere near the edge of the bed, forgotten. She could feel Azzi’s heart beating against hers, their mouths moving in lazy rhythm, like this was something they’d done a hundred times before and were finally letting themselves enjoy it.

“I want you,” Paige murmured, kissing along her jaw, her voice low and reverent. “Right now. For breakfast.”

Azzi laughed, breathless, eyes fluttering as Paige’s lips brushed her collarbone. “You’re out of control.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“I’m aware.”

“I woke up twenty. And horny. I feel like I should be rewarded.”

Azzi groaned as Paige pushed her back against the pillows. “We have training.”

“We have forty-three minutes.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi gripped the front of her shirt like she was trying to decide if she wanted to kiss her again or shove her away. Her breath was shallow, eyes dark. “You’re seriously trying to convince me to have birthday sex in your twin bed with fifteen minutes of sleep and no pants?”

Paige leaned in. “You said it like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi buried her face in her hands. “You’re a disaster.”

Paige grinned and kissed her neck again. “I’m your disaster.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. Just let Paige kiss her again. And again. Her hands slid into the sweatshirt, fingers mapping familiar skin.

“I love you,” Paige whispered against her mouth. “And I really, really want you.”

Azzi kissed her back, almost hard this time, her fingers curling into the back of Paige’s neck. For a second, Paige thought she’d won.

Then Azzi pulled away.

“Tonight,” she said, breathless, lips swollen. “After the game. After we win. Then you can do whatever you want.”

Paige whined, flopping onto her back like a toddler denied dessert.

“You’re so mean.”

Azzi sat up, still smiling, still pink in the cheeks. “You’re gonna live.”

Paige rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. “Barely.”

“Thirty points and I’ll let you pick the position.”

Paige peeked up. “Forty and you let me pick two.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re negotiating?”

“I’m twenty now. I make deals.”

Azzi shook her head and started braiding her curls. Paige watched her from the bed, eyes trailing down the smooth line of her back, the dip of her waist, the familiar curve of her hips. God, she was so in love with her it made her chest ache.

She stared at the ring again, catching the light.

This was real. This was hers. This was what it felt like to be chosen.

When they finally left the dorm, Paige was freshly showered, hair damp, her shooting sleeve tugged into place. Azzi walked beside her, fingers brushing every few steps. Not quite holding hands. But close. Paige looked down at her ring and smiled.

Twenty had never felt like a finish line. But right now? It felt like a beginning.

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

The locker room was already buzzing by the time they stepped inside, music playing low from someone’s speaker, sneakers squeaking against tile, the familiar chorus of Velcro straps and warm-up chatter echoing off the walls. Paige tossed her duffel onto the bench near her usual corner, nodding absently at Nika and KK, who were mid-argument about whether her birthday granted her immunity from rookie pranks.

Azzi moved a little slower, unbothered as always, peeling off her warm-up jacket and adjusting the neat line of her two power braids, the same ones she’d woven carefully that morning in Paige’s mirror, each braid tight and deliberate like a quiet ritual. Paige watched her from across the room, still wearing the faintest smile, heart full in a way that felt slightly uncontainable.

The morning hadn’t left her system. The kiss. The ring. The way Azzi had whispered “Happy birthday, baby” like it was sacred. Her hand drifted to her right ring finger, brushing it once. The weight grounded her. She wanted to kiss her again. Right now. Not the teasing kind. Not the promise kind. A kiss for luck. For everything.

She glanced around. Coaches weren’t in yet. Everyone was half-distracted.

Paige stood up, walked over like she wasn’t thinking about it too much, and tapped Azzi’s wrist just as she was digging through her bag. “Hey. Come here for a sec.”

Azzi arched a brow. “You look suspicious.”

“I’m not,” Paige said quickly, glancing toward the empty back room near the training table. “I just… need something.”

Azzi followed, clearly amused, letting Paige lead her into the little tucked-away corner of the locker area where no one would hear them unless they were trying. Paige turned, already pressing Azzi lightly against the wall, palms braced beside her.

Azzi tilted her head. “Should I be nervous?”

“No,” Paige murmured, stepping in close, “but I should be.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t stop thinking about this morning.”

Azzi smiled, smug and knowing. “The drool?”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Extremely.”

Paige leaned in, voice low. “I need my good luck kiss.”

Azzi’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “You planning on dropping thirty?”

“At least.”

Azzi tugged her gently by the waistband of her shorts. “Then you better make this one count.”

Paige didn’t need another invitation. She kissed her, warm, slow, with just enough pressure to make Azzi sigh into her mouth. She kissed her like it would carry her through every shot, every screen, every sprint. Azzi kissed her back just as fully, one hand curled at the back of her neck, the other resting against her chest, steady, sure, grounding.

When they pulled apart, Paige didn’t move far. Their noses brushed. Their foreheads touched.

“Good luck, baby,” Azzi whispered.

Paige’s voice was quiet. “You give the best pep talks.”

Azzi grinned, fingers brushing the ring on Paige’s hand. 

Then she kissed her again — quick, but deliberate. “We’re winning this, Go be a problem.”

“I always am.”

They stepped back into the locker room just as the coaches entered and the volume picked up. Paige slipped back to her bench, fingers brushing the edge of her wrist tape. She slid the ring off, and tucked it carefully into her warm up jacket.

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

The tunnel buzzed with energy, that pre-game electricity pulsing off the walls like a heartbeat waiting to explode. Sneakers squeaked. Someone behind her cracked their neck twice. KK was humming under her breath. Nika dribbled softly, rhythmically, like her palms were already syncing with the pace of the court.

Paige stood near the front of the line, one hand adjusting the strap on her sleeve, the other flexing unconsciously at her side. The sound of the crowd bled through, loud, high, familiar. Not overwhelming. Not anymore. Just... present. Like music under her skin.

She felt ready. She’d felt ready the second she left her dorm that morning. The ring Azzi had given her was tucked safely into a zipped pocket inside her warm-ups, close enough to feel, but hidden away like a secret. Her fingers brushed the fabric now, just once, grounding herself with the memory of Azzi’s voice—Good luck, baby—and the heat of her mouth on hers. She hadn’t stopped smiling since.

Behind her, Azzi stood still, shoulder brushing hers. Paige didn’t turn, but she could feel her. The heat. The steadiness. That quiet, unshakeable calm Azzi always carried like armour.

The lights dimmed. The announcer’s voice boomed across the court, muffled and crackling with anticipation. Names started rolling—the starting five. Cheers swelled and broke like waves with every intro. Paige bounced lightly in place, cracking her knuckles, her nerves a low hum beneath her ribs.

And then… “Starting at guard… number 5… Paige Bueckers!”

The crowd roared. The music surged. And Paige stepped out into the light.

It hit her instantly, the sound, the colour, the temperature shift from the tunnel to the open floor. Flashing lights. Glittering signs. Faces rising out of the stands like a living tide. She jogged out, tapped fists with the first hand offered, her eyes sweeping the rows of fans automatically.

And then she heard it.

“PAIGEY!”

High-pitched. Familiar. Clear as a bell cutting through all the noise.

Her head snapped toward the sound before her brain even registered it.

And there she was.

Six rows up, standing on the bench between Azzi’s parents like the smallest, loudest lighthouse in a sea of UConn blue. Ruby. Hair in puffs. Sneakers blinking with every hop. A jersey slightly oversized swallowing her frame, number 5 stretched across her chest in bright white letters.

“BUECKERS.”

And in her tiny hands, a massive glitter-covered poster, waving wildly in the air.

GO PAIGEY!

With sparkles.

And a basketball.

And a unicorn dunking over a rainbow.

Paige stopped. Mid-jog. Her mouth opened slightly. Her heartbeat stuttered.

She had imagined this. Kind of. She’d hoped. But nothing…nothing… could have prepared her for the way it hit. The way the crowd blurred out, the lights dimmed at the edges, and all she could see was a little girl in her jersey yelling her name like it was magic. Like she was the sun.

Ruby grinned so hard her cheeks looked like they might burst. She bounced and pointed, slapping Tim’s arm and shouting, “She saw me! SHE SEE ME!” The poster nearly whacked Katie in the face.

Paige stood frozen, just for a second too long. Then her eyes slid sideways.

Azzi was watching her.

Still behind her, still waiting to jog out, but her eyes were fixed on Paige, calm, full, a little smug.

Paige didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.

But the look she gave Azzi was everything. Disbelief. Gratitude. Wonder. She shook her head once, lips parted, heart visibly catching in her throat.

Azzi lifted her chin slightly, just enough to be smug without making it a joke.

