#and he can't get through a chapter without mentioning a flower

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

the victorians really got it right with flower language. it's like beginner's guide to symbolism. any time i read a victorian text that mentions a single flower i race over to allflorists.co.uk (not an ad) before i can even finish the sentence to figure out the "hidden" meaning. it's like the boxed cake mix of literature.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.82)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. "You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Tags: Trans! Tae, Dysphoria, talks of jealousy and love, top surgery/boob jobs, medical talk, talk of weight gain, body insecurity, body dysmorphia, crack, attempts at humor boobs, fingering, mild dirty talk, voyeurism, Talks of depression, mention of seizures but no seizures today, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of marriage and wedding rings, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of past self-harm, mentions of ptsd, scars, this is the beach episode that all anime's have,

W/c: 20.6k

A/n: wow! this is the chapter that officially pushes us up and over the 1million words mark of this story! i hope that everyone has enjoyed the ride so far, it feels so satisfying to get to the end of tae's arc after all this time <3 i really enjoyed writing this even if it took me a bit longer to get here. please tell me what you think of it and if you like it lol.

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Summer comes, polishing its rusty claws.

It’s easy to feel daunted by the change in season, it always makes you feel like you’re running out of time. But change doesn’t always bring bad things. Scary Things? Sure. But alot of change is necessary, even if it's scary at first.

The date is June 1, and the change in weather is welcome. An early warm spell sends the pack scrambling to set up the outdoor furniture, cutting up watermelon after watermelon and strawberry over strawberry.

Jimin gifts Tae a new outdoor settee with a thick pink cushion and woven rattan back, dotted with swans and flowers. You and Tae tear through your sundress collection and keep your favorites on rotation. matching most days and color cordinating. You wear yellow on monday and pink on wednesday. Sometimes when Namjoon asks, you wear blue.

Hobi's sprouts come up on the windowsill and Yoongi makes him a set of four raised garden beds out front for green onions and parsley. the tomatoes that are green and small now will get a little out of control by the end of the summer.

Sort of like the roses. They heap over the rock wall. Wild and untamed and beautiful. Hobi can't bear the idea of cutting them back or even propping them up with a trellis.

But Picking the flowers for you and Tae however- that is something that Hobi can stomach.

Jungkook is perpetually empty from the nest from the hours of 6am to 9am. Intent on using as much sunlight as possible to take his ridiculous 12-mile runs. Sometimes when he feels like going slow, you go with him. He has this stupid dream of running a 5k with you (and you are unfortunately prone to indulging his stupid dreams). Even if he spends half of your morning walks teasing you for your slow pace.

You can only run like 50 feet without getting too out of breath to continue. But every day you go a little farther. Run a little longer. change is funny like that- it creeps up on you.

"Did Yoongi's mating mark make you like- more like a cat?"

"That's a really nice way of calling me lazy" you tease. Jungkook just grins. Both of your hands are sweaty and swinging between you. You have too many questions for him. “Why do you even like running anyway? Why do you want to run with me? Wouldn't it be faster if you went alone? You could run a marathon like tomorrow if you wanted.”

“Yeah, but it would be different if it was with you and I ran my first marathon when I was 20 before I even met Jimin and Tae. They're fun but only if you do it with a ton of people.” he looks down at your feet.

"When those wear out we should get matching sneakers."

"Can mine be pink?"

"Only if mine are purple."

"Deal."

When you do leave with Jungkook you always come home to Namjoon sitting on the front porch reclining in Tae's pink settee, reading and sipping his coffee. The curious chickadees twittering around you a gentle giant of a pack alpha.

Namjoon’s hair has started to go truly salt and pepper. Probably from the stress of the last year. You try to count them all one evening sprawled in the living room, spirited away playing on the TV, Namjoon on the floor sitting between your legs. He lets out a groan and tells you to stop when you get to 100.

“We could always dye it you know? You don’t need to go grey if you don’t want to. Jimin's pink for Christ's sake-” Jimin had perked up from the dining room chair, fresh dye dotting his hairline like the roses dot the rock wall outside. (And most of the windowsills since Hobi likes to pick the roses and bring them inside.)

"Yeah hyung, go pink with me! you're practically a blank canvas" Tae hums from behind Jimin, smiling down at him as she mixes a fresh bowl full of fuchsia.

Namjoon peers at the back of his head with the handheld mirror. He catches your love-struck look as you gently thread your fingers through his nape, your soft smile.

“No. It's okay.” He says. Contemplative. Even though you tell him that Tae dyes her hair so much that she has no idea when she’s going to go grey or if she’ll even ever really notice.

(Jin shaves Namjoon's hair later that week, going short for the heat and summer. And you and Jimin perpetually rub his spiky short hair, a bit obsessed with how sensory it is until he tells you to stop).

But this is how summer with the pack goes. Warm nights spent at your favorite spot and hamburgers and French fries. There are people to call, and things to orchestrate. Jin’s been going a little insane since quitting his job with the FBI, and the warm weather only makes him more prone to fussing. You hardly survived the post-heat spring cleaning.

More than once this spring Jin has demanded that Jungkook actually be hosed down outside after one of his runs turned him muddy and sweaty. Sometimes, Jin does the same with Hobi if he gets particularly grimy taming the garden. The veggies and the Roses. The walks and slow evenings. Life with the pack goes like this; a little lazy, a little busy chasing everyone around and keeping it together.

The garden grows. The sweet lemony lemony-smelling French doubles fill the yard with their scent and Red David Austins dot the fence in the corner like red stars. White fragrant French cups drape up and over the stone.

Hobi likes to pick them in the early morning, right as he has his first cup of coffee. Someone else is inside is getting you yours, or maybe you and Tae are changing for the pack's beach day. You both looked sleepy and draped all over each other when Hobi last saw you. Trailing after Jin who was already griping about the UV index as he and Tae led you in the direction of the dressing room to pick out your bikini for the day.

His careful fingers are mindful of thorns as he snips them free of the bush. A morning dove coos in the middle of the cul de sack, and Noodle meows from around his ankles guarding the alpha’s coffee (and occasionally sneaking sips. Especially if Hobi's used half and half). His baby blue cup rests in the grass slightly overgrown because Hobi is ever mindful of the pollinators.

He has a few blooms in his hands, mainly the pink ones. Hobi offers one to Noodle, crouching on creaky knees, letting the cat smell. Pushing his whiskers past the first row of petals. Purring loudly.

“What do you say Nu? Should we head inside and see if the girls like them?”

The door creaks and Hobi's coffee cup dangles from one pinky, empty. Three brightly colored beach bags wait by the door clogging the doorway and stopping Hobi from being able to open it all the way. They're piled high with towels, chip bags, and enough sunscreen to cover a small parking lot. Your and Tae's dresses are draped over the back of the couch, colorful and long patchwork spilling half onto the floor. A river of multi-colored floral squares.

Hobi can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what he’s watching.

You’re up on the counter and the bikini you wear is small, a bit too small. The red string at the back tied in a bow. One of Tae's hands tangle in it. Winding the red strand over her knuckles, back and forth between her fingers. Your bare back and your dimples are on display- distracting Hobi from what’s going on at your front. 

There’s just a lot of skin on display is all, and not much clothes. Hobi can handle it. Like a gentleman.  He restrains his imagination. Reminding himself that he's allowed to look, that he's not being creepy. But still- he's a little happy that Tae seems to be too busy whispering something to you from between your legs to notice Hobi's eyes trailing up your back.  

She's got one hand on your hip, digging into the alluring cleft where hip meets torso, the other concealed by your bodies.

You’d think he’d be used to it- you and Tae lounging around in little to nothing. Tae's gauzy collection of night dresses, or your spread of mini sleep shorts- but the mini bikini seems extra extra mini today. The thread-narrow straps and small red triangles do little to conceal your body and how it swells. 

Your milk had tapered off after the first few weeks of your heat but the swelling has been slow to go down.  That coupled with a little bit of post-heat indulgence and doting has left your body round and supple in a way that the alphas just devour. Hobi knows you've complained more than once about the newfound back aches and the new stretch marks and he sympathizes he really does but-

But fuck.

You sort of look like something off the cover of one of those vintage Playboy magazines that Tae pretends she likes for 'aesthetic reasons'. Not that Hobi judges. Hobi understands why tae's a little obsessed with them. Your chest is sort of a wet dream.

The whole pack is a lot obsessed with them.

Hobi thinks you're just kissing until You tip your head back and moan, and he almost trips over the corner of the carpet.

“Oh? You're-” Hobi's throat goes dry.

Tae picks her head up from where it was buried in your hair and laughs. Showing her canines, eyes bright and mischievous.

Her hand keeps moving between your thighs. When you try to close your legs, Tae's other hand grabs your knee and pushes them open. She does it like she hardly notices you squirming away or your sudden shyness.

Your scar shines silvery. Hobi hardly notices it. Eyes flicking down to it, to where tae grips your hip, fingers dimpling. Hardly catching the half-frantic glance you send over your shoulder at him. Caught.

Tae bites into the skin of your shoulder, so quick that Hobi almost misses it, directing your attention back to her with a jolt. It's a light correction, a playful one. There are other bruises and evidence of the pack's loving on your body too, a hickey under your jaw that hobi's pretty sure is from him. Others on the inside of your thighs from Jimin, And even more along the line of the bikini.

Jungkook has this funny habit of leaving bruises in the shape of a heart. Tilting his neck so that his hickeys make a pattern.

It's nothing Hobi hasn't seen before. This kind of thing is sort of routine for the pack. Yesterday he found Jungkook and Yoongi fucking in the sunroom, and the morning before that Hobi walked in on Jimin and Namjoon in the upstairs bathroom having some sort of staring match as Jin showered. Both of them hard and pretending they weren't.

And the day before that Tae had walked in on you and Hobi and Yoongi being…a little bit ridiculous on the front porch. Doing some all too public heavy petting that the pack alpha and pack omega would surely disapprove of if they found out.

It's not the first time Hobi has kept your secrets.

The last time Hobi saw Tae finger you, you were at the kitchen table (three mornings ago) but Hobi can't say it's not a welcome surprise. Your squirming is all you can do to keep the pack's pawing at bay when you're like this.

Tae grins, Drinking in Hobi's blush like it's strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t slow her pace at all. Two fingers or three? Her hand works in between your tights as you sag against her front, boneless. Giving in to the fact that you have an audience and Tae doesn't have any plans of stopping. Her wrist crooks to find the angle that makes your toes curl and Hobi sees it on your face the moment she finds that little spot that makes you clench extra hard.

Upstairs, Jungkook laughs loudly. Someone or something crashes into a door or a wall hard enough to make the windows in the kitchen rattle. Probably Jimin and Jungkook chasing each other around, zoomies that are sure to get worse when they get to the beach.

“Guys” Jin’s stressed tone sounds and Namjoon’s deep baritone says something in response. Too low to hear. Distracting the pack omega so that the pups can be pups. Who knows where Yoongi is, probably tightening down a screw or a loose nail or something.

Hobi smirks, kicking a hip up against the counter after refilling his coffee. Settling in to watch. The roses are forgotten about, discarded on the counter where they glimmer, going withy.

Hobi sips his coffee. Making eye contact with you over Tae's shoulder. And you blush furiously at the blatant way his eyes flicker from your face to your chest to between your legs.

"Do you-" you breathe heavily, cheek resting against Tae's arm, scrambling to paw at her hand when she crooks her fingers a little deeper, petting insistently in and in. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side, leaving a little trickle of slick on the counter. The dewy and delicious parts of you are hardly hidden by Tae's wrist. A delighted growl-pur builds in Hobi's chest at the sight.

"Do you have to watch?" Your voice goes breath as Tae changes the angle of her hand and you throw your head back, but Hobi doesn't even blink.

"I'm quite enjoying my view thank you very much." He teases. "a settling?" He asks, taking in your dazed expression and the way you cling to her.

"Hole check." Tae quips, her tone vaguely endeared, like Jin's hole checks aren't the pack's favorite form of entertainment when it comes to teasing you and keeping you settled. Hobi's seen you get them just about everywhere; in the shower, bent over the arm of the couch. Or jin's favorite- sprawled over his lap in the nest before bed, usually post knotting.

You hiccup and paw at her wrist, but she just keeps going.

Tae growls, deep and pleased. There must be something with her instincts today, something setting her on edge. Maybe it's just the sight of you in that itty bitty bikini, a size too small for your new healthy body that spills out around its edges. Fuck- girls are so-

Hobi's grip goes white-knuckled on his coffee, and Tae shifts to the side so that Hobi can see. You duck forward into her chest overwhelmed nuzzling the faint fat there. You want to suck. To keep something in your mouth to keep the moans at bay.

You’d woken up a little bit soft-minded, a little bit more laconic than usual. Yoongi wrapped around your shoulders and Jungkook nuzzling somewhere around your stomach. No one was too surprised that it had been hard to wake you up.

It’s no wonder that Tae- usually more prone to being riled up by you in omegspace, had taken the way you’d trailed after her as something of an invitation.

You’re not wearing one of your bikini no- Hobi is intimately familiar with those (on account of how much you’ve both used the upstairs hot tub this spring) this red one is Tae's. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but-

Tae's chest is not the same size as yours, especially not after your heat- whereas this bikini fits Tae perfectly- on you- it’s a little small.

Hobi can’t stop looking at your sternum, can't stop looking at you. the rest of the day is going to be torture. everything about you distracts him- the chub at the side of the red triangles, that freckle between your chest- all of it.

Tae grins at him like she knows and that's why she chose it, her cheek resting on the top of your head, smiling gently like she’s not knuckle deep in your pussy. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side darkening to a faint maroon.

Her hand keeps moving, nudging sweet little sounds from you. Her hands are glossy to the knuckle and you know you’re leaking onto the kitchen counter (not that it hasn’t seen worse) you bury your nose in her throat, and let out these little huffs, and tae's hand slips under the side of your bikini to feel the flutter of your heart.

or just feel you up a bit. Her squeezes are appreciative and surprisingly tender.

Ah, fuck.

Hobi crosses his arms and sips at his coffee. You make eye contact with him and then shy away, hiding your moans in Tae's shoulder. Tae's bikini is dotted with small flowers, white on top and pink on the bottom.

Her chestnut hair is extra curly- Hobi doesn’t know why she bothered with the rollers when any effort that she puts into her hair will be damaged by the salt water later but still. It spills over her shoulders in pretty waves. She’s still wearing a clip at the nape of her neck, Hobi darts forward to take it out as you let out high-pitched ‘ah- ah- ah's

“Yah guys! Not in the kitchen! We eat here.” Jin already has a healthy glob of sunscreen covering both his cheeks, depositing yet another beach bag by the front with a loud and uncermous thud as he catches sight of what you and tae and now hobi are doing in the kitchen.

You can tell by the brief glance you cast over Tae's shoulder that he was planning on hassling you to get some sunscreen on too, a task now forgotten.

Tae cocks an eyebrow at Jin, and her fingering goes a little stronger, she picks up one of your legs hips splaying wider, showng jin too. "Yeah? I eat here too."

Jin huffs, half laughing. Hobi snorts into his coffee. "You're unbelievable."

“Just one sec, she’s almost there.”

You hide your face in Tae's shoulder, blushing furiously at the casual way she says it, all but pawing at her. Your fingers dig into her arm, the delicate bracelets on her wrists jingle and she crooks her fingers right there.

“You’re just gonna stand there? Your bathing suit is still upstairs?”

Tae grins at Hobi, pressing her thumb against your clit in the way that makes you squeal. All but ignoring your predicament. Hobi knows you like it when your pleasure is treated as routine, as something casual. Hardly worth mentioning or acting up over. They could make you cum over breakfast and then in the car and it would just be taking care of you. they'd decide and you'd take it. 

“And what? Miss the show?”

Jin sighs and forces you to untuck your head from her shoulder. "you have until she cums before I make you go upstairs and change baby."

"But-"

"No buts." you bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. Eyes dazed and foggy, completely small underneath their attention. “Pretty little thing,” Jin comments, eyes dark. Tae's hips shift ever so slightly. Like she’s supremely aware of the pack omega so close behind her.  And Jin’s hand crests your knee and your ankle, holding you open so that Tae can continue.

“Close your eyes pup,” You moan through it, Jin spreading a generous layer of sunscreen on your cheeks as Tae's hand works, turning your bathing suit dewy, wet, and messy.

You whine, high-pitched quiet. Jimin trips over the carpet in the main room same as Hobi, eyes flicking from Tae's hands to you then back again. “Oh, I- oh”

Hobi takes another swallow of his coffee, "yeah, oh" Hobi watches Jimin's eyes flicker from your pussy, to the wet countertop below.

Jimin's been being…a bit weird about your slick since your heat. A little bit less likely to reach out to you, to touch you. Like he’s too mindful of his own desires (or of triggering an early rut, Jimin is sort of due for one just like Hobi- he can feel it, an itch under his skin sometimes that threatens to build). But still unable to stop the almost magnetic draw to you in the evenings when the night falls and the hours grow slow.

He hasn’t exactly been obsessed with your pussy since your heat, but to say there's have barely been a 2-day span where Jimin hasn’t sought you out would be true. There's hardly been an evening that he hasn’t folded himself close in the nest and shuffled up behind you. Needy and a bit hard already at just the thought of asking. It's hard to pretend like he hasn’t sat next to you at every available opportunity. That Jimin hasn't trailed behind you and Tae or closed the door to the library room when Tae decides she needs some 'personal reenactment' for a chapter in her book.

Hobi doesn't blame Jimin for being pussy whipped. Hell- all of them are a little obsessed with it. He's heard Namjoon and Jin talking about it, late at night when they think no one is awake.

"The doctor did say that we should be careful. About her slick and us alpha's."

"Do you think they could get like- dependant on it?"

"I think it's only an issue if the pup says it is." Jin had snorted, and the sound of lips connecting had slightly woken Hobi from sleep. Wet and messy kisses getting messier by the second.

"If Minnie wants help, he'll come to us."

Hobi sort of wonders if this is like that, if Tae is like that with you, either addicted or dependent on it and that's why she's fingering you on the kitchen counter. Watching as you paw at Tae's wrist as it starts to become too much, moaning against her throat as she stalwartly continues to rub up against the spongy part of you.

Hobi could tell you the exact moment that she tips you over the edge. Fingers reaching just a bit deeper in almost a petting motion. Hobi laughs, and your squirming goes a little overstimulated, trying to pull back, gripping Tae's wrist with a choked-off moan. But Tae won't stop until you actually start to tremble.

Your body seizes and then relaxes, and you cling to her, sighing, burying your face in her neck to hide from the others who shuffle around the kitchen. Yoongi barely pauses to dot a kiss on your forehead before he gets the cut-up watermelon out of the freezer and asks Jimin to carry the cooler up from the basement. The others continue to chatter.

"Did you grab the lemonade?"

"Yes!" Jungkook bounces around the kitchen, already with so much energy even though he's had no caffeine.

"And the liquid iv?"

"Yes hyung- yes, come on- the tide is changing and I wanna make sure we have high tide for body surfing-"

"Wait Yoongi- could you check the oil in Hobi's car-" 

"I checked it two days ago." Hobi puts his empty coffee cup in the sink.

"Before or after you and the pup took it out? I know how you drive baby."

That makes Hobi blush, it’s as gentle of a scolding as Jin is capable of giving, "Hyung-"

"Go change pup."

Hobi sighs and follows the pack omega's instructions. Tae keeps her fingers inside of you until you’ve had the chance to come down all the way, until your breathing has gone heavy and you blink up at her, feeling a little hazy. She grins and kisses you on the nose. She takes her fingers out with a faint squelch, wiping them on a kitchen towel before she gently puts your bikini back in place. You whine and squirm.

Namjoon comes down the stairs, nostrils flaring, looking up at you and Tae, you’re a bit debauched, but Jin continues rubbing sunscreen onto your cheeks, switching to Tae's after a second. “Are you guys ugh- ready to go?”

Tae shuffles away with a lazy grin. You blink at her like you're half surprised that she's left you alone on the counter. She asks for it, and Jimin hands her both of your dresses, she pulls her dress over her head and sets yours on the counter.

“Hold on, one sec,” Tae fixes your bikini bottom, putting it back in place before dropping to one knee. Your hand goes into her hair, tugging and blushing furiously as she does. Trying to pull her back up as the whole pack watches her press a kiss over your pussy lips, the wet fabric of your bottom clinging to them, showing everything. Every ridge and dip.

Tae doesn't lick or nibble. She just kisses your wet spot and pops up onto her feet with a grin, hair bouncing,

“There we go, ready!”

~-~

It’s an uncommonly hot day for June. The seagulls turn slowly in a circle, like one big mobile buffered by the gentle ocean breeze. Even the screaming children feel quiet, dampened by the sound of the ocean waves roaring.

You almost bump into Jungkook as he helps unload the car, a brightly colored beach bag under either arm. Shirt already off and looking drippy and boyish in the summer sunshine, romantic looking in a way that only Jungkook can gring. He grins, his tousled hair just so before he ducks down to peck your forehead and dance around you.

You sway in the sunlight like a reed before toppling back into the passenger seat.

Hobi leans low, hands balanced on the hot metal roof of the car. Eyeing you over the rim of his dark sunglasses. A little worried. The others dart around both of you. Getting the bags, the cooler, the umbrella from the cars.

“You okay?” He asks and you fiddle with the ribbon on your sunhat, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah,” you say after a second. You'd spent the whole car ride staring out the half-cracked window, eyelashes catching the wind. Hair going tangly until Tae leaned forward from the backseat to put it up for you in a claw clip.

The rendezvous earlier hadn't woken you up, not like they'd hoped, not at all. Hobi looks at you for another long moment before saying, “okay, I’m going to believe that until you tell me otherwise alright?”

“Alright.” You say, trying to convince yourself to smile. It’s easy when Hobi is looking at you like that. It's a nice day, you should enjoy it without worrying.

But the worry is hard to let go of.

Jin's endless chatter is the companion to your quiet. "Joonie- did we pack the watermelon? Did anyone see my SPF 70? Jungkook- do not run down the stairs, you remember what happened when you slipped and you skinned your knee? that goes the same for you too Hobi! Yoongi did you remember your sun top? Where did I put my sunglasses- thank you, baby.” Yoongi hands them over, dark hair glistening shiny, and healthy under the sun.

Tae wears a big pink sunhat and you wear a black one, sparing your shoulders from the sun, although they’ve been dotted and smeared with sunscreen too. Although the pack omega made each and every one of you line up for another layer of sunscreen and morning kisses before getting into the car you know today will leave you with tan lines no matter how many times Jin asks you to re-apply.

Especially when it comes to swimming.

The ocean hovers, stretching to the end of the world. The tide is still high but turning. A storm surge from a few days back has left even the waves aggressive at low tide. “Buddy system- Jungkook, you’re not allowed to go out on your-” Jungkook ignores Jin’s griping, dashing out into the hot sand. Jimin and Hobi and Tae hot on his heels.

The pack files down the steps, toting woven chairs and tasseled umbrellas, Yoongi’s face looks several shades lighter than normal from the sheer amount of sunscreen that he’s applied. He grumbles and hugs a big 2-gallon jug of water and lemon slices to his chest. But Jin is a professional. Each of them hold one fishing rod a peice, a small tackle box between the two of them is all that they need.

From the bottom of the steps, Namjoon waits.

He smiles up at you. You’re taking the steps slowly, one at a time in your squeaky plastic flip-flops hugging the big woven beach blanket to your chest. Jungkook Jimin and Hobi are already chasing each other across the sand, halfway to the ocean. You watch Jungkook dive, all but tackling Jimin up and over the dunes, Hobi valiantly comes to the other alpha’s rescue, but it’s no use, the three of them go rolling and tumbling. You can see the sand in Jungkook’s dark hair from here.

Namjoon smiles at you from the bottom steps, switching from holding the packs cooler with two hands to one, he offers you his hand wordlessly tugging the cooler behind him while you walk. Waiting for you to take off your flip-flops and hook them through his fingers so that you don't have to hold them.

Namjoon and you trail behind, the pack alpha going slow for you. Your hat nudges his shoulder. Yoongi and Jin walk a few paces ahead, bickering like an old married couple about the place you'll set up shop, matching rings on their fingers, bound between the two of them even if they’re both carrying too much. They still hold hands.

The rings are a new development, simple silver bands for the two of them, a tiny diamond on Jin's. You don’t know when it exactly started to come up in conversation (shortly after you'd drunkenly announced that you wanted to marry Tae maybe, although that was months ago at this point) but somewhere along the last 4 months, they've both started to wear them every day. One morning you’d woken up to Yoongi grumbling about ring sizes, that all the nitrogen from the day before was making his fingers feel too swollen for it.

You're hardly surprised.

They’re just testing it out, just making sure to see if they even like wearing them. Is it even a real marriage if they haven't filled out the paperwork and don't want to do anything like a ceremony? Does starting to wear rings even matter when Yoongi and Jin have already been semi-married in everything but paperwork for nearly all of their adult lives?

You’d known sort of from the beginning that Yoongi had always planned on marrying Jin, regardless of the mating mark. Maybe it would bother you more if you weren't fully planning on marrying Tae one day.

But with that you're going slow. Like today, you're in no rush.

Just like you plan on marrying Tae, just like you're sort of already mated to Hobi- regardless of the fact that you'll never bite him and he'll never be able to bite you. The feelings are still there.

You’d talked about it with Yoongi shortly after your heat. Alone, just the two of you cuddled up together late one night in the nesting pod after a bit of pack revelry. you can still hear everyone upstairs if you listen hard enough, spilling from the upstairs windows. The windows open to allow in a stray sun-warmed breeze. The weather shifting, the season changing and another summer is on its way.

"It feels like something I need to do before I finish the house. You know? Like it doesn't make sense to finish the house and not be married to Jin inside of it."

"This sort of feels like you're breaking up with me."

Yoongi had rushed to reassure you before he'd clocked your teasing expression. that really- you were just joking. he'd bent over you, and you'd put your foot flat to his stomach and pushed playful. A little tipsy, a little silly.

"Does that mean i can ask you out again if we're broken up?"

"Why don't you ask your husband first!"

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a full year since the pack moved in and yet, the empty champagne bottles on the floor linger gathering condensation. Tae had pushed you to celebrate it. The house is almost nearly complete too- there are only a dozen or so odd tasks that Yoongi has yet to do, picking a color for the exterior of the house being one of them.

They linger on the edge of his to-do list, so unimportant when it comes to the regular responsibilities of the pack beta. Like taking Jungkook to work, cooking dinner and doing the shopping, taking Noodle to his vet and grooming appointments, and picking Namjoon up after his night shifts (of which there are thankfully few).

And edit Tae's novel.

It’s almost complete but in need of serious serious review. She’d asked you first, but you’d read it, cried, and deemed it a complete masterpiece a welcome compliment but not exactly what she’d been looking for. Tae's sensitive heart cannot take much criticism, especially for something so close to her soul. But Yoongi and Jin are gentle enough.

Jimin, Namjoon, and Hobi had all asked to read it as well. And had whined and tried to barter when she told them that they'd need to wait to read the finished product.

You have a feeling that might have to do with the main character and the love interest. The love interest is a bit of all of them- although you confess you can’t read it without picturing Hobi or Jungkook in their slot.

But for today everything can wait. Editing books and chapters. Words and confessions. Everything can wait in the wake of a beach day. It's so rare that no one has to work, on a weekday no less. Jimin’s off from his bodyguarding, Jungkook doesn’t have another client or class scheduled until two days from now, and Namjoon’s next day of work isn’t until then either. You guess it’s just really you, Jin, Tae, and Yoongi who are regularly without anything to do these days.

Although that might be changing soon.

You’d submitted your application over a month ago, and yet, there has been nothing, no rejection or confirmation. No nothing. Although you’ve gone out and gotten the mail every morning without fail. Hobi is always reassuring you that there is still time, and that even if you don’t get in this cycle there’s always next semester.

Yeah, you’d taken his advice and applied for culinary school. You talk through it all the time, late at night on a drive, over lunch when you bring it to the flower shop after he forgets it at home again, after Jungkook's early morning walk/runs.

“As much as I hate to point it out but becoming a baker will mean that you’ll have to wake up like- really early every day. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You’d whined and flopped down into the nest on top of Hobi, shuffling to the side to get your body all aligned up against the pack omega. Still Half-asleep, glasses askew, Yoongi already carrying three cups of coffee up the stairs, steaming good.

“I know- I know," Although the rest of the pack defaults to being encouraging, Hobi is the only one who asks questions like this. "I don’t know if I’m like- so focused on the results or that I just want to go to school in general but-"

He'd grinned at you. "You want it too bad for it to matter."

"Yeah…I think I do. Even if I don't even like do anything with it after. It would be nice to like- understand why I can't make a fucking souffle."

"You're the shame of the regimen."

"What do your superiors do with you." (Tae made you watch Pride and Prejudice again a week ago and you've been quoting it back and forth since then.)

Wanting something enough to try for it is strange for you. It feels strange to have a dream after so many years of straight survival. But the pack isn’t really hurting for money these days, what with your old penthouse sold to the highest bidder and the dizzying sum put into stocks and bonds that pay out at regular intervals.

It's more than enough to make your taxes and utilities and even have a good bit left over at the end of every month. You're not really involved with it, Jin and Yoongi handled all of it. The sale, the business with the realtor, and property in Manhattan always goes for a lot, even with a burnt-up top floor.

It's a strange thing, but you honestly don’t even have to think about money anymore. No one in the pack does.

Although that’s not what’s making you quiet.

Your slowness right now has nothing to do with your and Tae's rendezvous earlier. If anything, you might be worse if it wasn't for her. You have that vaguely disgruntled look that Jimin gets when he's overstimulated today. Like your skin isn't fitting right, or your hair is pressing in from all sides. It's not overstimulation- not exactly.

Your thoughts are still somewhere too slow for summertime. Dripping and melting slowly like ice cream. By the time you get over the hill, Hobi is wearing Tae's sunhat and Jimin is holding her flip-flops. Jungkook is walking backward several paces in front of them. Saying something that makes Jimin throw one of Tae's flip-flops at him.

Jungkook takes it and runs. Tae's pink sunhat goes fluttering in the breeze and the three of them chase after him until they drop their towels and bags in a spot that Jin and Yoongi deem alright enough and continue their pell-mell puppy tumble to the ocean, Tae's pink flipflop nearly gets taken by the sea but Jungkook dives for it.

"Help me set up the umbrella?" Yoongi asks, touching your arm gently. You nod, happy to have some shade in the bleeding sunlight. You hold it still while Jin fluffs out the beach blanket and Namjoon sets up the chairs, and when you're finished and Namjoon sits in the camping chair, Jin and Yoongi meander their way towards the shoreline, still holding hands both of them covered to the wrist.

"They look like a pair of grandmas."

Namjoon looks up at Yoongi and Jin and grins, "Yeah they do."

You plop down on the blanket just next to him and Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you don't want a chair?"

"I'm sure."

Namjoon spends a long moment looking at you, but you're not paying attention to him. You watch Jimin spin Tae in the sea spray, her dress twirling with him, she holds around his neck until he puts her down, pulling her dress over her shoulders too. Jimin runs it back to your things, grinning at you and ducking low to kiss your forehead then Joonie’s mouth.

You still watch Tae, mouth a little turned down as you watch her. taking in the way her shoulders hunch, the way she looks down at her body and then up at Jimin.

Joonie makes a noise and Jimin ruffles his buzz cut before darting back to Tae with a giggle. you watch tae straighten up before he gets back over to her. The pack alpha shakes his head. Tae has crossed her arms over her chest, but she’s still smiling at Jimin.

Tae has always been better than you are at pretending that nothing is wrong.

The ocean is speckled with people, brightly colored swimsuits, and beachballs. You’re glad you came on a weekday because there aren't too many people here. It's not crowded. From a distance, the Ferris wheel turns slow and when you listen you can almost hear the Jingle of the carousel mixing with the screech of the gulls.

You know that later there will be fried dough and milkshakes up on the pier and a walk on the boardwalk later. You should be more excited for that, you love fried dough and you’ve been meaning to try and make your own for the longest time.

Jin is quick to call Jungkook and Jimin back for more sunscreen and to take off his clothes before he gets them wet. Really he's getting a little ridiculous with it. Jungkook and Jimin strip the rest of their clothes until there's little left beyond a tiny red Speedo.

It causes more than a few groans. Your mate looks away, laughs, then looks back.  "Jungkook-" "Really Koo-"

"What? I wanted to match the pup!" That actually gets a laugh out of you. You touch his knee and Jungkook smiles down at you, winks, and bounds off in the direction of Tae and Jimin. 

Tae looks gorgeous running through the water, her hair quickly during dark from the salt water. Both of them tug your mate into the water when he dares to come too close and it's seconds before Yoongi sinks a Jungkook-shaped necklace wrapped around his shoulders to pull him to sea. Yoongi puts up a valiant fight you can hear his "yah!" from here.

Jimin isn’t far behind. Getting more than a few looks as he wets his hair and flips in back. You find it hard to look at Jimin and Tae actually. Flustered. Hobi is already 50 feet down the beach, head lowered to look for things that have washed up. Headphones barely visible at this distance. You didn’t want to walk down the beach today with him, too tired.

And it’s so hot.

You sigh, Namjoon is already flipping through his book (fiction for a change- probably one of Tae's recommendations if you had to guess from the ballgown on the front.) You watch as Hobi becomes a dot on the horizon.

You sort of wish that you’d gone with him after a few minutes. You alternate between watching him become smaller and smaller, and watching Tae, Jungkook, and Jimin roughhouse in the water while Yoongi and Jin stand in knee-high waves, keeping an eye on them and talking. Still holding hands. Mostly just making sure nothing happens.

You know the pack is always worried, always just a little bit extra watchful of Jungkook on beach days. It’s always a risk, having him go out and swim. But someone's always nearby. If anything happened, if he started having a seizure, the rest of the pack wouldn’t be that far away. He's never had a seizure in the water before but it's always a risk. Jungkook doesn't act like he's nervous whatsoever, pushing off from the bottom when the big waves come and diving where they break, cutting through the water like it's effortless.