Happy birthday, it said.

Then Paige looked back at Ruby, still bouncing, still yelling, still waving that glittery sign like her life depended on it.

And without thinking, without planning, Paige brought her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss toward the stands.

Ruby squealed like she’d won the lottery. “SHE DID IT! SHE BLOWED ME A KISS!”

Katie laughed. Tim clapped. Ruby nearly fell off the bench in excitement, caught only by Sparklehorn tucked in the crook of her arm.

Paige stepped fully onto the court now, her feet lighter than before. Her shoulders looser. Her whole body humming with something warm and electric that went deeper than adrenaline. She jogged to the baseline, slapped hands with Nika and KK, and let the sounds of the arena crash back into her.

She felt huge. Light. Anchored and untouchable all at once.

When the ref blew the whistle and the ball was tossed into the air, she didn’t hesitate.

She rose with it.

And didn’t look back.

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

The ball left Paige’s hands on a perfect arc, spun once, and dropped clean through the net without grazing the rim.

The crowd roared. Another three.

She didn’t smile, she didn’t need to. She just turned, jogging backward with that familiar bounce in her step, a hand raised in signal before sliding back into defensive stance.

She was dialled in.

More than that — she was free.

Everything that usually clung to her before a game, the pressure, the expectations, the quiet static of perfectionism was gone. Today wasn’t about proving anything to the world.

Today was hers.

Twenty years old. A ring tucked into her warm-up jacket. A kiss still lingering on her mouth. Azzi in her corner. Ruby in her jersey. She didn’t need fuel.

She was the fire.

The scoreboard climbed — 11, 19, 26. She drove through contact with a shoulder dipped and banked it in. Sank two free throws. Pulled up from deep, right in someone’s face, like it didn’t matter.

Because it didn’t.

The crowd kept getting louder, but it only fed her rhythm.

In transition, Nika swung a behind-the-back pass right into Paige’s hands at the wing. No hesitation. She rose and drilled it.

Thirty-three.

The other team called timeout.

Paige jogged to the bench, chest heaving, sweat slicking her spine, but she didn’t feel tired. She barely sat. Azzi passed her a towel and a Gatorade without a word, but the look they exchanged was loud.

Azzi smirked. Paige raised an eyebrow.

“Thirty-three already?” Azzi asked under her breath.

“Keep watching.”

She was back in within minutes. Another drive. Another foul. Another clean shot from the elbow.

Thirty-seven.

And then, with under four minutes left in the fourth, it happened again.

She was at the line for her second free throw when she heard it — clear, certain, cutting through the arena noise like a song she already knew by heart.

“PAIGEY!”

Her eyes flicked up, instinctively drawn.

Ruby stood high on the bench again, still waving that sparkly sign like it was her full-time job, curls bouncing with every hop. The jersey hung off her tiny shoulders, and Sparklehorn was clutched under one arm, battle-worn but still in uniform.

Paige let the smallest smile pull at the edge of her mouth. She took the ball, bounced it once, twice, then sank the shot like it owed her something.

Forty points.

On the way back down the court, she passed Azzi just behind the three-point line. The ball was still being inbounded. Everyone else was still shifting.

But Paige caught her eye and murmured as she passed:

“Forty. One more and I get to pick two positions.”

Azzi blinked. Just once. Her mouth twitched.

“Are you keeping count?”

“Are you kidding?” Paige murmured. “I’ve been counting since breakfast.”

Azzi choked on a laugh and had to physically turn away, shaking her head like she was trying not to smile too hard.

Then Paige stole a pass, ran it back, and laid it in smooth and fast.

Forty-two.

The crowd erupted.

Timeout. Again.

She didn’t even slow down, just jogged back toward the bench, tossing her headband to the floor and holding up two fingers in Azzi’s direction like she was calling a play.

Azzi, still standing, caught her eyes across the floor and mouthed, Unreal.

Paige grinned and shot back: You’re so screwed.

Azzi folded her arms, trying and failing to look unimpressed.

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

The final buzzer cracked through the arena like a lightning bolt not abrupt, not jarring, but full. Like a drumbeat landing perfectly at the end of a song. The scoreboard read 89–62. The crowd exploded. Coaches clapped. Someone tossed confetti from the student section that looked suspiciously like it came from a birthday party store.

Paige stood just off centre court, hands on her hips, chest rising and falling in sharp, satisfied bursts. Her jersey clung to her back. Her braid was half unravelled at the edges.

Forty-two points.

She didn’t feel it in her legs yet, that would come later. Right now, all she felt was light. The kind of light that came from giving every single part of yourself to something and being met with more.

She turned toward the bench, toward Azzi, already grinning. But then she heard it.

“PAIGEEEEEYYYY!”

She didn’t even have to look.

Ruby.

Sprinting, like actually sprinting across the court in a blur of curls and light-up sneakers, her little arms pumping, Sparklehorn trailing from one hand like a stuffed missile. Security barely twitched. They already knew. Tim had stood, but Katie just laughed and waved her on. Ruby ducked past a player, hurdled a Gatorade bottle, and launched herself into Paige like a heat-seeking hug.

Paige caught her on instinct, arms snapping around her mid-run, both of them staggering back a step from the momentum. Ruby’s arms looped tight around her neck, her legs around Paige’s waist. She was panting, cheeks flushed pink, voice breathless but bright.

“YOU DID IT! YOU SHOOTED ALL THE BASKETS!”

Paige laughed, her chest still heaving. “Hey, Roo.”

“You got ALL the points! I sawed it! I watcheded every one!”

“You were my lucky charm.”

Ruby pulled back just enough to look at her, one hand clutching Paige’s jaw, serious. “I wore your name.”

Paige froze. Everything around her, the cheers, the lights, the thump of a bass-heavy victory song from the sound system dulled just slightly. Her throat went tight in the best way. She looked down at the jersey swallowing Ruby’s frame, number 5 stretched across the chest, BUECKERS stamped proudly across the back like it belonged to all of them.

She swallowed. “Yeah, you did.”

“I telled everybody.”

“I bet you did.”

“You blowed me a kiss,” Ruby whispered, quieter now, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “It worked. You winned.”

Paige hugged her tighter, eyes glassy. “Best birthday present ever.”

“Happy birthday, Paigey,” Ruby whispered back, sweet and sleepy-soft like she’d saved it for now.

Behind them, Azzi was walking across the court, her expression unreadable but her eyes unmistakably full. She reached them slowly, like she was giving Paige space to just feel it. To hold it. To have it.

Ruby spotted her and gasped. “MAMA! PAIGEY GOT FORTY AND TWO!”

Azzi blinked. “She did?”

“She saided she gonna pick TWO positions!”

Azzi’s breath caught. Her eyes slid to Paige, who smirked over Ruby’s shoulder like she’d just sealed the deal of the century. Azzi stepped in close, brushing a hand along Paige’s arm, the contact instinctive. And then, without thinking, without remembering the cameras, the crowd, the chaos around them, she leaned in and kissed Paige on the cheek.

It was soft. Full of heat and pride and something deeply unspoken. A reflex. An anchor. A promise. Paige turned slightly into it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You really put up forty-two?” Azzi asked, voice low, as if they weren’t standing in the middle of the court surrounded by thousands.

“Counted every single one,” Paige said, flushed and smug. “You’re in trouble.”

Azzi blinked, still half-reeling from her own slip, then recovered with a smirk. “I’ll consider it a win.”

The rest of the team had started to gather, someone looping an arm around Paige’s shoulders, another shouting her stat line in exaggerated disbelief. Ruby was still babbling excitedly, telling KK how she made the sign “with her whole body,” and that Sparklehorn helped with the rainbow.

But Paige? Paige just stood there, one arm around Azzi, the other still wrapped around Ruby. Her jersey soaked. Her legs aching. Her heart too full to contain it.

She’d scored forty-two.

She’d kissed the girl she loved before tip-off.

And the tiny girl wearing her name had sprinted across the court like she was her whole world.

She didn’t say it out loud.

She didn’t need to.

Because this — this right here — was everything.

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

The locker room was loud in that post-win kind of way, echoes of laughter, the hiss of showers running, sneakers being kicked off, someone blasting an old Rihanna track from their phone like it was 2013. It smelled like sweat, floor polish, and faintly like cupcakes from whatever box Nika had stashed near her locker with a note that read ‘Don’t Touch, Especially You KK.’

Paige sat at her locker, half-draped in a towel, sports bra clinging to her ribs, still catching her breath. Her legs were dead. Her shoulders burned. Her calves ached. But her chest… her chest still felt light. Floating. Like the last two hours had been a dream she hadn’t fully woken up from yet.

The ring sat back on her finger. She’d pulled it out of her jacket the second she hit the locker room, unzipped the same small pocket where it had stayed tucked away the whole game, safe, close, but not on her. She slid it on before her jersey was even all the way off. She twisted it now, absently, her thumb brushing the inside engraving as her thoughts slowed enough to catch up with her body.

Azzi dropped down beside her with that quiet calm she always carried after games, one knee drawn up, sweat still glistening along her collarbone, her braids still neat. Paige looked sideways at her and smiled without meaning to.

Azzi bumped their knees together. “How’s it feel?”

“Like I could sleep for three days and then run it all back.”

Azzi leaned back, resting her elbow across the bench behind Paige. “Forty-two.”

Paige arched a brow. “You counting?”

“I’m aware of when I owe someone two positions.”

Paige turned her head, biting back a grin. “Oh, I will be cashing that in.”

Azzi blinked, the realisation sinking in a beat too late. “You’re seriously saying that in front of my daughter?”

Paige’s grin only widened. “She’s not here. You are. And I have the stat sheet to prove it.”

Azzi groaned, head falling back against the locker. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m efficient.”

“You’re dangerous.”

Paige reached up and tapped the ring gently with her knuckle. “I had this in my jacket pocket the whole game. Didn’t wear it. But it was there. I kept touching the zipper during timeouts. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so... like I belonged out there.”

Azzi looked at her then, really looked, her expression softening. “You always belonged.”

“I think today I believed it.”

There was a pause, not heavy, just full. Azzi’s fingers brushed lightly along the back of Paige’s neck, and Paige tilted into the touch without thinking. It wasn’t a kiss, but it felt like one.

Paige murmured, “You forgot about the cameras.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“That kiss. On the court. You didn’t hesitate.”

Azzi’s laugh was soft, nearly soundless. “Didn’t even realise until afterward.”

“I liked it.”

Azzi smiled and bumped her shoulder. “Good. You earned it.”

A few lockers down, Nika was mock-singing into a hairbrush while KK tried to remix her own stat line into a freestyle. Someone was already heating up a burrito in the microwave that smelled violently fake. Paige barely noticed. Her whole focus stayed on Azzi, on the warmth of her thigh against hers, the curve of her wrist draped lazily across the bench behind her shoulders, the quiet steadiness she always brought to these moments.

Azzi stood, stretched, then bent slightly to kiss the top of Paige’s head before murmuring, “Get dressed, Bueckers. We’ve got plans.”

Paige glanced up, squinting suspiciously. “What kind of plans?”

Azzi just smirked. “The kind you’ll like.”

“Two positions kind?”

Azzi didn’t answer, just walked away, braid swinging, arms crossed smugly like she hadn’t just completely wrecked Paige without laying a hand on her.

Paige exhaled, grinning to herself as she pulled on her hoodie. Her body was spent. Her voice was wrecked. Her limbs ached in every direction.

But her heart?

It felt like home.

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

The restaurant was tucked in a quiet corner of downtown, half-hidden behind a florist and a dry cleaner, the kind of place you only knew if someone brought you. Inside, it was warm and softly lit—dark wood booths, flickering tea lights, a chalkboard menu on the wall with a crooked smiley face drawn beside the specials. It smelled like roasted garlic, butter, and fresh basil. Paige exhaled the moment they walked in. Not because she was tired, even though she was, but because it felt easy.

Tim had made the reservation under “Fudd, party of five.” Katie had handled the seating. Ruby immediately claimed the spot between Paige and Azzi, swinging her legs under the table and talking nonstop about “how Sparklehorn was da loudest cheerer in da whole game.”

Paige was still buzzing. Not from adrenaline anymore, but from something deeper, something steadier. Azzi sat close beside her, the same sweatshirt Paige had seen her in that morning now slung over her shoulders, her braids pulled back into a loose bun. Tim poured waters. Katie asked about sauce preferences like they hadn’t just watched Paige drop forty-two points. It was surreal. And it was perfect.

Ruby waved down the server with the confidence of a four-star general. “We need mac and cheese. And garlic bread. And maybe sprinkles?”

Paige leaned in, grinning. “You sure you don’t want the calamari?”

Ruby blinked. “What’s a calamarry?”

Azzi laughed into her napkin. Katie ordered two pizzas and a side of penne for the table. When the bread arrived, Ruby immediately broke off the end of a garlic knot and offered it to Paige like it was ceremonial. “For da winner.”

Paige bowed her head in mock reverence. “I’m honoured.”

The conversation drifted, about the game, about the glitter that was still in Ruby’s ear from the poster, about how Azzi had warned her parents earlier that morning she was leaving early to surprise Paige and that yes, the ring was in her bag and no, they shouldn’t ask if it was too much. Tim raised his glass, soda, by Ruby’s decree and said, “To the birthday girl. To a career high. And to a very, very glittery sign.” Everyone clinked. Ruby spilled a little. Paige smiled so hard her cheeks ached.

And then, just as the food was arriving, Azzi reached into her bag and pulled out a flat, carefully wrapped object, paper pink at the corners, tied with a crooked ribbon. She set it in front of Ruby with a look that said: your turn.

Ruby’s eyes widened like she’d forgotten, then gasped and pushed the gift toward Paige. “It’s for YOU! Open it now! Now now now!”

Paige laughed and peeled back the paper. Inside was a wooden frame, simple, hand-painted pink around the edges, slightly smudged with glitter in the corners. And behind the glass, a crayon drawing done in bold, chaotic colour. Three stick figures stood in the centre: one with long legs and wild yellow hair labelled Paigey, one with curls and huge sneakers labelled Me, and one with a basketball and what looked like superhero lashes labelled Mama. Sparklehorn floated in the sky with a rainbow behind her. And at the bottom, in big, careful letters, it read: To: Paigey. From: Ruby.

Paige didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at it, her hand flat on the table, the other pressed briefly to her mouth. Her chest tightened, throat locking around something too big for words. It wasn’t the drawing… it was what it meant. What it said without needing to. That she was loved. That she was chosen. That she was theirs. Her vision blurred. She blinked once, then again, trying to clear it, but the tears spilled anyway, soft and quick and totally uninvited.

Ruby leaned in. “You like it?”

Paige nodded, trying to breathe around the lump in her throat. “I love it.”

“I drawed it with all my colours,” Ruby whispered. “And a pink heart. ’Cause I love you big.”

Paige reached for her and pulled her into her lap in one smooth motion. “You are the best teammate I’ve ever had.”

Ruby curled against her like it was instinct. “Mama said you gonna keep it forever.”

“I’m gonna frame it again and hang it on the ceiling.”

Azzi smiled into her glass. Katie wiped her eyes. Tim cleared his throat like something spicy had hit him.

Dinner went on—plates passed back and forth, Ruby insisting everyone rank their favourite sauces, Tim declaring “this meatball is elite,” Katie sneaking a second slice of pizza to Ruby when she thought no one was looking. Under the table, Azzi’s fingers laced with Paige’s and stayed there, unmoving, like a quiet promise.

At one point, Paige leaned into her shoulder and whispered, “You planned everything, didn’t you?”

Azzi didn’t answer. Just squeezed her hand.

And just when Paige thought the night couldn’t feel more complete, the lights dimmed slightly. The waiter returned, grinning, holding a small cake with pink frosting and flickering candles. Piped across the top, in loopy purple icing, it read: Happy Birthday, Paigey. A single sparkler flickered beside the candles like a little firework just for her.

Before she could say anything, the Fudds broke into song, loud, imperfect, and entirely too charming. Ruby was the loudest, clapping off-beat, singing every word like it was the chorus to her favourite song. Tim sang harmony badly. Katie elbowed him. Azzi didn’t even hesitate.

Paige just sat there, cheeks flushed, laughter caught behind her teeth, watching them sing to her like they’d done it a hundred times before. Like she’d always belonged at this table. At the end, just as the sparkler fizzled out, Azzi leaned in and kissed her—quick, soft, a little bashful, but full of something that made Paige’s stomach flip.

She didn’t even care who saw it.

Paige looked around the table. Her found family. Her girl. Her birthday cake. Her little teammate still licking frosting off her finger like it was sacred.

She didn’t make a wish when she blew out the candles. She didn’t have to.