You feel a little too tired to share in their worry today.

The pack has picked up on it of course, that there is something wrong with you today. That something is turning you quiet and a little bit grumpy. There are only so many forehead kisses and reassurances that they you can give before you sort of have to come to them for help. Tae at least had tried this morning. And while you hadn’t not enjoyed your rendezvous…

Namjoon opens up the cooler. Offering you a piece of watermelon. You decline it.

“Do you want some water?”

“No Joonie.” You cover your feet with sand. Wiggling your bright red toes up through it before covering them again.

"How about an ice cream?”

You snort. “It’s not even noon.” You find a little pink shell in the sand, sun-bleached, and you balance it on Namjoon's knee. The pack alpha watches you line it up with others you find searching through the sand. You'll show Hobi when he gets back.

“I won't tell Jin if you don't, we could walk and get some for everyone?” he offers. Folding his book to the side. Index finger keeping his place.

“They’d melt and I’m still full of breakfast.” Hobi had made French toast this morning, sticky and yummy and melty with how good it was. Your lips are stuck in a pout, and you school your expression into something neutral the second you realize.

Namjoon gets barely another paragraph under his belt before he's trying again. “Are you sure you don’t want to join the others in the water?”

“No Joonie,” You nudge his novel with your elbow, “Read your book.”

“We could get you some lemonade or something else from the boardwalk? It’s kind of hot out you know, you should be careful of heatstroke.”

“Joonie-”

“Pup.”

Namjoon folds his book in half again, raising an eyebrow at you. You know he’s asking you to tell you what’s wrong without actually doing it. An invitation if ever there was one.

The cool ocean breeze tickles your forehead comforting. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re a little grumpy this morning, or do you want me to wait until noon until I start to actually try and cheer you up?”

"You are cheering me up."

A look at your phone tells you noon is about 40 minutes away, and the temptation to wallow is there but-

You pull up the hem of your long skirt. Green and yellow and embroidered, Tae got it for you special just for today, it was wrapped in gauzy paper this morning at the end of the settee in the dressing room. One for herself already hanging in your shared closet. You like matching with Tae- you always do, but-

She looked so good in hers, and you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t look the same on you- your legs too short and stubby, your arms, just a little too pudgy when you turn to the side. You don't pick yourself apart in the mirror nearly as bad as you used to. And it's stupid, because you know she probably thought the exact opposite about how it fit you. You’d seen it just briefly, the way that her eyes had fixated on your chest and then quickly looked away.

You don’t make Tae feel dysphoric often but you hate it when you do.

She'd noticed you noticing, and then in the best way she knew how she'd distracted you from your own feelings and let you know just how delectable she found you in your bikini and dragged you downstairs into the kitchen-

Ugh, today might be a good day if you could only get over it. You might be happy to spend it here, lounging with the pack alpha but it’s also a bad day too.

You kneed the sand with your feet. And Namjoon waits for you to speak, recognizing that you’re working through it. You bury your head in your knees, skin pressed to skin, holding around your calves tight.

"I thought I’d have more time, when the weather started to change and Tae and I started looking at bikinis. All of them were just so small and I’m so big now.”

“Pup, you’re perfect,” You can tell Namjoon means it.

“I know, I just want to feel more comfortable.” you say it like you don’t really believe it. Steamrolling past the pack alpha before he has a chance to argue with you. To pry. “I ordered a one-piece and I know that but-” you tug your knees to your chest, feet sandy, flipflops discarded. Pink. Tae's matching ones are a few sizes larger and not far, resting in the sand.

“But I also don’t want anyone to look at the scars on my back.”

A gull squawks and Jungkook giggles as he gets up on Jin's shoulders. tae is already perched on Jimin's, playing a game of chicken. An extra large wave hits them from the side and they both go tumbling. Laughing and falling into the salt water. Yoongi smiles from his spot with his fishing pole, screwing with his line and then Jin's, getting them set up. Namjoon drops his book to the side.

“Ah. So that’s what it is.”

“It doesn't bother me when you guys see them but-“

You look at the waves instead of at him. And you realize it honestly hadn’t occurred to him that that might be the reason why you’re nervous, why you’re off today. You hadn’t really realized it either, not until you caught Tae looking at them this morning and then Hobi.

You look at the ocean, and then back at Namjoon. He folds his book and puts it away. Beneath his big body, the beach chair creeks. You lay your head against the sun-bleached wood of the arm rest. His fingers naturally find themselves in your hairline, rubbing at your temple. You don’t know how he knew that you’ve got a headache but the relife is near instant.

“It’s not that I’m even that self-conscious of them.” You say after a moment. You don’t think about it at all when it’s just the pack when it’s just the eight of you. You don't feel nervous when you're walking around in a bra with Tae or in a bandeau and a pair of Jungkook’s sweats when he eventually badgers you into stretching in the sunroom. You never think about them when it's days like that.

“If anyone looks, I can tell them off for you.”

“No, you don’t need to, I just-” You watch a little kid and his friends toss a ball to each other, getting too close to the waves until it's swallowed by the seafoam, Jungkook is close to it. He gets it for them before it has a chance to get swept out for sea. They scream and crowd him. You get it- all little kids sort of love Jungkook.

“I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s you guys who did that to me, I don’t want anyone to look and wonder how it happened.”

You think of it, the scar, the sharpness of a knife, your face under Geumjae’s boot. It doesn’t bother you to remember it anymore. All the pain from it is so far away. But anger has a habit of sticking around.

“It doesn’t matter to me, if it matters to you, I understand, but I don’t care what strangers think about us, not anymore.” You feel warm at that, that the pack alpha doesn’t care about his reputation so long as you know who he is. The content of his heart and soul, or whatever.

“It matters to me just- I hate them, I hate having them.” You bury your hands in the sand to hide that they’re trembling and this time, when Namjoon passes you a slice of watermelon you take it from him.

"Come with me to get ice cream?"

"Did you only suggest it earlier because you wanted to get some?"

"Yeah," he admits, he gets up from the chair. Hand out, waiting.

You put your palm against his and he pulls you to your feet. "Okay, only if I can get mint chocolate."

His face goes sour, “pup-” you laugh and down the beach, Hobi picks his head up from looking down, pockets heavy with sea glass, listening to the sound of it on the wind and smiles.

Your hands stay like that, tangled together between the both of you. Now that you're talking about it, it's hard to stop.

“At first, I was so disgusted with myself that I’d let someone do that to me. You know I didn’t fight back until the end, not really, not until Yoongi.” Namjoon hums, and lets you vent. Let’s you talk it through as you walk up the steep steps. You know he knows all of this but you want to vent.

“I spent so long thinking I deserved it, wondering if I did, and trying to convince myself that I didn’t. I still don’t know if deserving has anything to do it. But after I stopped wondering, I just got angry.”

The sun beats down, burning the sand and bleaching the earth slowly, leaching the color out of everything, the seashells, Namjoon’s eyes, the grey strands in his hair. Everything. “I got angry at me, and then at him, and then at myself again because I couldn’t punish him.”

Your feet thump up onto the boardwalk, staccato. Namjoon pauses so you can put on your pink flip-flops. You know he doesn't want you to get splinters. “Do you still want to punish him?”

“No.”

You realize how true it is, you really, don't think you want revenge anymore. “I just want to let go of all of it and start again, I just want it to not matter anymore. I don’t care about it and I’m not ashamed of what he did to me because that’s his shame to bear now. Even though he's dead."

"But I still don’t how to let it go. I still have the scars. I don’t want to hold onto all this rage and grief and fear anymore. I woke up angry, and I'm trying to let go of it, that's why I'm grumpy.”

Namjoon’s voice is so deep, that it’s almost hard to hear over the crash of the waves. “I don’t know how you let go of it, I don’t know how to grow. Change is of course natural and you can't avoid it- but I think healing is different for each person. Some people just need love and care, and some people need a fire lit underneath them. I won’t sell you a false promise because I don’t know if it’s possible for everyone to heal. Brains aren't like bodies.”

Namjoon pauses, and he glances at you tentatively, like he’s not sure he’s supposed to say what he wants to. The second you clock the look you want to know what he’s thinking. He must guess it from your face because he soldiers on.

“But you’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it. you don't understand how rare it is, how special you are to have gone through so much and still be gentle. Your anger doesn't take that away. Not to me."

“Oh, uhm- thanks?”

"And I think if you weren’t healing, we’d know.” Namjoon still has the tacky feeling of sunscreen- probably from spreading it on Tae's shoulders. When he touches your cheek, tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. Eventually, you say,

“I don’t want anything about me to be violent anymore. I think I’ve earned it.”

“You have,” Namjoon says. You need it, the permission to be this way, permission to be peaceful after fighting for so long. There is no joy in this trying, there is no satisfaction in trying to get better if you can’t have peace.

So, what if life gets a little boring eventually? It's better than things being painful all the time. You have your coffee; you go to the beach with the people you love. What will the unblemished skin of your back feel like when the scars are gone?

You want to know. You realize it then, that you wish you didn't have them. That not having them would be easier. You want a new body, you want a new life, or maybe not a new one- But the same one just different, without all the pain and anguish and struggle.

When you look back at the pack, they’re nothing but dots among the ocean. Your heart pangs when you realize you can’t pick out Tae.

Namjoon squeezes your hand. “What are you worried about?”

“Tae's feeling dysphoric today, it’s kind of odd that we’re so in sync don't you think? I’m feeling like shit about my body and what’s been done to it, and she’s feeling like shit because hers won’t love her right.”

Namjoon tips his head. “I noticed. How do you think we could help?”

The pack alpha is asking you how to care for another member of your pack, and you wish you knew better how to say it. How to explain what tae needs. You feel so fragile today, you’re not sure you could help but- loving Tae is easy for you. Loving Tae has always felt like breathing.

“I don’t know. Probably just braid her hair and tell her she looks lovely. Support her. You’re good at doing that. You don’t need my help.”

Namjoon kicks at the boardwalk, “I wonder if it will ever not matter to her if she’ll ever truly reclaim her body and make it what she wants. Do you think she should stop trying? That she should stop wearing dresses, even if it never makes her feel the way she wants it to?”

“No, never, Tae should always try. I love her and I just want her to be okay.”

Namjoon takes your hand, turning it over tracing a scar on the back of your hand. It's a burn scar, one of the ones you gave yourself back when you wanted hurt because you didn’t know how to make everything stop hurting. It makes sense- in a recursive sort of way.

“Then I think you can try to let it go, and if it doesn’t work the first time or the second or the third you just try again. You can try, even if you think you’ll fail. If Tae deserves it then you deserve it too.”

“Sometimes all I want is a do-over, sometimes all I want is a new life. I've wasted so much time being sad-”

Namjoon drops your hand and then holds it out. Smiling brightly in that what that only the pack alpha can, dimples and all. His tone switches from serious to goofy so quick that it gives you whiplash “My name's Kim Namjoon, it's nice to meet you, what's yours?”

“Joonie.”

His eyes are teeming with mirth, the kind of goofiness that Namjoon only really has when he’s one-on-one. You won’t do him the disservice of thinking that he’s only this goofy with you. You know he acts this way with the others too.

But when it's all of you together Namjoon is always counting heads and bending down to tie loose shoelaces. He's not silly like this. He's your caretaker and your confidant, your pack alpha, and sort of your dad in the best kind of non-creepy way. You've learned alot from him over the last year, you've grown alot with him.

“I’m here with my pack, I think you’d really like them. Especially my girl, Tae.” He bumps his shoulder into yours and you giggle. He holds the door to the ice cream shop open for you with a faint jingle.

"Can I have your maraschino cherry?"

"Yeah. You can even eat the others too and I won't tell. I’m getting an extra sugar cone too."

"Deal." You don't end up getting mint ice cream at all, the strawberry gram cracker is too tempting for you. You're ladened with them when you're on your way back, the shop has these special little insulated cups to keep the ice cream cold, but it's still in danger of melting.

Namjoon is a little quieter, that might just be from the sheer amount of ice cream that both of you hold and the concentration it takes to avoid spilling it. You've got a strawberry milkshake for Tae, a peanut butter scoop and split for Jin, something with caramel for Yoongi that Namjoon thought he'd like, and fish-shaped samanco for Jimin and a chocolate covered banana for Jungkook. The whipped cream and cherries hardly make it off the boardwalk.

But you sense there's something more to it, that there is something more to Namjoon's quiet than simple concentration.

So, before you get back to the others you pause, sun beating down, ice-cream melting. "If you want to say something Joonie, just say it."

His eyes are heavy-lidded. "I know you doubt your progress, but you are getting better. I think with healing, it's either heal now, heal later, or heal never. And while I don't think you're wasting any time at all because healing isn't a waste, but-" Namjoon takes a deep breath, looking at you, unable to tear your eyes away,

"I'm really really glad you decided to heal now, because I get to spend a lot more time with you and I like spending time with you. I'll hash this out with you as many times as you need me too because I love you."

"Oh," you blink at him, at the sun, trying not to cry, pausing in the sand. Namjoon looks a little alarmed that you've stopped walking.

"The ice cream is melting."

You ignore him, you can’t pull him close because you’re holding too many ice creams. So you just demand "Come here." It takes a bit of juggling on his part but he leans down and kisses you. A bit of whipped cream ends up in the sand, but you'll just tell Jin that you ate his instead.

You already ate the cherry on top anyway.

"Oh! They're back!"

The pack is towling themselves off, with sandy bottoms and wet heads. You grin as Yoongi excitedly tells you that he's gotten 2 nibbles on his fishing rod, two! At this rate you'll be having fish for dinner. Even Jin has let himself be dunked, and you disseminate the ice cream to everyone with thank you side hugs and thank you kisses.

No one comments that all the cherries are missing.

Tae flops down next to you and then Jimin on the other side competing for the shade. "Oooh strawberry." "Can I try a spoonful of yours?" Jimin asks, then hums, eyeing it, "We can switch if you want Minnie." You offer before he can pout. "Oh, really? You don't care?" you shrug, you don't mind red bean. It sort of always reminds you of Yoongi and Jin since they like it so much. You trade back and forth and then.

"Hobi's back too!"

A smile stretches your face before you’ve even caught his scent in the air. When you look up Hobi has his hair held back by his sunglasses and his headphones are looped his neck. Pockets round and hands full, looking freckly already. "You didn't go far?"

"Yeah, got too hot" Hobi grins dropping to his knees on the beach blanket. "And besides I got a lot."

"Oh show!"

He dumps out his sea spoils while you lick ice cream off of your spoon and nibble at Jimin’s Samanco. Oohing and aahing over his chunks of glass and pretty shells. And he takes a nibble when you offer him one, but only a bite before he relents-

"It's so hot, I wanna go swim. You haven't been yet? Wanna come?" Your hands are sticky and your mouth goes dry. But before you can tell him no Namjoon is already taking off his shirt, jumping when Jungkook's hands get a little pinchy at the gentle chub around his waist. "Here, you can wear this-"

Oh, it's perfect. You take off your dress and you miss the heavy knowing glances between Jungkook and Jin and the hungry way Jimin's eyes flicker up from your waist to your face, the way that Tae can hardly look at you. Yoongi taps Jungkook on the shoulder when he reaches to squeeze and give you the same treatment Namjoon got, shaking his head imperceptibly. You have your back to it so you don't see.

You are this way; taken care of even when you are unaware of it and loved even when it is not seen. The pack knows that what you need today is not any more of that sort of attention. Tae gave you enough earlier. They watch, wink, and linger. Unseen by you. Does love matter any less if you don’t know it?

You put Namjoon's shirt on and it falls just below your hip. It's worn at the shoulders. A hole in the hem that Jimin hooks his finger into experimentally. Making a deep hum in his mouth around the sugar and sweet. The texture has passed your pickiest alpha's inspection. Perfect. No one asks why you feel the need to wear it or why Namjoon offers it up.

Jin immediately reaches for the tube of sunscreen and starts spreading it on Namjoon's shoulders, leaning against the pack alpha's back when he's done and resting his chin on the top of Namjoon's head.

Namjoon tilts his face up, pressing a quick kiss under Jin's jaw. Licking his lips and grimacing. "You taste like sunscreen hyung."

"I'm going to ignore that because when I'm fifty I'll be pretty and wrinkle and skin cancer free and you'll be even more grey." Namjoon turns, touches his hip fondly, and then glances to you.

“i'm sticky, I’ll come with.” Namjoon doesn't offer you the choice, he makes the decision for you and you're so thankful you don't know how to say it. You finish your ice creams and when Hobi takes your hand, you let him pull you up and into the water. You let him tug you until you're running the last few feet before you and the ocean collide. Cold, but just right, just what you need underneath the heat. Jungkook runs with you too, barreling through the waves.

Yoongi and Jin walk down to where there aren't many swimmers and more rocks, casting out their lines. Glimmering when they catch the light properly. Leures hurdling through the air to land with a plop.

The hem of Namjoon's shirt is just turning wet when he tells you. "You know, the human body and the sea have roughly the same salinity."

You don’t feel like that strong of a swimmer, at least not like Jungkook who cuts through the waves like it’s nothing. Like he's a part of the ocean, salinity or nothing. Namjoon is close behind, Hobi too, back to the waves, the red of his hair catching the sunlight. Tae comes in but goes back to the shore just as fast. Tossing her wet dark hair over her shoulder, ringing it out. And you know she’s probably going to want to do a hair mask later.  Jimin stands on the shore, watching you, waiting for Tae.

the sea foam glitters in the sun bobbing and tumbling, lost to the waves. A cold wave of water crashes against Namjoon’s back as he and Hobi lead you to deeper water until your feet just barely brush the bottom.

“Just kick pup. I've got you." You breathe, letting the water wash over you, ducking and closing your eyes, bracing yourself for it as it hits you. But Namjoon holds onto you so that when you rise up, you're still right next to him.

Something light and fast, silvery in the water slithers past you and you jump, clinging to him.

"Joonie! Joonie! Something slimy hit me! Namjoon!"

You cling to his shoulders and he laughs. His strong hand splays against your back. "It's just a fish!" Hobi calls.

"A fish! Where?" Jungkook dives, looking around under the water. Where did he even get goggles? You cling to Namjoon's front, his body warm in the cold water. "Do you wanna get out?" He asks, dimples curved.

"Yeah, just let me dunk." Namjoon holds onto you as you go under, keeping you steady. For a moment all you can feel is the pull of the ocean, the way that the tide is shifting, pulling you out to sea too. Namjoon's hands remain on your arm.

When you rise up there are fingers against your cheeks wiping away the water before it has a chance to get in your eyes. It's Hobi, holding you as you bob. You're so much shorter than them. They get to stand just before the break whereas you have to tread water.

They help you time it right but you manage to avoid getting tumbled by the next crashing wave and when you turn your back to the ocean, you spot them there.

Jimin and Tae stand by the edge of the ocean a good 20 feet from your umbrella. The roar of the waves is so loud that you can’t hear exactly what they’re saying. But you can see Tae's mouth move, the upset lilt to her smile that falters. The way Jimin’s lips are turned down as he says what he wants to say. Standing close the way that lovers do.

He says something then entwines their hands tentatively, like he’s not sure he should. His shoulders are already turning freckly under the sun, the same as Tae's. Like little bits of summer trapped there against their skin.

They have new freckles, you have new stretch marks, and Namjoon has new grey hairs. Your mouth turns down into a frown the longer you watch them.

You watch Jimin reach up and wipe at tae's cheek, watch it as he says something that makes her shoulders shake, that makes him pull her tight against his front.

Your white shirt speckled with sand. Still damp from the ocean water as you splash through the waves to get to them. Tae smiles at you before you get there, eyes glassy. She doesn't do anything to hide the fact that she's been crying just a little as you effortlessly fold yourself into her side Jimin's arm trapped under your ribs.

You watch her smile falter. She hasn't been crying too much, just a tear or two, And she leans down to peck your forehead. Her skin is hot to the touch. Warm.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, quiet and know, it's somewhat of a lie. Jimin looks from you to her, and you sense some special small conversation going on like whatever they were talking about before you came over has been touched on just by you being there.

Tae looks down at you, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No. Why?” Your hands go hard on her waist easily, because you hardly come up to Tae's sternum. You happen to know that she likes it when you grab her waist, but something that usually makes her squirm in a good way right now has no effect.

Maybe you respond too quick for her, because Tae looks at you under her lashes. “For this morning, did you-" did you not want it, did I misinterpret? Did I give you attention that you did not want? Would you tell me if I was loving you wrong?

Jimin squeezes her shoulder and you watch Tae brace herself for what you might say, “Tae,” you smile up at her, blushing just thinking about it, scent sweeting as you remember this morning. You can tell that both of them can smell it by the way that they straighten up and adjust their stance. Alphas.

"Tae I would have told you- I’m not- I’m not like that.” Anymore you don’t say.

Her dark hair is curling against her cheek, all of her salty and soggy. Tae looks like just wearing her bikini is making her ache. Like just standing here next to you is hurting. She sighs, Jimin loops his arms around her waist with you. His voice is deep and rough. “Tell her, you know she makes it better.” He mumbles the words against her shoulder.

“Minnie and I were talking about me getting a boob job. Since my boobs aren’t growing anymore, I've been at the max dose on my estrogen for like 3 months and there's still been no change."

You perk up a little at that, eyes bright. “Oh? That’s awesome, 10/10 should, totally agree.”

But the words don't soothe Tae, if anything, her shoulders just get closer to her ears as she hunches them making herself look and feel small. “But it’s expensive and it's like- not a necessary surgery like- it’s extra? Right? I can wear a push-up bra and inserts it’s not like-”

“Tae” you cut her off, and you can tell really this is what’s been bothering her. “Do you want it?” Tae looks down at you.

“Yes.”

“Would it make you feel better? Would it make you feel more girl?”

“Yes.”

You wipe away the wetness on her lash line with a thumb. “Then it’s not too much. What you need is never too much.”

"You wouldn't be like, nervous if I did?" You can tell that nervous isn't what she means.

"Maybe for your health but-" This isn't really helping, Tae is just getting more frustrated, her words failing her such a rare thing. You sigh, taking her hand in yours and you sense a little that none of this, none of Tae's anxiousness is about your approval. Not really.

She reaches down and fusses with her bikini and Jimin looks like he wants to say something. "What's got you so worried? Tae, what's wrong?"

Tae looks up at you and then back down. “But, I’m being so not a girls girl."

"Don't care, tell me."

"But are you sure?"

"Tae"

"Fuck pup, you look so good in yours and I just look- I feel gross. I feel all wrong and I look at you and sometimes it just- comparing myself to you isn't fair to you." Tae closes her eyes turning to Jimin, “Can I wear your shirt?”

Jimin has it off before she’s even really finished her sentence. His miles and miles of skin and muscles are even more alluring under the sun. His hair shimmers like it’s burnished gold underneath it too. Jimin is always sort of golden. He's always sort of stunning.

"I don't like feeling jealous of you. It doesn't feel good, it doesn't feel right. I’ve been mad at myself all morning for it" she tells you. And it sort of makes you want to laugh but in a good way.

“Tae, I’m jealous of you all the time.”

She looks up sharply, “really?”

“Yeah like, whenever you put your hair in rollers and you do the back perfect on the first try, or when you string words together or when you get out of bed and you put on your dresses and makeup like it’s nothing. I'm jealous of how much you want it. You make being a girl look effortless when it's given me nothing but trouble. And then I wander out of the nest room and I look like Adam Sandler half the time and you guys do a good job of pretending I look cute instead of like a gremlin.”

“You do look cute. You're a cute little gremlin.” Jimin says.

“You look like your sweaters are swallowing you.” Her tone is scandalized. Like she can't even believe you're saying that about yourself.

Jimin nods, “You just like being comfy like me. I like it when you're comfy especially when you wear Joonie’s worn clothing and it's like-” Jimin shivers happily and you laugh.

"That was like- so autistic of you Minnie."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like it when you say how you’re feeling that way I know you’re not having grumpy alpha time.”

“You don’t have to call it that.”

“Well, I could go with ‘Jimin looks so overstimulated he looks like he’s gonna punch someone’ time but 'grumpy alpha time' sounds cuter.” Jimin is looking awfully red, and you suspect it has nothing to do with a potential sunburn.

Tae shakes her head, still sort of angry with herself, This might be the closest you've ever gotten to a fight. “It’s not the same, it’s not the same as me being jealous of your body and wishing it was mine.”

“Isn’t it? I’m jealous of the rest of the pack, even the boy stuff sometimes, like- You want boobs but half the time I’m just wondering if my life would have been easier if I was born a boy omega like Jungkook. It’s not the same as you, because it’s not a gender thing but a safety thing. But I’m jealous of him too, you know I can’t even run one single mile and he goes like 5 every morning and he always has energy.”

Jimin snorts, “Everyone’s a little bit jealous of Jungkook.”

“And Jin,” Tae adds, casting a glance over to where they’re both standing, both looking absurdly model esc. They’re both unfairly pretty even for omegas. You always feel a little too grubby if you think about it too hard, but you’re getting over it. In the same way, Tae will eventually get over this too. Namjoon was right earlier when he said that healing takes time, it's going to take Tae a while to heal from being born in the wrong body.

“My point is, does my feeling jealous over it mean I love Jungkook any less? Does that mean I hate him at all?”

“No, you love Jungkook.”

You hold your hand up, splaying, letting the silence pause and the realization dawn on her. “Then why does you wanting my boobs mean you have to feel guilty about it?” Her expression slowly crumples, and she goes from looking nervous to feeling guilty.

she's quiet for a few breathes, and when it's clear to you she's not going to say anything, you fess up.

“I ate the cherry off your ice cream earlier just so you know. I don't feel guilty about it at all and I will do it again, just fyi.”

A laugh forces its way out of Jimin's mouth, and even Tae can't resist a smile and a roll of her eyes.

Obsession and infatuation. Jealousy and love. It’s always been a bit of a tangle with you three. With you, Jimin, and Tae.

Some omegas that are a little too young- probably still in high school glance in Jimin's direction. You do not pull him closer, just pout. But Jimin only has eyes for Tae, and the way his eyes flicker down to yours tells you there’s nothing to fear.

“Oh, we know.” Jimin grins, “I think the only one who was upset about it was Kookie.”

Jungkook bounds over as if summoned by his name, looking gorgeous shaggy-haired, muscled arms rippling. “What are you guys talking about?”

“How jealous we are of you,” you say before Jimin or tae have the chance to. Tae blanches a little like she expects jungkook to be upset but Koo just shrugs.

“Big wop." He tugs on the hem of Joonie’s shirt. Almost pulling you off balance. "I wanna go body surfing again but Hyung’s say I can’t go alone- come with me?” He wraps his arms around your shoulders, dragging the last syllable and batting his eyes. It's too hard to say no to him.

You glance at Tae one final time and she sighs at you. Nods. “I’ll be alright. I just need to think more."

Bodysurfing turns out to be the most fun you've had in months, weeks, years maybe. Jungkook shows you how to do it. One second you feel like you're going to be tumbled in the wave and the next you're hurtling not through the ocean but over it. sliding across the water all the way from where they crash to the shore. Giggling and bubbling in the salt water. hair hanging lank over your face all messy.

“Did you see me!? i was going so fast!” You cry happily, picking yourself up off the wet sand, you'll probably have sand in unmentionable places later but you don't care. Yoongi is standing on his own.

Jin has disappeared somewhere no longer yoongi's shadow. both of their poles sit tip up in the sand. You hardly wait for him to respond before you're back in the water. Dashing back to where the waves are breaking.

“I did but! Be careful!”

The rest of the day passes like that. You walk down the beach with Hobi and find handfuls and handfuls of sea glass. You suntan with Tae (it's more just lounging) and ask Namjoon to read you snippets of his book while Hobi and Jungkook play volleyball. You go to the tide pools after, because Joonie wants to look for crabs.

It doesn't end all that well. It ends with your bloody finger, a fat seagull who is amazingly adept at snatching crabs out of thin air with a full belly thanks to you.

You swear you didn't mean to fling it, it just surprised you. You tell Namjoon as much as he sniffles and wraps a band-aid around your finger. Pierced through by a crab claw (it's nothing more than a paper cut). "I didn't mean to kill it, promise it just startled me."

The rest of the pack contains their snickers. And Namjoon's sniffles reignite. "It's fine, it's okay, it was a big crab anyway probably at the end of it's lifespan." 

Jin disappears, but when he comes back, he's toting several pizza boxes and a liter of soda. Jungkook shows you how to feed your crusts to the seagulls without them biting your fingers. And Jin also brings back a big big bowl of maraschino cherries from the same ice cream parlor as earlier. Red and bright like mini suns.

"I had a feeling you might want more." he teases, but you don't respond with anything more than "I do!"

Jin makes everyone grab one first, but after, he lets you have the rest.

~-~

At home, Tae gently lifts Namjoon's shirt over your head, the house is so noisy- as it often is whenever the whole pack is moving about, in the kitchen Jin and Yoongi are fixing dinner, still in their own perfect little bubble. Two fish already filleted in the sink.

Jungkook is half slumped against the wall, already in the shower. Turning wetter and wetter under the spray, groaning low, “god I love the sting when hot water hits my sunburn.” jimin pinches at that sunburn. there's alot of that going on, pinching.

“You’re such a fucking masochist.”

“Shut up”, he says with a smile. “I've never spanked you before.” He licks his lips, “soon.”

Tae huffs and pulls herself over to him, sudzing up his hair. Jungkook is the only one truly nude. Tae is still wearing her bottoms and so is minnie. You linger. Still in your bikini, a little resistant to getting wet again but working up to it. Jungkook goes to give her tan lines a pinch and you watch her brace herself.

You grab his hands before he has the option too. Your shower with them isn't sexual. Not this one. Not when you're all so sun tired from the day you had at the beach. You're gonna sleep so well later, your whole body aches from body surfing and you have a scrape on your hip that namjoon had frowned at earlier but you don't even care you had so much fun today.

your hands tangle with Jungkook's, "Be careful with her, she's delicate."

"Why? What's going on?" he glances from you to her.

“Tae wants to get a boob job and She's feeling sensitive about her body today,” Tae says nothing, looking from you to Jungkook, measuring his response.

"Oh? Sweet. thanks for letting me know." Tae makes an affronted noise in her throat.

You talk. Back and forth about it. “Are you sure you don’t just like- want it for us? Cuz dang I love boobs-" It’s a fair question, even if it does come off wrong. tae doesn't take it personally, shaking her head.

"It's not like that, i'm just tired of waking up in the morning and not having them, i just- i want to be done with the dysphoria. it's such a pain feeling like this all the time, but what if i like- don't like them? what if thats not going to fix it? and boob jobs are like- so expensive too." Jimin hardly responds with more than a hum. He's been a little bit less verbal than usual since you got home- but no one comments on it, no one prods him to speak.

Namjoon steps into the bathroom, hips swiveling. It's absurdly attractive- the way that Namjoon moves in his body. Leaning down to take off his bathing suit, he's got sand in them, but you don't mind because you also have sand in your bottoms too.

“82 percent of women express satisfaction with their boob job. I looked it up.”

Tae looks surprised then stricken, “you did?”

“Yeah, I wanted to know in case you ever asked for it.” Tae goes quiet, looking at Namjoon over your shoulder. You can feel the string of your bikini digging into your skin. The slight chub under your arms and around your middle. The place where you go soft. You reach behind your back, undoing it. jimin beats you too it, pulling at the string.

"i've got it."

“Oh Joonie- you’ve got tan lines.” He almost trips when he looks up and sees you topless, actually does stumble. He does have tan lines, rimming his hips, cutting across his hip bones. Tae giggles and traces along them. (If Namjoon's cock jumps a little at the touch, no one hassles him for it, you're all too sun tired for sex).

"Are you asking for it? A boob job? Is that something you want?"

"Yes."

“Oh!” Namjoon's eyebrows shoot up, and he glances from her face down to her chest, and then your face down to yours. Going red from ear to ear like he's imagining it. Namjoon scratches at the back of his head, you can hear the sand flop onto the tile floor. Tae takes your bikini and hangs it over the glass door where it drips. Namjoon clears his throat and Tae looks at him.

“Do you want me to make you an appointment on the same day as the pups?"

“What? Are you planning on getting a boob job too?” Tae cups your chest in her hands, and it’s not necessarily sexual, not even when you wrap your arms around her neck. and tug her close enough that your chests squish together.

“No, not that just-” You peck her lips, and she’s already starting to smell better.

“Just the scars, I want them gone. I got all in my head about it and Joonie helped me earlier.”

“Really?” Tae says, glancing from Namjoon to Jimin to Jungkook to you. the boys look a little dazed, a little love-struck as you reach for her bikini straps and paw at them. Namjoon takes it when you hand it to him and hangs it over the glass next to yours. You like it when it's like this, your warm body pressed to her body.

“Yeah- I got all in my head about it too.”

“Our boys are kind of good at fixing that, aren’t they?” You giggle and start to suds her up. Namjoon and Jimin grumble at the teasing, but join in.

~-~

Everything moves fairly quickly for Tae.

Maybe it only happens so fast because having a doctor for a pack alpha makes shit get done, or because Namjoon and Jin have sort of been planning for this for the last few months. It's been in their back pocket and they've been making measurements and taking down names of good doctors since just after Tae came out.

They’re funny like that. Always planning how to make sure the pack has everything they need. Everything that they could possibly want.

It's like that with your scars too.

The pack all insist on coming for her consultation. The room is full, Jungkook has to sit on Yoongi's lap because there isn't a seat for him. You and Tae are knit close together and you stubbornly refuse to let go of her hand with Jimin on the other side.

It had gone well, well enough that Tae had looked up at the doctor, a kind omegan woman in her 50s. All ready with pre-release forms and the final quote. She comes highly recommended, Namjoon even looked over her case files and gave her his stamp of approval.

She specializes in reconstructive surgery, and for some reason, Tae likes that. She likes the idea that she's not adding but restoring her body to what it should be. What it should have been in the first place.

(Tae doesn't believe in God, not anymore. But a small voice whispers in her head about it. About divinity and mistakes. People say God doesn't make mistakes, but if we are made in God's image, then God must also have an awkward phase. She must also make her mistakes; like cancer in children and what happened to you. Like Jungkook's seizures and women like Tae. It's okay to revise a little. To scribble out and rewrite the lines.)

“You mean I don’t have to like, prove it?”

The pack had gone still at the question, scents anxious and stressed, your hand on hers tighter. Readying yourself to whisk her out of here if the answer isn't to your standards.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Just getting here is enough. And besides, I believe you.”

I believe you. It’s strange how 3 words can make you feel so much. Can have such an effect on you. There is a lump in Tae's throat just thinking about it. It's on repeat in her head over and over again, I believe you, I believe you, I believe you. In this moment I exist, in this moment I am believed.

it's silly, because the pack has always believed Tae. she's had proof of that belief in the little things like the omega's putting more pink in the nest and how Yoongi made tae a whole dressing room, and the new pink plates in the kitchen. Your endless trying with her, even when you were too tired to try with everything else. Everything in the house is pink because it's Tae's favorite color. Everything is pink because it makes her happy.

But it feels different to hear it from someone new. Tae doesn’t have to talk about the dysphoria if she doesn’t want to to this doctor. She doesn't have to talk about it at all. About passing and expectations.

She only talks about it with you, only with your heads close under a big sheet. A pillow fort just for two. The light of mid-morning, or the Christmas lights above blocked out. Counting down the days with lipstick in the corner of the vanity mirror. 21 days. 17. 11.

9 days to go for her, and only 2 days to go for you.

There has been a new addition to your vanity too. Pretty delicate packages. Rose-scented tissue paper and golden ribbons, Chanel and Versace and even something called la Perla that you are incredibly unfamiliar with.

Tae always blushes and pushes them into the back of her closet, but not before taking them out of their packages.

The lingerie is Pastel pink, Deep purple, buttery orange, delicate white lace, something almost bridal. Every single color of the rainbow and then some. She's gotten one set every day since the beach day, she's pretty sure Jimin ordered the first one on the drive home.

“Jiminie- you don’t have to spend all of your money on me, and I don't even know what size I'm going to be yet. I know you don’t make as much now, it’s alright, I don’t need all of this." You’d simply clicked your tongue and leveled Tae with a look that was not to be debated or questioned.

“He’s not spending all of his money; he’s spending all of my money. And a bit of Namjoon’s. and Yoongi actually got you that one, not Jimin. I helped him pick it out. ” Yoongi's choice is so feminine it almost makes Tae cry. Pink ribbons and yellow ruffles. Matching garters and buttery soft stockings.

You've never minded being frivolous if it means making Tae happy, making Tae happy is a priceless expense. Paying for her top surgery had been a no-brainer, not something you even had to think twice about or discuss with Yoongi in any overt terms. Like the expenses for the house that come out of the account that you and Yoongi share, the account that receives the dividends from your stocks.

Huh, stocks. You never thought you'd have those.

By halfway through the month, you’re sitting in the upstairs dressing room with Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi draped across each other and the settee in the corner by the window and the door that leads to the deck outside.

There's so much weight on the settee that the legs creek. A very large tray with Jelly silicone implants sit on the vanity. They're only samples. Tae has to return them after she decides. 

Tae is having trouble choosing. Naturally- the pack put in their two cents. It's easy to be casual about it, to talk about C cups and D cups and even double D cups.

But what started out as trying to help her decide exactly which tits to get has turned into everyone getting drunk and dumb. Has turned into the boys trying on those bras and putting the implants inside. The general ridiculousness in the room might have something to do with the 5 (yes 5) bottles of fancier-than-normal champagne discarded and empty around the room.

Namjoon puts a stop to it when Jungkook throws the largest one and hits Hobi square in the stomach. The resounding 'thwap' is almost loud enough that it makes you flinch.

“Wait, are these the ones that are modeled after yours?” Jungkook asks, Yoongi says something into your ear that makes you flush and giggle, and when Hobi tries to come close onto the settee you put your socked foot against his chest and push.

Hobi catches your ankle and fiddles with your sock, thigh high, white, knit. sliding his hand up your calf and tickling under your knee. "It's hard to believe they're like that big"

"Imagine how I feel Jungkook, it feels like carrying around mellons not lemons."

Jungkook scoots to the edge of the settee, "let me try them on." It’s stupid and you feel like a bunch of boys playing with water balloons but Tae doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, she's more comfortable when you're goofy about it. You're just deciding what tit's she's going to have for the rest of her life, no big deal. It's no big deal at all.

Tae is sort of freaking out about it, which is why you're drinking and trying to get her to lighten up. Emphasis on trying.

Tae had asked for implants that would give her a similar side profile and cleavage to yours. But truthfully, after she tried them on… she's going to go with something just ever so slightly smaller and more conical.

You honestly didn’t know there were so many different types of implants or so many different shapes and feels. But this choice matters. She’ll only choose this once so she wants to make the right choice.

The ones your size simply hadn’t looked right when it came to her shoulders- made her look too wide up top.

There's one pair, your pick, that looks a little bit more perky than the ones she initially wanted to go with. And while you understand wanting a natural result…

The horny side of you is sort of winning out. But you are 4 glasses of champagne deep, your judgment is a little impaired.

“We can do back exercises! So that you won’t get rounded shoulders!” Jungkook had excitedly commented when Tae had confessed she was just a little bit worried about how much the ones modeled after yours might weigh on her back.

By midnight, the champagne is gone and Seokjin is mostly asleep. Asleep enough that Jimin’s attention is divided. Earlier there was a moment, Tae wearing them and the lingerie, standing between Jimin’s legs, his arms around her waist, eye level with the implants shoved into one of those bra’s. “Go on tell me they’re too big.”

Jimin had hummed, looking down at them then up at Tae, “will they make you happy?”

“Yes but-”

“Tae, will they make you happy? Yes or no?”

Shifting from foot to foot, eyes flicking down to them, then to the mirror. “Yes but-“

“No buts” he’d said, which had led to you and Jungkook doing a chorus of “butts butts butts!” Sing a song and ridiculous.

Namjoon did try and twerk. Emphasis on try.

“Should we take a vote?”

“It feels like we should take a vote.”

“Okay, but the pup gets two because she actually knows what it’s like to have big boobs.”

You do, your votes written out on scraps of that rose-scented tissue paper. “Jungkook- don’t you dare put down the big ones.”

“But then they’ll match-”

It feels good to do it this way. To help her make a choice that would probably make Tae's head spin, cry, and melt down over choosing the right one. She got close to having a melt down earlier but It's all goofy and silly and light like this. Maybe even the hard things are easy if you're doing them with the right people.

Tomorrow they’ll order the implants, and on Friday Tae will have to get up very very early. She will not eat breakfast, will be driven to the hospital by Jin and Namjoon, and Jimin. You’ll tag along for moral support with Yoongi in a separate car and Hobi and Jungkook will follow later because there’s no real reason why she’ll need all of you there.

The surgery will take Tae around 3 hours, by mid-day she’ll be in post-op and by evening she’ll be home. You get the ground floor bedroom all set up because Tae will be too dizzy to manage the stairs. A bright pink nest with a minimal border so that Tae can get in and out without straining her abdominal muscles too much.

You know to expect bruising, to expect her to be out of it from the anesthesia first and then the drugs. Namjoon will be the only one to sleep in the nest with Tae, although Jin won’t be far and Jimin will eventually decide to sleep on the floor around midnight. Just to make sure she doesn't have to get up for anything.

You'll be buzzing up and down the steps several times through the night to check on Tae, everyone else will too. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are going to go to the store tomorrow to get some recovery foods to help her heal faster.

You put your slips of paper, your votes into the largest bra that Jimin's gifted Tae. You get your two votes, and everyone else gets one. Yoongi cranes his neck to see what you're writing downand you shove at his shoulder playfully.

"No peaking!”

~-~

The pleather gurney is cold beneath your knees as you gently lift yourself onto it, trying not to be nervous. Trying not to be afraid as you lie on your stomach. A breeze makes you shiver through the open back of your hospital gown, bare underneath.

You're cold everywhere, although the numbing cream has already taken effect, carefully smeared over the sensitive scared skin of your lower back by Yoongi. As gentle as ever, rough fingertips rub over skin that will burn in just a few minutes.

He wears stupid small glasses to the side now, designed to block out the light from the laser that will scrape away your scar tissue. He wears lemon yellow ones whereas Jin wears black, and to your side, Namjoon wears red ones- all to protect them as they watch over you. You'd had a good moment of laughter earlier when you'd realized just how ridiculous it made them all look. But any levity in the situation has dissipated now.

Now, you're just nervous.

“It will probably take more than one session to see the results you want, but complete and total removal is definitely possible if you're good with your aftercare.”

The doctor had warned you before you’d started, "she will be. We'll make sure of it" Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had all promised. And you believe them, there is scar cream and a special oil and even a compression vest for later, similar to the one that Tae will wear for her surgery in 4 days' time.

You’ve spent sleepless night after sleepless night talking through it with Namjoon, with Yoongi, with Jin. They’ve all been supportive. It’s all happened relatively quickly- same as Tae's surgery. The second that you’d given Namjoon and Jin the all-clear that you wanted to go through with the plastic surgery to reduce the appearance of the scar on your back they’d expedited the process and gotten you in contact with a world-renowned plastic surgeon who works at Namjoon’s hospital.

He's not the same plastic surgeon working on Tae, no- this one is a specialist in scars, in burns, in places that have been kissed by pain in a way that no skin should ever be. You think he might understand it. The way that you tremble when you get onto the gurney. He's seen the scars, had seen them during the consultation. He had asked very very politely and as gently as possible Whether they were 'situational' wounds or self-inflicted. 

"I've been married- Widowed actually." Had been your only reply.

The doctor hadn't looked at your face, gloved fingers testing the skin around the scar to see how much it stretched. You felt a little weird about having your back end bare to another man, but with Namjoon there and Yoongi and Hobi too, it had felt a lot less nerve-wracking. You can tell from the flex of his jaw that Yoongi is about to step in when the doctor says one word. after a moment. After he's pieced together what you're implying.

"Good."

Good. This is a good thing; this is a thing that you want to do. The wrath might never leave you; you might never stop being angry about what was done to you. But you can at least keep it from your body and let the pain become a memory and not an imprint. You will not let your body become a place of pain again. All scars are temporary, you're just expediting the process.

Heal now, heal later, or heal never.

You’d woken up this morning with Hobi and Jungkook blanketing you on either side, Tae's long-manicured fingers scratching at your scalp. Stomach uncomfortably empty for a change because they’d told you to fast before your procedure. Bot that you’ll need to go under general anesthesia like Tae. But sometimes laser therapy can make people get sick.

You’d woken to the sound of them taking through it. Something like “I’m going to get her a cake anyway.”

“You should make her one Hobi, you know she likes it when things are homemade."

The hum of your best friend against your front had felt like the ripple of a river. Hobi's deep voice- the one that only comes out after he’s been in deep sleep for a while is always so soothing. “I guess I made you that boob cake with her didn’t I huh-"

They say something to each other, softer, laughter petering off. trying to be quiet and let you sleep but sort of failing. The sound of slow kissing joins the coo of mourning doves and Jungkook feeding Noodle downstairs. He's come back from his run early to make sure he can see you off.

“We can both- yeah?”

You’d been happy to doze until Yoongi’s hand had joined Tae's on your cheek, slowly picking you up off of Hobi's shoulder. Tucking your messy hair away from your face.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but it’s time.”

You’d fussed only a little. Only the pre-requisite amount to get a bit of babying (a necessary medicine, as important as the numbing cream) before allowing Tae and Yoongi to pull you out of the nest. putting on loose clothing that can easily be taken off and put back on.

You wanted to get this done before Tae and her top surgery and you want to meet the new version of her with the new version of you. It feels good that both of you are going through this change, this healing together.

Next week. Next week Tae will have boobs, next week she'll look whole and beautiful and so so pretty. She'll look exactly as she wants to look and you can hardly wait to see. To meet that version of her as the new version of you.

You still haven’t decided if there are any other scars on your body that you’d like to get rid of. Maybe the one under your chin- that's the only one that's so visible or as the one on your lower back. Or maybe the ones on the inside of your thighs. Those are so faint, too faint to matter. Too faint to hurt in a way that’s not purely psychological. Not like your back that you can feel when you turn wrong.

Your heart is in your throat as Namjoon helps you onto the gurney, wearing surgical gloves. The doctor behind him already has black-out goggles on his head. There is a pair that Namjoon hands you for you to wear. Jin and Yoongi stand back, wedding rings catching the light. Jimin is a faint presence outside the door, a shadow looming, protective instead of threatening.

“It’s going to smell pretty horrible, but the lidocaine should block most of the pain."

Namjoon does the honors of unlooping the back of your surgical gown and revealing your scars for the last time.

Worthless. But not for long. Worthless once, but not anymore.

You nod, “Okay.” You hear the clatter of the plastic machine against each the floor. The roll of the wheels on the linoleum as they wheel the machine over to you. Two technicians adjust it and the doctor clicks away at the computer before he grabs the wand and fiddles with the settings.

“The first pulse is going to come in just a second. I'll count down to three.  Are you ready?” You nod and try to relax, untensing your muscles and your body.

This pain, you can handle. This pain, you welcome.

Namjoon’s hold on your hand tightens, the doctor counts, and the light flashes.

~-~

Tae will also have scars. But not like yours. Not like stitches. They'll be like growing pains and stretch marks. Like her heart making room.

The surgeon has done a good job, but when Namjoon unwraps her gauze. You see the bloody stitches and whine. 50 of them under the edge of her generous curve, small nipples also taped over still. There's a fair amount of swelling- making them look larger but-

Yoongi's hands slip on the mirror as he holds it up for Tae, holding it at a tilt so that Tae can see. It's the next morning after her surgery, and you blink as you look at them. behind you, hobi bites on one nuckle.

“Oh my god.”

Jimin's face is flaming. He looks at the ceeling. "That bad?" tae slurs, head tipping limply to one side, her eyelashes fluttering, "Why are you all looking at me like that? How are my lemons?"

"Delicious." you say, at the same moment Jimin says, "breathtaking."

"I don't want anyone to juice them, they're mine, my lemons" tae pouts. Hobi holds his mouth trying not to laugh as yoongi chuckles. jin whipes her hair back from her sweaty forhead.

"Oh my god you are so high."

“No one can touch them.” Namjoon warns, looking at everyone in warning. "Promise me. No pawing. You cannot touch them when you're not sterile."

You let out an upset whine, “Joonie, just a kiss” Tae smiles from the bed, gently, tired. She's barely awake. It's the same bed that you and Yoongi used to share, this used to be your bedroom before you moved upstairs.

“Pup, It's non-negotiable” You pull up the straps on her billowing night dress and cuddle up next to her, sniffling and peaking at them while he wipes them down gently with gauze. Tae can't feel anything through the painkillers, but Namjoon's wipe comes away rusty and red.

You rest your head against her shoulder where bruises spread like ink as Namjoon works to clean them and her. The smell of blood doesn't bother you. You tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and Tae murmurs quietly- eyes still closed that she could use some skincare.

Doing it for her is a reverent act, rubbing it across her cheek the bridge of her nose. When she remembers to open her eyes, she smiles dopily.

“Drugs are so so goooooood.” the pack laughs, yours jiggles the bed and Hobi shakes his head from the doorway. Tae furrows her eyebrows at Jimin.

"You're so pretty."

"I know, you were saying that in the car." Jimin is ever patient with her.

"Do you wanna like, be my boyfriend or something? I feel like we should kiss."

"Tae, we've been dating for twelve years."

"Oh! nice, I should tell Jimin."

"I am Jimin."

"No you're not. Your name's noodle cuz you're little." Jimin sighs trying to keep his smile at bay.

jin kicks hobi and jungkook out of the room for laughing too loudly and you shuffle closer to her. barely keeping your laughter hidden.

You kiss her cheek, the apple of it where her skin goes round and full and pink. “I’m sure the drugs feel amazing.” Your voice goes husky as you look at her, and when her hand tangles with yours. You notice that her nails have gone chipped. you'll fix that for her later.

Tae flutters in and out of consciousness for the first-day post-op. By noon- most of the good drugs have worn off. Movement means pain, but there is always someone there to help her move, change her clothes, or help her to the bathroom (even if that part is significantly unglamorous). Noodle rests in the crook of her knee, purring loudly.

There is cool water directed to her lips, guiding her to sip, then a soft kiss. When she asks for a pen and paper the pack calembour gives it to her. To brush her hair, to pat her skin dry, to praise her, and tell her how well she did. Apparently, she was a stellar patient. She's not sure why Namjoon says it like that. Like it took more energy to just lie there than actually doing the surgery but-

Tae's hand moves sloppy, and her words are half unintelligible but this is what she writes on the paper:

Cage or no cage. We are both birds. Wingless or not. Me a chicken, you a penguin looking at the sky no longer flightless when we close our eyes.

Jimin’s scent blooms close, happy and vanilla goodness. The smell of reading old books at nighttime is comforting and familiar. Tae's heart beats a little faster. Namjoon huffs with his stethoscope and listens some more- laughing lightly when Tae opens her eyes and looks up at him, heart pumping quicker. He zips up her compression vest, to help with the swelling and buttons up her shirt, one of Yoongi's warm flannels. The same one that the pack trades back and forth.

She closes her eyes and you take the notebook and pencil from her before it can clatter onto the floor. Jimin kisses one eyelid and then the other. Murmuring something softly to you at her elbow. Kissing you too- judging from the way that the bed dips as he leans over. The light is turned low and honey.

Tae doesn’t really feel it, the weight or the pain of the incisions or anything really, just a bit of nausea when Namjoon asks and she thinks about it. She turns down the crackers and the toast that Jin offers.

She breathes in, feeling her body move with air. There is no weight to them, the lump of her chest. Compressed close to her body by a surgical vest to minimize inflammation. Honestly, she feels a little lighter if anything. Something like a string poised to snap that is no longer wound around her ribcage and aching heart. No longer suffocating.

She hasn’t even seen them yet; she shouldn’t be able to feel a difference already. But somehow when she closes her eyes, she can tell it’s different. That she’s different. A good sort of change.

It’s a slow healing process, Tae can’t get up or get out of bed for a few days, can do little more but sleep and eat and listen to Namjoon read her favorite books to her in his deep voice when she gets too dizzy to read on her own. Watching bad television and every single Studio Ghibli movie that ever did exist.

She can’t even do so much as put on her own shirts- although the pack is there to help with literally all of it. Buttoning a shirt over her fresh bandages, Jin kisses up her midline the same way she seen him do to you. Namjoon cleans her drains and Tae asks for perfume for once. Her Rosey cinnamon scent has stayed foggy with sickness and stress. Almost dewy damp.

You understand, the skin on your lower back is pealing and smells so ewey. You still can't sleep on your back.

It takes her 3 days before she can lift her arms above her head without pulling her stitches and manages to convince Namjoon and Jimin that she’s well enough to eat dinner like normal at the dining room table.

She sits with you on the outdoor furniture in the morning and eats watermelon. There’s only so much editing and staying yes to the dress that she can handle. The others herd her back to bed any time she looks the least bit uncomfortable or in pain.

Everyone is good, everyone is perfectly well-behaved, you don’t get handsy you don’t even paw at her to look when Namjoon undoes the compression vest. Although there is a moment when Namjoon stands back with the surgical gloves and blushes from his collar bones to his ear. "You need to wear this for the next three weeks, you can only take it off when you shower okay? And be gentle, the skin is so tender."

By day five she can dress herself, and she can't sleep any longer that to 5am when jungkook starts moving around for his walk, rousing you gently. She’s going stir crazy enough that you’re very very happy to take her with you on your morning walk.

Going extra extra slow. By the time you’re home the rest of the pack is in a bit of a tizzy trying to find her, Jimin wrenches open the door at the sound of your steps on the stairs.

Both you and Tae chagrined, Jungkook smiling a little too wide at Jimin’s generally disheveled appearance. Hair all a mess, scent acrid with panic.

“We went on a walk.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “where?”

“Around the block. Tae woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep.”

“You have fun?” "Yes." "Are your stitches torn?" "No" "You're not bleeding anywhere?" "No."

He wipes down his hair, behind him. Yoongi looks similarly off-kilter, buttons mismatched on his flannel. Rubbing his eyes. “Hobi's making breakfast.”

"Oh? Pancakes?"

"Boob-shaped ones!" He calls from inside.

Everyone is a little protective of Tae, a little possessive too.

By Wednesday of the next week, Namjoon goes to work and you drag Yoongi and Jin out for a little bit of shopping for nesting materials. Jimin has to go back to work too. She'll be fine on her own for a few hours. She can get dressed all right by herself. But Namjoon and Jimin have their ringers on and she's got a day's worth of snacks already pre-wrapped in the fridge.

Jimin and Tae had a moment earlier, helping her get dressed, smiling, looking up at her face and then back down, cheeks slowly going red. "hey my eyes are up here."

"I know," his fingers are gentle as they stroke down her midline. looking at them.

"They suit you, they look so nice and soft. They look so- you." Jimin's voice is rough and Tae's is too, but there are kisses and soft words.

"I'm so glad you told me, you're so brave. I'll never not be proud of you. I'm so glad you tried to be you. I'll never not be thankful that I got to meet the real version of you and got to fall in love all over again."

there's more, but i'll save that for them. Their little secret. Tae is sort of crying when Jimin's done, but he just wipes her tears away gently and lets her cry. The last of it goes away with that. The last of the tension. The dysphoria that will become a distant memory.

Tae hasn't really seen them yet. They're covered with the compression vest almost all the time. She's been sitting too much. Reading and editing and writing because she can at least use her hands. The brief glance she'd gotten at the bloody stitches had sort of freaked her out. But everyone has been so appreciative. You especially.

Hobi has another wedding to do the flowers for and Jungkook has his Wednesday kickboxing classes. The house is quiet and Noodle naps in a puddle of sunlight in the living room. The air conditioning hums and Tae is home, alone, for the first time.

She spent the morning waking up slowly, forehead kissed, waist held, but when the house gets silent, she steals away upstairs. Take the steps slowly, one at a time. going as fast as she's able. Aiming for the dressing room.

Her body is still a bit sore. A little tender, it's only been a week- and it's going to take her another week before she can really move around like she used to. But Namjoon took her stitches out at the kitchen table last night. And the slide of thread through the skin was only a little bit gross, a little bit nauseating.

The weight of her chest is welcome, but hard to get used too- she feels like she’s a little off balance as she teeters up the stairs. but she was warned about this, she knows to take it slow and adjust to her new center of gravity. Going up the stairs one at a time. patiently waiting for her body to stop hurting.

Tae steals away to the side of the room that contains your dresses and a spilling over set of drawers that hold your and Tae's lingerie collection (let's be honest, most of it belongs to Tae.)

Somehow, most of Jimin's gifts had actually been in the right size. It's soulmate magic maybe, or perhaps just good intuition that had him picking out the right cup and band size. Most of them are unlined anyways.

A lot of them are new and hers but a few of them are yours and old, your workout bras and old bralettes. If she’s not careful she still catches you wearing the same bras and underwear greying with age. The type of thing that's gone worn and brings back affectionate memories of the first time you and her ever did your makeup in the library room downstairs.

The little book box of makeup that once held her soul and kept it hidden away now sits open on the top shelf just above her head. The inside of it is filled with costume jewelry, fake pearls, and glittering Swarovski chokers.

Tae gets a stool so she can reach for it.

What Tae reaches for isn’t anything that you or Jimin have bought. It's small enough that she had almost forgotten about it (and you’ve probably forgotten about it too). But the bralette is thin and flimsy at the bottom of the book box. Made of cheap plastic fabric, white and gauzy mesh dotted with small yellow daisies. The first bra she ever bought and the only one she ever bought for herself.

It's not even really a bra, but a bralette.

Tae unzips her compression vest with shaky fingers.

Tae remembers you looking at it the first time you ever did your makeup together, the crinkle of the plastic as you touched it. A realization dawning on your face that you hadn't voiced. But you'd used 'she' pronouns for her pretty soon after that. And Tae had always know, that seeing this was the moment you realized, that was the moment it started to feel real for her too. Not just some stupid dream.

Tae puts it on quickly, hissing when she feels her sensitive new skin touched. The band digs into her skin uncomfortable, the fabric brushing over her sensitive nipples.

It will take some getting used to. She’s careful to close her eyes before she sees herself in the mirror, careful not to spoil it for herself. She wanted her real first look to be like this, alone. Just herself and her body.

It might be a little too early to wear this and yet, she keeps her eyes closed as she maneuvers herself in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling mirror over by the settee. Almost tripping over your pj's discarded on the floor as she goes. Her eyes are still closed when her fingers touch the cold glass, and she stands in front of it properly, gripping either side so hard that the gold filigree edge digs into her skin.

later tonight there will be dress up and dress down. it will feel like the most natural thing in the world and tae will realize that although they're new to her, her boobs have always felt like they were there. There will be no more dysphoria, no more clawing at her throat when she takes off her shirt or puts on a dress.

Your hands will hold around her waist as she tries on each and every one of her dresses to see how she looks in them now. The blue dress from the first day at the thrift store, the one you wore for your first date, every dress, even the ones with the puffy skirts that Jimin got for her after she came out. The ballgowns and corsets and lingerie.

Tae is going to try on all of it. You're going to do her makeup and when you're finished, both of you will be covered in kiss marks from your belly button up. It won't even be sexual it will just feel like love.

You're going to take so many photos that you'll fill up your camera roll and ask for yoongi's phone instead. They'll be half boudoir and half not. Pictures of the two of you in each and every one of those new bras and underwear, photos of tae in this pose and that pose. Kisses on her cleavage and even lower.

She's going to not be able to take her eyes off of them in the mirror but the feeling of them squishing into your front when you hug will be something else entirely. You might have a second photoshoot just for you- a gift maybe for the rest of the pack, you and Tae bare. One chest pressed to another, nothing between the two of you.

Tae will be a bit obsessed with them, will be a little bit proud of them. they'll be perfect.

She's perfect.

But that's for later. Right now, Tae takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

~-~

Notes:

-sometimes i worry that i'm starting every chapter of bily the same way and while i know i started the letter to my dead cat this way, i hope this is the fist chapter of bily i've started with the line of summer polishing it's rusty claws. Because thats what i'm refrencing, my old cat, i miss her every day. Barely a day goes by that i don't miss her. we're planting cat nip over her grave this summer. i think hobi probably does the same when noodle dies.

-90% certain that namjoon is reading one of the Bridgerton books when they’re at the beach, I love the idea of him being like “don’t fall for it Penelope, make him work for it” when it comes to pollin you know? Like namjoon would be so cute and so so into it.

-Okay but??? I actually got emotional thinking about noodle and Hobi smelling flowers together. You’re telling me noodle went from living in a 2 x 2 cage to having his own garden and 8 humans that love him 🥺 stop I just know he’s so happy. I’ve also decided that noodle is 8 years old. I think that feels like the right age for him.-

-Not to be unintentionally soft but I think the act of putting on sunscreen for someone else might but the most drawn out act of loving there is, when jin does it he’s taking care of the packs future health, a sort of daily effort that shows the investment and that he’s invested in their health for a long time :( I personally think it’s a very soft way of loving.

-i feel like at one point in the future hobi and the m/c actually do try doing oral sex on each other but it's way way too much of a trigger for both of them- hobi especially with pussy, that he tries it once and decides he doesn't want too do it for trauma reasons and both of them are so very cool with it. especially because all of the other alpha's do eat her out fairly regularly and jungkook loves sucking cock so- one thing i like about the bily pack is that they're all so sexually active that everyone gets what they need without hose needs imposing on any of the other packmates.

-the part where hobi and the m/c are like "you're the shame of the regimine.", "what do your suprieriors do with you." is a quote from the 1996 pride and prejudice movie, in my mind i think it's one of their inside jokes with tae too! hopefully people get it.

-yoongi is so cute telling her that he got a nibble on his bait like- i can just picture him being so excited and gummy smiling at her when he sees her. i feel like yoongi might be a tiny bit unaware that she's having a bad day, but their relationship is more equal this way when he's not like- hingeing his entire self worth on weather or not she's okay. i think about them post and pre moonbyul and i think this is one of their diffrences post moonbyul

-i think that the conversation that tae and jimin where having before the m/c walked up went something like this. "i feel like this morning, she might not have wanted it but she didn't tell me." "you should ask her before you ruminate on it any more." "i know i know, it's just hard." "thats not what has you upset today though, you're blaming yourself for that for a reason." "don't tell on me," "i'm not, i just know you." "i don't look good today and it's stupid, it's stupid to be upset about it when the pup- when jungkook- it's stupid to worry about how i look when there's so much going on." "it's not stupid, not when it's you." "i feel like if i hadn't been jealous this morning, i might have noticed that she wasn't into it." "tae, you still don't know if she was even upset." or something like that.

-i know it's silly, but i absolutely love the part where the m/c tells tae she ate her cherry and she's remorseless about it. like thats so /her/ she has such a personality to her you know? i don't think she'll ever be a true reader insert.

-I did not mention namjoon's dick in the shower scene because i knew i would get side tracked if i did.

-the line of 'i believe you' is because clover told me that this last time she visited and honestly, i don't think anyone's ever believed me before. it was the first time anyone told me that they belived me. like- someone /belives/ me??? how wild is that???? i know she loves bily more than anyone and i wanted to make sure i put bits of her in this story too. i haven't told her it will be in here but i hope she reads it and knows its from her without even having to read the notes. i sorta wanted to send her this chapter of bily early because she was sick but i also! wanted it to be perfect and a good surprise <3

-this might be an unpopular opinion but i think tae looks the best in yellow.

-i helped a trans friend of mine remove their boobs in 2020 so i'm hoping that getting a boob job is a similar process/recovery time. they told us the surgery would only last 2-3 hours but we where there for 18 because of pre and post op.

-the drug section where tae is being dumb was a last minute addition- i hope people think it's funny as opposed to thinking it's stupid.

-i actually got really emotional writing that ending i hope...i hope one day being trans won't be so scary. i hope each and every trans person gets a moment like tae's a moment where they love their body and love themselves as much as they love the people around them. i hope your body loves you back. i hope you never stop trying or dreaming.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

"B-But sir!" The male shakily raised a finger to try and object but when Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him, he immediately stopped, gulping in fear. If the other employees saw the boss of the rental company like this, they would have lost all respect for him.

"You dare raise the rental of buildings in my area without telling me? Did you seriously think you could do whatever you liked?" Hongjoong crossed his legs.

"I'm sorry, sir!" The landlord begged on his knees, in fear for his life. But Hongjoong knew these landlords too well.

"You're going to return the rates back to what it was, you're going to give me all the profits you have made so far." Hongjoong listed.

"B-But-" The male stuttered

"I'm not finished. Your cut of the rental has now been lowered. I let you manage any building in my territory, let you make profits of MY buildings. And you do this." He tilted his head.

"If you can't manage it, I can just give the responsibility to someone else." Hongjoong shrugged.

"No, sir! Please don't, I will do whatever you want. I apologise, it will never happen again." The male bowed deeply.

"You better hope so. I don't usually give second chances. People that try to pull stunts with me never live long enough to regret it." Hongjoong grabbed the guy's tie, pulling him forward.

Hongjoong was beyond angry and everyone in the room could see it. It happened yesterday, when you casually mentioned that the landlord has been increasing your store's rental. Hongjoong immediately knew the landlord was pocketing the profit and no one gets away with doing that.

"Yes, sir." The male nodded his head shakily and Hongjoong shoved him back, making him fall back.

"Let's go." Hongjoong stood up and one of his men opened the door for him. He walked out of the building with his men following behind, all the way to their cars.

"Go back. I have somewhere to be." Hongjoong said.

"Sir." The driver handed Hongjoong the keys to the Rolls Royce and the men all piled in the working van.

"Here we are." Hongjoong stopped outside your store, parking the car. As usual, there were some people stopping to stare at Hongjoong's car but he was used to it.

"(y/n)? Are you here? Hello~" Hongjoong stepped into your store, closing the door behind him, a pep in his step.

"(y/n)?" He called out again when there was no reply.

"Hongjoong! What are you doing here? Didn't you see the sign? I'm actually closed today." You popped up from behind the working counter. Hongjoong stopped and blinked, shaking his head. He didn't even see the sign, he just came in through the door.

"Oh, no. I didn't see the sign, didn't notice it at all. Sorry." Hongjoong rubbed the back of her neck.

"No worries, I guess I shouldn't have left the door open. What do you need?" You giggled, gesturing for him to sit in the usual seat.

"Nothing, actually. I was... Uh... Just in the area doing some work and dropped by." He informed, gratefully receiving the cold brew tea you handed to him.

"Ah, I see. I hope your meeting went well then." You smiled.

"Wait, why are you closed today?" Hongjoong asked, taking a sip of the refreshing cold tea.

"I'm preparing for my big event so I don't really have time to tend to customers or prepare orders. I have multiple deliveries coming in today." You informed as you walked around.

"That makes sense. So you're working on your event stuff today?" You nodded your head.

"Yeah, that's my main focus. My friends are coming in tonight to help me work through the others stuff that I can't finish in the day. Then I'll go to the event tomorrow to finish setting up there so I have to make sure I have everything I need. It seems like quite a big event so there's a lot to do." You said.

"Oh! The event is tomorrow? Do you... happen to know where it is?" Hongjoong questioned.

"Actually, no. The organiser is rather secretive so I think it's a high profile event. They even sending people and vans over to transport me, the flowers and all that over to the event." You shrugged.

"Wow, that's something. But you'll do well, your floral arrangements are always pretty." He complimented.

"Thank you, Hongjoong..." You coughed to hide your embarrassment.

"Do you want to have lunch together? I can order in. Or if you're busy, I'll leave you alone. I bet you have a lot to get done, I don't want to be in your way." He said.

"No, it's fine. I have to eat too to fuel me, don't I? Sure, just order whatever. I'll eat anything." You chuckled.

"No, no. Come look." Hongjoong set up his iPad and pulled up the delivery food page.

"Ugh, just pick for me. I'm busy~" You threw your head back with a groan. Hongjoong snickered, knowing he successfully managed to annoy you. Since you were busy walking around, Hongjoong picked a sandwich and some .