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

The dorm door clicked shut behind them, muffling the hum of the hallway and the last traces of dinner chatter from earlier. Paige stretched her arms overhead as she dropped her keys on the desk, her shoulders cracking from the day—game, adrenaline, cake, emotions. She tugged her hoodie off and tossed it onto the back of her chair, already stepping out of her sneakers. Her hoodie clung to her back, the cross at her collar catching the low dorm light. She reached for a clean oversized black tee and tugged it on without much thought, the fabric hanging loose around her shoulders. Yellow cargo pants followed—baggy, low-slung, casual in that deliberate way that somehow made her feel hotter than any dress ever could.

Azzi was still in the bathroom, door cracked open slightly, steam drifting faintly into the room. Paige ran a hand through her hair, glanced in the mirror, smirked at her reflection. The faint outline of the chain around her neck, the fit of her pants, the calm buzz under her skin, it was all working. She tugged once on the shirt’s hem, then turned to grab her phone.

Then the bathroom door opened.

Paige didn’t turn at first. She felt it before she saw it, something shifted in the air like static, heat, gravity. And then Azzi stepped into view.

Her dress was black. Tight. The fabric hugged every curve like it had been sewn directly onto her body, stopping just shy of indecent, just enough to keep breathing legal. Her shoulders were bare. Her curls were down, falling soft around her collarbones, and her lip gloss shimmered faintly under the dorm light as she stepped in, completely unbothered.

Paige’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Azzi gave her a once-over, slow and obvious. “You’re really committing to the cargos.”

Paige swallowed, then recovered… barely. “They’ve never betrayed me.”

Azzi stepped closer. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you on this bed yet.”

Azzi’s eyes dropped to her hand. Her voice softened. “You’re still wearing it.”

Paige glanced down instinctively. The silver ring sat snug on her finger, right where it belonged. She hadn’t even noticed she’d left it on. Her chest went a little warm.

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly quieter. “Of course I am.”

Azzi’s gaze lingered there a second longer, then lifted to meet her eyes. “Looks good on you.”

Paige stepped forward, close enough that her breath touched Azzi’s jaw. “You look like you’re trying to ruin me.”

“I look like your problem.”

“You’ve always been my problem.”

Azzi tilted her head, a slow, satisfied smile curling at her lips. “You’re really gonna wear that outfit and talk to me like you’ve got self-control?”

“I’ve got none.”

“Then don’t pretend.”

Paige didn’t.

She reached out, grabbed Azzi by the hips, and pulled her in with one fluid motion, their bodies flush in the quiet hum of the dorm. She kissed her like she meant it, slow, low-pressure, but deep enough to stop the clock. Azzi exhaled softly against her mouth, hands slipping beneath the hem of Paige’s shirt, warm fingers dragging lightly along her sides. The kiss lingered, stretched, deepened. Paige lost herself in it, in the rhythm, the familiarity, the weight of everything they weren’t saying.

When they finally parted, Paige didn’t step back.

“You’re not gonna make it ten minutes at Ted’s,” she muttered, eyes still half-lidded.

“You think I wore this to make it easy?”

“You wore this to kill me.”

Azzi’s lips brushed her jaw. “You’ll die happy.”

Paige leaned her forehead against Azzi’s for a second, then sighed and grabbed her phone off the desk. “Come on. Let’s go let the team embarrass themselves.”

Azzi touched her lip gloss up in the mirror like they hadn’t just made out against a dresser. “You’re gonna spend the whole night staring at me.”

“You say that like it’s a threat.”

She didn’t answer. Just smirked, grabbed her bag, and walked toward the door with that slow, hip-swaying stride that Paige absolutely could not look away from.

By the time they stepped out into the night, Paige already knew this birthday wasn’t over.

Not even close.

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

Ted’s was alive in that too-loud, too-hot, too-crowded kind of way that always made it feel like the centre of the universe. Bass thumped through the floor, the air thick with body heat and cheap liquor. The ceiling lights pulsed low and dirty—purple strobes and neon reds sweeping over a sea of sweat-slicked skin and glitter.

Paige barely had time to scan the room before Nika’s voice cut through the chaos.

“THE BIRTHDAY BUECKERS HAS ARRIVED!”

Paige blinked, slightly stunned. Nika was standing on a bench, arm extended toward her like she was Moses parting a sea of college kids.

“Someone stop her,” Azzi muttered under her breath, but Paige just laughed, letting herself be pulled deeper into the haze of lights and sound. The team had claimed the back corner, two sticky tables, a semicircle of stolen stools, and half a bottle of tequila already on the way out. 

KK was doing a shot with one eye closed, arguing loudly with Amari about who would win in a no-dribble one-on-one. Ines was crouched beneath the table trying to fix her heel. Caroline was handing out cherry sours like they were candy, and Aaliyah was already two margaritas in and swaying to the beat from her seat. Not everyone on the team drank, but those who did? Fully committed.

Paige slid into the booth. Azzi followed, leg pressed against hers immediately. Warm, smooth skin. Paige was already sweating from the heat inside the bar, but Azzi’s dress didn’t help. Tight black, low back, body sculpted by divine intervention. It had taken every ounce of willpower to leave the dorm room.

This? This was going to kill her.

A fresh round of shots hit the table.

“To twenty!” Nika shouted.

“To Paige!” Caroline yelled louder.

“To her scoring forty-two and still managing to look hot in yellow pants,” Ines added with a grin.

Paige raised her glass. “To the woman who owes me two positions.”

Azzi’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Babe.”

Paige grinned. “Hey you made the deal, remember?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “You’re not gonna make it to midnight.”

“Oh, I’m making it,” Paige said, downing her shot and grimacing. “But I’m collecting. Don’t test me.”

The music surged. Someone behind them shouted something about a dance circle. And then, like gravity was pulling her, Azzi stood.

“Come on,” she said.

“I’m not ready.”

Azzi held out her hand. “You wore the pants. You’re ready.”

Paige groaned dramatically but followed her, letting herself be led into the crowd. The floor was a crush of bodies, flashing lights, and pulsing heat. Azzi turned, eyes already half-lidded, the corner of her mouth curving into something that made Paige’s knees feel like overcooked pasta.

Azzi moved slowly at first, just a sway of her hips, nothing overt. But Paige knew her. She knew the deliberate shift of her weight, the roll of her spine, the way her fingers drifted down her own thighs like she was pretending not to notice the way Paige was staring. It was all for her. All part of the slow, careful undoing.

Then Azzi backed into her.

It wasn’t aggressive. Just a subtle press of hips to hips. Paige’s breath caught as Azzi rolled her body down and back, grinding into her like they were the only two people on the floor. Paige’s hands found her waist like magnets. She wasn’t thinking anymore. She wasn’t capable.

Azzi glanced back once, eyes dark with heat and challenge. Paige’s grip tightened.

“Jesus,” she muttered into Azzi’s neck.

“You said you were ready.”

“I lied.”

Azzi laughed low and wicked and kept going, her body moving like music itself. Paige was beyond ruined. Her head dipped to Azzi’s shoulder, teeth dragging across the skin there before she caught herself. She couldn’t do this here. She shouldn’t. But she wanted to.

And then, without warning, Azzi’s mouth brushed her ear, lips barely moving. “You’re coming back to mine.”

Paige didn’t reply. Couldn’t. She just met her eyes and nodded once.

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a suggestion.

It was happening.

Back at the table, the team was on their third round of shots. Nika and KK were trying to one-up each other with increasingly bad impersonations of their head coach. Ines was doing the worm on the floor. Caroline had someone’s number written on her forearm in lip liner. There were at least six different cocktails being passed around and a bucket of something on fire that no one could name.

Azzi tugged Paige’s hand. Paige followed, no hesitation.

No one stopped them. No one noticed.

Or maybe they did and just grinned.

By the time they reached the door, Paige was already pulling her close again, already pressing her fingers into Azzi’s side like she couldn’t wait a second longer. The cold night air hit them like a slap but they didn’t care.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t need to.

They were done pretending.

The real party was just beginning.

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

The front door closed behind them with a soft click, followed by the quiet shuffle of Azzi toeing off her shoes. Paige leaned against the wall for a second, heart pounding harder than it had since they left the bar. The tequila was still in her bloodstream. So was the feel of Azzi’s hips grinding into hers on the dance floor. So was the sight of that dress. That mouth. That look.

Azzi didn’t say a word. Just grabbed Paige’s hand and tugged her down the hall, every step careful on the creaky floorboards. The house was dark except for a soft amber glow spilling out from under the guest room door.

They paused. Azzi slowly turned the knob and cracked it open, peeking inside.

Ruby was fast asleep, cheeks flushed, curls wild on the pillow. Sparklehorn was tucked under one arm, her other hand resting on Katie’s chest. Tim was snoring faintly behind them both, his arm draped over the toddler and his wife like a sleepy fortress. It was soft. Safe. Completely untouched by the night Azzi had just had.

She exhaled.

Paige leaned in behind her, rested her chin briefly on Azzi’s shoulder, and whispered, “She’s good.”

Azzi nodded. They backed away slowly. Then, without a word, Azzi slipped into her room and pulled Paige in after her.

Click. Lock. And the second the door latched, something in the air changed.

Azzi turned. Paige was already on her, kissing her like it had been hours, not minutes, since their last one. Azzi melted into it immediately, arms around her neck, moaning softly into her mouth as Paige backed her into the door. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t patient. It was filthy and hot and perfect.

“You,” Paige muttered against her lips, “owe me two positions.”

Azzi’s laugh was breathless, swallowed in another kiss. “I remember.”

Paige’s hands gripped her hips. “I want the first one now.”

Azzi’s brows lifted, eyes glinting in the low light. “Which one?”

“You know.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Azzi stepped back slowly, teasing. She tugged the hem of her dress up and over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her bare and beautiful in the soft light from the hallway.

Paige’s mouth parted. Azzi climbed onto the bed like she owned it. And she did. She looked back at Paige and crooked one finger. “Lie down.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. She stripped off her shirt and pants fast, tossing them somewhere behind her, and laid flat on the mattress, eyes locked to Azzi like she was prey.

Azzi straddled her slowly, knees pressed to either side of her head, her thighs trembling slightly with leftover adrenaline. She hovered just above Paige’s mouth, one hand braced against the headboard, the other threading gently through Paige’s hair.

“You sure you’re up for it?” she teased.

Paige’s hands gripped her ass. “Sit.”

Azzi did. Her knees pressed into the mattress, thighs shaking with anticipation, nerves, and the lingering buzz of tequila. Her breath was shallow, uneven, her heart thudding hard beneath her ribs.

Paige lay flat on her back, arms outstretched in welcome, looking up at her with a hunger that made Azzi’s pulse spike. “Come here, baby,” Paige whispered, voice low, rough with want. “I need you.”

Azzi let out a small exhale and adjusted her position, one hand on the headboard for balance, the other brushing Paige’s hair back tenderly.

Paige slid her hands slowly up Azzi’s thighs — gentle, grounding, thumbs brushing the crease where her legs met her centre. She looked up at her like she was something sacred. “You’re already shaking,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve been needing this too, huh?”

Azzi swallowed and gave the faintest nod. “Since we started dancing.”

Paige licked her lips. “Then don’t wait anymore.”

With a soft gasp, Azzi lowered herself onto Paige’s mouth.

The first contact, warm, wet, intentional — nearly stole the breath from her lungs. Paige licked a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, savouring it, tongue dragging through her slick with aching control.

Azzi’s head dropped back as her hips twitched involuntarily. A quiet, stunned moan slipped from her throat. “Oh my god…”

Paige gripped her hips more firmly, holding her steady, guiding her gently forward again. “That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Azzi moved slowly, rocking against her mouth, her balance faltering as the pleasure took over. Paige met every motion with practised ease, licking her in deep, slow circles, then sucking gently on her clit in pulsing pressure. Her mouth was all heat and hunger and precision.

“Fuck—” Azzi whispered, her voice barely there, her fingers clenching tighter on the headboard. “It’s… you’re…”

She couldn’t form words.

Paige moaned into her, the vibration sparking through her entire body like lightning. Her tongue flattened and pressed deeper, licking in long, wet strokes, then flicking back up to her clit, tongue curling, teasing, tasting.

“You’re so sweet,” Paige murmured against her. “Like you’re meant for this.”

Azzi whimpered. Her thighs were shaking now, her hips rocking down more insistently despite herself. Every time Paige circled her clit just right, her body threatened to collapse.

“Stay with me,” Paige whispered. “I’ve got you. Let me feel all of you.”

Azzi’s hands left the headboard and threaded tightly into Paige’s hair. She didn’t force. She just held. Anchored herself in Paige’s softness, Paige’s strength.

Paige licked harder, messier now, coaxing her open and desperate, mouth gliding through every slick stroke with precision. Her tongue moved in firm, pulsing swirls, her lips sucking gently, worshipping her with every breath.

Azzi gasped. “I’m close. Baby, I’m—” she choked, “—I can’t hold it—”

Paige looked up at her from under her lashes and whispered, “Then don’t.”

She tightened her grip, pulling Azzi down flush onto her mouth, letting her ride it, letting her grind, every motion wet and frantic and beautiful. Azzi’s hips rocked in helpless rhythm, her cries catching in her throat as she tried to stay quiet.

“Come on, baby,” Paige whispered. “Come on my tongue. Give it to me.”

Azzi broke.

Azzi came hard, teeth sinking into her own wrist to keep the noise in, legs shaking, body arching over Paige like she was about to collapse. Paige kept licking through it, slowing only as Azzi began to quiver with overstimulation, her thighs closing gently around Paige’s head, her body melting forward.

Paige eased her off with care, arms wrapping around her waist to steady her. Azzi collapsed beside her, panting, sweat sticking her curls to her forehead, heart thudding wildly.

Paige’s mouth was glossy and red, her eyes full of adoration. “You okay?” she asked gently, brushing Azzi’s damp hair off her cheek.

Azzi laughed, breathless, her voice cracked and raw. “Okay? I think I just floated out of my body.”

Paige kissed her — sweet, slow, tasting herself, tasting them. Azzi moaned into her mouth and curled against her chest.

“You always take care of me like that?” she whispered.

Paige smirked and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Only on Mondays. And Tuesdays. And basically every night you let me.”

Azzi smiled, still shaking. And Paige thought: she has never looked more beautiful.

After laying there letting Azzi regain some sort of control of her body, Paige smirked and rolled to her side, reaching under the bed for her bag.

Azzi blinked. “Wait—”

“You said two.”

Azzi’s breath caught as Paige pulled out the harness and started fitting it into place — smooth, confident, slow just to mess with her. Azzi watched every second, swallowing hard as Paige adjusted the straps around her hips.

Once it was on, Paige stood by the bed, eyes full of fire. “Turn around.”

Azzi did, slowly, getting to her knees, bracing herself on her elbows with her back arched and her ass high in the air.

Paige climbed onto the bed behind her, placing one knee on either side of Azzi’s thighs, the toy brushing lightly across slick skin. She didn’t rush. Instead, she leaned forward, draping her chest across Azzi’s back, her lips ghosting over her shoulder blade as her hands ran up Azzi’s sides, pausing just under her ribs. “Tell me how you want it,” Paige whispered, her breath warm. “How much do you want me, baby?”

Azzi shivered, grinding back against her just slightly. “I want to feel you. Deep. Slow at first. But then—” Her voice faltered, but the blush on her cheeks deepened. “You can go harder. If you want.”

Paige kissed her shoulder gently. “You sure?”

Azzi nodded, voice breathless. “I trust you.”

That undid her.

Paige pressed a final kiss to her neck, then leaned back and positioned herself. She ran the head of the toy slowly through Azzi’s folds — once, twice — gathering slick and teasing her already swollen clit gently before lining up. One hand settled at the small of Azzi’s back, rubbing soft circles into the skin.

“Relax for me, baby,” Paige murmured.

Then — slowly, deliberately — she pushed in.

Azzi’s breath caught as her body welcomed it, inch by inch, tight and soaked, her back arching instinctively as Paige filled her. A low moan escaped her lips as Paige sank in deeper, until their hips were flush. She paused there, letting Azzi breathe, one hand gripping her waist, the other steadying her own body above her.

Azzi whimpered into the pillow. “So full…”

“Yeah?” Paige said softly, pressing kisses along her spine. “You take me so well. Just like that.”

She started to move — slow, deep thrusts that dragged the toy in and out of her with steady precision. Her grip on Azzi’s hips firmed as she guided the rhythm, finding the perfect angle to make Azzi gasp with every roll of her hips. At the same time the harness was rubbing against her clit, she was struggling to hold it in but kept going. Their bodies moved together like they’d been doing this forever — every motion deliberate, every breath shared.

“You’re incredible like this,” Paige whispered, her voice thick. “You’re mine like this.”

Azzi moaned again, the sound raw, needy, broken open. Her body rocked back to meet each thrust, hips rolling, cheeks flushed and damp. “More,” she whispered. “Please.”

Paige leaned forward, her chest against Azzi’s back, arm wrapped across her belly. “More?”