"Go, do your stuff. I'll get the food when it arrives." Hongjoong playfully waved you off. You chuckled and nodded, refilling his cold tea before continuing your work.

"Also, let me know how much lunch is. We'll split it, 50/50." You said to him.

"No, no. I'm the one here, bothering you while you work. It's a treat from me." Hongjoong replied.

"You always say that and don't let me pay!" You protested. Hongjoong ignored you and worked on his iPad quietly. Did he have a dozen offices to work in? Yes. But he preferred to work here.

"Delivery!"

"I'll get it!" Hongjoong stood up before you could go to the door. He paid the delivery boy and brought the bags of food in.

"You ordered so much food, Hongjoong!" You exclaimed in shock when you saw him bringing in the bags that were filled with containers. You moved your things aside.

"You told me to choose. I'm indecisive." Hongjoong shrugged as you took the bags and laid the containers out on the table. Since you were going to sit and eat, you decided to use the time to work on the revised designs for the flower stands that would go at the entrance and the bouquet that would go on each table.

"Eat first, work later.." Hongjoong said, putting his hand over the iPad screen to cover it.

"I am eating. See?" You held up your half of the chicken sandwich and even took a bite to prove a point. Hongjoong took the drink out for you and put the straw in it.

"What drink did you order me?" You asked.

"Strawberry lemonade. It's Seonghwa's favourite here." He replied, taking his coffee out.

"He has good taste." You nodded in approval after taking a sip. Hongjoong chuckled and ate a bite of his own pasta, reading his emails. Suddenly, your hand came in front of his iPad.

"Eat first, work later." You repeated his words back to him. Hongjoong jokingly rolled his eyes and moved his iPad aside.

"Fine." He grumbled.

After lunch, Hongjoong quietly worked, not wanting to disturb you anymore but you did engage in conversation with him from time to time. And he helped you organise the deliveries.

"Thanks for your help." You straightened your back after the both of you hauled in another box of flowers.

"Don't mention it. You would have seriously hurt your back if you did all that on your own." Hongjoong let out a huff, pulling the box away from the walkway so no one would trip. His phone buzzed on the table and he checked it.

"Sorry, looks like I have to go. Work stuff to attend to, Seonghwa's pissed." Hongjoong sighed, sending you an apologetic look as he packed up his things.

"Mmm, don't apologise. You've helped a lot despite having to do work. Hope Seonghwa doesn't grill you too hard." You giggled.

"He won't." Hongjoong chuckled.

"Thank you for all your help." You said as you walked with him to the door. Too bad, you didn't see your group of friends approaching the store. They stopped in their tracks, as did you and Hongjoong.

"Uh... What's going on here?" Nana tilted his head with a smirk. Eve sent you a little wave.

"Nevermind them. Have a great night, Hongjoong." You turned to the male. Hongjoong nodded and waved to you.

"See you around." He met eyes with your friends before heading to his car. Their eyes followed him, widening slightly at the Rolls Royce that he was driving.

"Damn, (y/n). You have a lot of explaining to do." Hyunwoo whistled, making you roll your eyes.

"He's just a friend. He was in the area and dropped by to help me handle the deliveries. There's nothing else to explain to you guys." You said as you walked back into the shop with them trailing behind you. Jihoon lagged behind the group, turning to watch Hongjoong drive off in his car.

"Alright, these are the assignments for tonight. Arrange the flowers like these and the ribbons will go here." You instructed, putting a picture of the bouquets on the table.

"Yes, boss!" Your friends saluted.

"If there are any questions, let me know. Thanks again for helping me." You smiled softly.

"No need to thank us. We wouldn't have let you do all this on your own too." Jihoon squeezed your shoulder with a smile, the rest nodded in agreement.

"Let's get started!" Hyunwoo fist pumped.

"So, you and that guy." Nana nudged you. Eve giggled and leaned in to listen to you.

"That guy's name is Hongjoong. And like I said, just friends. Nothing else." You sighed, cutting the stems of the flowers as the two arranged them into the table setting.

"He's handsome though. You should go for him." Eve said and Nana nodded her head.

"I'm way out of his league. I mean, I only know him because he's Mrs Kim's son and I practically work for his family. That's probably all he sees me as... a friend, someone who knew his mother, someone who works as his gardener." You shrugged.

"Oh, you sweet naive child." Your friends teased. You tilted your head in confusion but they just snickered to themselves. You gave them disapproving looks and continued your task.

"Alright, no more teasing her." Jihoon came to defend you, trying to sound playful.

"Yeah! What Jihoon said." You crossed your arms with a small pout.

"Slowpokes, if we're gonna get any sleep tonight, we better work faster." Hyunwoo said, a bunch of flowers in his hands. He was in charge of picking the flowers from the bucket for each bouquet.

"Hyunwoo's right." You hummed and went back to trimming the stalks off the flowers.

Although as you worked, all you could think about was what your friends said. It didn't matter if you felt anything more for Hongjoong, you were so different from him.

"Where should I put these?" Jihoon's voice broke your train of thought. He carried the acrylic flower stands over.

"Just near the entrance would do. I'll put the bouquets on top of them at the venue itself." You pointed. He nodded and moved the stands. Jihoon had wrapped the stands in decorative wrapping and added a big bow right in front. The designs were over the top since they were to go at the entranceways.

"Let me help with that now. Tell me where I should be cutting." He grabbed a pair of pruning sheares to help you cut the access stalks off the bottom of the flowers.

"Here is about good." You held the flowers out to him to demonstrate the ideal height.

"Is this okay?" Eve asked, showing you the flowers that she arranged according to the design in the picture you gave her.

"That's great. Since Jihoon is trimming the stalks, I can start decorating them and wrapping them up." You said, putting your pruning sheares away.

"How are you transporting all this over to the venue?" Nana asked as she put together the bouquet.

"The organiser is sending a few vans and movers over. They apparently have people there to help set up." You informed.

"Honestly, that sounds a little suspicious... Why are they being so secretive about it? Are you sure this event is legit and everything?" She frowned slightly.

"Don't worry, it is legit. They sent over documentation and everything. Plus, they already paid so even if it was a sham... I wouldn't be too bothered with it, I think. It could just be a high profile event." You scratched your head.

"Maybe one of us should tag along with you. You know... Just in case." Eve suggested. Jihoon and Hyunwoo nodded in agreement.

"I'm not going to get kidnapped or anything." You threw your head back in laughter.

"(y/n), this is serious." Hyunwoo said.

"I knowwwww. But trust me, I'll be fine, I'll keep you guys updated regularly throughout the thing, okay? I promise." You held your hand up to swear to them.

"You better come back from this event with all fingers, toes and unharmed." Nana crossed her arms.

-

When Hongjoong arrived back, Seonghwa came out from the dining room with a stack of folders.

"Where's Yunho? I need to ask him something." He asked.

"I think he just went to bed, came back from a race. I told all the boys to cancel late night plans with the gala happening tomorrow. We don't need anyone in the hospital or showing up with a busted face." Seonghwa said. Hongjoong nodded in agreement and walked into his office with Seonghwa behind him.

"So... How was the issue with your landlords?" Seonghwa questioned, leaning against Hongjoong's desk.

"Settled. Luckily (y/n) mentioned to me that the rental has been increasing or else I wouldn't have known. Guy thinks he could pull a fast one on me." Hongjoong growled.

"Are you ever going to tell her? That you own the building she works and lives at?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not right now. I have other things to deal with. For this to have happened, it means I'm too distracted." Hongjoong sighed.

"You're always working hard anyway. So what did you do? Kill the guy?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. He knew Hongjoong's temper, especially when he gets backstabbed and/or betrayed.

"No. If I kill him and send another landlord, (y/n) will get suspicious. I really wanted to though." Hongjoong said.

"I know. Anyway, this is for you. Jongho said you wanted it." Seonghwa passed over the stack of folders that he had been carrying. Hongjoong nodded and opened the first folder on top, letting Seonghwa peeked over to see.

"You got background checks on (y/n)'s friends?" Seonghwa asked, recognising a picture of one of the girls that you were with at the racetracks the other night.

"I bumped into them earlier and I just want to make sure they don't recognise me or are a threat." The captain explained.

"This guy was giving me looks. I wanted to make sure he didn't know who I was." He pointed to Jihoon's picture.

"Or, you're a mysterious guy who is talking to one of his female friends and he's protective." Seonghwa suggested. Hongjoong sent him a look.

"Or he could have a crush on (y/n) and sees you as competition." Seonghwa stated directly with a shrug. Hongjoong's eyes widened but he regained composure and cleared his throat.

"That's impossible. And (y/n)'s not some prize that you win. It's demeaning to refer to her as such." Hongjoong said.

"Sure. That's the issue... Anyway even if it was really a competition, Jihoon has you beat." Seonghwa teased.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Hongjoong frowned. Seonghwa was mentally snickering, knowing exactly what he has done to Hongjoong.

"Look, Joong. You want me to be real with you. Firstly, Jihoon has known (y/n) longer. From what I saw at the bar the first time, he is protective of her and she's comfortable around him to be vulnerable, they're close. And honestly, you've been pretty mean to (y/n). Even if you do apologise and make up after." Seonghwa said.

"That's all based on your theories and assumptions, Hwa. Interesting but all assumptions." Hongjoong said, looking disinterested by turning on his computer to check his messages.

"I'm not wrong, Hongjoong." Seonghwa laughed.

"Whatever. Don't bother me, I need to work since we'll be busy with the gala tomorrow!" Hongjoong waved Seonghwa off.

"Goodnight. By the way, I left the new contracts there for you to sign. Get them back to me tomorrow, we'll be seeing partners at the gala." Seonghwa informed.

"Sure." Hongjoong nodded. Once Seonghwa left, Hongjoong began to look through the contracts.

"You've been pretty mean to (y/n)."

All of Seonghwa's words from earlier were constantly replaying in Hongjoong's head and honestly, it stirred up a lot of different emotions in him like anger, guilt, envy and jealousy.

"Ugh..." Hongjoong groaned and went to get himself a whiskey to stop himself from being so distracted.

Hongjoong already felt enough guilt whenever he did something to hurt you. He doesn't feel these emotions regularly, he kills without mercy, he runs the gang ruthlessly with toughness because as the captain, he cannot show any weakness.

"This is too complicated." Hongjoong rubbed his temples. He has never felt so many feelings altogether at once and he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Hyung? You're still awake?" Mingi poked his head into Hongjoong's office.

"Yes, why are you awake? Didn't Seonghwa set a curfew?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at the taller male, his outfit showing he was out.

"It's called sneaking out, hyung~" Mingi sang.

"Uh huh... I'm sure he won't be pleased to hear that." Hongjoong nodded. Mingi scoffed and came into Hongjoong's office, curiously looking at all the paperwork that was strewn everywhere.

"Lighten up, hyung! The gala is tomorrow. You look so gloomy and I could hear you sighing from the hallway earlier." Mingi chuckled.

"I know, that's why I have work to do, Mingi ah. I will be too busy with the gala tomorrow and I cannot afford to be distracted right now." Hongjoong said.

"Do you need help?" Mingi asked.

"No, you're too intoxicated right now to be looking over any official documents. And besides, even if you were sober, I don't even think you've completed your own work." Hongjoong blinked. Mingi rubbed the back of his neck, knowing that the captain saw through him. With a salute, he headed for the door.

"Do all this then have fun tomorrow, okay hyung?" Mingi said as a final statement before he left Hongjoong's office.

"Have fun.." Hongjoong repeated. Luckily, Mingi wasn't nosy enough to look through the folders that had the profiles of your friends. Hongjoong gathered those up

"Competition, huh?" He took one last look at Jihoon's profile and put the entire stack in his drawer, closing it after.

~

Series masterlist

[the-kr8tor]

Happy one year Katie !! Your fics have been a comfort of mine for a while and have kept me motivated day by day, whether it's through escapism or excitement of the next chapter in your series. You're inspiring, creative, and really sweet. I hope to see more years of Tumblr with you, don't get burnt out, and congratulations !! Not to sound like I'm buttering you up for a request, I truly mean it. You're a fantastic writer and are an interactive creator which is awesome to see 🫶

May I have Sea Salt in a ❣️ bottle? Hobie asking Reader to "marry" him, but on the sea (and as a Pirate) they can't really just roll up to a church and get certified. Maybe he works together with the crew to still try and throw Reader a seaside wedding anyways? (BDAS or regular pirate both welcomed !!)

Awww thank you for the kind words, angel!! That's so sweet of you to say 🥺❤️ I hope you see this and like it!!! Thank you so much for the love 💕💕

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), pirate AU, established relationship, cw food mentions, cw alcohol mention, pregnancy mention, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

One year celebration 🎉

“Would you marry me if I asked you to?”

You remember the exact words uttered beside you while you're on the edge of slumber. Hobie’s tone was soft in your ear, unsure and yet his voice never wavered. His hand never left from the curve of your bare hip, and the haziness of the late night made you think that you were already dreaming. But when you craned your head to look at him, grey eyes stared right into yours, lips curled into a wobbly and fond smile, you knew it was reality, that the question was real.

Without missing a beat, you cup his cheek. “Yeah, I would.”

That’s how it started, a gentle question, and an affectionate answer. After a lot of preparations, the next thing you know, you're standing on a white sandy beach, hand trembling against the flower bouquet as you stand in front of him. Not out of fear, but from sheer excitement. Your dress was nothing spectacular, leftover lace from a trimmed fancy dinner table linen, a small train that dragged along the beach, and silky sleeves. It’s a simple dress but beautifully hand sewn together by Yuri, handcrafted with your preference in mind. Hobie thinks it's the most marvellous wedding dress ever, nothing like all the glittering treasures he has ever seen before.

As tears collect in his grey eyes, all the things he has experienced, both good and bad, both maddening and the mundane at sea, it's all worth it to see you walking down the sandy aisle.

The captain stands there before you, he's wearing a crisp white tunic that blows gently in the wind, his guns are kept by Ned, his best man. And your captain doesn't seem to find any reason why he should carry it with him today. For once, he wants to face you without the smell of gunpowder beside him. He wants a good start to the occasion and to the marriage, without violence looking over his shoulder. Just him.

Hobie looks as handsome as ever with the sun beaming down on him, illuminating his features as if he was brought down to you from the heavens above. He could be as he gingerly takes your hand in his, like the gentle lapping of waves against the ship’s hull.

The island is peaceful, and the weather is perfect. There's barely any cloud in the blue sky, and the waves are calm, gently dancing along the shore. It's as if fate has granted you this one day of pure mirth. No cannons booming, no cutlasses unsheathed, only the gentle sniffles from the crew, and promises uttered softly amidst the waves.

Since the captain himself is the one getting married, Hobie asked Finn to officiate it, to which the man was almost in tears when he said and yes, and by the time Hobie was slipping the ring on your finger, he was trying to act tough, but you can see the tears clinging in his lashes. It's the same ring that Hobie specifically commissioned, it's made from the same metal as his cutlass that he had melted off to be used as the pair of rings. It's no longer a blade that's meant to cut, but something that symbolises the shared love that wouldn't have blossomed without its help.

The two of you savoured each minute of the ceremony with his warm hands around yours. He knows that the marriage isn't bound by law or any higher being, there's no papers to sign, or an actual officiate to announce the marriage. But love’s enough, no amount of official documents or a man with a big hat could tell the two of you that you shouldn't be married. Or that it’s not legitimate. It's enough that his family— his crew knows about it. To him, that's legitimate, it's real, especially when you said ‘I do.’

The sea bears witness to it all, and as Finn announces that you're his, and he's yours. Hobie doesn't waste any time in embracing you and kissing you right there and then. It's not a fairy tale kind of wedding, but it's perfect in all the ways that you could see.

The crew rises up in a rambunctious applause, clapping and whistling out while Gwen, Pav and Miles toss flower petals around the two of you, showering you with fragrant flowers, drenching the whole beach in splashes of colours.

When the party takes onto the ship's deck, the scene shifts into a more merry one. Happy tears still leave remnants on the crew's puffy eyes, but the rum, jaunty music played by Ned, and the food have the celebrations in full swing.

And as you look below from the helm, gazing softly at your family dancing and laughing, your heart has increased in size. Lucky, you thought, lucky that you get to have this life and share it with him.

Hobie sidles up beside you, like the mere thought of him summoned him. With a drink in hand and a smile that seems to have been permanently sewn on his handsome face, pure happiness rolls off him.

“Hi, captain.” Smiling, you meet him halfway, an arm reaching for him as he immediately glues himself beside you like he didn't just leave your side for five minutes to get a drink.

“Scuttlebutt,” Hobie sighs against your bare shoulder, nose nudging you affectionately. He's not tipsy nor drunk, not yet anyway as he promised you that he'd drink moderately to enjoy the whole occasion wholeheartedly. “Why are you up ‘ere alone, hm?”

“Just coming up for air.” Chuckling, you tuck him closer beside you, sea salt and mint wafting over your senses, a feeling of nostalgia and a wave of memories open up in your head just from it. “Yuri kept trying to give me a drink.”

Hobie laughs softly, moonlight bouncing off his grey eyes as he gazes at his crew fondly. “She keeps trying to make everyone as drunk as her.” His arm weaves behind you, hand mindlessly tracing the flower stitching on your bodice. “You're not goin' to drink?” He finally noticed the lack of drink in your hand.

Smiling, you bite the inside of your cheek. “I can't drink.”

Snorting, He squeezes your nose. “Love, that's odd. Who are you and what have you done to my wife?” Wife, the title alone has your stomach doing flips, and your chest feeling warmer than the sensation of rum hitting your tongue.

Giggling as he peppers sweetened rum kisses around your cheeks, your palms rests upon his sturdy chest, feeling his warmth through the simple touch that has his heart racing more than a raging sea battle could.

“Nothing, husband, I just can't drink!”

Hobie leans away, eyes shining at the title you so lovingly uttered. “And ‘m askin’ why, it's our party, you're allowed to drink!”

“I know I can, but I can't!” He traps you between the ship's helm and his form, and you happily let yourself be trapped by him.

“But why?” Cupping your hips, he plunges his face into the crook of your neck, blowing raspberries and making your guffaw echo around the ship. Moving away and heaving, he gazes at you affectionately. “C’mon, at least have some of Finn's fried shrimp before Gwen eats all of ‘em.”

“I can't have that either.” You say in an unsure tone.

Blinking, now he's concerned. “Are you alright? You usually love shrimp.” His calloused palm slides over to your stomach. “Shit, is it the hot chocolate from this mornin’? Is it messin’ with your stomach?”

“I do, but I heard it's not good for the baby.”

“What fuckin’ baby—?” Realization flickers over his face, from panic to elation, it seems that Hobie experienced all the emotions in the span of five seconds. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, biting your lip. “It's yours by the way.” Joking to lighten your own nerves, he feels for your stomach as if you're at that stage where the baby could kick. “Are you alright? Please say something, Hobie—!” You're suddenly lifted up and twirled around the helm, dress fluttering around the two of you in a flurry of white clouds.

“Shit!” He yells, grinning from ear to ear, cradling your face and kissing you fervently. “Can I tell them?”

“You're happy?” Patting his cheek with a tearful gaze, you feel lighter now that you've told him.

“Why wouldn't I be?” He utters in wonderment.

Choking on a happy sob, he kisses you again, this time it's softer, heavier and with an unsung promise to keep you and the baby safe.

Reluctantly ending the kiss, you chuckle as you nod at him, gazing at him with so much love that even the sea herself would envy it. “Go tell them, you look like you're about to burst a vein.”

With your approval, Hobie bounds over to the bannister, inhaling deeply before yelling at the top of his lungs and announcing the news. You watch as they all cheer, glasses clinking together, and congratulations thrown at you and the captain.

Hobie looks over his shoulder at you, and finds that he already has the greatest treasure a pirate could ever ask for.

[lostinlads]

Faulty Evols and Late-Night Rides

Synopsis: After a failed resonation with Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, he sweeps you away in the middle of the night to a warehouse. What's waiting for you are tests and a disappointment red-eyed man.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, , mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, biker!sylus, descriptions of food, mc is basically just a worry wort that sylus is gonna kill her, angst

Words: 3.8k

an: Howdy! So- uh this chapter is a bit long to say the least. And i did have some tech difficulties with ao3 deleting some of the chapter otherwise this wouldve been posted a few hours ago, but i hope you enjoy!!! we are slowly getting into it more and i hope you all continue to like this direction we are going in! Feel free to let me know any feedback and let me know if you catch any mistakes as well!!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

You've finally managed to get some sleep, though without a clock to tell you how long, you were starting to feel a bit better. You've been awake for a few hours, digging through the boxes that consumed the room and lazily putting things away in silence. You wished nothing more than to have your laptop, to play music or put on a movie in the background because the quietness of the house only added to the eeriness. But unfortunately, beggars can't be choosers, so you work in the stillness of your new room.

A lightness in your chest as your eyes fall upon your book collection, the first thing to have a place in here. Finally able to do something other than stare out at the expansive black of the outside. Maybe Sylus wouldn't need you much, you able to lock yourself away in your room and transcend to other worlds that wait eagerly in those pages. Though, you knew it would be too good to be true.

Three soft rasps on the door draw you from your daydream of escaping. Standing upright in the center of the room, expecting to see the twins, or the devil himself. But with a soft click, the door opened, and you found yourself looking at an older woman. Her graying hair pulled into a tight bun as a blue cleaning uniform clung to her body. If it weren't for her age, at first glance you would've guessed it would be Sylus's wife. But unless he was into older women, she looked closer to being his mother. 

"Mister Qin would like to see you in the dining hall, he sent me to retrieve you." The maid spoke, dark eyes staring at you. You nod, wiping your hands on your thighs as you step forward to follow her out to the winding hall. She led you through the house, your brain trying to memorize the way she took so you can figure out any path this house would lead you to. 

Your palms began to sweat, balling them in tight fists to control the nerves binding in your stomach. You take a deep breath, trying to be as quiet as possible to not show any weakness in front of the maid, though she no doubt see the fear in your eyes. The look of prey being handed over to the predator. The only sound echoing in the empty halls is both pairs of your feet.

The woman leads you through a grand room, you would've mistaken it for a ball room, but you realize it's an entryway. Delicate paintings line the walls, a small table holding a vase and a flower sits at the far corner. Almost something from a period piece movie. But she turns right, two grand doors opening as she walks through. You make your way in, tailing her as best you could, and make out this must be the dining hall. A long wooden table lay in the middle of the room, a golden silk tablecloth stretching the impossible length with a candelabra sitting magnificently in the middle. Chairs line the sides, thick wood with blood red cushions resting on the backs and seat. You almost don't realize Sylus sitting at the head, glasses pushed on his nose with papers littering the space in front of him and in his hand. You gulp.

"Thank you, Selene," He speaks, not looking up from his readings. She turns and leaves, the heaviness of being left alone in the room with him falls onto your shoulders. Teeth gnashing at the inside of your cheek as you stand there, rubbing your hands on your pants once more as you wait for a command, not wanting to push Sylus into harming you.

He looks up from his papers, eyes scanning over your figure through the lenses of his glasses. Embarrassment blooms inside of you, painting your cheeks a flushed pink as you remember your outfit. Plush pajama pants hang from your hips, a sweater wrapping around your upper body one single shoulder on display from it hanging loosely on you. You shuffle uncomfortably in your slipper clad feet as his eyes drink you in. You didn't even know if this outfit had been appropriate for this time of day, whatever that may be. A smokey rope appears from him, pulling the wooden chair from the table out. 

"Sit," His voice commanding, powerful. You obey, shuffling towards it and sliding in soundlessly before it yanks forward, a gasp falling from your lips. "Dinner will be served soon." Your mind reels at what could be served to you. The crackers and granola running out last night leaving your growling stomach to be the only sound in your room. You prayed this wouldn't be some sick game, him feeding you slop while he gets served a grand meal, leaving you to watch in starvation. You just nod, folding your hands on your lap as they wring together. 

Silence washes over you both again, the quiet sounds of fluttering pages as Sylus continues to look over his work in front of him. Your eyes scan the room, dark painted walls with deep wooden accents. A chandelier hangs above the long table, lighting the room in a warm glow, only making it more gothic. You could imagine Dracula living here, bringing beautiful women in to be his victims before he drinks them dry. Maybe that nightmare would be better than the one you're living in now, seduced to think some handsome man was taking you to be his bride and end up his dinner. 

You look down at your hands, pulling your sleeves past your fingers as you wait for food, hunger pains growing from the thought as your mouth waters. 

A door opened, making you jump at the sudden sound, turning your head to see a man in a chef coat wheel a cart into the room. The next thing you notice is the smell. How mouthwatering the wafting sent was, you can almost taste it. If the cartoons were real about people flying through the air at the scent of pie, that would be you. Your only consuming thought is how delicious it must be, your stomach audibly growling to show your need for it. 

Sylus's smoke tendrils swirl through the air, gathering the papers from the table and placing them in a neat pile next to him, which he placed his glasses on a moment later. The chef wheels the cart between you and Sylus, large plates filled with the most exquisite looking food you've ever seen laying on top with twin wine glasses sitting between them. He picks one up, placing it in front of Sylus, followed by a wine glass.

"Tonight we are having grilled Delmonico steak, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. For sides; we have roasted potatoes, biscuits, and slices of clementines." He places your plate in front of you, you watch as the golden butter on the potatoes glisten in the light, the juices from the thinly sliced steak dip nearing the edge of the plate before settling back into place. The biscuits split, the fluffy light bread on the inside looking like a cloud, aching for you to dine on it. And a small bowl containing evenly placed citrus slices, their scent wafting through your nostrils. You fought hard not to tear into everything before he could place the plate fully on the table, your hunger growing ravenous at you nearly drool at the sight of the art in front of you. He placed your glass in front of you.

"For the wine," He bends down, opening a small door on the side of the cart, pulling a wine bottle from a chilled bucket of ice. "We are serving Chateau Margaux, one of your favorites, Mister Qin." He pops the cork, creating another small jump from you before he pours a generous amount in both of your glasses, more than the usual amount. You note the scent, something vintage, something you remember from those late nights at galas and expensive dinners with your father. 

"Thank you, Chef," Sylus speaks, a hint of appreciation or fondness in his tone. "Everything looks delicious." The chef nods.

"Enjoy," He turns, wheeling the cart from the room, leaving Sylus and you alone with the hot, fresh meals in front of you both. You don't move a muscle, not knowing if this would turn into a trap, letting you almost taste real food for the first time in days, just to rip it from under you. Eyes scanning everything on the plate, taking in every last detail of the meal as you inhale the scent like a dog begging for a bite.

"Eat," Sylus commands, annoyed. You look at him for a second, blinking. The all too familiar crease between his brows there, eyes hard as he lifts a piece of steak from his plate. You watch as his teeth sink into it, sharp, slicing right through. With a shaky breath, you gulp, turning back to your own plate and lift up a fork. The silver heavy in your hand as you let the weight sink into your palm for a second, deciding on what first to consume. You decide on the potatoes, knowing if you start with the steak, you will only embarrass yourself further, ripping it apart like a rabid animal. The second it touches your taste buds you couldn't help the small moan pass your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. It almost felt worth it waiting for days to eat real food, with this the first thing to bless your mouth.

"It's delicious..." You whisper out, stabbing your fork into the meat, not wanting to wait any longer to consume it. 

"Our chef is a master in his work," His words ring loud as he appraises his employee. The two of you fall into silence, forks tapping in the plates and muted chewing filling the space between. You tasted the wine, sweetness blooming on your tongue as the warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach. Every bit of the meal complimenting each other, filling you up far sooner than you thought it would. Your plate only half eaten; wine downed as the soft buzz in your veins made you feel warm inside. Placing your fork back down, you lean back in your seat, head down with your hands on your lap.

"Uhm," You start, not knowing how to let him know you stuffed to the brim.

"If you're finished, head to your room and get dressed. We have somewhere to be," He spoke, eyes never wavering from his food as he lifts his glass to his wine-stained lips. You nod, pushing out of your chair to stand. It felt awkward, leaving your plate behind for someone else to clean up, but you really didn't want to feel more incompetent than you already do, having to be walked through basic steps of living all over again. 

To your surprise, the maid was waiting outside the door, hands clasped behind her back as she stared down the hall. You clear your throat, her head snapping to you before blinking twice.

"Ah, you're finished," She speaks with surprise, eyes drifting to the large grandfather clock along the other wall. You follow, the time displaying eight thirty, but you weren't sure if it was day or night. 

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know..." Words trailing off as she begins to walk you back to your room, the familiar route slowly engraving in your mind. 

"I expected you to be gone longer, no worries," Selene chirps, an odd warmness in her tone. 

You make it back to your room, Selene bids you a farewell, telling you Sylus would be meeting you outside once you're ready before turning on her heel and leaving. You shut the door, the lack of a lock latching stretching in the silence before you turn to your dresser. The problem now was you had no idea what Sylus had in mind for your outing. Somewhere to be? That could only mean so many things, and after yesterday your mind told you that you would be sold off yet again. Faulty evol not to his tase so he would simply throw you away. 

Hands shuffling through the drawers you find a simple outfit, jeans and a t-shirt, if he had more elegant plans, well he should've said so. You shuck out of your sleepwear, tossing your new outfit on you make your way to the bathroom. Eyes washing over your appearance, hair tousled from sleep and lounging all day, dark circles under your eyes, and the most pathetic look on your face. Looking like a beaten kitten, fear etched into your eyes, cheeks sunken in, and a soft frown on your stained lips. You almost didn't recognize yourself. With a huff you reach for your brush, raking it through your locks, wincing at every small knot that tugs your scalp. You also decide to wash your face, splashing cold water to try and flush the color of your cheeks, convince yourself that you're still alive. It helps, a soft blush spreading over the apples and the tip of your nose. 

Satisfied, you turn to leave, your hand stuttering to a halt on the handle of your door before you retreat, eyes scanning over your messily unpacked items. They fall onto your jacket, thrown across the chair of the desk in the corner. Might as well bring it, you weren't familiar with the weather of the N109 Zone at this time of year, better safe than sorry. 

You walk through the halls for the first time alone, the sense of being caught for doing so etching into your bones, fear creeping up your spine. You knew your instructions, but spending days locked away to roaming the halls freely seemed like a trap. Maybe you should've waited for him to come and get you, but Selene told you to meet him. The sigh that escaped your lips was involuntary, slipping out while you turn down another hall - hoping you're heading in the right direction.

Finding yourself in what you think looks like an entryway. Peering out the window, vast darkness stretches as far as your eyes can see, the only thing you can make out is a soft glow of a light close by. This should be it, if not you could find your way around the large house until you spot him. You open the door, slipping out through the crack, you're grateful for grabbing the jacket, cool air nipping at the exposed flesh greedily. You follow the source of light, the sound of an engine humming in your ears as you draw closer. 

Sylus, dressed in leather, leaning on a motorcycle comes into view. Large muscular arms crossed over his chest as his eyes remain on the gravel blow his boots. Lips still stained that deep red color, which you are disgusted to admit, looks divine on him, matching his wine-colored eyes. Gravel crunches, he lifts his head, face unchanging as he takes in your appearance.

"Where... are we going?" You decide to ask, putting on a brave face as you shift under his watchful eyes. He pushes himself from the bike, grabbing a helmet before walking over to you. 

"I have a... friend - who might help your little evol situation." That sure didn't sound ominous at all. You nod, gulping down the bubbling fear inside you as you stare into his eyes. He slips the helmet onto your head, using his knuckle to lift your chin up - your cheeks flame. The gesture so soft, so unlike Sylus. He leans in close, eyes drifting from yours, to your lips, then to the strap hanging loosely by your neck. Fingertips barely graze past your skin as he tightens it, a snug - almost perfect - fit as it secures. Sylus's eyes meet yours once more for a split second before he turns, climbing onto his bike in a movement so fluid it almost seemed like a rehearsed dance. 

"Well?" He shoots you a look as he slips his own helmet on, looking at you expectantly. Right. You walk over and climb on, attempting to leave as much space between the both of you as you can on the small machine. Your hands reach out and shakily hold onto his sides, barely touching him. Until you feel a push from behind you, knocking your chest flush to his back and arms around his thin waist. 

"You need to hold on tighter. We can't have you falling off, can we, Kitten?" His voice loud and clear through the helmet, an intercom? One of his hands coming to secure your arms tight around him. He could probably hear how loud you were breathing through his helmet but he only thing you could think of was his intoxicating scent flooding your every being. Warm, worn leather, deep fresh citrus, with a smokey and sweet scent undertone and hints of a manly cologne. It consumed you, something so musky but so elegant, you wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you. If you weren't so drunk on his scent, you would be shaming yourself. How could you think this way of this criminal. This man who took you from the only home you've ever known. Who confessed to wanting to use you as his weapon. But right now, his body was warm, pressed to yours, his scent filling your senses and making you dumb, strong muscles under your fingertips. Everything telling you this was safe, this is comfort. You wished you didn't have this damned helmet on, wanting to press your cheek to him and breathe him in completely, but sadly, that wouldn't be your fate today.

Before you could think, the bike beneath you roared, the vibrations rattling your bones, making your teeth chatter. 

"Hold on tight, Sweetie," Sylus purred in your ears, his back rumbling with his words against your chest as you sped off into the darkness before you. He was so fast, zipping into the night like a bullet with you clinging onto him for dear life. The sudden jolt coaxing a gasp from your lips, eyes bulging wide as the scene around you blurs to nothingness. Sylus's unmistakable dark chuckle bounces around your skull, obviously amused at your shock and fear. 

"Does the N109 Zone not have speed limits?" You shriek, clinging impossibly closer to him.

"What do you think?" Tone mocking, as if you willingly spent any time in this hellscape alone. You don't answer him, looking off into the distance, trying to make anything out other than streaks of light. 

The cold air whipping at your hands made them sting. If only he would slow down maybe they wouldn't hurt so much. Your intoxication of him washing away to nothing more than annoyance once more.

He confused you, everything he said and done contradicting each other, making your head hurt. His gentle touches but harsh looks? Taking you away from your home but carefully packing up your belongings and bringing them here for you? You couldn't decide if he was cruel or thoughtful. But you still didn't have a phone, or anything for you to communicate with for that matter, so maybe his plan is to isolate you. Lock you away in his tower forever. Not like you weren't used to it, your father practically doing the same thing for years. But there you were home, not stuck in the N109 Zone, promised to be used by the leader of fucking Onychinus.

You would just have to keep your distance from him, which is a hard thing to say as your bodies are pressed so close you could feel every calm, controlled breath that graced his lungs. After today you would stay away, not look for any answers from him, keep your head down. Not that you haven't, but the way your brain looked too far into his caresses, the way it nearly shut down at his smell alone, you had to be careful. 

You zip through the dark, Sylus expertly swerving down streets and past cars, only making you panic more. Preparing for the inevitable crash your nerves told you was going to happen. But before it could happen, Sylus rounded a corner and slowed to a stop.

The building before you large, and dimly lit only adding to the haunting feeling of today. You didn't move, hands still clutching him as you tried to calm your beating heart back into a normal pace. 

"You can get off now," Annoyance etched onto every word. You obeyed, though you really didn't want to. Throwing your leg over and bracing them shakily on the pavement under you. Sylus followed, swift precise movement he's probably done thousands of times before. His long legs stride over to you, lifting your chin to undo the strap under your chin before he slides the helmet off. He copies the same with his, placing them both on the seat as he glides effortlessly towards the large double doors of the building.

You chase after him, two steps for each of his.

Inside was almost like another world to you, weapons lining the walls and littered over tables, some creating a soft glow to them. You noticed pretty quick that they had been altered with protocores, then it clicked to you. This is Sylus's job. Creating illegal weapons with altered, and equally as illegal, protocores. Selling them to people, to your father. Your beating heart in your chest reminded you just how rare the one lodged in it was, desirable and sought after by people like Sylus. You gulp.

"Mister Qin, I wasn't expecting you today," A man walked out from behind a machine, rubbing grease off of his hands with a worn rag. Sylus pulled out a chair and slipped onto it, plucking a pocket knife up from the table and flipping the blade open. Blue currents buzzed out, obviously altered by a protocore.

"I have a special situation you need to look into for me," Wine stained lips curling into a smirk as his eyes stay trained on the knife, flipping it between his long, skilled fingers. The man made his way over, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to Sylus. 

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?" Sylus's eyes finally land on you, almost zeroing in like a predator. 

"I need you to run some tests on her." Your mouth runs dry, hands sweating as you ball them by your sides. Your exhausted body almost collapsing at the nerves tremoring through it. This was it, your fate. If you failed him, no doubt he would have this man carve your heart out and rip the damned core from it to have himself. "Says she has an aether core in her heart but her evol isn't working. We need to figure out why." 

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 8 (Final)

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability. Sylus myth mentions.

Word Count: 5610

Written: 17th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. This was rough... Truly romance is hell for me to write (don't ask why an otome game is the only game I write fic for, it's a mystery). I hope you enjoy, final chapter of Turning Point. Thank you for reading ❤️

Now Playing: I Adore You, By HUGEL

Masterlist AO3

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Sylus has spent a lot of his life alone.

It's an indisputable fact of who he has been, and who he continues to be.

A monster, a warlord and a criminal.

There was one fragment of time when he was surrounded by those that loved him, and then they were taken from him.

The dreams of cutting through thick scales, of tearing parts of himself off, throwing them across the cave floor, shivering in the corner. He begs and pleads with gods that don't listen, to fix him. To make him better. To make him worthy.

Good.

Instead he is punished, and reminded of why he is a beast. A failure. A creature to despise.

His hands useless when faced with the blood splattered members of his family. The once warm home turned to a desolate cave, full of nothing but remains.

Home is deeply embedded in a soul, the parts of himself that he wishes he could erase, will never leave him. He is a beast that has little value, outside of what he can provide. Be it a scapegoat, or sating greed.

Throughout his life, he has abandoned being seen as anything other than a monster. That even you, with eyes full of hatred and hurt, had seen him that way. Fury curling your lip, and snarl in your throat. Lunging for him with the knife in your hand.

He has been alone for such a long time, he has forgotten how to be around others. Luke and Kieran are the sole exception. They are unbothered by his harsh tone, finding him more amusing than terrifying. It should not surprise him that EVER are as capable of breaking a mind, as the Justiciers were. They may as well be cut from the same disgusting cloth. He sometimes wonders if they are.

So when he snarks, or bites, or teases, they respond with laughter and response. He has adapted to their countenance. Understands that they will mirror what he offers back.

You… sometimes you respond in kind, biting and scratching, little crooked smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye. Other times, you ache. Look at him like his words have cut somewhere he can't reach to heal. That is when he eases, remembers a field of flowers and the ways he wanted to be before the world decided to destroy dream and hope.

He thinks he is learning to be around you, how to hold you without hurting, and how to soothe your heart with his words and actions. How to be who he wants to be… a fragment of the man left over from the moment he truly thought you could be together after you shared your souls.

With poetry and music, he has carved out a place as himself, so that he can share it with you. In a world where he gets more time, and more space, to share and offer what he is to you. Regardless of what the world says about him, he has only ever cared what you say about him.

He is learning to believe the words you offer him, as who he truly is.

You may not remember, but he always will.

He is, however, still adjusting to the others. He has no basis for adjusting to others, it has been too long since he was in a home that was warm. He has approached them similarly to Luke and Kieran, and while their responses rumble his chest. Fill him with amusement at the discovery of something new, he is aware that they are not as unbothered.

The doctor will ignore him if he teases, until his buttons are pressed enough that he will get a furrow between his brow and speak to Sylus in a voice that is deep and close to a growl. He finds the push entertaining, because breaking people who are so upstanding is a sick satisfaction of sorts.

There are, however, moments when he returns with a wound, and the doctor tends to it. Your hands aren't as steady yet to handle a needle and thread when his EVOL cannot help repair him. The shackles around his power too sturdy, too hindering, and he cannot keep pulling your resonance to him until you feel stronger. Wary of pushing you too far, or making you feel as though that is all he wants. As the doctor watches over him, carefully mending his skin, he wonders at the concern in the man's eyes. Teases him for it.

To worry for a criminal. Not many would.

It receives a huff and eyeroll, and a slight pressure in his wound as the needle pushes through skin, "What you are doesn't matter, who you are does."

Sylus finds himself thinking about it, he knows the doctor is a moral man. His files affirmed that much, observations to understand your life. To blend in better… to be part of it.

It still feels odd for the doctor to help tend to his wounds. Like he doesn't deserve it.

He finds the fish the most fun to tease, to argue with, no fire in his words as the fish gets more agitated with him. He reminds him of you, feline-like and prone to swishing his tail and baring fangs. You are jovial with yours ever since he has gained access to your life with affection. The fish it depends, on his mood, on his health, on the day of the week. Some days he enjoys the clash, Sylus notes, finding the chance to bite and growl fun, other days it is accompanied by genuine frustration. Evening out as the months have gone on, settling down to be less angry.

The more they argue, the more Sylus sees the entertainment in his eyes, even though the fish denies it. There are times when he sees the man painting, stepping over to watch the paint to canvas. Sometimes the fish will ask if he's looking for anything in particular.

"I'm trying to understand." He answers honestly sometimes.

He would be ashamed at the widening of the fish's eyes, but then he shrugs, and speaks as he paints, "Everyone sees something different in my work, some see nothing at all. I see something that others may not. Doesn't matter what you see, as long as it's what you see." 

So Sylus stands, and watches him paint, and thinks. The fish makes no other comments, but moves to the side a little, so that he can see better. So he can study easier. Sylus thinks he sees the sunrise over daturas, another day coming, this one with more hope than the last.

He later goes to buy one of the fish's paintings. To think about more.

The prince is more complicated, he is quiet and he sleeps often. Sylus is unsure if he's sick, or simply prefers the land of dreams to reality. If he had been asked many years ago, he would have agreed. Dreams had been the only time he had kissed you, afterall.

He teases the prince, but receives little in response, except for the occasional cold look. The moments he understands the man most are when Xavier is helping you. He notes the way he lights up, and takes account of the differences. It is in small actions, often that you may not notice, but Sylus does.

He, along with the doctor, ensure Xavier's pillow is clean, that he has food when he returns from missions, that he isn't eating junk food every day.

That when he returns, there is something warmer waiting for him.

Sylus thinks if it were him, that is what he would want, after long days working.

This process, of understanding, of learning, unsettles him to begin with. That he is changing, not just for you, but for others. He enjoys feeding you and your heart, and he begins to look forward to reactions to his food from the others. It is a strange feeling to sit down at a table with others, to share food.

It is… pleasant. The voice that sounds like yours speaks in his mind. Like your busy soul in his chest. Singing and dancing everytime he teases the fish, or chuckles at the doctor's dry wit, or realigns the blanket on the prince's shoulder.

He enjoys his days more, the more you grow and become yourself. No longer as restricted into yourself. No longer aching as dearly. He sees when the days are harder, but you are brighter. He knows that being able to hunt again, likely buoyed you beyond anything else. Still, he is relieved to have a hand in helping you climb the cliff out of the abyss.

Sylus was honest, when he told the others that he had no intention of leaving. That no matter what your heart spoke to you, his path would always lead him to you. That he would keep hold of your hand as long as you wanted it. No matter what form it took. That he was not simply there for your heart but every part of you, that no matter the snapping fangs of fate, you are his destiny.

He has spent too long without you, he is not about to lose you now that he has you again.

While he has long known himself to be greedy, craving your presence, what contact he can receive, every laugh from your lips, every look in your eyes that tells him more than your mouth has managed to… He has found himself craving more.

The warmth around a table he has never known.

The return to a home that is not empty, or full of skeletons.

A place that does not tell him he is a monster.

Perhaps it is the blood on the fish's hands, and the blood on the prince's, that he knows he is not a beast to them.

It is the lack of judgement in the doctor's eyes, that he still matters despite what he has been created to be, forced into being.

Every choice he has made, every path he has taken, he has never expected to find those who do not look at him and see what he is told he is.

You bring change to his life, no matter the time. Opening up worlds he cannot hope to understand in just a moment. He needs many moments, all of them. So he is greedy, he does desire, and he knows those feelings will never fade away from his soul. That hungers and needs and demands.

Seeking the warmth of this space for as long as he can, not leaving its embrace without good cause, just like he does not leave yours easily, when it is offered to him.

Sylus can only hope you will see his heart as well, and accept it once more.

He is, however, struggling with the fact that his kitten has decided to become jumpy once more. Skittering out of his grasp, fleeing at the first moment.

The recent weeks you had sat in thought, mumbling to yourself, keeping them at arm's length. He has seen you leave with Tara and Simone, and he has waited for you to come to him.

To explain the startled look that you give when he sneaks up on you. To finally stop running away from him.

He believes that he is growing accustomed to you, that he knows now when you run from him to hide in an alley, to lick wounds that you're too scared to show, when he would happily dress them for you. To when you are simply thinking, and processing, and trying to find the space to work out how to approach.

He did not lie when he said he did not wish to pry, despite his impatience, and his need to know everything there is to know about you. He does not want to pull it out with his EVOL or against your will. You will speak to him when you are ready.

Sylus does find the skittish nature somewhat adorable, but the fact that he has not been able to hold you, touch you for any long period of time, or share a bed with you as you slept and he watched over, is bothersome. He misses watching you lower your guard, and he does not want to go back to when you daren't even touch him casually with a tease.

So he uses the morning to try to… corner you. He will not pry into your mind, but he will seek out the touch of your hand. Place it against his chest, and let you feel your joined hearts beat a song against his ribcage.

Instead, however, as he approaches you before you leave, intending to go out with Tara, yet again, he is called by the twins. Demanding his time, a report that cannot wait. Time he cannot waste, because he needs to see to Onychinus.

As much as he wishes to tell them to handle it, he has not heard them sound so frantic and serious in a long time. While he has little desire to leave, he is not willing to abandon them or his organisation, when he needs both.

Sylus catches your hand before you pull away, tugging you into his arms and crowding you against the door.

"Sy?" Your voice shakes, soft against his ears, as beautiful as always.

He leans down, long fingers tilting your face up so that he can look at you. Mismatched eyes wide, and trembling with something. Something he wants, something he yearns for, something he desires desperately. Waiting for the moment you speak it into existence.

"Have a good day, kitten. Miss me." His lips brush against your temple, and he inhales against your hair, before leaving you.

Not before he feels the twitch to your fingers, and the tightening of your grip…

And the soft, pleased exhale against his skin.

—-----------

You have spent two hours setting up. Two hours spent scurrying around, cooking, decorating, arranging.

Tara has run in to grab supplies for you as well, eager and excited. You're sure it's so she can hear every single detail when you're done, but you're thankful. You can leave the house alone, but it is always to meet someone. Being alone in a supermarket fills you with dread, least of all because of your arm.

She doesn't question, and she helps. When she finishes lining the things up you forgot, she offers further help which you reject.

You have to do this, you have to make this worth it. They have raised you up off the ground, caught you when you slipped. You have to return it.

You know they would not ask, would not want you to see it as something to return, but you have to make them see.

When you have struggled, or been tired, or worn down, they have offered food, or gifts, or presence. If that is how they show you that they care, you will return it.

You can only hope you return it in the way you hope.

There are some half deflated balloons that you failed to breathe enough air into, your lungs aching before you could even get through one. You are not as dextrous with your metal hand, so when you cut ingredients they are uneven. You fight to swallow the irritation and the pain in your chest. Even though the need to cry burns at them at things you cannot quite get right.

That it has to be perfect. You have to be perfect. Even if you never were, and even if you never can be. At least for this, you want to be…

There's a voice in your head, cold as the chain around your ankle, that reminds you you're incapable of perfection. That you are going to mess this up, and hurt yourself and others.

The knife trembles in your grip as your limb shakes.

It is a squawk that shakes you out of it, Mephisto flies over in a flurry of feathers and glowing red. To settle on your metal shoulder, talons steadying him. He has gotten familiar with perching there over time, since you stopped flinching at anyone touching your prosthetic.

It has become his favoured perch.

His feathers settle, and he bumps your cheek with his head, keeps red eyes on you as your hand settles.

He does not move, as you resume cutting, as you breathe through the feeling, edges closer to the heat of your neck with his body overtime. You think if a robot bird can sleep, he would do so settled there.

His presence helps, he reminds you of Sylus, but he also reminds you that you're not alone. That even the robot bird that Sylus denies is his pet, cares to see you keep going. It silences the beast at your ankle enough that you keep going.

You prepare meals that Caleb taught you how to cook, when he worried you wouldn't be able to survive alone during your studies, even though he never left you alone long enough to really go that long without food. Turning up at the apartment you shared with friends when he got chance, to hand you over a tupperware of food. To poke around the place and make sure you were alright. To lie on your bed and listen to you tell him about what you had been doing.

Even if you lied. That things were fine, that you were doing well. You knew he saw the truth, but you think he just liked the moment to listen to you talk. To see you in front of him. Alive.

You think you understand better now, how he felt. It always hurts to remember that it took losing him to realise.

Tara's words about regrets flit in and out of your mind. That there would be things you wished you'd done if you died tomorrow. As you cook, and you think about the last hour you have before the people you care about return, you know there's a few.

You're going to make an effort to tick them off.

—-----

He has been listening to the twins talk for two hours, and he cannot help but feel like this meeting should have been a call. Or a message.

The twins aren't stupid, despite their chaotic inclinations and their need to cause trouble wherever they can, they don't often bother him without need. Not concerning work. He trusts their capabilities for a reason. Despite their curiosity over if someone will ever claim his head.

He has been tempted to tell them that you are the one, but has decided when the day comes for you to cut his shackles, he would rather see the looks on the twins' faces.

No warning. He imagines it would be quite a sight. He hopes they're not wearing their masks when it happens.

Still, as he reads through his messages, he thinks he knows why they dragged him out here.

So he looks at them, watches as they chat. Luke waves his hands as he speaks, and there is something he notes. The two are trying to feed off each other's energy. Getting more animated as they go.

They are running out of fodder.

"You two-" They jump as his voice drops, looking at him through their crow masks, "are you going to explain why Kitten sent you to summon me away?"

"We don't work for the Hunter!"

"We work for you, boss."

"That's not an answer to my question."

"Why would we follow their orders-"

"-when we don't work for them?"

He says nothing, watches them, watches the way their shoulders pull in, and they gravitate towards each other. As if being closer will defend them from the glowing red eye in Sylus' head.

Before he even gets time to pry, they deflate. "Aww man, we didn't even manage three hours like they asked."

"We got close though bro. Two hours and twenty minutes with the boss, that's good going."

"Is it enough?"

"You two!" He raises a brow, and watches as they look at each other, then back at him.

"We were told to keep you away for three hours, so they could do something at home."

"Don't tell them we told you, they'll be disappointed…"

He's joked before that you have the two acting like your henchmen, and he's starting to realise it is not simply a joke. He shouldn't be surprised, he supposes. You have full control over Onychinus, every password, the location of every base, access to all of his weapons.

Full dominion over him.

Of course you've won over the twins.

"They won't be disappointed." Sylus sighs, "I'll stay for the last fourty minutes." It's a small concession, time wasted in favour of not ruining whatever you are doing. He could check with Mephisto but there is some warning in his chest. Over the heart he has shared with you, that asks him to wait.

That the waiting is worth it.

So he will wait for the three requested hours, and not a second longer.

It is a long wait, however, so while the twins chatter to him, they have abandoned mission reports and are now sharing information on games they want to play, or places they've been, he messages the other three.

The minutes go slower than expected, but finally he watches it pass, and stands.

"Have fun boss!"

"Good luck!"

He doesn't question them, he's almost curious what you told them to gain their help, but he thinks if it was any plan to be mischievous with him, they'd accept without any reason.

There is a kind of satisfaction in knowing he has the twisted loyalty of the two, they certainly don't work in any way his enemies would understand.

He also doesn't hate the fact they bring a smile to your face, or you to theirs.

When he finally returns to the apartment, he sees the other three sat outside, staring at the door. "You all look like loiterers. You're going to get reported. How will the good doctor cope with a criminal record?"

"How does one suit you?"

"Always a story to tell at parties."

The prince's head is resting on the fish's shoulder, he blinks a little, "You're late." Before he stretches and stands.

"Yeah crow, we've been waiting."

"Rafayel almost walked a hole into the floor going around in circles." Xavier adds.

"You almost broke the door down."

"Impatient." He yawns, shrugging as if it's not a problem. "Sylus can replace the door again, it's fine."

"Have you forgotten your fingerprints are registered?" Sylus asks, raising a brow.

"Quicker to break through the door."

He watches as the doctor rubs at the bridge of his nose, sighing so deeply he's surprised he doesn't fall under the weight of it, "You two act like such children sometimes."

"Not gonna share the macarons I bought with you then."

The doctor frowns, the furrow of his brow deepening, turning his face so he can hide some of the blush on his cheeks, "I'm alright with that."

"They're strawberry."

"I apologise."

"Too easy doctor."

"Can we go in now?" Rafayel stands, barely holding himself back from beginning to bounce on the heels of his feet.

"Alright fish."

Sylus watches as Rafayel opens the door. When it swings open, and they enter, the first thing he notices is bunting.

Hung from the ceiling, along the walls, in purples and blues. There are large red ribbons tied around chairs. Balloons half inflated on the floor in pink and green. A banner along the length of the dining table that has 'Thank you' drawn onto it in messy block letters, yellow stars decorated around it.

All four of them pause. The smell of fresh food, plates and bowls piled high on the table. And gift wrapped boxes, messily wrapped with some torn paper, next to each of their seats.

You are standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot to music, bouncing a little on the spot. Singing along with Mephisto whose squawks leave a lot to be desired in the music department.

He is sure that in this they are unified. Watching as you sing, and move, and twirl to grab something from the side. The feeling in his chest is molten and bright and warm, and if he ever loses it he knows he will have truly died.

"Kitten." Escapes him on an exhale as you smile that familiar crooked smile to yourself.

Your spatula clatters to the floor as you twirl to face him, and see all four of them. "Oh, I lost track of time, shit." You squat to clean up the mess in a panic, receiving a disgruntled cry from Mephisto as he flies off his favoured perch over to sit on the top of a dining chair.

"What is all of this?" The doctor asks, as Xavier rushes over to help you clean up.

You hesitate where you stand, toying with your fingers, before pointing over at the table, "I wanted to thank you."

"You don't have to thank us, cutie. Is this why you've been so jumpy?"

You close your eyes and he watches as you take in a long inhale, steadying yourself, and shivering a little, before you open them again. Flames burning in the depths of them, "No. I wanted to tell you something."

He wants to make a joke that you look like you're about to go to war, as you walk past them and indicate the table, to where there are gifts on the table, each with an initial scrawled on the paper. Yet there's a feeling like if he jokes, he's going to shatter something, and he hesitates before pushing it down, to follow as you lead.

He finds the one with an S, and lifts it up, it's a cube wrapped in black and red paper, with a small golden ribbon. He can tell you've torn the paper, struggling with the hand you still can't control for intricate work. You have given him one gift before, the handmade crow phone charm, one he knows matches the charms for the others. It's crooked and it's not perfect, but you made it. For him.

He has shot a man for almost breaking it during a fight.

His chest feels too hot, as a dragon he isn't sure he's ever felt such a thing before. He thinks if he had really kissed you that day so long ago, before it had all shattered, it would feel like this. It makes him feel sick, but he wants it to last forever.

"They're nothing big, it's. I wanted- You needed-" You sit then, slumping and covering your face to force their air in and out of your lungs, "Sorry. Please open them."

The paper comes away easy, and nestled inside with tissue paper is a red mug with a crow that looks suspiciously like that plushie you'd had him catch, and a key inside, with a series of charms. A crow, a star, a snowflake and a fish. He hesitates as he stares at it, hand careful. Like he could crush it easily if he tenses too hard.

Like it will shatter if he moves just a little.

Disappear if he blinks.

"Rafayel was right, when he told me that the password to your place can change easily, your key can't." You're looking down as you speak, and he can see you out of the corner of his eye, though he doesn't want to look away from his gift, "Well I could change the locks, I guess, but it's- That's not the point."

There's a wince before you tighten your hands into fists in front of you, the air is still and they watch. He can feel something and he's not sure what it is.

"You all made sure I could stand back up again, you were here for me when I needed you and wanted you. I wanted- needed you to know that I'll always want you here. That when you go back home, you're welcome anytime, that I-" Your voice keeps trembling, and pausing, and he wants to reach out, to hold you, to take your face in his hands, to cry with you he thinks, "I love you all so much. I needed you to know, before you went. Before this was over, and I had to say bye to this life."

"Cutie, do-"

"I love you. The- ah- the kind with- shit. I should have written this down."

He finally releases the keychain, approaches you as your hand trembles, eases his thumb over your skin, and watches as Xavier hooks his chin over your shoulder. Zayne and Rafayel crouch down to look up at you, a hand pressed to your knees. The contact eases the strain out of your body, but you must feel the small tremor in his, because you tighten your grip on him.

When you speak, you have found your ground, "I never settled down long enough to think about it, what you all are. I knew you were important, precious, but I didn't have a name for it, or wanted to think about it. I was sure if I didn't think about it, if I lost you it wouldn't hurt as much. If something happened to me, you'd be alright." He watches hands tighten against your skin, because he knows his own does, losing you is not an option, "I was wrong. Even though so many days have hurt, or felt like agony, you were home for me. Safe. You feel like love should feel. When I think about where I want to be, it's anywhere you are."

Your hand shakes as you reach out, to ease over Zayne's cheek with your fingers with your metal fingers. Flinching when he gasps at it, when he leans into your hand, taking it in his to press it further against his skin. "I don't know where to go from here, or what you all want. I know I'm asking a lot, and I understand if you don't feel the same way. I needed you to know, before you left, when I was ready. I don't want to keep looking back, I want to move forwards."

There is a shudder in your frame as you swallow, you take the time to look at them all, even though the angle Xavier at pulls at your neck, and Sylus feels that feeling he got when he used to fly, when you hold his gaze. Freedom, falling, soaring. Able to go anywhere, and do anything. When he held you and soared when you could not sleep, while he can't do that now, he can always take you on the back of his bike. Every sleepless night.

Forever.

"I love you."

It is measured, it is careful, and it is spoken on a tremble. Unused to vulnerability, wilfully shown. A wound on display, not hidden and kept under covers. No longer smothered under the bloody blanket, no longer trembling in the darkness.

He watches you look at him, tears streaming down your face with the weight of feelings he knows you struggle to process, and he was right.

You truly are beautiful when you cry and let him see.

"We're not going anywhere, darling." Zayne whispers against your hand, as he kisses against your palm. Cool lips against cool metal. You close your eyes at the feeling, shiver down your spine.

"You're home, starlight." Xavier nods, brushing lips against your cheek.

"Of course we love you cutie, forever, and always."

Sylus watches as Rafayel kisses your knee and squeezes your leg, watches more tears spill from your eyes, in what he knows is relief. Turns your hand so he can press his lips to your wrist, to your palm, to your fingertips, and sighs against your skin, "Thank you for telling us, beloved."

Thank you for loving him again. For embracing him once more.

For seeing him as more than a monster. For seeing a future that he has a part in.

For walking the path with him once more.

For accepting him as your home.

Later when Sylus has had his moment of breathing in the scent of you. Eased against the junction of your neck, hand tracing shapes into your hip. Whispering affection and murmurs of beloved against your skin.

When they have eaten, when mugs have been placed in the cupboard of your apartment, waiting for when they are needed. When he has stared at the key you have given him willingly. Offering him entrance whenever he wishes, trusting him in your territory. That he watches you sleep against the doctor's chest. Relieved and exhausted.

He knows there is more to do, conversations to have, things to fix, to arrange, but he feels like he is finally back at the starting line, prepared for the race ahead.

As he places your prosthetic back on its stand, and pulls a blanket over the prince who has rested his head in your lap, and cleans up some of the mess, so that the fish can paint the image in front of him, he leans down to place a kiss to your head.

Sylus thinks back to the empty cave, the blood splatter and the bones of the past. He thinks about loneliness and eternal exhaustion, of a search for something he worried he may never grasp again.

He is a boy again, standing in the cave, surrounded by family and loved ones, and this time, he has the power to protect it.

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 22

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating, depiction of an anxiety attack

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: ♡PENED

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,972

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this chapter so soon but on of you sent me a ko-fi and it kinda motivated me to get this chapter done and out.

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You flip through the menu for the fifth time trying to figure out what to eat. Hyunjin and Wonseok happily chat along in their own little world about some art movement—you lost the plot of their conversation ages ago when they started about a specific type of paint and technique that you’re not even going to try to pronounce. Changbin sits across from you, absent-mindedly fiddling with his menu and nodding to the ongoing conversation.

“Are we boring you so much that you’re just going through the menu? Again?” Wonseok asks suddenly.

“I don’t know what to eat,” You grumble quietly.

Wonseok reaches over and turns a few pages in your menu. When he finds the page he's looking for he traces the page with his finger until he lands on one of the menu items. "They have fish and chips right here."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd take us to an actual restaurant. I can't order fish and chips while the three of you order...whatever you're going to order. It's like if I went to a restaurant back home and just ordered tteok-bokki...or if we were in the States and I got chicken tenders and fries." You gently push Wonseok's hand away from you and roll your eyes.

Wonseok pulls back his hand and brings it to his temples, almost as if he's starting to get a headache. "This is probably the only time I'm going to get to treat professional idols to a meal, I'm not just going to give them street food. Just order what you really want to eat because you're not going to be able to order fish and chips for dinner at the place we're going to. I don't want to hear you complain about not eating what you wanted for the rest of my life."

You huff out a 'fine' as you close your menu and set it to the side. Your eyes land on Changbin who is quietly scribbling something on a piece of paper that seems to have materialized. You quietly shake your head and turn your attention to Hyunjin who is looking between you and Wonseok, thinking hard about something.

"You know, Wonnie, Hyunjin is an amazing artist." You pull up your broken arm from resting on your lap. "He's the one who drew all over my cast. He posts some of his stuff on his Instagram. He's probably even carrying around his sketchbook in that tote bag of his..."

"Ah, noona..." Hyunjin's voice trails off as he scratches the back of his neck. You can't see his ears under his hat but you can almost imagine how red they're getting.

Wonseok takes your broken arm and carefully examines the doodles and drawings on your cast. Most of them are flowers and plants. Occasionally, there are little characters like the BbokAri he drew next to Felix's message and the puppy next to Seungmin's. There's hardly any room left for anyone else to write anything. Before you forbade any of the members from hanging out with you without someone else there, Hyunjin would find his way to you when he was bored and draw on your arm.

"Wow, these are amazing, Hyunjin! Do you mind if I look at your sketchbook?"

Your arm is returned to you as Wonseok and Hyunjin get wrapped up in yet another art-filled conversation. Changbin is still focused on his piece of paper, scribbling away. Part of you wishes you could pull out the small tablet you brought with you so you could work on editing photos on the ride to the gallery. But you know that'll only cause Wonseok to scold you for working when you're not supposed to. If you could offer more thought to Wonseok and Hyunjin's conversation that isn't just regurgitated garbage from your first-year introduction to art history course that you took back in university, then you could easily join in their conversation.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you sit up a bit straighter in your seat and rest your chin in your good hand. "What are you so focused on writing there Changbin?"

There's a moment of silence between the two of you. He pauses writing but you're not sure if he heard you or is thinking of what to write.

"Lyrics," He mumbles so softly that you almost miss it amongst the noise that is Wonseok and Hyunjin chattering loudly beside you.

"Did you get an idea just now?" You perk up in your seat a bit. "Can...can I see? I won't write about it. It's all off the record."

Changbin's head stays low, focusing on writing his lyrics. It's only now that you're reminded of his inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. The fact that he answered you earlier is strange and probably the most he can do.

You watch him silently as he works. You take note of all of the little things you see. Like the way his brows twitch as he tries not to furrow then while he scribbles something out. Or how the fingers on his nondominant hand dance on the table while his head subtly bops along to a rhythm only known to him. Whether he's simultaneously creating a beat in his head while he works or he's remembering a song that one of the other members of 3racha made is another unknown factor that you wish you knew the answer to. You notice the way he mouths out the words he's writing to himself and how quickly he presses his lips together and shakes his head when it appears to not flow correctly. You can only imagine that this is what it was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel; hypotonic.

You only break out of your trance when your server comes to the table and takes your order, something that neither you nor Changbin noticed until Wonseok and Hyunjin told you. And that's when Changbin finally looked up and caught you staring at him, forcing you to look away as heat rose to your face. Wonseok took advantage of the situation and ordered your food for you before you could change your mind.

After lunch, the four of you decided to walk around London for a bit. When you were working with Han and Seungmin yesterday, you made sure to avoid the more populated and obvious tourist areas, only capturing notable landmarks in the distant background. With more freedom to explore, you all head to the more touristy areas so Hyunjin and Changbin can blend in more seamlessly.

As you walk along the crowded streets, the earlier pain you felt inside the art galley quickly comes back. You're paying less attention to the conversation between Wonseok and Hyunjin and more to your surroundings. Despite the cool day, you feel suffocatingly hot. Almost like something is sucking all of the air out of your lungs.

"...Y/n!"

You snap out of whatever daze you're in at the sound of Wonseok's worried voice. You glance up to meet three concerned faces watching you carefully.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Your voice is thick is unsteady as you're unable to meet any of their eyes.

"Are you okay? You're walking slowly. I thought we lost you in the crowd for a moment there."

You swallow hard as you try to settle your rapidly beating heart. "I think I ate too much earlier. My stomach hurts."

"You look kind of pale, noona," Hyunjin chimes in. "Maybe we should head back to the hotel?"

You wave Hyunjin off quickly. "N-no, it's okay. I just need a moment."

"I'll go get you some water." Wonseok's voice softens with a gentle tone as he looks around for a shop.

Hyunjin places one hand on Wonseok's shoulder, stopping him from trying to look through the crowd. He pulls his bucket hat off with his other hand, gaining a clear view of the area. "We've been here a few times. I think I know where there's a shop nearby. I'll help you find it, hyung."

"Okay, thank you. Changbin, are you okay watching Y/n?" Wonseok asks the younger man.

Too focused on the unsettling feeling growing through your body, you don't notice that Changbin's already watching you. He's been silently keeping an eye on you since you started to fall behind on your walk. Had Wonseok waited a second longer to notice you, Changbin would have said something to bring their attention to you.

"I got her," He says simply.

With that, Hyunjin tosses something at Changbin and leads Wonseok forward through the crowd. Changbin quietly pulls you off to the side away from the crowd, under the shade of a tree. You mumble out what you hope is a 'thank you,' and focus on Changbin's shoes. They're white sneakers a blue stripe going through them. Subconsciously, you start to count the small holes near the end of the shoe while you place your hand on your chest. You feel your heart beating rather quickly like it's beating a little too hard and might give out at any moment. You apply as much pressure with your hand and take deep, unsteady breaths as you try to calm your heart.

You feel something cover your head, partly obstructing your vision and muffling the outside noise. You look back up at Changbin who is now adjusting Hyunjin's bucket hat that he put on your head.

"Professional idol secret," His words come slowly as he continues to fix the rim around the hat. "A lot of us don't do well in crowds so we wear bucket hats to block out the noise and the view a bit. Fans think we wear them to hide our hair for comebacks, but most of the time it's to protect our sanity."

You swallow dryly, unable to wet your suddenly parched throat. "I go to concerts and fan signs for a living. I do well in crowds."

Changbin crouches down so you can see him under the protection of the bucket hat, a tender smile warms his whole face. It's the first time you've seen him smile since the gallery. "In the past, yeah, but...you have the same expression on your face that you've been getting when we're at the airport lately. You kind of look like Hannie when he's having an anxiety attack."

"I don't have anxiety attacks," You're not sure if you're telling Changbin or reassuring yourself. You can't remember a single moment in your life where you've had an anxiety attack. So why would you start now?

"Okay," Changbin nods before standing up straight again, your view of him is once again obstructed by the hat. He gently takes your hand off of your chest and places it on his own. "At the very least, match my breathing. You sound like you just ran a marathon and I can't help you if you pass out. I don't know cpr."