“Yes,” Azzi begged, her voice shaking. “Harder.”

Paige kissed her neck, then shifted her weight. Her thrusts grew deeper, harder, not rushed, but forceful, the sound of their bodies meeting growing louder. Azzi’s fingers clenched in the sheets, her voice catching with each deep stroke. Paige’s hand slipped up her torso, brushing the underside of her breasts, grounding her with every touch.

“You feel so good,” Paige breathed. “So open. So fucking perfect.”

Azzi cried out softly, biting into the pillow to muffle herself. Paige could feel how close she was, in the way she tightened around the toy, in the tremble in her arms, the desperate way her hips kept pushing back for more.

“I’ve got you,” Paige said, her voice shaking now too. “I’m right here.”

Her hand slid around, down between Azzi’s thighs, fingers finding her clit. She rubbed slow, tight circles in time with every thrust, and Azzi broke — her body arching, legs shaking, hips jerking back against her. 

“Come on, baby,” Paige whispered against her skin. “Let me feel you come on me.”

Azzi came hard, her entire body shaking, a sob slipping from her lips as she buried her face in the sheets. Paige kept moving through it, slowing only slightly, her hand still rubbing, coaxing every last wave of pleasure from her.

“I’ve got you,” Paige murmured again. “I’ve got you, my girl.”

When Azzi finally collapsed, Paige smiled and kissed her cheek, then gently pulled out, slipping the harness off and tossing it to the floor. She wrapped her arms fully around Azzi now, spooning her from behind, one leg draped over hers, her hand pressed to Azzi’s stomach. “I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispered into her hair.

Azzi turned her head slightly, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. “I love you,” she whispered.

Paige kissed the back of her shoulder, then her jaw, then her temple. “I know,” she said softly. “I feel it every time you let me love you like that.”

Azzi nodded against the pillow, voice wrecked. “That was… everything.”

They stayed like that for a while — Azzi trembling, Paige wrapped around her from behind, bodies slick and shaking. 

Suddenly, Azzi turned to her, chest still rising and falling fast. She smiled and rolled over, slipping between Paige’s legs. “I’m not letting you sleep yet,” she said softly.

Paige didn’t argue. She just leaned her head back into the pillows, lips parted, chest heaving as Azzi settled between her thighs like she belonged there. Her hands slid along Paige’s sides, worshipping every inch with touch alone before dipping lower, fingers trailing lightly over her hips, the inside of her thighs, teasing her without mercy.

Paige’s breath hitched. “You’re serious?”

Azzi looked up with a wicked grin. “Deadly.”

She leaned in and kissed the inside of Paige’s thigh, then the other, slow and lingering. Her mouth was hot and soft and everywhere except where Paige wanted her most. Paige’s legs trembled slightly, still sensitive from earlier, but her need hadn’t faded — not with Azzi looking at her like that. Not with her voice that low and that sweet.

“Can I?” Azzi asked, her breath ghosting over wet skin. “Only if you want more.”

Paige’s hand found her hair. “I always want more of you.”

Azzi didn’t wait another second. She licked a long, unhurried stripe through Paige’s folds, moaning softly at the taste. Paige’s hips twitched, her thighs instinctively closing in, and Azzi held them open gently, fingers digging in just enough to ground her.

“Still so wet,” she murmured. “Still so perfect.”

Paige let out a choked laugh, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Azzi smiled. “I’d make it worth it.”

Her tongue flicked over Paige’s clit, feather-light at first — teasing, tasting, making her squirm. Then deeper strokes, firmer pressure. She moved like she was memorising her all over again, slow and deliberate, every lick purposeful. Paige’s back arched, a soft gasp catching in her throat.

Azzi groaned into her, the sound vibrating against her clit. “You taste like sex and tequila,” she whispered, licking again, slower now. “I could stay here all night.”

Paige moaned. “Don’t stop. Please—”

Azzi didn’t. She licked her with aching patience, alternating pressure and pace, building her up slowly, cruelly, with full strokes of her tongue and tiny, devastating flicks right where Paige was most sensitive. Her hands stayed soft on her hips, grounding her, guiding her through the rising heat.

Paige was already shaking. “Fuck—Azzi—”

“I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured between licks. “Just let go.”

She flattened her tongue and dragged it all the way up again, then sealed her lips around Paige’s clit and sucked, slow, firm, unrelenting. Paige cried out, one hand flying to cover her mouth as her hips jerked off the bed.

Azzi groaned and slipped two fingers inside, gently, easily, curling just enough to make Paige sob. “You’re so tight,” she breathed. “So warm. Let me feel you, Paige. Come on.”

Paige’s eyes squeezed shut. “I’m gonna—God—Az—please—”

Azzi sucked harder, tongue flicking fast over her clit as her fingers moved deeper, pressing right into that perfect spot with every stroke. Paige broke, her whole body clenching around her fingers as her orgasm tore through her like fire. Her mouth opened in a soundless cry, her thighs clamping around Azzi’s head as she came hard — wetter than before, louder, every part of her unravelled.

Azzi didn’t stop until Paige was twitching from overstimulation, her hand weakly tugging at her hair to signal she needed a break. Azzi eased off gently, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs as Paige tried to catch her breath.

When she finally crawled back up the bed, Paige was wrecked — completely limp, skin flushed, hair damp, mouth parted in a dazed smile. Her eyes blinked open just enough to find Azzi’s face.

“I can’t feel my legs,” she whispered.

Azzi laughed, breathless. “That’s how I know I did it right.”

Paige reached up and cupped her cheek, pulling her in for a slow, messy kiss that tasted like both of them. Azzi melted into it, settling her weight gently on Paige’s chest, both of them boneless, skin to skin, hearts still racing.

“You should always be touched like that,” Azzi murmured.

Paige smiled into her mouth. “I should only be touched like that… by you.”

Azzi brushed a damp strand of hair off her forehead and kissed her again, softer this time — reverent. “You’re mine,” she whispered.

“I’ve always been yours,” Paige replied.

“Happy birthday baby” Azzi whispered.

Paige laughed weakly. “Best fucking one of my life.”

They didn’t say anything else. They didn’t need to.

Eventually, they fell asleep tangled together, Paige curled around Azzi from behind, their limbs a mess of warmth and closeness. The room still smelled like sex and sweat and tequila. The sheets were half off the bed, and the door was still locked.

[marsosims]

CHAPTER 1: A BAD IDEA

“And you’re seriously considering it?”

Penny groaned, dropping her head onto the table before lifting it just as fast. “Strangerville, Ruby. STRANGER-ville. The name alone is a warning.” She threw up her hands, nearly knocking over her coffee. “Of all the places in SimNation, that’s where you’re planning to move? To the land of tin-foil hats and government cover-ups? It’s insane!”

“You can’t actually think this is a good idea, right? Your whole life is here! You don’t just wake up one day and decide to pack up and leave because of some random inheritance letter!”

The hum of the diner did little to soften Penny’s incredulous tone. A few customers glanced over, unimpressed, and from behind the counter, Ms. Geeta - owner of Diner Rasoya - narrowed her eyes in warning. Penny ignored her, too caught up in her dramatics to care.

Ruby picked at her gummy pancakes, trying to find the words to say. “I mean… I wouldn’t say ‘choosing’, more like ‘inheriting under weird circumstances and kinda out of options?’”

Across from her, Salim adjusted his glasses, his brows knitting together. “But Strangerville? It’s basically the middle of nowhere. It’s all cowplants and conspiracy theories out there.”

Salim was holding the stack of papers Ruby had brought with her earlier that morning -  a letter from a lawyer in Strangerville addressed to her that she was entitled to inherit a sizable house that belonged to her (apparently) late (estranged) biological mother (can you even call her that?).

Ruby watched as Salim flipped through the pages, his expression unreadable. It was the same look he gave when he was deep in thought, the kind that usually meant he was about to say something annoyingly reasonable.

“You’re sure this is legit?” he asked, scanning the letter. “Not some weird scam?”

“It’s real”, Ruby nodded, tapping her fingers on the table. “The lawyer’s legit, and an Aminta Zubiri - did die in Strangerville a few months ago. Found it on SimBook.” She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t spent hours scouring the internet just to confirm that the woman who abandoned her was actually gone. “Apparently, she left everything to me.”

Penny snatched the papers from Salim’s hands, squinting at the legal jargon before setting it back down on the table. “Wait, wait, wait. So, she just disappears from your life for—what? Over a decade? And now you get a creepy house in the middle of nowhere?” She huffed. “What a parting gift.”