The two of you stand there for a moment. Changbin's hand is firmly on yours as he keeps it on his chest. You have no choice but to match his breathing by following the steady rising and falling of his chest. You can feel the subtle, yet rapid thuds of his heart beating in his chest despite how calm he is.

Slowly, but surely, your own breathing falls into its own steady rhythm and the strange feeling in your body dissipates. You're not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like that, but eventually you drop your hand from his chest and Changbin let's you.

"Better?"

You slowly nod your head. Most of your discomfort is gone, but you still feel jittery. Almost as if you injected straight caffeine into your bloodstream. "Yeah, I just need to sit down."

Changbin doesn't ask further questions and instead leads you to the small grassy area near the tree and urges you to sit. He joins you on the grass, falling back into silence. Now that you're relatively back to normal, you can't help but avoid looking at Changbin. You're more thankful for the hat now that it can help you avoid his gaze.

The two of you sit there in silence for a few more minutes before Wonseok and Hyunjin find you. Hyunjin is about to question why you're wearing his hat before Changbin stands up and pulls Hyunjin to the side for a moment to talk to him.

Wonseok takes one of the empty spots beside you and rummages through the plastic bag he brought back with you. He pulls out a water bottle and a small metal tin and hands them to you. "I watched a TikTok ages ago and a doctor on there said that mint is supposed to be good for an upset stomach."

"Thank you," You smile tiredly at Wonseok.

Hyunjin and Changbin make their way back to you. Hyunjin takes the other open spot next to you while Changbin sits on the other side of him. They're quiet for a moment while you continue to drink your water and eat the mints that Wonseok bought. Wonseok passes out the other water bottles from his bag to Hyunjin and Changbin.

Surprisingly, Changbin breaks the silence first, asking if the store that Wonseok and Hyunjin went to was crowded. Then the conversation shifted to what everyone planned to do later. Wonseok tells them about your now tentative dinner plans, which leads to an argument. You change the subject to see what the newlywed couple of the group had planned. The conversation shifts again, this time to souvenirs that all of you want to get. Which of course leads to another teasing argument that ends with Wonseok trying to make you spill water on yourself.

"You two are such a cute couple. How long hav--"

You choke on your water as Hyunjin's words catch you off guard and trickle down the wrong pipe. Wonseok has his own visceral reaction, one that you don't see but you can hear the sound of him gagging at the question. Still, Wonseok slaps your back to help you get the water out.

"We--are not--dating." You choke out as you try to regain your composure.

"Y/n is like my little sister," Wonseok adds as he drops his hand back to his side.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin have confused expressions as they watch the two of you. Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he lets out confused babbles. "Sorry, I just thought...you two are...when..."

"Wonseok hyung is older than you but you two talk casually. Plus you're so close." Changbin says finally. Hyunjin shuts his mouth and nods quickly, agreeing with Changbin's reasoning.

"That's because Wonnie is a pathological liar--ouch!" You rub the spot on your leg where Wonseok hit you and glare at him. Although, you're not sure he saw your face through the hat.

"Stop telling people that I'm a pathological liar." You don't have to see to know that he's rolling his eyes. Wonseok shifts a bit and faces Hyunjin and Changbin. "I enlisted right after I graduated high school to get my military service over with. I ended up liking it so much that I stayed for two more years. When I finally enrolled in university, I was so much older than everyone in my classes that I just never mentioned how old I was. I met Y/n our senior year during our internship so I never said anything. She didn't know that I was older until we got our official IDs with our birth year on them."

"And he's so much older," You crack a smile.

"Stop that, I'm only 3 years older than you."

"Whatever," You wave him off as you turn back to the two younger men. "Besides, we're really like family. His parents treat us like siblings."

"Plus I have a girlfriend."

"And he has a girlfri..." Your voice falters in the middle of your sentence as you think about it for a moment. You turn to Wonseok and blink for a moment as you try to process what's happening. "You got a girlfriend? You actually got a woman to talk to you? Romantically? Who is it? Do I know her?"

His lips form a line so tight that the skin around them turns white while he tries to think. You flip part of the bucket hat up so you can see his have better. He's looking down at a blade of grass, contemplating something before he meets your eyes. "Frankie,"

"My Frankie?"

"Well, technically our Frankie but yeah." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"Oh," Your heart rapidly sinks to the bottom of your stomach.

You physically bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking a million questions. Knowing that your best friends are dating behind your back hurts. Especially when there's an unspoken agreement against keeping secrets. So why did…

"I'm going to throw this all away and then we can explore a bit more." You get up quickly and take everyone's now empty water bottle.

If you stay where you are and continue to let your mind wander any further, you're going to either say something rude to Wonseok or burst into tears. You're happy that your friends found happy relationships. But they kept it from you and the idea of that doesn't feel good in your head or your heart.

"Noona--"

Wonseok puts his arm out, preventing Changbin from going after you. You're out of ear range as you walk quickly to the trashcan. Wonseok turns to both younger men and shares a small smile. "I get it but if you try to comfort Y/n when she's upset, it's going to become a bigger issue. Trust me, she hate when people see her upset or cry. Just let her have a moment and then she'll be okay."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[2i1han]

chapter 1 : "what happened to us?"

𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 | park wonbin

pairing : wonbin x reader / reader addressed as heo sori

genre : heavy romance , angst , mature , drama | wc : 9k

warnings : adult themes , toxic relationship , mentions of cheating , mild language , fade to black , slice of life

playlist : whisper / park jiwoo , heavy heart / rio , the rose song / rio , where am i / jiyul , youra / ral 9002 , k. / cas , when dawn comes again / colde , let it begin / say sue me , new boots / rio

a love that was once passionate but toxic leaves you and wonbin trapped in a cycle of desire, distance, and unresolved emotions. even after breaking up, both of you keep finding your way back to each other. as jealousy, regret, and unspoken feelings pull and push you apart, the two of you are forced to confront whether you're doomed to repeat the mistakes or finally break free.

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 |

you're curled up in the corner of your dimly lit apartment, surrounded by silence so thick it almost feels tangible. the air is stale, heavy with the scent of neglect—unwashed sheets, a forgotten cup of coffee on the table. your eyes, bloodshot from too many sleepless nights, barely aware of the world outside the window. the only light filtering in is the cold, bluish glow of the late-night sky, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls.

your lips are pale, cracked from dehydration, and your hair, tangled and unkempt, clings to your damp forehead. the shirt you're wearing is the same one from yesterday, maybe the day before too, but you can't bring yourself to care. the dried crust of tears remains on your cheek, your mouth slightly parted as you stare blankly ahead.

you don't know when it started—when your life began to snap like a thread pulled too hard. you don't know when you became this version of yourself, this hollow, distant stranger you hardly recognize. a monster, maybe. everyone who once mattered is gone, slipping through your fingers like sand, and deep down, you know why. you've always known why.

your friend, the one you swore you couldn't live without. your mother, who once held you with hands so warm you thought nothing could ever break you. the only friend you had since university, the one who stayed until you finally found a simple job you loved. and now, even that's gone.

you used to love flowers. you used to believe they were delicate, beautiful, a reflection of life itself—just like your mother always said. but now, you can't stand them. you can't stand the sight of them, the scent, the idea of them. you don't love being a florist anymore. you don't love yourself anymore.

and you don't know who to blame. the world? fate? yourself? or is it park wonbin? either way, you're still here. still ruined. and you have no idea how to get back up.

━━━

it wasn't always like this. once, your life had color, warmth. you were raised with so much love that even in rooms filled with fear, you could chase it away. you grew up believing life was full of beauty. hardships came and went, but you carried love and gentleness like armor, believing that even in chaos, there was something worth holding onto.

to love is to hurt. but to love is also to turn hurt into strength.

that included the man who once walked into the flower shop you're working at, shifting everything in your world without even knowing it.

he had long, dirty blonde hair, slightly messy but effortlessly cool. a gray beanie pulled low over his forehead, black leather jacket clung on his broad shoulders. his presence was quiet, but something about him demanded attention. and dangling from his left shoulder is a camera.

he paused at the entrance for just a moment. his gaze found you, lingering for a second longer than necessary—like he recognized you. like you were someone familiar in a life he couldn't remember. but then, just as quickly, he smirked and walked forward, stepping past the threshold and toward the counter where you stood.

you barely spared him a glance at first, just a fleeting look before offering the same warm smile you gave to every customer. effortless and soft. the kind of smile that made people think you had never known sadness.

"what can i get you today, sir?" your voice was light, and delicate.

his attention flicked back to you as you spoke, and the smirk returned. he studied you for a while, but you held his gaze without faltering.

"ten red roses. no need to wrap them fancy," he said.

you nodded, mouthing a small "okay" before stepping out from behind the counter. the small trapdoor creaked as you pushed through, the hem of your long white skirt swaying gently around your ankles. you tucked your baby blue cardigan closer around your frame as you walked toward the section where the red roses sat in neat rows.

going back behind the counter, you carefully wrapped the roses in brown paper, folding the edges neatly before tying a piece of rustic yarn around the stems. your fingers moved with care, securing the bundle before slipping it into a simple paper bag. as you handed it to the man in front of you, he extended his card, his fingers brushing yours briefly before you swiped it through the teller.

flashing a bright smile, you returned the card. "thank you, sir. come again!"

he looked at you for a moment before his lips curled into a subtle smile. "i will," he said before turning toward the door. the small bell above the entrance chimed as he stepped out into the daylight.

and true to his words, he did come back for the next few weeks every day. sometimes, he bought a full bouquet—other times, just a single stem of a white rose. he never stayed too long, just enough for small exchanges, brief moments where his presence made itself into your routine. over time, the space between your conversations shortened, and soon, park wonbin wasn't just a regular customer. he became something else entirely.

even after your shifts, you found yourselves spending time together. grabbing quick meals at nearby food stalls, wandering the empty fields at night, sharing laughter in places you had never thought to exist in before. wonbin was an indie photographer, as he told you one evening while leaning lazily against the shop's entrance. the first time he stepped into your store, he had only been looking for props—a handful of roses for a shoot he had planned.

he had shown you the final product days later, flipping his camera screen toward you. a woman in a long, wet red dress, her drenched hair clinging to her skin, lying across a stark white platform. her back arched dramatically, head and foot dangling off the edges, while the red rose wonbin had purchased rested between her fingers. the rest of the roses were scattered across the white floor, stark against the sterile background.

it fascinated you. his work had a distinct contrast—a clash between purity and chaos. his photographs weren't just beautiful; they carried raw intensity, an imperfect kind of allure that you found impossible to look away from.

one evening, as you sat together outside the flower shop, the cool night air wrapping around your skin, wonbin turned to you with an almost thoughtful expression.

"you know, you have a really pretty name," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced at him, brows slightly knitted. "i think it's awkward."

wonbin shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "no, it's not." he paused for a second, then murmured it softly, as if testing the weight of it on his tongue. "sori."

the way he said it made your stomach flip, warmth creeping up your neck.

"heo sori," he repeated, his gaze lingering on you. "it suits you. so delicate."

you ducked your head, unable to fight the foolish grin spreading across your face. your feet swung gently off the edge of the bench, the fabric of your long skirt swaying with the movement.

"really?" you murmured, voice quieter than before. "thank you. i never really thought of that."

"it suits you because you have a beautiful sori too," he added, eyes still fixed on you. "your parents must have really loved each other."

you let out a lighthearted chuckle at his remark, shaking your head. "they really did."

"you’re lucky," wonbin said, leaning back against the shop wall, his gaze drifting toward the night sky. "and honestly, it shows. you look like… a flower that's been nurtured with love."

it wasn't arrogance that made you accept his words so easily. you had always known—deep down, you had been raised in warmth, surrounded by love that shaped you into the person you were. and the people around you saw it too.

at some point, the line between you and wonbin blurred. what started as friendly interactions turned into something far deeper. his compliments became softer, his gestures more intentional. he would brush stray strands of hair from your face, rest his head against your shoulder, squeeze your hand absentmindedly when he spoke. and you let yourself sink into it before the two of you finally stopped pretending. you became his, and he became yours.

wonbin was the first man to ever make your heart race like this. the first man you had ever liked so badly that it almost hurt.

you ignored the glaring differences between the two of you—the things that, in hindsight, had already set you up for ruin. you wanted a quiet, gentle, predictable life. wonbin lived for the moment, unbound, chasing inspiration wherever it led him. you were soft, and he was rough around the edges.

but you thought love was enough. you willed yourself to hold onto him despite the contrast, convincing yourself that love could smooth over the jagged parts. you traced your fingers over the roughness of his hands, knowing they were made for something different from your own. he did the same, taking your delicate hands in his, despite how fragile they felt in his grip.

neither of you fit together like a puzzle piece. your differences didn't blend in beautifully—rather, you clashed, burned, collided. because the truth was, you and wonbin weren’t like a flower and a sunlight, but rather a fire and gasoline.

it all started two weeks after you and wonbin became official. at first, everything was perfect. his attention, his warmth, the way he always found a way to make you feel like the center of his world. but it didn't take long before the cracks started showing. he was still sweet, still the man you fell for, but his priorities were clear. and sometimes, you weren't one of them.

wonbin had a habit of leaving you waiting. always caught up in something, always running late, always with an excuse that somehow made sense but still hurt. you kept telling yourself it was normal. he had a career. he had a passion. you weren't supposed to be the reason he stopped doing what he loved. but at some point, it stopped feeling like an unfortunate side effect and started feeling like neglect.

like tonight. he promised to pick you up at seven for dinner. you stood by the old shed where he told you to wait, the glow of the streetlight casting long shadows around you. the air smelled like damp pavement, the distant scent of grilled meat from a street vendor nearby. you shifted your weight from one foot to another, hands gripping the strap of your bag, your phone growing heavier in your hand with every passing minute.

at first, you thought maybe he was just running late. he usually was. but when you finally glanced at your screen, it was nearly eight. almost an hour.

you bit your lip and tried calling him. the ringing stretched out painfully long before the other end picked up.

"sori? why are you calling?" wonbin's voice was distant and distracted, like he hadn't even thought about you until this very moment.

your fingers clenched around your phone. "wonbin, i've been waiting here for almost an hour already."

there was a pause. you could hear faint voices in the background, the clicking of a camera shutter, someone calling his name. he sighed heavily, and you could picture him rubbing his temple, eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

"shit… i lost track of time. i'm still in the middle of a shoot, baby. i'm sorry."

you sighed disappointedly. you closed your eyes, pressing your free hand to your temple. "what now?"

"just...just go back home, or grab dinner with your friend, uh… irina?"

you swallowed hard, your patience thinning by every second. "it's karina, wonbin."

"right, karina," he said quickly. "i'll make it up to you next time, okay?" another voice called for him in the background, and his words became rushed. "i gotta go, sori. i'll see you."

and then he hung up. no goodbye. no real apology. you stared at your screen, the call ending like a slap to the face.

this wasn't the first time, but something about tonight made it feel worse. before, he'd at least show up late, wind whipping through his hair as he pulled up on his motorcycle with a sheepish smile. or he'd call first to let you know he couldn't make it. but this time, you waited for nothing. and worse? he didn't even seem to remember.

the lump in your throat grew, but you swallowed it down. crying here wouldn't change anything. so you did what you always did—you found a way to justify it. he's busy. he's not doing this on purpose. it's not like you're his only priority.

but still, something about it made your chest ache in a way that was hard to ignore. instead of calling karina, because you knew exactly what she'd say, how she'd scold you for putting up with this. you went home.

after two hours of pacing around your apartment, forcing yourself to watch a show that you never really paid attention to, your phone rang. it's wonbin.

he said he was back at his apartment. that's all. no extra words, no real concern. no asking if how have you been after he just ditched you.

you messaged him you'd stop by since you were "on your way home from dinner with karina anyway." a complete lie.

and when you arrived, he greeted you with a tired smile, his hair slightly disheveled, hoodie hanging loosely around his torso. he pulled you in for a hug, but you stood stiff, arms locked at your sides. he leaned back slightly, his brows furrowing.

"something wrong, hm?" he squeezed your arms, his voice was gentle, his eyes so pretty it almost made you forget why you were angry.

you inhaled sharply. "something wrong? wonbin, do you—" you stopped, pressing your lips together before shaking your head. "do you even know how long i waited? and how you just handled the situation?"

his hands fell from your arms as he sighed, rubbing his face. "sori, lost track of time. i was in the middle of a shoot."

"you always lose track of time," you shot back, your throat tightening. "every time we make plans."

wonbin exhaled, arms spreading slightly in frustration. "it's just for today. i still pick you up most of the time, don't i?"

you let out a bitter laugh. "right. because your photos are more important than me."

his jaw tensed. "it's not like that. i love what i do, sori. i wish you could understand that—"

"but what about me?" your voice cracked slightly, your hands clenching at your sides. "i understand you. but do you even try to understand me? do you even love me the way you love your work? do you even respect me?"

the words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. wonbin's expression flickered into something between guilt and frustration.

"i do respect your time and effort," he said, but there was no sincerity behind it. he just wanted the argument to end.

"then show me." you spoke.

his silence said enough. wonbin ran a hand through his hair, huffing before turning away. "god you're making a big fuss over everything," he muttered, disappearing into his bedroom without another word.

and that was it. no apology again. no attempt to fix things. just him brushing you off like this wasn't worth discussing.

your chest felt hollow as you stood there, staring at his closed door. you didn't waste another second, so you grabbed your things and left, your footsteps echoing in dim stairs. the air outside was colder than before, the city streets eerily empty as you walked home, ten long minutes with nothing but your own thoughts.

you had expected warmth, an apology, maybe even him making you ramen in his small kitchen to make it up to you. instead, you got this.

the next morning came with the usual silence that always followed your fights with wonbin. no good morning texts. no missed calls. no unread messages waiting for you when you woke up. just a blank, empty screen that only made the weight in your chest heavier.

you lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, willing yourself not to check your phone. it wasn't like you hadn't done this before—waiting for him to come around, waiting for him to care enough to fix things. but this time, you felt exhausted.

by evening, the familiar beep of your apartment door unlocking echoed through the quiet space. you barely flinched. you knew who it was even before you heard the soft thud of sneakers against your wooden floors. aside from karina, who was working at the bar tonight, wonbin was the only person who had your passcode.

a deep sigh filled the room, barely audible over the noise of the tv in the background. "baby..." wonbin's voice was careful as he made his way toward the couch. you remained curled up, your back to him, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through posts you weren't really reading. "still mad at me?" he spoke again.

you could feel his presence hovering behind you, the warmth of his body just within reach. but you didn't budge. didn't acknowledge him. your fingers lazily swiped up on your screen.

wonbin shifted, then leaned down,gently pulling the phone from your hands. the sudden emptiness made your fingers curl slightly, like they were still expecting to hold something. you exhaled through your nose, rolling onto your back just enough to throw him an unimpressed glance.

"hey," he murmured, sitting down beside you. his eyes searched yours, head tilting slightly as if trying to read your mood. "come on. talk to me."

a bitter chuckle left your lips as you sat up, rubbing your temples. "talk to you?" your voice was quiet but laced with irritation. "you shut me out last night, wonbin. and now i'm the one who's supposed to talk to you?"

your words landed harder than expected, because for once, wonbin actually looked taken aback. his shoulders tensed, brows knitting together. "what's with the sudden tone?" he scoffed, his voice still calm but sharp. "what happened to you?"

of course. it always had to be about you, didn't it? as if you were the one overreacting. as if you were the one making things difficult. you sighed, shaking your head as you stood up, walking past him toward your bed. the exhaustion was clinging into your bones, weighing you down more than it ever had before.

"i can't deal with this right now," you muttered. climbing onto the bed, pulling a pillow close, letting it absorb the frustration you weren't willing to show directly on him.

a moment of silence stilled between you two. then, the bed dipped as wonbin sat on the edge, his hand finding your hip. his touch was light, and hesitant, as if he was testing the waters before pushing any further.

"come on," he coaxed. "let's go out."

there it was again. that voice. that infuriatingly gentle, disarming tone he always used whenever he wanted to smooth things over without actually fixing anything. it was a routine by now—he'd show up, speak in that voice, and you'd melt, as if all the nights spent waiting, all the times he brushed you aside, meant nothing. because he knew, didn't he? he knew exactly what he was doing. knew that all it took was a couple of well-placed words, a lingering touch, and you'd fold. just like you always did.

you clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to give in so easily this time. but it didn't take long. three pleases. that was all it took. and then you were rolling onto your back, exhaling through your nose as you looked up at him, lips pressed into a thin line. his eyes were locked onto yours, hopeful.

"alright," you murmured as you sat up, hands clasped together in your lap, fingers fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

━━━

that evening with wonbin went exactly like you expected. both of you walked out of your apartment, the cool evening air gently brushing against your skin as you made your way down the quiet block. the streetlights flickering by the sidewalk. you stopped by a small convenience store on the corner as you stepped inside to grab some ice cream. vanilla for you, chocolate for him, and after paying, you stepped back out into the night. the air was peaceful, leaving a lightness between the two of you. the weight of the problems you both had yet to talk about seemed to vanish, buried under the moment.

"hey, you know, i think black hair would suit you more," you said, breaking the silence as you licked the smooth vanilla ice cream, glancing at him.

wonbin turned his head toward you, "really? some of my models and co-photographers tell me that blonde suits me more," he replied casually, the chocolate ice cream in his hand now slightly melting as he bites the cone. he didn't seem offended or taken aback, just genuinely curious.

you pursed your lips, tapping the side of your ice cream cone thoughtfully. "your models?" you asked, trying to sound casual but wondering if you had just thrown something odd into the conversation. "well, it's just my opinion," you added, shrugging lightly, as if it didn't matter much at all.

wonbin nodded, not pressing the issue. his gaze returned to the quiet street ahead of you both. and after a minute of walking, he spoke again, the soft sound of his voice breaking through the quiet.

"i'll walk you home now. i have to be home too in a minute," he said, giving you a small smile as he slowed his pace to match yours.

you nodded in response. the walk back was comfortable, neither of you rushing, just enjoying each other's company as the streets grew quieter. when you reached your apartment, you shared one last hug and kiss before parting ways. for a moment, everything felt right again, as if the tension from the yesterday had been resolved completely without actually fixing it.

for the next weeks, there were no arguments, no silences stretching too long. everything seemed to fall back into place, and you thought, maybe, nothing would go wrong. maybe things would stay like this, just the two of you, content and untroubled.

but that all changed in one specific day. you were sitting at your vanity, freshly washed hair still damp and tangled from the shower. the soft, wet strands clung to your skin as you picked up the blow dryer, the whirring sound filling the room as you began drying your hair carefully.

then, the phone rang. your hands freezing mid-motion as you saw his name on the screen—wonbin.

you smiled a little, wiping your hands dry on a towel before answering the phone. "hello? bin? you're early today," you said, holding the phone to your ear while you flipped your hair to the side, trying to keep it from getting wet.

"good morning, sori," his voice came through, groggy from sleep but still audible, making you smile even more. "yeah, i managed to wake up early today. i know you'll be getting ready for work soon, so i wanted to call first."

"really? you never really wake up early just to call me before work," you teased lightly, pressing the phone against your shoulder as you picked up the blow dryer.

you could hear wonbin laugh softly on the other end, the sound of his chuckle making you grin. "happy birthday, lovely," he said, his voice somehow even more tender than before.

you thought for a moment, the words barely processing as you glanced across the room at the calendar. july 15th- your birthday. you hadn't even realized until now. it wasn't until you heard him say it that it truly clicked in your mind.

"thank you, bin," you said, a wide smile stretching across your face. you could almost feel his smile through the phone.

"i'll pick you up in an hour. get ready, we'll go out," wonbin added.

your smile faltered for just a second, only because you couldn't shake the feeling that something could go wrong. you had been let down before. sometimes he'd leave you waiting, sometimes he'd cancel at the last minute after you'd already gotten ready. but today, something about the way he said it made you believe he meant it.

you hesitated, but not for long. "mhm," you hummed in response, nodding as if he could see you. "but i need to be at the flower shop this morning." you added.

wonbin's voice softened, coaxing you gently. "take the day off, sori. it's your birthday. i'll pick you up, and we'll spend the day together."

you could never say no to him, and you knew it. that was always the hardest part. "okay," you said, letting out a small exhale. "i'll ask my co-worker if she can cover for me."

"good," he said, sounding pleased. "i'll be ready. you should be too."

your coworker, as always, was more than understanding, agreeing to cover your shift for the day and even wishing you a happy birthday. you smiled to yourself as you hung up the phone.

you took your time getting ready, applying just the right amount of makeup, and letting your long hair fall naturally, though you braided it to keep it from getting too messy. you slipped into your favorite baby blue sundress, the fabric light against your skin. after checking the time, you realized it was almost time to go, so you sat and waited.

your phone then buzzed, interrupting your thoughts. it was a message from wonbin: "i'm here, let's go?"

you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. for once, he was actually on time, and that was enough to make you smile. bare minimum. you grabbed your bag from the rack by the door and hurried down the stairs. as you stepped out, you saw him standing there by his motorcycle, his black helmet in hand, looking just as neat and put together as always.

"so pretty," he said, a soft smile on his face as he reached forward to give you a gentle peck on your cheek. he even wore that gray hoodie you once said looked good on him,

your smile widened, the simple gesture making your heart race in your chest. "flattery," you teased, "where are we going anyway?"

"wherever you want," he said, his voice full of warmth, as if he truly didn't mind, as if this day was for you.

you raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving "let's just go anywhere, then eat afterward."

━━━

you both went to the amusement park, just minutes ride away from the city. it was your idea, and he agreed without hesitation

the weather was perfect—clear skies, cool breeze brushing past your cheeks as you both wandered through the crowd. you held onto his arm as you moved from ride to ride, your fingers gripping him a little tighter after each attraction. on the ferris wheel, you leaned against him, the wind blowing through your hair as you snapped selfies and candids.

you both nearly lost your lungs at the drop tower, screaming into the open air, legs trembling when you stumbled off. and then he pulled you toward the booth where you both tried the shooting game—plastic rifles and rubber bullets. wonbin didn’t even try hard. he just aimed, casually pulling the trigger like it was second nature. bullseye. every time. you clapped and jumped enthusiastically while he exchanged his tickets for two plushies—a pink bear for you, and a cat for himself. he carried them under one arm all the way to the restaurant nearby.

you were still grinning when you both sat down for lunch. "i had so much fun, bin. thank you," you said, eyes on him as he took a bite of the food you ordered together.

he smiled, chewing and swallowing before speaking. "of course. it's your day today. i only wanted to make you happy." he said it like breathing. as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. like making you happy was something built into his system.

you stared at him for a few seconds—completely quiet, cheeks flushed, heart stupidly full. so smitten. so deeply in love, it made your chest hurt. you chuckled under your breath and looked away, stabbing your food with your chopsticks.

a few minutes passed in peace. you sipped your drink. he checked his camera roll, reviewing photos from earlier. everything felt so easy—until his phone rang.

you watched him pick it up without hesitation. "hello? bora?" he said.

your ears twitched at the name. you couldn’t hear the girl on the other end, but you watched his expression closely. he smiled, eyes lit up in a way you hadn't seen since you two sat on the ferris wheel.

"really? well, it's okay. i'm in a lunch today anyways, and i think i'll be late as well. i'll just catch up later," he said, still not looking at you. then he hung up and placed his phone down like nothing happened, grabbing his chopsticks again.

you blinked. your appetite slipped. you forced yourself to stay still, fingers tightening around your cup. why didn't he say he was on a date? why just 'lunch'? and what did he mean he'll be late 'as well'?

your thoughts spiraled. your stomach twisted. you wanted to speak, but part of you wanted to see if he'd notice the shift in your mood first. and of course, he didn't.

"bora?" you finally asked, trying to sound casual, spinning your chopsticks in your noodles.

"mhm, my model," he replied, smiling. "she'll be modelling for the photo i'm submitting for the annual exhibition in the city."

you nodded slowly, eyes on your food. then you sighed, a little sharper than intended. "she must be really pretty then... to be picked for a big event like that," you said, forcing a smile, but your voice had dropped—flat, dull, slightly sarcastic.

wonbin paused, finally picking up the change in your tone, but he just brushed it off. "yeah, she is," he replied without a hesitation.

and that was it. your appetite vanished completely. your heart, previously full, now felt tight and heavy. you set your chopsticks down on the edge of your plate. the room felt smaller now, more suffocating. he always did this. always made you feel like you were overthinking—when really, you were just feeling too much.

"you finished?" wonbin asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

you hummed a dull response and stood up, flashing him a weak smirk—more muscle memory than sincerity. you didn't wait. you turned around and walked out of the restaurant, letting the door swing behind you.

he rushed to settle the bill, stuffing cash into the little black folder before chasing after you. he caught up quickly, grabbing your arm gently but firm.

"hey, what's going on?" he asked, his voice not angry, just tired.

you turned to him, eyes weary. "nothing's wrong, wonbin," you mumbled.

he let go of your arm, exhaling hard. he ran a hand through his hair, his expression slowly changing.

"sori, don't throw a tantrum here right now, could you?" he muttered, voice edged with irritation. "come on. i'l send you home."

you stared at him, stunned by how quickly his mood shifted. you opened your mouth to argue—but what was the point? he was already walking toward the motorcycle.

the ride home was silent. cold wind hitting your face. you clutched the paper bag with the plushies tightly against your chest, blinking away the sting behind your eyes.

it was only 2 pm when he dropped you off in front of your apartment building. no words. just a quiet nod. then he rode off without even waiting for you to say goodbye.

you stood there for a moment, the bag dangled from your fingers, the weight of the stuffed toys suddenly feeling too heavy. you watched his motorcycle disappear down the road.

you looked down at your hand. and then—you felt bad.

the date wasn't supposed to end this way. you replayed it all in your head. the laughter, the pictures, the rides. you felt like you ruined it. if i hadn't acted like that… if i just kept smiling… maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so cold. maybe we’d still be walking around the park right now.

but no matter how hard you try, you always manage to press that invisible switch in him. the one that turns off everything sweet. the one that makes him say things like "don't throw a tantrum." the one that makes you feel too much—and him, not enough.

then, you heard the rustling of plastic a few steps away. behind the corner, karina appeared. her brows immediately furrowing, pace quickening as soon as she spotted you standing there alone with a paper bag in hand, looking like all the color had been drained from your day.

"sori? you okay?" she asked, voice gentle as her hands settled on your shoulders. "where are you going?"

"where did i went, you mean," you replied tiredly, slumping slightly into her touch. "and no, i don't feel okay."

karina didn't need more than that. she'd seen this version of you too many times—shoulders drooped, voice dimmed, hurt tucked just behind your eyes. she didn't ask for context. just the details. "come on. let's go. i know a place."

she nudged you gently as you both headed down the street. the grill eatery she led you to was a little cramped, but buzzing with life. normally packed with groups drinking at night, but this time of day with the sun still high made it quieter. a few tables filled with people casually eating lunch.

karina didn't even hesitate as she ordered a bottle of soju.

"the sun hasn't even set yet," you chuckled, watching her crack it open as the server lit the grill between you.

"any time of the day is perfect if you're miserable enough," she smiled, pouring into your glass.

you let out a breath. not quite a laugh, but close. karina started grilling pork slices, her focus split between you and the sizzling meat.

"so, tell me about it." she spoke

you sighed, your eyes on the raw meat slowly changing color in the heat. "wonbin..." you muttered.

"of course," karina said dryly, rolling her eyes. you let out a small laugh, but your lips trembled.

"it was going well," you began. "like... actually well. he picked me up, wore the hoodie i liked. laughed at my stupid jokes. we screamed together on the drop tower. i took photos of him smiling..."

you paused, lifting the shot glass she poured earlier and downing it in one go.

"and then... some woman called. bora."

karina's hand froze for half a second above the grill, tension rising in her jaw, but she said nothing—just listened.

"he told her he was 'at lunch.' that he might be late too. like it wasn't a date. like i wasn't right there in front of him. and he smiled when he said her name. it was so annoying."

you sniffled lightly, wiping your cheek before anything could fall. the grill popped in front of you.

"i asked if she was pretty. and he just said 'yeah, she is.' so casually. like it didn't even cross his mind how that might make me feel."

karina's expression twisted, irritation flickering through her gaze. she slammed the tongs a little harder on the table. "what a prick."

you cracked a bitter laugh, but your voice wavered halfway through. "then i got upset, and he said i was throwing a tantrum. like i was just some clingy girl being dramatic in public."

the words sat heavy in the air between you.

"and i felt bad," you added quietly. "i still feel bad. like i ruined it. like maybe i should've just smiled through it because what if i was overreacting?"

karina leaned in, her arms resting on the table, eyes locked on yours.

"sori," she spoke, "you didn't ruin anything. you reacted like a human being. he's the one who's emotionally numb."

you looked down at your lap, fingers fumbling with your napkin. "he always does this," you mumbled. "and i always let him. he loves his job... and i'm ruining it for him."

karina didn't reply right away. she just stared at you, that familiar mixture of frustration and helplessness brewing in her chest. she'd heard this before—too many times. and every time, she told you the same thing: that you weren't overreacting. that he was in the wrong. but no matter how many times she said it, you were already too deep in the comfort of the pain to believe it.

karina just hoped that someday you'd finally snap. before the hurt grew into something even worse.

"come on," she said after a beat, her voice softening again. "let's just enjoy this. i'll call some of my friends from the bar."

"the ones from last time?" you asked, a small smile beginning to tug at the corner of your lips.

"mhm, you knew them. do you want them to come?"

"of course. they're pretty chill."

karina reached over and wrapped a grilled piece of pork in lettuce, adding garlic and sauce before lifting it toward you. "happy birthday, pretty," she said with a grin.

you smiled back, opening your mouth to take the bite. the warm flavor hit your tongue, grounding you a little more. for a second, the heaviness eased off your chest.

the rest of karina's friends arrived shortly after, greeting you with warmth that effortlessly lifted the mood. the earlier tension with wonbin began to dissolve, buried under the laughter and clinking of glasses. by the time the clock hit 7 pm, you were already buzzed. almost wasted while karina and the others, seasoned bar employees, were still going strong.

"i'll send you home, sori," karina said as she stood up, walking over to your side and patting your back. her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, but she still held herself together.

you shook your head, your hand clumsily waving her off. "no–no... i'm fine."

karina let out a sigh and glanced at one of her friends—eunseok. "can i borrow your car?"

eunseok shook his head. he hadn't touched alcohol since arriving, sticking to soda while joining in on the fun. he was the only one there who was completely sober.

"you've still had drinks, karina. i can take her home," eunseok offered, rising from his seat as you swayed. karina instinctively reached out to steady you, her hands gripping your shoulders to keep you from slumping onto the table.

"okay, but please... keep her safe. i'll damn you if anything happens," she warned with a hiss.

eunseok only chuckled, unfazed. "don't worry."

he gently slipped your arms over his shoulders, supporting you while keeping a respectful distance as he nodded at karina. "i'll be back right away."

outside, he helped you into the backseat of his car, sending a quick message to karina before driving toward your apartment.

the car ride was quiet. you and eunseok weren't exactly close, but he wasn't a stranger either. before you knew wonbin, you had already known him as you frequently visited karina in her workplace that lead you to meeting everyone from there, exchanging few small nods and talks occasionally.

"i haven't properly greeted you yet," he said, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. "happy birthday, sori."

you weren't completely drunk, just floating in that fuzzy limbo, so you understood him clearly. "thank you," you murmured with a small smile. and that was the end of the conversation.

once parked, he helped you to the front door of your apartment building. "will you be okay here? or should i take you upstairs? just give me your permission."

your head lolled a little, but you managed to shake it. "no... i'll be okay."

he hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but didn't insist further. "alright. be careful, then."

you nodded as he handed you over to the wall for support. he lingered by the glass door, watching you ascend until you disappeared from view. only then did he turn around to head back to his car.

but just as he turned the corner, he bumped into wonbin.

they exchanged a long, narrow glance before eunseok moved on, slipping into his car without a word. wonbin stood still, his eyes following the departing vehicle before he walked toward your building.

you had collapsed onto your bed the moment you got home, still wearing your sandals, when the sound of the door beeping open made you sit up groggily. you rubbed your temple and looked toward the source—wonbin.

your state was disheveled, to say the least. the braid in your hair were undone, strands sticking to the sides of your face. the strap of your sundress dangled loosely off one shoulder, and your eyes, heavy-lidded and tired—barely lifted as he walked towards you.

"what are you doing here?" you mumbled, rubbing your temple as you slowly stood up, your head still spinning.

he stood still by the wall, arms crossed. "did you drink?" his eyes narrowed, tone sharp.

you scoffed, still calm but slightly defensive. "what's it to you?"

"i'm your boyfriend, sori. that makes it my business too." he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was tension there—growing.

realizing he had a point, you just shook your head with a faint sigh. "it was karina's treat. and it's my birthday too, remember?" your voice was tinged with disappointment.

"i'm aware," he said, scoffing under his breath. "but you could've just told me."

that stopped you in your tracks. your eyes met his, dulled by alcohol but suddenly clear enough to process hurt.

"told you?" you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping you. "wonbin... you never—" you caught yourself, words cutting mid-sentence.

you wanted to yell. to ask him why you always felt like a stranger to the parts of him you couldn't reach. why he knew everyone in your life, but you knew no one in his. why he demanded your life but gave you nothing back. why it always felt like you were in a one-sided story.

but the words never made it out. you bit your lip, gaze falling to the floor, chest aching from the weight of everything left unsaid. "i... i'm sorry."

"i never what?" he asked, his voice low, but the challenge in it made your heart race in tension.

you stepped closer, reaching for him. your hands gently touched his shoulders, trying to hold onto the pieces before they fell apart.

"i'm sorry, bin," you whispered, your voice barely holding together.

he looked at you—at your trembling lips, your pleading eyes before peeling your hands away from him.

"and you didn't even call me?" his voice cracked as frustration spilled over. "you asked that eunseok guy to drive you home?!"

"i didn't ask him—" you whined in defense.

"sure you didn't," he snapped, cutting you off. "what, was it because he's got a nice car? a stable job? huh? you didn't want to deal with my motorcycle and my mess of a life?"

each word hit harder than the last, and you felt something crumble inside. his accusations weren't just painful—they were unfair.

"what are you even saying, wonbin?" your voice broke as the first tear slid down your cheek. "it's not like that."

you reached out to hug him, to calm him, but he stood stiff and cold. but then—you smelled something that made you slowly shift on your foot backwards. a scent that didn't belong to him.

the crying stopped, your hands dropped from him slowly, and you stepped back fully, eyes narrowing as the reality clicked in. it wasn't his cologne. it was something sweet.

"wonbin..." you said quietly, trying to keep your voice from trembling. "whose perfume is that?"

he looked confused at first. then he lifted his shirt slightly and sniffed. his eyes fell shut.

"sori... you're drunk."

"park wonbin," you said firmly, louder now. "don't. don't brush it off again like you always do."

your fingers trembled as you pointed at him. "whose. perfume. is. that?"

the lavender perfume clung to him. strong, unfamiliar, and foreign. something you hate, something you wouldn't wear.

wonbin didn't answer right away. his eyes flicked to the side, jaw clenched tight like he was trying to calculate the least damaging version of the truth. but the silence between you screamed louder than anything.

"i asked you a question," you said, voice cracking, more stable than before but your trembling hands and unsteady knees gave you up.

he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "it's no one."

"don't lie to me."

"it's not like that," he replied, quieter now, but hesitant. "i ran into someone. she hugged me, that's all."

"someone?" the word felt like it knocked the air out of your chest. "who? and why would she hug you, wonbin?"

he didn't answer. his eyes glistened—almost teary, almost like he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"i see," you said faintly, stepping back, trying to put space between you and the ache in your chest. "so i'm the problem for getting a ride home when you're out smelling like someone else's lavender perfume?"

"it's not like that," he repeated, more agitated now. "you're twisting it."

"am i?" your voice sharpened. "then explain it to me, wonbin. for once. just once. because all i've done is give and give and give myself to you while you keep every part of your life locked away from me."

"you're being so dramatic," he muttered under his breath.

"of course!" you sarcastically laughed. "i always am, am i?"

that made him freeze. he didn't say anything, just looking away as he listened.

"you knew it was my birthday. you knew i felt off when that model called you—and you said nothing. you dropped me off in front of my building like we were nothing. no message. no call. just silence. and now you show up angry at me for getting a ride from a friend while you reek of someone else's perfume?" you were shaking again, eyes shimmering, but the tears didn’t fall. not yet. "we fight all the time, wonbin. we don't understand each other anymore..."

you sobbed. sniffling, brushing your nose with your knuckles before proceeding,

"so tell me... do you still even want to be with me?"

he looked stunned. not because the question was unexpected, but because, maybe, he didn't know the answer.

"you're making it so hard, sori," he whispered, turning his back on you. he rubbed his forehead, fingers slipping into his hair like he could pull the tension out.

"is it only me, then?" you asked, voice fragile as a glass breaking. you sat down on the edge of the bed, slumping as the pressure in your chest pressed down more. "do you still even have the patience to be with me?"

"i don't know." the words left his mouth coldly. blank and emotionless.

you let out a quiet, shaky breath. that was all you needed to hear. "then leave, wonbin," you firmly stated. "come back only if you do."

you stared down at the floor, refusing to look at him. not because you didn't want to see him go, but because if you did, you knew you'd break.

━━━

for two weeks, it felt like you and wonbin had broken up without a word. he hadn't called, messaged, or updated anything on social media. it was like he vanished, and every day you felt like you were crumbling. at work, your energy was so drained that even the plants you touched seemed to wither. your co-worker noticed first, offering gentle concern. karina, predictably, was furious when you told her what happened.

you were tired of waiting. tired of the silence. so one evening, after your shift, you decided to visit him hoping that time had cooled things down enough to talk again.

his building hadn’t changed. still looked like it was falling apart, no security pin at the entrance, the staircase was dim, the bulbs flickering like they were clinging to life. cemented steps, unpainted and rough. you remembered how scared you were the first time you came here. now it just felt sad.

at his door, you knocked. no answer. you tried again, calling out softly, "wonbin? it's me..."

still nothing.

you hesitated before pulling out the spare key he gave you. when the door creaked open, a wave of stale alcohol hit you. the living room was a mess—empty bottles scattered, clothes thrown across the floor. and no sign of him.

you cleaned up a little before deciding to check his studio, thinking maybe he was there, trying to focus on work. the walk was short, but your stomach churned with something strange.

you reached the small building, pushed through the glass door, and stepped into the hallway. his was the second room. you raised a hand to knock but your instinct stopped you. instead, you quietly twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

dim light spilled out, revealing the sofa and the white photography panels.

and there he was—wonbin. slumped on the couch, visibly drunk.

but what made your hands tremble wasn't him.

it was the woman.

clinging to him, straddled on his lap, long hair falling over one shoulder, red lipstick smudged, dressed like she just stepped out of a fashion shoot.

your entire body locked up. your brows furrowed sharply in disbelief, lips parting with a soundless gasp as tears instantly welled up in your eyes. your throat closed up and burned, your jaw trembling as if it couldn't decide whether to drop or grit shut. you blinked once, twice, hoping the sight would change, but it didn't. your knees buckled slightly, forcing you to brace yourself against the doorframe.

you stumbled back, shoulder hitting the metal frame with a soft thud. the noise made her look up.

she didn't recognize you. her expression shifted briefly before she offered a small, awkward smile. "oh- hi, sorry for the awkward sight." she casually said with a chuckle that threw you off, sliding off him like it was no big deal.

wonbin didn't move at first. he sat forward, leaning on his knees like he didn't even notice your presence.

you stood frozen, breathing shallowly. your face crumbled further—eyebrows now drawn together in pain, mouth trembling as you tried to hold back the sob threatening to slip. you didn't know where to look—at her, at him, or at the floor that seemed like it might open up and swallow you whole. you could feel every blood vessel in your face pulsing, heat crawling up your neck, but your skin was cold.

the woman glanced at him, then back at you. "uh... bin? you've got a guest. i think it's one of your models?"

and that's when he finally turned around. when his eyes landed on you, on your stunned, broken expression, it's like he instantly woke up from his dazed state.

"sori..." he rushed over the sofa the moment he saw you, reaching out but you were already turning away, storming out of the studio on instinct. you didn't think. you just ran down the steps, past the flickering hallway lights, into the street. you didn't look back. you didn't care if he followed.

your long skirt caught your ankle, almost sending you tumbling, but then, his hand caught your waist.

you jolted, instantly flinching and shoving him away with force.

"wonbin..." you muttered, barely getting his name out as your chest rose and fell erratically, your whole body shaking. the ache in your chest was unbearable, like your ribs were folding inward.

"sori, what are you doing here?" he asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration, as if you were the one who barged into something wrong.

that was it. that line snapped something inside you. your blank expression cracked, lips curling into a trembling scoff before a bitter, sarcastic laugh broke free from your throat—choked and ugly. "to see you, wonbin. to talk to you. to fix things with you. something you couldn’t even bother to do!" your voice cracked, convulsing with fury and grief. "who is she...?"

his face shifted, expression softening like it was supposed to matter now. he reached for your hand, but you quickly stepped back, avoiding him like he burned.

"who—" your voice raised slightly. "who is she?"

"you got it wrong, bab—"

"don't." you shook your head, voice raw. "don't fucking call me that."

his mouth fell slightly open, tears starting to well up in his eyes now. but when yours met his, everything crumbled. it was game over.

you stumbled back and leaned against the nearest post, sliding to the ground, your head bowing down as sobs shook through you. you curled in on yourself, arms over your knees, gasping between cries.

"wonbin... how could you—" your voice cracked again, throat closing up.

he stood in front of you, motionless, his expression hurting.

"how could you just disappear..." your voice hitched, "and cheat on me behind my back..."

and just saying it—just hearing yourself say it out loud made it feel real. too real that you broke again, completely this time, sobbing harder as the weight of everything collapsed on your chest like bricks.

you don't know how long you sat there crying, but your lungs burned, and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. wonbin stood just a few feet away, but he still didn't move. didn't kneel. didn't say anything like the coward he was. just stood there. watching, like he didn't know what to do with you. like he never knew.

that silence—it made something twist violently inside you. a final crack in the dam holding everything in.

"what happened to us?" you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and slowly looked up at him, eyes swollen, voice shaking. "you never really cared about me, did you?"

he blinked, startled. "what are you talking about? of course i did—"

"no, wonbin," you cut him off, voice firm now, all the shaking replaced by a quiet rage. "you loved me, maybe. in the way you could. but i was never part of your plans. i was never part of your future. i don't think i ever even made it to your present."

he looked like he wanted to interrupt, but you didn't let him.

"you made me feel like i was always chasing you. like i was some afterthought you occasionally remembered. i waited, and waited—for texts, for calls, for some sign that i mattered. you knew how much i was hurting, and you ignored it every time."

you stood now, trying to steady your breath, even as your voice shook again. "i came last, in everything. behind your art, your friends, your work, your silence. i loved you so much i lost pieces of myself trying to believe i mattered to you. trying to believe i can smooth off your jagged edges."

wonbin looked down at the ground. his fists clenched.

"i can't do it anymore," you said, softly. "i can't keep forcing myself into your carefree life. i can't keep begging for a love that doesn't see me. i want to break up."

he looked up sharply. "no. no, wait, sori—"

"i mean it." you didn't let your voice falter. "we're not good for each other, and you know that. we're just too infatuated of the good times to admit it, but during times like these, it's on plain sight."

he stepped back like you slapped him, jaw tightening. "so that's it?"

you stared at him, blinking back the last of your tears. "yeah. that's it."

"fine," he snapped, voice low and sharp like glass. "let's end this."

he didn't wait for your response, but you didn't care because there's no more to talk about.

he turned around and walked back toward the building without another word. no glance. no pause. just his back getting smaller and smaller until the door swallowed him whole.

you stood alone in the middle of the street, your tears drying cold on your skin. the silence wrapped around you again, not from neglect this time—but from the absence of something that was never really yours to begin with, and you don't know what your life will be now that wonbin had already left traces of him in you.

[thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her]

Naked In New Orleans

Chapter 4 - The Mistake(s).

Word Count: 2893.

CW: Typical wlw angst, Emily being the GOAT (+ world's best bestie) part 1, a couple mentions pregnancy, talks of termination, platonic Jemily in the last two parts :)

Summary: Vague moments leading up to the 'non-break-up' break up, and why JJ's been off recently.

A/N: There's not really a lot of Y/N content in this one, since it's more of a filler chapter, but this is just as a bit of a taster for the angst that's gonna be in a few of the rest of them (sorry in advance for that 💖).

Also, would recommend watching this episode (3x4) if you haven't already, since (again) this is mostly just a filler chapter, and the case details involved in this chapter (as well as the other ones following this are based around) don't really get proper closure on it, as this isn't about the cases, it's about tragic lesbians.

~~~

"Hi, sorry, but I don't think I can come see you this weekend. I know you booked time off, but I'm not feeling too good, and I don't wanna give you a bug or anything xxx" Was the text JJ sent before going to bed one night. The latest in an unfortunately long-ish line of excuses she's made recently to get out of spending time with her extremely understanding girlfriend.

Girlfriend? Hook-up didn't feel like the right label, nor did friends-with-benefits, since they'd never really been friends prior to their 'arrangement'. But girlfriend also felt like too much pressure (and a little too permanent), in JJ's opinion.

"No worries, I totally get it. Sending kisses from southern LA, hope you feel better soon xxx" Is what Y/N sent back, mere minutes after JJ fell asleep, the exhaustion from the long work day getting the best of her. "Open the door xxx" Was also sent, about an hour after JJ woke up.

Doing so (and much to her surprise), the blonde found a bouquet of flowers rested on the doormat outside of her apartment, pink tulips and baby's breath; her favourites. With the note 'Wish I was there to cuddle with you, but hopefully these are enough -Y/N❤️'.

The gesture made her want to smile and sob at the same time. How can someone be so sure of themselves, and have so much unfiltered love to give to others? A spark of jealousy flared up in her gut, before she pushed it back down, carrying the flowers into the kitchen, and sending another quick text; "Thanks for the flowers; they're beautiful. Feeling better already, speak soon xxx".

At least, that's how it started.

On top of the excuses, JJ had thrown countless (seemingly ridiculous) arguments at Y/N over the next couple of weeks; varying from lightly dramatized versions of some of her very real fears and insecurities, to subtle hints of internalised homophobia and hatred for herself seeping through the blonde's pores, infecting the otherwise fairly healthy relationship the pair had going on.

JJ didn't have much time to dwell on the past, though; what's she did after that was done, and there was nothing she could do to change her actions, now, no matter how much she regretted them. A new case had just come in, and she needed to get the team together asap.

"The Halbert family. They were murdered in their home, last night, in the Denver suburb of Cherry Creek." JJ announced in the briefing room, to the team, informing them on the case they were about to go on. "It's the third home invasion like this over the past month. They kill everyone; parents, kids, pets if they have them. Always families, nice neighbourhoods."

"They take anything?" Derek asked, as he and the others flipped through the case files.

"Nothing they can't fit in their pockets; cash, jewellery, stuff like that." The blonde replied.

"There are hundreds of ways to get cash and jewels without killing entire families." Hotch stated, looking up at the newer crime scene photos being shown on the monitor.

"National statistics show an uptick in home invasions over the last few years; eighteen percent in Colorado." Spencer rambled, applying his skill of random/useful facts he'd accumulated (at random or on purpose) over time, to the case.

"Yeah, and you know it's bad if they're inviting us back." Hotch replied. "Things went bad after the JonBenet Ramsey case, when a couple of agents publicly criticised local detectives."

"They didn't need us to make them look back." Derek added. "That may be true, but the state-wide media ran with it, and it took on a life of its own." Hotch said, in his usual level-headed and professional tone.

"And that was in Boulder?" JJ questioned, earning a nod from each of the guys on the team. "I talked to a Lieutenant Nellis; trust me, they want our help."

"They need it." Emily corrected, reading over the case notes. "The first two invasions were 20 days apart, this last one was just nine days later; textbook exaltation."

"So they're killing in faster cycles; acquiring a taste, and getting better at it each time." Morgan stated, looking up at the others.

---

After arriving in Denver, the team split up. Hotch and Emily to the latest crime scene with the Lieutenant walking them through it, and Reid outside questioning one of the neighbours; leaving Morgan and JJ to set up at the field office.

Upon their return, the others informed JJ and Derek of the details. "It's possible they're minimising the risk of being discovered too early, or having the police be tipping off about their whereabouts, by jamming cell phones inside the house, so no one can call out." Spencer started, sharing his theory with the group.

"High tech - That narrows the profiler, right?" Lieutenant Nellis asked, assuming the obvious summary.

"Not really, you can buy a handheld jammer online for, what, a 100 bucks?" JJ replied.

"And as far as the victimology is concerned, it's all over the place; different careers, political affiliations, school systems. At this point it appears that the UnSubs are targeting their victims at random." Emily added, the team having deducted on the jet that this must've been at least a two person job.

"So we're back to square one, until we can find any sort of link between them?" Derek questioned, being met with a couple of nods, and looks of vague disappointment.

The following morning, after hammering out the last few details, the team presented the profile to the local PD's officers;

"We're looking for two men," Hotch started. "Mostly likely white, considering the neighbourhoods that they hit. Mid to late 20s, intelligent and organized."

"These are career criminals," Morgan continued. "One or both has done hard time, but neither presents as a convict. They would appear clean-shaven, well-dressed-"

"Neighbourly." Emily chimed in, as he struggled slightly with finding the accurate word for it. "This helps them talk their way into the homes. They may also be using a ruse."

"What kind of ruse?" The lieutenant asked.

"Given that the invasions have taken place in the evening, it could be anything; door-to-door sales, person in distress, car troubles." Hotch answered truthfully.

"Derrick Todd Lee used a tape of a baby crying to get woman to open their doors in Baton Rouge. Never underestimate their creativity." Reid said, to further get the point across, the mention of which made her feel nauseous, before her phone rang, and she excused herself to go and answer it.

"These men share a very tight bond, and a mutual compulsion to kill, but their signatures reveal two very distinct personalities. One brutalises the parents, that's the dominant one; sadistic, remorseless, extremely volatile. The other prefers the needle, his injections are consistent with that of an Angel of Death; he's more withdrawn, sensitive, and has a warped sense of mercy." Emily added and explained, as Derek went around handing out lists of places where the latter might gain access to the drug used, and JJ came rushed back in.

"There's been another one; they're sending an ambulance." The blonde stated, getting straight to the point.

"Ambulance? There's a survivor?" Hotch questioned. JJ nodded.

---

After arriving at the hospital and being informed of the surviving victim (Carrie)'s condition, as well as asking her a few questions and dropping off a bag of her clothes that were cleared by the crime scene techs to be taken to her, JJ and Emily walked back down the halls of the hospital, until JJ took herself off to the side, and sat down on one of the seats in the quiet waiting room, by the exit.

"Hey, you okay? You've been a bit off the last couple days." Emily questioned, after a moment, moving to sit down next to her.

"I've fucked up, Em." The blonde said, burying her face in her hands, trying to push down the sick feeling in her gut; whether from the case or her pregnancy, the answer was unclear.

"Why, what's happened? Is it about Y/N?" She asked, gently rubbing the other girl's back.

"No- Well, yeah, kind of; more about Will." JJ responded, hanging her head, and shutting her eyes.

"Oh? I thought we weren't a fan." The dark haired girl stated, a slightly puzzled look crossing her features, trying to gauge what was going on.

"Yeah, well, that's where I fucked up." The liaison said, sitting up a bit straighter, her face looking pale. "It's Y/N's birthday, and instead of spending time with her, like I really wish I was, I'm pregnant with her brother's baby, since I was stupid enough to let my insecurities come between us, and I ended up sleeping with him when I went down to New Orleans to apologise to her, because she wasn't at home, and I thought he'd know where she was."

"Oh. Okay, are we happy-ish about this, or should I see if I can like transfer you some credit, or something? You know, like a "my best friend had an abortion, so can I get this one free?" thing?" Emily offered, trying to cheer her friend up.

That earned a laugh from the blonde, before she huffed out slightly. "I have no idea. I mean, I want a kid, sure; I'm in a fairly stable place in my life, work-wise, to have one, but- I don't know."

"Can I ask how far along you are?" The woman questioned, tilting her head slightly.

"6 weeks, so about halfway through the "wanting to puke all the time" stage, but apparently that gets worse." The liaison exclaimed, leaning back in the chair.

"Have you done a test, or been to an OB, yet, or is this just guess work?" Emily asked, deciding to keep things logical for the moment.

"I did a test a few mornings ago, day before we got this case; I don't really wanna go to a doctor 'til I know what I want to do." JJ replied.

"I can come with you, if you want; when we get back. I can only speak from personal experience, but it's better to know for sure, before you stress yourself out with the 'what ifs', and all the permanent decision making." The raven haired girl explained.

"Isn't every decision a permanent decision?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowing a little.

"Have you seriously never made a dumb mistake? Like ever, when you were a teenager, or something?" Emily stated, more shocked than judgemental (or anything else).

"I smoked some weed once in college, but that was during off-season, and I didn't do it on campus, or in a sorority house, so not really, no." She responded, making the other woman's jaw drop open slightly.

"We're getting besides the point here. Do you want me to help you out with any of this, or shall I just kind of butt-out, and let you deal with this your own way?" The agent questioned.

"I'd rather not do this by myself. At least then that way I won't be going in there with next-to zero idea about everything." JJ said, with a small smile.

"Okay then; we can book you an appointment when we get back, and we'll go from there." Emily explained softly, her tone settling the nerves that'd previously sparked up in the blonde's stomach. Though, maybe it wasn't nerves, JJ thought, as she quickly got up, and bolted to the bathrooms opposite the pair.

---

Once the team had solved the case and gotten home two days later, (with Emily's help) JJ's OB appointment that Friday came around a lot faster than she'd anticipated. Though, her nerves most likely would've gotten the better of her and made her miss it, if it weren't for her best friend personally escorting her to the clinic, sticking by her side, and talking her through it.

"It's just gonna be a simple ultrasound, a couple of tests, and looking through some pamphlets; easy as pie, compared to hunting serial killers, even if it feels like the biggest thing in the world, right now." Emily explained, as the two of them sat in the waiting room similar to the one in the hospital back in Denver.

"Can I ask about something? Which you are in no way obliged to answer, I'm just curious and not sure who else to ask without getting some sort of 'preaching to the choir' answer." JJ asked, turning to the agent next to her, who nodded softly. "After you, you know, got a termination, did you ever regret doing it? I mean, I know you were 15, and I'm not, but I'm just wondering."

"I don't think regret is the right word." The dark haired girl started, getting straight to the point. "Guilty, maybe, but there was definitely a lot more of it back then, compared to now. At some point, a while ago, I think I just got it straight in my mind that it was the right thing to do, considering the circumstances, and my life would probably be a mess now if I hadn't made that choice; no matter how much I probably would've loved them."

"Right." The blonde uttered in response. "But, if it was you making the decision now, you'd choose different?"

"I can't say for certain, but most likely. Which, in no way should affect whatever you decide to do; that's one thing I can't help with." Emily replied with a small, slightly sad, smile.

Before JJ could ask anything else, the door to OB's office opened, and her name was called. "Ms Jareau?"

A little while after having blood taken and a couple other tests done, JJ shuffled onto the examination table, Emily taking a seat beside her as emotional support, and pulled her shirt up slightly.

"Okay, so for the rest of this appointment, we're just seeing how far along you are, via the ultrasound, and discussing your options, if that's something you're up for; nothing more, nothing less." The OB informed, sitting down on the rolling stall next to the bed, and setting up the monitor in front of her.

JJ, feeling too nervous with anticipation to say anything, opts to just nodding, and reaching out for Emily's hand, to make herself feel just a little bit less alone, and quiet her brain, which the other woman gladly took, and squeezed gently.

The feeling of the cold gel being squirted onto her skin brought her attention to the screen that was partially turned away from her, waves in anxiousness turning over in her chest, as the ultrasound wand was lightly pressed to her stomach, and rolled around over the slightly lower part of it.

A couple agonising minutes followed, JJ's pre-mature grief and feeling of hopelessness starting to affect her emotions as well as her patience; maybe she was wrong, or the test was. 'False positives happen all the time, right?' She thought to herself, before being nudged out of them by Emily, who wordlessly nodded back toward the screen after regaining the blonde's attention.

A small, circle-shaped white blob, sat inside a slightly bigger, black bean-shaped blob; her baby. Or what would be her baby, over time.

"Hi-" JJ whispered softly, her voice filling with tender emotion, as she reached her free hand out toward the screen, brushing a finger over the edge of the fuzzy picture.

"There you've got the foetus, with the umbilical cord by it's little leg there, and then you've got-" The doctor's words faded out in JJ's head, along with her prior anxiety, as she just looked at the image shown on the monitor.

If she wasn't already fairly set on her decision on keeping the baby already, JJ was partially sure that this could've swayed her into it if she was still on the fence. Not that she wasn't a head-strong woman, who would've chosen to get an abortion, if that was what she really wanted to do, but something about the pea-sized circle made the next year of her future (maybe even beyond that) seem so much clearer.

The following 10 minutes had her leaving the clinic with a massive weight lifted off her soldiers, along with about 5 different pamphlets on "What to expect when you're expecting", and two copies of the ultrasound; one for her, and one for either you or Will, depending on what happened next.

"So what now?" Emily questioned as the two of them settled down in JJ's kitchen, after driving them both to hers.

"I'm gonna call Will tomorrow, talk to him about everything; see what happens." The blonde shrugged.

"What about Y/N? And don't try to bullshit me, Jareau. It's clear to me you've got big feelings for her; you can't shove that kinda stuff down, trust me." The dark haired girl added. 'Did she know?'

"I don't know. I need to get this all straightened out first, before I go diving into that mess, again." JJ replied, picking at the skin around the nails on both her hands.

"That's a very wise decision." Emily acknowledged, setting two glasses of water on the counter, before picking hers up. "To a bigger, brighter future, and another BAU baby."

"To a bigger, brighter future." The liaison chuckled, as she clinked her glass with Emily's.