Ruby exhaled sharply. “Yeah, well. Better than nothing, I guess.”

Salim took a sip of his own coffee while giving Ruby a careful look before asking, “But do you even want it?”

Ruby let out a slow breath, watching the steam curl up from her coffee. “I don’t know,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I mean… it’s not like she was ever in my life. This isn’t some big, emotional homecoming. It’s just—” She gestured vaguely at the papers on the table. “A house. In the middle of nowhere. Left to me by a woman I barely remember.”

Penny crossed her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to take it. You could just sell it, right?”

“Sure.” Ruby exhaled a short, humorless laugh. “And where would that leave me? Still here, still barely scraping by, still one bad month away from losing my apartment.” She shook her head. “I don’t have the luxury of turning down free housing.”

Salim’s expression softened, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. “I get that, but… Strangerville?” He glanced down at the papers again like they might hold some kind of hidden answer. “It’s not just far, it’s—”

“Weird,” Penny cut in. “Look, what I was saying about those government cover ups earlier, I wasn’t joking! Apparently people there are kinda going crazy.”

To that, Salim started snorting. “Sure, let’s all believe the mini conspiracy theorist over here.” Penny narrowed her eyes at Salim. “Are you sure you haven’t been getting too into that weirdo Ernie- no - Arv - Erwin Pries on SimTube or something?”

Penny snapped her fingers. “Erwin Pries! He’s always going on about ‘the truth they don’t want you to know’ and whatever. And I hate to say it, but—” She gestured wildly. “The dude might actually have a point! People in Strangerville are acting weird. Like, full-on blank stares, creepy smiles, mumbling nonsense weird.”

Salim rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You really think a whole town is secretly brainwashed or whatever?”

“I don’t know, but something’s off.” Penny leaned in, lowering her voice. “And if your mom lived there—” she tapped the stack of papers “—maybe she got caught up in something. Maybe that’s why she left.

Ruby’s stomach twisted, but she forced a dry laugh. “Okay, now I know you've been getting too deep into SimTube.”

Penny shrugged. “I’m just saying. Strangerville isn’t exactly high on anyone’s dream destination list. Why would she choose to live there, and without contacting you or your dad for over a decade?”

Ruby didn’t have an answer for that. She’d spent years trying to push those questions aside—why her mother left, why she never called, why she had seemingly erased herself from their lives. And now, out of nowhere, she was supposed to inherit everything she left behind?

She shook her head, staring down at the letter. “I don’t know, Pen. But I guess I’m about to find out.”

Salim sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

Penny scoffed. “Obviously! But when has Ruby ever listened to us?”

Ruby managed a small smirk. “When do I ever?”

She clapped her hands together, cutting him off. “And that’s why you guys love me.” She shot them both a pointed look before sliding out of the booth. “Now, come on—help me pack.”

Penny muttered something under her breath before downing the rest of her coffee like it was the only thing giving her strength. “I hate this.”

Salim shook his head but stood anyway. “This is a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” Ruby admitted, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “But it’s my bad idea.”

-

Author's (AUTHOR???) Note: This is just going to be maybe a short retelling of my Not So Berry Playthrough but starting with Gen 2 instead! Please let me know what you think :3

[vmiina]

summary threesome with ruby and dean, that’s it.

warnings 18+ mdni!! unprotected p in v (don’t try) creampie (yikes) mean!ruby porn without plot

your thighs are wrapped around dean’s head as he sucks on your clit, like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. his toned arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to him so he could get more of you. his green irises gleaming as he stares into your eyes through his thick eyelashes, his pupils blown wide. his eyes shift to your side, the soft gleam in them disappearing almost immediately as he sees ruby.

if looks could kill ruby would be dead by now, dean narrows his eyes, like he’s trying to see right past her. but you didn’t notice that. too busy focusing on the feeling of ruby’s lips against your own, the kiss was full of need, pent-up frustration and pure sin. it wasn’t gentle either, it was full of possessive force, all of it coming from ruby. her tongue claims more territory as she deepens the kiss, the heat of everything almost too overwhelming. both dean and ruby devouring you with their tongues.

no matter how many times you three did this together, no matter how many times he was around you and ruby, you were the only one of those two that he softened for. he’s always thought of ruby as nothing but a manipulative demon, always getting in his way. he never liked her, but since you always insisted on having her there too he couldn’t say no, right? and besides he enjoyed the way she always had you like a whimpering mess, wrapped around her finger.

your soft gasps and moans are muffled by ruby’s lips, which is honestly good since noises you’re making would definitely be heard to the room next door. the motel walls aren’t that thick, dean had said many times, from experience. you couldn’t breathe, feeling overstimulated all over, but you couldn’t pull away from either ruby or dean. ruby’s lips too intoxicating on yours, and dean’s grip on your thighs nearly bruising. ruby brushes your hair out of your face softly, her nails tangling with your locs as she caresses your hair.

ruby eventually breaks the kiss, letting out a soft sigh at the loss of your lips. as soon as the kiss broke you let out a soft cry, finally letting dean hear how good he’s making you feel, and if that didn’t make his already high-confidence even higher he doesn’t know what. “baby you gotta be quiet, don’t want the people next door t’hear you.” dean coos against your inner thigh, halting his actions for a moment, making you let out a soft whine. he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before he gently bites on it, sucking on the bite mark after, creating a faint red bruise there. it has you tugging on his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp.

“you heard him.” ruby coos, as if she’s mocking you for the noises you’re making. it has dean rolling his eyes, he didn’t need her confirming his words. dean removes his other hand from your thigh, bringing it between your legs as he teases your entrance with his fingers. pushing the his ring finger inside your pussy, watching you closely to observe your reaction. your warm gummy walls immediately clench around his finger, sucking it right in. it has dean grinning, like he’s proud of himself for getting you this riled up and needy.

it doesn’t take long for dean to find your g-spot, it’s like he knows your body better than you do. his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside you, it has your back arching off of the dingy motel bed. both dean and ruby seem extremely turned on by your responsiveness, with dean finally taking his other hand off your thigh to palm himself through his boxers. ruby on the other hand just observes mostly, her gaze full of lust, even she couldn’t deny that she really enjoyed the view. she squeezes her thighs together firmly, trying to ease some of the need coiling in her lower abdomen.

“that’s the spot ain’t it?” dean teases, his husky tone accompanied with a grunt. he rolls his hips into his palm, pressing a soft kiss to your aching clit. his hot breath fanning over the sensitive bud as his fingers work on you, adding onto the the pleasure. your hand reach towards ruby, grabbing the bedsheets a couple of times in the process until you actually manage to grip onto her hand, squeezing it in a way that’s almost painful, nails digging into her burning hot skin. “fuck— dean—“ you moan out, all whilst ruby cups your face, rubbing her thumb softly against your cheek, in a way that’s almost domestic.

dean slowly slips his middle finger inside you too, stretching you out. you didn’t even register the pain at first, only paying attention to the delicious feeling of his fingers fucking into you. your brows furrow, mouth agape as soft whimpers pour out in an unbroken rhythm, just a bit too loudly. “shut the fuck up.” ruby commands in a harsh tone, she really doesn’t want anyone to hear what you’re up to. for a moment you’re quiet, not wanting to disobey her, knowing what it could cause. but it doesn’t take long until you’re nothing but a moaning and a whimpering mess.

ruby sticks her fingers in your mouth, deep enough to elicit a gag reflex. she makes you suck on her fingers, in order to keep you quiet. you look at her, seeing smug grin on her lips. “jesus dean, don’t let her come too soon.” ruby orders, making you let out a strangled ‘no’ against her fingers, making her press your tongue down, making it impossible for you to protest. that’s one of the only thing ruby has said that dean can agree on, he shifts his gaze from you to her. “wasn’t plannin’ on it.” he says as he pulls his fingers completely out of your pussy, leaving you feeling empty, clenching around nothing.

dean scoots up, removing himself from between your legs where he had been nestled for what felt like an eternity. now straddling your hips but not daring to put his full weight on you, his boxer-clad hard on against your stomach. he brushes your hair out of your face before he presses a couple of gentle kisses all over your face, his cheek brushing lightly against ruby’s palm. “you think you’re ready to take me?” he purrs against your neck as he shifts down your body slowly, pressing kisses on each part. ruby takes her fingers out of your mouth, finally letting you breathe and speak properly. her fingers coated with your spit. “yes— please dean. i need you—“ you cry out, hips arching off the bed.

dean grabs you by your waist, flipping you around so you’re laying on your stomach. your face hovering inches over ruby’s pussy, covered by her lace panties, you could see a wet patch there and it turned you on even more. you’re too busy focusing on that so you don’t even realize that dean’s gripping you by your hips, lifting them so that your ass is in the air, so he can fuck you properly. ruby’s delicate fingers hover over the hem of her panties, slipping beneath them so she can pull them off.

dean’s boxers are long gone, he had thrown them somewhere across the motel room. he spits on his hand, bringing it down to stroke himself a couple times before he aligns himself with your entrance. the pink tip of his cock nearly red, coated with the precum oozing out. he grips the base of his length firmly, brushing it against your folds a couple times before he slides into you in one smooth move. filling you up in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. ruby cups your cheek, relishing in the way you already look so fucked-out. she slaps your cheek a couple times, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting in a way that gets you back to your senses.

“get your mouth on me, whore.” ruby demands as she grabs your hair, tugging it so that your mouth is hovering over her glistening cunt. dean pulls out completely, only to thrust all the way back in, throwing his head back. dean’s action made your head bump to ruby’s inner thigh, making you let out a soft whine. “c’mon, be good.” ruby says as she inches closer, making your lips connect with her clit. you wrap your trembling hands around her thighs, overwhelmed with pleasure. ruby’s just trying to get your attention off dean, to get all the attention to herself.

dean finds a steady pace, his hips pistoning against your ass, the filthy sounds of skin slapping filling the small motel room, bouncing off the walls. dean keeps his gaze locked on you between ruby’s legs, that sight could make him cum right there and then. and it nearly does, but only nearly. he has to squeeze his eyes shut, take a deep breath but the sight in front of him is burnt deep into his retinas. “you feel so good— shit baby.” dean practically whimpers out as he grips onto your hips tightly. you let out breathy moans against ruby’s aching pussy, her body trembling with each of your gentle licks.

“good fuckin’ girl.” ruby rasps out, even she lets a soft moan escape through her lips, her hands gripping your locs like a lifeline, pushing your head even closer to her heat. each flick of your tongue sending shock through her. “you like how he’s fuckin’ you huh? you feel good?” ruby taunts you softly, as you lap up at her juices. letting out a incoherent answer, scratching at her thighs, leaving red marks behind. “already fucked dumb, didn’t take much.” dean scoffs as he presses a gentle kiss to your back, lips tracing your spine.

you start to suck on ruby’s clit, even biting down on it a couple times. it has ruby’s hips shuddering as she nears her climax, it doesn’t take much, she’s so goddamn pent up. she grinds her cunt against your face, wanting you to devour every inch of her. “pleaseugh—“ you beg, not even sure for what. dean’s thrusts becoming sloppy, your walls gripping onto him in a way that makes it almost impossible to plunge out of you. “ease up.” dean grunts as he lands a harsh smack on your ass, leaving his handprint on the skin there.

after a while ruby finally comes with a cry, making you devour every single drip of her fluids. as she pulls back, you bury your arousal-coated face in the sheets, gripping them so hard your knuckles turn white. dean keeps going at a bruising pace, but you can tell how close he is by his shaky breath, the movement of his hips faltering for a moment as he releases inside you with a loud whine. coating your insides white, with you leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock “you’re so goddamn good, a fuckin’ gem.” dean husks as he pulls out, letting you collapse to the bed.

saw a tiktok that said something like “imagine having a boyfriend and a girlfriend who hate each other” and that kinda inspired this. literally my sweet babies ugh i love them so much ☹️☹️.

[prettynpinkputhy]

Comforting the leader of Onychinus

“AHHHHH!” You shriek—walking into your apartment bathroom to see a gigantic dark haired man standing at the sink. Blotches of inky liquid are splattered on the floor and mirror. you run at the stranger swinging your fist. His back tenses and a chuckle reverberates in his chest.

“Kittens got her claws out.” he catches both your wrists in one hand, suspending them above your head. Ruby eyes flit down to your confused expression.

“Sylus?” You pant heavily, brows bunched.

“The one and only, sweetie.” That smug smirk confirmes his identity regardless of his new features.

“what happened to you?” He lowers your arms to card through his hair self consciously.

“You don’t like it?” His usual deep confident tone is replaced with a more timid side of him you didn’t see often. Was the leader of onychinus shy?

“No it isn’t that. It’s just different. What made you do this?” You hop on your tiptoes to rub his dark slick new hair-do. A faint blush tints his ear. He nuzzles into your warm opened palm, his crimson eyes closing.

“K-pop.” He says. You stand holding his cheek for a while waiting for him to continue…he doesn’t. You burst out laughing.

“What?” Tears of laughter prick your eyes. His face turns tomato red and he pulls away from your touch to turn his back. He folds his arms.

“Aww don’t pout come on Sy, explain… please?” you poke his side. He grumbles something you can’t make out. “Huh?” You pry.

“I heard you telling your friends about your favorite K-pop idol. I searched him up and I know I’m not the best singer or dancer so-“ he shifts on his feet, his muscular forearms tightening with discomfort.

“So you dyed your hair to match my favorite idol? Oh my god Sylus, look at me.” He turns to face you again, a tiny pout pulled to his usually smug expression. You cup his cheek.

Your eyes soften with sincerity. “You’re perfect. No idol could ever compare.”

“You mean it?” He asks breathily.

“Of course I do. Now let’s…figure out how to wash this out.” You look around at the mess of hair dye all over your bathroom. “Why didn’t you do this at your own house?”

“Yours is smaller so I figured it be easier clean up.” His eyes crinkle at the corners with pride.

[rereisstuff]

LOVE HANGOVER !

summary: falling in love with Kim Mingyu wasn’t the best idea.

pairing: idol! Mingyu x idol! reader

note: i mean the reader kinda dumb, kim mingyu a player cause im mad at jim how can he be so cute and so not mine😡☝🏾

your solo was killing it everywhere, idols were asking to film the dance challenges with you, it was a win after win, everything was great.

you were laughing with your crew as you got ready for a performance, suddenly a knock was heard and some staff entered with a huge bouquet of red roses.

ruby roses congratulating ruby <3

you deserve the world, pretty girl - km

the room was filled with squeaks and giggles as you read the note.

you met Mingyu when both were 18, both just debuting and young.

friendships started to grow along your career and suddenly one day one of your friends added you to a getaway, with other of her friends.

the day everything went wrong.

you got together with Kim Mingyu, and although he wasn’t the superstar he is now he was extremely charming.

the problem was that, he was charming whenever he was in the mood.

after intimate moments during that little vacation, you added him in kakao and followed his secret instagram account, then decided to message him but he replied:

we aren’t allowed to date, sorry pretty girl.

the humiliation was horrible and you decided to never contact him again…that until your friend’s birthday.

were things got crazy again.

then, a Calvin Klein after party, in which the real after party was at his newly acquired place.

you found yourself falling again and again.

you knew he was in one of the dressing rooms as a part of you couldn’t contain the emotion of sharing a performance show with his group.

“i talked with seventeen’s manager, you can ask one pr two members to do the challenge with you” your manager entered the room.

the other thing is that nobody knows what goes on between you and Mingyu, only your close friends the ones that introduced you.

you swallowed thickly and walked over the door with their name, knocked and exhaled a shaky breath.

soon you meet Mingyu opening the door, smile dropping a bit in disbelief when he saw you.

“hi Min, can i come in?” you almost whispered, he nodded.

“you look beautiful” he replied quietly as well, stepping aside to let you in.

you greeted and walked straight to Dino and Hoshi, both known for their dancing skills, they agreed.

you filmed and laughed for a bit, forgetting the guy across the room looking directly at you.

“if you don’t decide, someone else will” the stylist said as she saw the look in his face.

“it’s complicated and i don’t want to talk about it” he almost sulked as you were walking out.

Dino was fun, a little young, but fun, he just told you to come to his favorite bar to drink god knows what beverage which you agreed to.

you had a friendly date with Mingyu’s bandmate next sunday.

you almost yelled in excitement and relief, something new was happening, no more Kim Mingyu.

or that’s what you thought till you felt someone tugging your wrist.

a well known front crashed into yours, lifting your head to see and confirm it was him.

“you liked the flowers?” he smiled, soon your legs turned into jello, you was still weak.

you couldn’t talked so you nodded, with a shy smile.

“how about we have dinner, next sunday?”

“i think that’s perfect” you smiled lovingly, he corresponded with one as well.

he bended down and kissed lightly the outline of your lips, making you shiver.

“see you around pretty girl” he came back to his room, leaving you there again, daydreaming.

tomorrow the love hangover will be strong.