~~~

Taglist: @chestnutninny @severepeanutartisanhands

~~~

4th one done 😁😁😁 So sorry that this took forever, but I'm glad it's out now. Chapter 5 (hopefully) should be out a lot quicker - just need to do the case-related stuff in the middle.

In addition, just as a note (cause this one isn't "marked" like the other ones/aside from 1+2), the gap between the first part of this chapter, and the end, is supposed to take place over like two months, but I wasn't sure how to write it properly, so it's just gonna stay like that.

Also, we're just gonna ignore that Gideon disappeared (like he did in the show), and doesn't show up in this series ever again 😬 However, Rossi will be added in next chapter, without a single explanation on how he got there, but I will see you in the next one; adios for now.

-Harlow

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 18.

Summary: Love as seen in the stars, in the flowers that bloom, in your best friend's eyes, and in the taste of him on Oliver's tongue as you catch him in the bathtub. Summer continues at Saltburn.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; vouyerism, dom!reader, handjob, bathwater as lube, cumming almost untouched, pervert/enabler dynamics. I cannot stress to you enough that both the reader and Oliver are COMPLETE AND UTTER FREAKS ABOUT FELIX in the bathtub scene.

A/N: 6670 words. this chapter is very special to me for a lot of reasons, but mainly because there have been several scenes that i've been writing for a while now that have all found their forever home in this chapter. if you have any feedback or thoughts about this chapter or the story so far, i'd always love to hear them! also something something bath water something ;o)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Things were easier to navigate now that you understood Oliver. Or at least you thought you understood. Less fucking around with Farleigh and Venetia in Oliver's peripheries; when you put yourself on display, it was as an extension of Felix. If Felix had noticed the change, he hadn't commented on it. Considering how much effort you put in making him feel good and moan like a whore for Oliver's benefit, he probably appreciated it.

Things with Oliver himself were getting better by the day too, it seemed. More and more he was reaching out for you again. Sitting too close, sharing your space, seeking you out when his time wasn't filled with Felix. There's less tension too, on the nights you share in the lilac study. Oliver's been through the book you'd given him on the Estate, and has moved on to picking out books he'd found on your bookshelf, it seemed. You, having quickly identified the flower he'd mentioned as the honeysuckle, native to Australia, had also moved on to books from your Summer reading list for your upcoming year at Oxford. As the first week of Summer is coming to an end, it seems as though Oliver had finally settled in at Saltburn.

"Do you miss your room?" Oliver asks one evening. Without even looking up from your own book, you give a fond laugh, shaking your head.

"It was more just a formality half the time," you tell him with an easy smile, "a place to keep my stuff." Looking at him beside you on the sofa, you see he understands the implications, the holidays you and the others have reminisced about, the trysts masquerading as something much more innocent that you would share with them all when you were at the Estate. There's nothing judgemental in his eyes, there never was when it came to Oliver, "why?"

"It all just feels very much like you in there," he offers, gaze wandering as he speaks, "Felix's room feels very You-And-Felix, and I get bits of him in your room too, but it feels much more you." You're actually rather surprised by how well you understand what he means, "like up on your roof you've got these little stars. They glow. I didn't notice them the first few nights."

Your smile widens, all bright and warm, and you close your book.

"Do you want to have a sleepover, Ollie?" You ask with a childish kind of glee. The offer seems to take Oliver by surprise, but you lean forwards, "like an actual sleepover, like we're kids again."

"You still do just sleepovers?" Seems to escape Oliver without him quite meaning it to, and for a moment your expression does falter a little.

"Yeah," you can't help but feel a little self conscious, "promise I'm not trying to seduce your or anything," then, shifting your legs from him you shuffle back to sit cross-legged on the sofa, "we actually do them kind of a lot, or, well, I do. I think Farleigh and Ven have a few and I know when they get tipsy Ven and Fi have had a few. Sometimes after events when we were teenagers we'd all head back to one of our rooms and end up all passed in the same bed trying to fit in like sardines, all four of us."

"That's very cute," Oliver says softly after a long moment of silence, and when you finally meet his gaze again, he's smiling.

"Yeah," you grin once more, "we were."

Which is how you ended up back in Oliver's room, back in your old bed, looking up at the canvas that made up your ceiling, stretched across the full length of the room, rigged and taught, littered with a constellation of glowing stars. Oliver, laying still beside you, asks about it, and you have to explain that there was no way in hell you would ever be allowed to mark the actual roof of any room in the Saltburn Estate. Which he realises makes a lot of sense once you say it out loud.

"But you should see Felix's ceiling, it's much more impressive," you tell him softly, not even aware how your smile was coming through even in your words. Oliver, bedside you, was simply quiet as he gazed at the glowing dots, "haven't you ever looked up at the ceiling in Fi's room?"

"Not properly," Oliver admitted quietly, and the silence lapses out between you both for several contented seconds, "did you two do this?"

"I did," you said proudly, "and this is just from what I had left over."

"What do you mean?"

"About this time, uh," you considered for a long while, trying to remember the full context of the stars that littered both yours and Felix's ceilings, "seven years ago I think, Felix pretended to have gotten really into astronomy as an excuse to always be out of bed, out on his balcony at night."

"But... he wasn't really?" Oliver's head shifted on his pillow to look at you and your amused smile. You shook your head.

"He picked up smoking from Venetia, she was bribing him with cigarettes to hide both her own habit and the fact that she gave it to him."

Oliver shifts beside you on the bed, no longer content with looking at the stars you'd placed there, interested, it seemed, only in watching you.

"How old was Felix?" He's looking at you, clearly listening and invested, but he seems distracted by something.

"Fourteen," you sighed, "Ven was fifteen, which really isn't much better -"

"And how old were you when you picked the habit up from Felix?" Oliver asks with the faintest, knowing quirk of his lips. Embarrassed about how well he seemed to know you, your whole face scrunched up momentarily, "fourteen?" Oliver teased when you refused to answer, grin widening as you squeezed your eyes shut. Still, he went on, "so when you say Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago to hide his smoking habit, you mean you and Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago?" And this is when you feel Oliver's gentle fingertips touch your flustered face. His fingertips beginning to glide so gracefully along your features, as you relaxed into a simple, embarrassed smile.

You really weren't trying to do anything untoward with him tonight, you weren't lying about that. Still, you wouldn't rebuff any kind of gentle affection he had to offer.

"Well, yeah," you admitted, and Oliver makes a noise for you to continue as he seemed to be wanting to map each delicate feature on your face through touch alone, "but Fi ended up really getting into it. Went through this whole big astronomy phase that year - I say that year; he still really into it - but back then, it was..." you closed your eyes, letting yourself be immersed in the memory of how excited Felix had been. Felix was always a beautiful sight to behold when he was passionate.

"Little Felix," Oliver mused fondly, "bet he was desperate to be an astronaut." Oliver touches you like you're porcelain, so delicate and precious, his fingertips skimming your cheeks and brushing your eyelashes.

"Actually," you laughed a little, though not unkindly, at the memory. Opening your eyes, you turn just enough to be looking at Oliver, to catch the adoring look in his eyes as his hand stilled, now simply holding your cheek, "he wanted to be the guy who got to give speeches about the stars and planets and the universe every day at the planetarium," you recounted, "and become a Doctor of Astronomy so he could make the videos they play in the room with the domed roof that you get to lay back and watch in the dark," you grinned, "but also then he could still be the guy who gave the speeches, but he'd get to answer questions about his own movie about the universe as well." After a moment of silence, Oliver smiles so widely and genuinely; you know he can see it so clearly, "he'd be so good at it, wouldn't he?"

"He'd be cute," Oliver agreed softly, fondly.

"So for his fifteenth birthday, I spent weeks designing and figuring out how to rig this piece of canvas across his whole roof, since I couldn't paint or mark his ceiling, what with this being a heritage building," you explained, proud little smile on your face, "and I asked my nan about all these paints and fancy pigments and stuff that would last and would glow in the dark, because nan's a painter and she's always had this gift with like, making her paintings look like they glow," you turned to Oliver, expression so adoring, "but Fi turned fifteen while we were at boarding school, so the very next break we had, I convinced him to spend the first week visiting Farleigh and his aunt in America, while I was back here, spending night and day on this. I had the whole canvas stained navy, and nan even stayed here for a few days to help me with painting it all perfectly and making sure all my paints would do exactly what I wanted them to, and we painted this canvas-ceiling I'd set up for him to look like his favourite starscape at the London Planetarium." Giving a loud, contented sigh, you added almost as an afterthought, "there's probably a bunch of the print outs of references I used somewhere in the study; the Planetarium people were so lovely."

"Is that why Felix is doing a physics degree?" Oliver practically gasped like it was a revelation; right, you forgot Felix rarely bothered to explain anything about his academics to anyone. When you confirmed as much, Oliver seems somehow more shocked, "I never got the impression that he thought much of uni." It's... not an incorrect observation to have made about at least half of Felix's academic career.

"He gets weird about it, about talking about it and stuff, thinks he sounds like a nerd," you agree after a moment, with a fond laugh, "he's got this weird mind for physics and anything really related to space and stars and astronomy, but he'd rather complain about the electives that he takes despite knowing he'll hate them."

"Then why does he take them?"

"A lot of them are actually my core subjects," finally you admit, a little abashed, "he knows I'm not as fond of my course as he is of his, so he takes them out of solidarity and complains the whole time." You're pretty sure Oliver can hear the sickeningly sweet undercurrent of I love him, I love him, I love him in your tone, but you can't help it. Neither of you have much more to say on the matter, but you think you know what Oliver's thinking. Something about favouritism, about best friends, about how he's pretty sure that Felix Catton wouldn't do that for anyone else.

And he'd be right.

"Hey Ollie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I move closer?"

"'course," his voice is warm and soft and before you even move he's coaxing you closer to him, arm around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over," you yawned, but the affection in your voice was sincere. A chuckle rumbles through Oliver's chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you for suggesting it."

Oliver's warmth is familiar and foreign all at once. How is it that you could have missed someone so much despite only having spent one night beside him.

However the following morning, over breakfast, Elspeth gives you a reminder about an upcoming event that you'd been trying desperately not to think about.

"Y/N, darling, I just thought I'd remind you about the Arts Collective dinner we'll be hosting in a few days," her voice is carefully neutral as she brings it up. You freeze, "Duncan needs to finalise the numbers today so the kitchen can start figuring out what we need to order. We'll be gathering in the fairy garden for drinks and canapes beforehand." What she's really trying to ask is if you'll be in attendance considering your mother's name is on the guest list. Before you can properly answer, however, she turns to Farleigh and asks if he's still intending on joining the garden portion of the gathering.

"As usual, I will I'll indeed be showing my face for wine and cheese," he says, though his smile is tight, "at my mother's behest."

"I'll be taking dinner in my study that night," you force a smile at Elspeth, and she gives you the same kind of look that was so often directed towards Pamela. Pity. Sympathy. You poor, dear, thing, I understand. In a moment, however, she brightens once more and asks if Oliver would like to join the pre-dinner gathering, or if he'd simply like to attend dinner, dismissively assuming that both of her own children would be forgoing the garden themselves - she'd be right.

You can feel Felix looking at you as you return your focus to your breakfast, but you remain uncharacteristically stoic for the rest of the meal. As your plate is taken away, you try to shake your negativity, looking up and around as you ask if any of the others have plans for the day. Swimming, reading, lounging around; leisure, as always. But you feel as though you'll get lost in your own head if you don't do something with yourself today.

So instead, you find something suitable to garden in, and spend a good deal of the day in your garden, uprooting all of the purple pincushions in preparation. It's satisfying to be working with your hands, satisfying to be ripping the flowerless stalks up by the roots and disposing of them in a bucket to later be composted. You'd brought your iPod and little speaker and make a day of it in the garden, waiving the staff off who offer to help, only asking them what the garden needed that day.

You till the soil you'd just disturbed, mixing fertiliser in in preparation for the plants due to be arriving in a day or two, and water the rest of the plants in both rings. You take great care, admiring each flower in bloom, and even the more utilitarian ivy that curled across the latticed archway of an entrance.

Some of the staff members bring you food and water throughout the day, and for each one that does, you invite them to stop and sit and talk for any time they had spare. All seem surprised by the invite, and even moreso when you seem to know them by name, and how eager you are to ask them about themselves. They also all seem grateful to get off their feet for a few minutes.

Duncan sits very awkwardly opposite you at the picnic table. He does not touch the food he has brought you, even as you push it to the middle of the table, as an offering. Duncan does not ask questions. Duncan has never much liked speaking unless spoken to. But still, you know he's more than willing to refuse a request for company such as the one you'd made, so you take the kindness for what it is. He watches you down the bottle of water he'd also brought like your life depended on it.

"How long has it been since you last applied any sunscreen?" He does finally broach the surprisingly comfortable silence. He'd provided you with a tube of the stuff as you'd announced your intentions to spend the day gardening, and now it sat at the other end of the picnic table with the gardening tools. You promise to reapply after you'd finished your lunch, but smile at him warmly. He gives one of his awkward smiles back, and asks if you need a hat, which you decline.

"Your mother has confirmed that she will be in attendance with the Arts' Collective," he says, and you go still, "what would you like to be brought for dinner that evening?" The confirmation stings, but you know this is Duncan's way of showing he cares about you. You get to pick your own dinner, unlike most other nights, and he won't subject you to the cruel anticipation of wondering just whether your mother really would or would not be in the same house as you.

Trying your best to smile, you let him know that you'll think about it, and get back to him tonight. With a faint nod, Duncan stands smoothly, and leaves the garden once more. He'd always been good to you, in his own way.

By mid-afternoon, you've done all you can, and head back to the house to soak, and perhaps even have a sulk about the upcoming event, in the tub until you had to get ready for dinner.

Except Felix doesn't even knock before he bursts into the bathroom, already in his suit with a bottle of champagne in his hand. He's practically radiating joy as he informs you that he and the others had managed to get their hands on several bottles of champagne and are going to hit the tennis courts before dinner.

Black tie tennis and getting absolutely shitfaced sounded great right about now. You were already feeling pretty recovered from the day seeing as you'd spent over an hour in the bath already, so much to Felix's delight, you agree to join them with a delighted grin. From somewhere behind him, Venetia also orders you to wear something flashy.

"If you're in a black suit too I swear I'm going to scream!"

Which is how you end up in your bright red suit pants with the red, silk paisley embroidery, and matching suit vest, buttoned up, with nothing beneath it. It's also the kind of thing you can move in, throw yourself around in, which is perfect for how the five of you play tennis.

Champagne bottle in one hand, tennis racket in the other, the sunset paints you all a joyful gold. Swapping in and out on all sides to play even games, you find yourself forgetting everything that had been weighting you down, instead drowning in your friends laughter. So often your gaze is caught by Oliver and Felix, cheering, drinking, playing. Love swells in your chest at the sight.

You all share giggles over dinner, and while Elspeth and James and Pamela can all clearly tell that you're all already drunk, the way the five of you are all grinning softens their exasperation.

After, not wanting this rather fantastic evening to end, you end up on one of the many balconies or patios, you're not sure which, sharing a sofa and several cigarettes, and the last of a bottle of champagne with Felix. He's got his head in your lap, pointing out constellations, but all you can see is him, the stars shining in his eyes and wide, excited smile he always got when he was rambling about something he was passionate about. Good how you loved his passion; you wished Oliver were here to see him like this. Of course Oliver loves him, and of course he's desperate for Felix to love him back; to be loved by Felix was -

"You're thinking about Ollie, aren't you?" Felix's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you can see he's grinning up at you, nothing but affection in his eyes.

"I'm thinking about you," you corrected, carding your fingers through his hair.

"You're always thinking about me," he says it so easily, so dismissively, throwing the idea away despite how vain it would sound if it weren't rather true, still he takes on a teasing tone, "you get this look about you when you think about Ollie," he reaches up and pokes your cheek.

"He loves you," you give a contented sigh after a moment, expression turning soft, of course he does, how could he not? But that's also kind of a given.

"And you," Felix's jabbing finger turns to a gentle hand holding your face, "that's why we're being absolute sluts, isn't it? Trying to get him to make a move?" And you laugh, loud and bright, in agreement. But then, after a moment, there's a change in Felix, something in his eyes. It's not jealousy, but it's more serious than before.

"Fi?" Your voice is soft, and he smiles at you, overwhelmingly adoring.

"I've been getting to watch you fall in love," he said gently, incredulously, "how weird is that?" Something tightens in your chest.

"Again," you correct. Felix gives you a vaguely confused look, but you can't help but shake your head at your beautiful fool of a best friend, "you get to see me fall in love again, Felix." You roll your eyes, but as he's hit with the implications of your words hit him, a beautiful flush works its way up his cheeks. He actually has to cover his face with his hands, embarrassment and joy lighting up his expression.

"You're so sappy," he crows, "you are so fucking sappy!" You practically cackle with glee draping yourself over him, onto his chest, the two of you awkwardly wrapped up in each other on this little sofa. As your laughter dies down, you give a faint hum.

"But he's not your competition, for the record, he never really was -"

"I'm not jealous! I've told you that!" Felix insists, "I thought I made that clear!"

"You have, Fi," you laughed, "but what I'm saying is... well, he knows I love you both, and he loves me, but he's not -" ever going to love me the way he loves you, God, you can't say that. It takes the last bit of self restraint you have to bite that back, shifting to get a little more comfortable, you reach out and stroke Felix's hair.

"Fi, I have spent months watching him fall so in love with you, the way I often hope, or," you laughed a little self conciously, "feared, the rest of the world would," and slowly Felix uncovers his face, those big, brown eyes of his full of all kinds of hope and affection, "he was never your competition, Fi, he's mine," you joked.

"Oh," the flush on his cheeks only grows steadily darker, and the faint exclamation comes out as more of a breathless gasp, "Ollie's your competition for..." He grins sheepishly, like he just wants to hear you say it.

"You, Fi," you tell him with an affectionate grin, but for it up with a nonchalant shrug and teasing smirk, "though competition implies that either of us would make you choose."

You would never let him know the full truth. You'd let him believe wholeheartedly that while you both loved Oliver, he reciprocated that wholeheartedly. Which was... mostly true. True enough that it kept Felix happy and you happy enough.

Yes, Oliver loves Felix, and therefore loves you by extension. Only you knew how sharp that distinction really was.

But you realised Felix was right; he was watching you fall in love with Oliver, and you too had been watching him fall for the boy as well, even if it did seem to be a slower process than it had been with you. You reasoned that Felix had far more reason to be cautious with his heart, especially with men. The first and last boy you'd seen him fall in love with broke his fucking heart at Saltburn, you knew part of him was terrified for history to repeat itself. But clearly he couldn't stop himself from falling in the end.

It was a waiting game now, either Oliver makes a real move and proves his love and loyalty to Felix, or Felix makes a real move and proves to Oliver that his affections are entirely, overwhelmingly genuine. So you'd be the proxy when you had to be, something a little safer for them both while they built up the courage.

Though you're not above stressing this tension that's building between them. The bend before the break, how far it would go before it snaps and you can all stop dancing around this thing that you all clearly want.

And an opportunity arises in the days that follow.

Saltburn creaks it's own kind of melody, it always has. You've become used it, learned the ebb and flow of the house and it's noises, the way it settles itself as it cools from the Summer afternoon heat. You know which door is shutting in the rooms adjacent to yours and Felix's just by the sound of the latches alone, and you know all too well which floorboards squeak along the halls you frequent.

On Felix's balcony, winding down for the day with a book as he takes a bath before bed, you don't hear the creak of the little hall between Oliver's room and the bathroom. The blinds are drawn over the bathroom window, but you catch a faint bit of movement in the mostly dark hall and give pause in your reading.

You could barely make out the arch of a shoulder through the break in the blinds, but you could tell that beautiful, bathing Felix had himself a captive audience. Part of you wondered if it was by chance or by choice, if Oliver was watching or simply listening, and if Felix knew either way. He'd have to; there's no way Oliver was adept enough at moving through Saltburn silently that Felix hadn't heard that awful floorboard that creaked right before the bathroom door.

Oh there was purpose to this, you were sure. Felix knew the feeling of Oliver's gaze upon him, the want he so callously toyed with, seeing it in Oliver's eyes all too often. All the world's a stage for Felix Catton, you just wonder what kind of reaction he's trying to pull from tonight's audience. Settling back in with your book, all you can do is wait.

When you hear the water start to drain from the tub, you still take your time, give them both time for anything to occur, before you feel a sense of disappointment or defeat in your heart.

"Can I come in and brush my teeth yet?" You knock loudly at his door and hear Felix laugh on the other side.

"Since when do you knock?" Wrapped in his robe and sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Felix is drying his hair with his towel as you come in. Before you can answer, he follows it up with, "since when did you care if I was in the bath for that sort of thing?"

"It's called respecting your privacy, Fi," you tell him, swanning past him to get to your toothbrush. You do give pause, however, stopping in front of him, and he lowers the towel, as if in anticipation. For a moment you lift his chin, loving the way he grins in almost sappy anticipation, and you give him a quick peck on the lips before you're moving on again and he's back to getting the water from around the edges of his face and ears.

Oliver, who'd watched the whole exchange after slinking into the bathroom from the opposite door, looks quickly at himself in the mirror as you join him in collecting your toothbrush.

"Do you want me to start respecting your privacy?" There's half a joke in Felix's voice, since it's a strange sentiment for you both, especially at Saltburn. Oliver's gaze flicks to you, then to Felix in the mirror.

"If I needed privacy I know you'd respect it," toothpaste on your brush, you leave Oliver's side of the bathroom to join Felix, the two of you having devolved from a real conversation, into some kind of silly, mock-conversations entirely consisting of eyebrow movements, and trying not to choke on your laughter as you brushed your teeth.

Oliver was watching, of course, Oliver was always watching, but you kept noticing the way he'd glance at the bathtub as it continued to drain between the three of you, stealing focus. There was tension in his shoulders, in his gaze, in the way he held himself. Never turning away from the sink - you'd bet he was hard. Oblivious Felix - at least that's how he appeared - was doing nothing but the most mundane bathroom task, which still wasn't able to help Oliver's current state with the way he was glowing, content and beautiful in the steamy bathroom, hair still slick and curling and clinging to his beautiful face.

You watch Oliver swallow hard in the mirror, but then his gaze meets yours. In this moment you don't do anything, you barely acknowledge what you saw, but you see the rapid way he starts to blink as he looks away, as if hoping he'd imagined the look in your eyes.

You finish brushing your teeth in silence after that, only stopping to wish Oliver good night after Felix does, the two of you closing your door to the bathroom.

"I'm going to finish my chapter then I'll be right with you," you tell Felix with a warm smile, picking up your book on the balcony as he yawned loud and wide. He tells you there's no rush, that he'll be out in only a few minutes. True to his word, after a long day, his deep breathing starts to take over not too long after the lights go out.

Except for the one in the bathroom. Just as you'd expected.

You turn out the lamp on the balcony, and move quietly through the darkness. Yes, you know the way Saltburn creaks and moans, know how to make yourself known, or how to slip through the shadows like you're made of them. The old house is well maintained, the hinges on doors don't creak if you move them right, you can slip into the role of observer with ease if you know how.

Behind you, you close the door almost all the way, making sure the latch sits flush with the door for privacy without it's click of proper closing giving you away.

The water is still draining from the tub, Felix's water, and Oliver there along with it. The running water echoes through the old pipes, but not loud enough to cover the lewd noises you hear from the bathtub. The slurping, the moaning, the grateful sighs of contentment to be afforded this moment of perversion.

You let him have his moment. Then you let the door click shut.

Immediately Oliver sits up, panic on his face; he looks like he wants to say something, to explain himself, say anything, but he can't seem to find the words. It's like he was expecting Felix. Or even if he was expecting you, he was expecting judgement. When you remain quiet, remain observant, you watch his panic fade to something wary.

Why? You knew exactly what he was doing, why are you just standing there, watching him? You can see the questions in his eyes, and feel your heart rate pick up. Slowly, you move towards him. Slowly, you let yourself smile.

Oliver sits back in the tub, never taking his eyes off of you, the way you stalk around the space, predator and captured prey, caught red handed. Your fingers trail the lip of the tub, graceful, threatening, until you get to him, his shoulders pressed against the porcelain. His expression is taut, defiant, ready to push back against any kind of mockery or blackmail attempts, you assume.

No, you want him to relish this moment.

You curl your fingers in his hair, leaning down by the edge of the bathtub to make sure he finally sees how pleased you are by this development. The moment he realises, you can see his thinly veiled panic turn to a conflicted kind of desire. But you don't give him another moment before you crash your lips to his, wasting no time, licking at his lips to deepen the kiss, to taste Felix on his tongue.

And you climb into the bath with him, sitting on your knees between his spread legs, mouth on his like you're desperate to devour each other. Oliver is pressed against the edge of the bath, one arm along the edge, the other braced beside him, his mind still catching up to the moment even as he gasps into your mouth.

You break the kiss, the faintest hiss from your kiss-bruised lips being all he needs as a reminder to be quiet. Everything about him has changed, has become needy, pupils so shiny and dark with lust you could lose yourself in him. Instead, you let go of his hair, taking his jaw in a forceful grip, tilting his head to the side roughly, fingernails digging into his cheek. But his eyes flutter closed, choked kind of whimper escaping him, half muffled behind your hand over him mouth as you carefully angle his head back a little further.

He'd indulged himself in Felix's bath water, pressed himself into it, tried to lose himself in it, and the remnants of those moments of extasy clung so delicately to his skin. You take your time, kissing delicate drops of Felix's water from Oliver's beautiful features like a lover, temple to cheekbones down to his jaw. When you finally relax your grip on him, his head tilts enough for him to meet your gaze. Oliver is yours, totally and completely at your mercy. Good. Once his gaze moves to your mouth, to the pleased, hungry smile you wore, he couldn't look away.

With your hand trailing down his body, teasing against his ribs and belly until your nimble fingers find their way beneath the elastic of his pyjama pants, he tries to meet you in the middle, tries to kiss you, but that's not how this game goes.

The hand you'd been using to brace yourself over him pressed against his chest, pressing him back against the porcelain, and you go with him, your cheek pressed to his, lips by his ear, his heavy breathing, desperate panting in your own. The hand on his chest finds his necklace, entangling two fingers in it until it became tight enough that you could feel the hard way he swallowed when you finally wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock.

"Good boy," you purred into his ear as you worked your hand up and down his cock, already leaking precum into his boxers. Oliver bites down on your shoulder to muffle his moan, and you have to fight to keep your own whimper quiet. The two of you find a rhythm, panting echoing in each other's ears and Oliver's hips rocking to meet your hand each time.

When you move away, Oliver looks momentarily despairing - no, please, don't stop! - in his eyes, but you reassure him with a languid kiss as you ease his pyjama pants down enough to properly free his cock. Now, when you sit back on your heels, he watches you with a dark kind of want in his eyes. Like a cornered animal, unsure of what to expect, but full of anticipation nonetheless; he watches you reach behind yourself to the drain, to the last remnants of Felix's bathwater still clinging to the metal and porcelain. You gather as much of the liquid as you can across your fingers, palms pressing into the mostly diminished puddles.

You can see it when Oliver realises what you're doing, the way his eyes transfixed on your hand as you wrap it around him. Already slick with his own precum, your hand glides with the remnants of Felix's water. Oliver's head drops back against the edge of the tub, mouth open and desperate and gasping, his eyes closed. God he's gorgeous like this.

He coaxes you up to him this time, and you let him, press yourself to him, rocking gently along with the movements of your hand and his hips, close enough to fucking to tease you both. For all this was about Oliver, every part of you felt alive and on fire with need, and seeing him like this, getting him into this state and knowing how he looked at you, how much he wanted you in this moment, it was doing things for you. Fantastic things.

When he gets close, he wraps an arm around you, hand holding the back of your head in a far firmer grip than you'd been anticipating. But there's a thrill about it, about how he holds you so tightly, his lips by your ear as you obligingly speed up to meet the frantic pace of his hips.

"Felix~" he keens, a desperate whimper in your ear amid dizzying, gasping breathes, hot against your neck. And again, Felix's name pulled from Oliver's lips like a desperate prayer for only you to hear. Something about hearing it tips you over the edge, and you realise how close you are in this moment. All it takes is you making the faintest whine, a noise of encouragement -

"Felix, please," Oliver gasps, and your breath catches as you see stars behind your eyes. You barely feel it when Oliver sinks his teeth into your shoulder once more, his orgasm hitting mere moments after yours, cumming all over your hand and his stomach. Finally, Oliver lets you go, eyes wide as you lean back with the widest, satisfied smile. There's blood on his lips, watching you with this unreadable expression as you sit back on your heels again.

Your head's still spinning, endorphins pulsing through your blood alongside the adrenaline.

Neither of you move for a long moment, still sizing each other up it seemed, at least until you raised your hand. Oliver all over you. You won't be the one to back down; his eyes meet yours and you smile, all satisfied and wolfish as you slowly lick your fingers clean. He's transfixed again, watching the way you lap him up.

No-one's ever looked at you like that, like they're desperate for you to devour every inch of them. But the moment can't last, not outside of your memories at least.

You leave in silence, just as you'd arrived, leaving Oliver alone in the bathtub, watching you like he can't quite be sure it wasn't all a dream. You hope he dreams about this, about your blood on his tongue and Felix's name on his lips.

Except you reach for the door handle only to realise it's cracked ajar. Its closed over, door almost flush and closed, but not quite. Huh. You could have sworn... But you shrug off the thought, slipping back into your room and making sure to shut the door properly behind you.

Pyjama pants and underwear both damp for several reasons, you pull them off and quickly toss them into the laundry hamper. At this moment, you can't bring yourself to bother with anything more than a new pair of underwear before you're crawling into bed beside Felix. Who's on his side.

Huh.

Felix never sleeps on his side because it messes with his shoulders. He's also still, like he's holding his breath. When you curl an arm over him, cool hand resting on his chest, you can feel his racing heartbeat. Finally, his breath comes stuttering out. Pressing yourself up against him, you hum faintly, hand drifting lower, teasingly. You rest your hand low on his belly, between the gorgeous, defined lines of his hips, but refusing beneath his waistband. There comes a faint huff from Felix, but it's indecipherable; he's still on edge, clearly having realised that you'd connected all the dots.

When you speak it's practically a moan, voice low but sharp in his ear as you let your fingers dip lower. What a night it will be to remember, spent keeping your boys happy.

"Fi, you fucking pervert."

[madaqueue]

eternally, yours

chapter 8 | patience

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, angst, smut. language, pet names (baby, angel, love), mentions of death/loss, blood drinking, depictions of motor vehicle accident. switch!choso, fingering, p in v (cowgirl). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.4k

a/n: fun fact the last scene of this chapter is what inspired me to write this series hahahaha i can't believe we've already made it this far!!!! yeehaw

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You had never much cared for flowers. What was the purpose, after all? To rip something from the ground, taking away what it needs to survive, simply for your own pleasure? Melding the forces of nature to your own selfish desires?

And yet, in spring, you find yourself surrounded by bouquets, handpicked by cold fingers on Choso’s route to your apartment. Small daisies and flushed lilacs begin to fill your home, yet this time, they don’t seem to wilt quite as quickly as they had in the past. Maybe the act of his devotion, the quiet walks through heavy rain, wet soil lining the sidewalks, truly was protective after all, his love life-sustaining.

The days continue to lengthen, sun beaming through the increasingly sparse clouds. On the first truly warm day of spring, you and Choso take the opportunity and bring Megumi and Yuji into the woods, visiting the lakehouse Sukuna had offhand mentioned to his younger brother a few times. Despite their near-incessant arguing, you think they must nevertheless care about each other - after all, they couldn’t have lived this long together without something tying them together, right?

As Choso’s car pulls up the gravel driveway, the cabin blends into the surrounding trees, the wooden beams forming into an A-frame peak, stark against the blue sky overhead. Sukuna never struck you as someone who enjoyed connecting with nature, which is perhaps why everything inside is covered in a thin layer of dust, swirling in the sunlight filtering in through the windows as you open the door.

Megumi and Yuji immediately take off running, scouring to find the ideal bedroom as you and Choso haul luggage inside. “Dibs on the bunk beds!” their excited screams echo from upstairs as you make your way inside.

The first floor is utterly gorgeous, high ceilings constructed in oak planks, a fireplace tucked into the corner of the living room, overlooking the fully-stocked kitchen despite the fact that it seems like no one had visited here in years. Sturdy wooden steps lead the way upstairs, presumably where the bedrooms are situated, a large balcony overlooking the dining table.

Pulling your body into his, Choso’s arms encompass you. “Think we should let ‘em have the bunk beds?” he smirks.

“I dunno, I kinda like being on the top bunk,” you giggle, “it makes me feel tall.”

His deep laugh fills the space as footsteps pound upstairs, presumably from Megumi and Yuji racing through the unfamiliar space. Suddenly, it hits you: this feels like home. You and Choso here together, in the safety of a novel space, with your brothers playing upstairs: it’s everything you ever wanted.

Before you can complete the thought, the two boys appear before you, nearly slipping as they run down the stairs. Dressed in their swim trunks, they grab at your hands, desperately trying to pull you outside.

“C’moooon, let’s go to the lake!” Yuji whines.

“I wanna swim!” Megumi echoes, tugging at your arm.

“Give us a few minutes to get ready, okay guys?” you chuckle as Choso lugs your bags upstairs into the remaining master bedroom.

Once inside, he immediately locates the attached bathroom before stashing a small red and white cooler inside, the contents softly rustling against the foam interior. He prides himself on separating the dark parts of his life from you, hoping to avoid having your light cast upon them. Locking the door, he opens it quietly, listening for any sign of you from downstairs. His fingers wrap around the familiar plastic of a blood bag, crinkling in his grasp. Just as he lifts it to his lips, your voice calls from outside.

“Cho, I’m gonna get changed and meet the boys outside - they’re a little eager to get out there,” you laugh.

“Sounds good, be down in a minute,” he calls, desperately trying to hide the waver in his voice. 

The bag rustles in his shaky hands as he hears you rummage through the suitcases. Upon finding your swimsuit, he waits for your footsteps to fade away as you return downstairs and outside.

Finally alone, his attention returns to his meal. Just a precaution, he reasons, a way for him to ensure an internal peace today without having to worry about you seeing him for what he truly is. Fangs piercing the bag, he gulps the sanguine fluid down his throat, his body automatically relaxing as it courses through his veins.

Quickly wiping any remnants from his lips, he hides the cooler once again before digging through his suitcase and pulling on swim trunks to join you outside.

The sun shines brightly overhead, warming your skin as you saunter down the stone stairs towards Megumi and Yuji playing in the sand next to the dock. Before long, the sliding glass door from the cabin hits your ears as you turn to face Choso.

A smile immediately graces his face as he sees you, absolutely glowing under the golden hues above. His cheeks threaten to flush as his eyes trail lower over your body, perfectly outlined in your bikini. Get yourself together, he thinks to himself, shoving down his impure thoughts. But god, when he finally meets you by the beach, the scent of vanilla lingering on your skin as you stand beside him, you look absolutely tantalizing, his body suddenly uncomfortably hot.

An idea flashes across his mind despite the lust that clouds it. “Race you guys into the lake!” he shouts, garnering the attention of Megumi and Yuji who had been wrestling nearby. The patter of footsteps fills your ears as the three of them careen towards the lake, leaping off the edge of the dock. Each splash is met with a scream as the cold water hits their senses, giggles taking over in their place as the shock settles.

“I beat you!” Yuji yells.

“Nuh uh, I won!” Megumi retorts.

Choso easily picks up the boys in turn, tossing them high into the air before they land back into the water. Excited shrieks fill the tranquil forest before Choso turns to you, a devilish glimmer behind his eyes. “I don’t know who won, but I know someone who definitely lost.”

Your younger brothers giggle, dramatic “ooooh’s” leaving their throats as he hoists himself out of the water and onto the dock.

“No, no, no!” you yell, but your efforts are futile - Choso’s arms wrap around you, pulling you against his damp skin, before he tosses you into the air.

The water hits your skin, its icy tendrils covering you as you’re submerged under it. Breaching the surface, a loud splash echoes through the air before another cold wave hits you. Choso resurfaces a moment later, shaking out his dark hair and splashing you and your brothers from where you float in the lake.

It’s easy to be here with Choso, with your brothers. The sun eventually warms fatigue into your skin, drawing you all from the water and to the beach. Evening settles as Megumi and Yuji traverse into the woods to scavenge sticks for a bonfire, leaving you and Choso to collect marshmallows and chocolate from inside.

Upon reconvening, the boys dump armfulls of twigs into the fire pit before Choso pulls out a small box of matches. Flicking it against the rocks, it ignites into small sparks. There’s a momentary hesitation in his muscles as the flames glimmer against his irises, illuminating the midnight pools behind them. It’s brief, but you catch the way he tenses before tossing it into the pile, sparking the bonfire.

“Alright, s’mores time,” he weakly chuckles, an attempt to diffuse the swirl of emotions bubbling inside him.

Seating himself on the ground a few feet away, you let the boys tear open the bag of marshmallows and eat them raw as you plop down next to him, the sand digging into your thighs.

It’s just a second, he swears, but when the wood collapses under its own weight he flinches. Memories of that night flood back - the house collapsing, the smoke in his lungs. It feels like he’s choking.

But your hand rubbing along his spine tethers him, pulling him back to the surface of his memories.

“You okay?” Your voice is clear, cutting through the blackened fog in his mind.

You’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe.

Finally, he takes in a full breath of air, his ribs expanding easily. “Y-yeah, sorry,” he mutters, unable to meet your gaze. His thumbs rub together nervously before resting his head on your shoulder, dark hair still slightly damp from the lake against the t-shirt (or rather, his t-shirt) hanging loosely off your body.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you gently squeeze his hand, his skin unsurprisingly cool despite the heat of the fire nearby.

You’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe.

Before long, the boys’ screams grow quiet as they rest against each other in the sand, nearly asleep from the hours in the warm summer sun. Picking Megumi from the ground, he rests his head on your neck as Choso carries Yuji on his back up the stairs. After tucking them into their respective bunk beds, the two of you return outside.

The fire now dwindles, embers twinkling against the dark sky, your path illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon above.

Choso’s eyes cover your body as you walk past him: the plush of your thighs, the swell of your chest underneath his shirt, your hair perfectly unstyled. Again, he feels the familiar ache within his bones. He craves you.

Being out in the sun does wear on him. He’s told you before it’s like the pounding in your skull right before a headache, or the total-body soreness after running a marathon. He’s always described it as exhausting in a physical sense, but held back the more psychological strain it places on him. Maybe that’s why he’s unable to hold himself back now, as though the poison of indulgence was finally beginning to wear against his cells, the only antidote being you.

As the sand shifts beneath your feet, carrying you around the fire, he can’t resist any longer: cool hands reach out and grab your hips, pulling you into his lap. The heat of the fire absorbed into the cloth of his t-shirt, the material now warm as you rest your chest against his.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, his voice low and gruff. Visions of you flash through his mind - you in that sinful bikini, you in nothing but his shirt, you below him, eyes closed and lips parted, mewling nothing but chants of his name.

The words, of course, go straight to your ego - unfortunately, he was just a little too fun to tease. “Oh yeah?” Rolling your hips forward slightly, you rub against his now-dry swim trunks, the material gliding beneath you. “Tell me, Cho.”

He groans your name, cheeks already flushing from the minimal stimulation. Desire builds inside him, eating away at the walls of his control. He needs you. “S-so beautiful,” he stammers as his hands snake beneath your shirt, your skin still warm beneath his palms. Trailing upwards, they grope at your perfect tits beneath the small triangles of your swimsuit top, gently kneading the supple flesh in his palms.

Feeling his cock twitch beneath you, you continue grinding against him, forcing a sharp inhale from his lungs. Burying his head into your shoulder, he weakly thrusts up into you, desperate for any source of friction. “H-hah,” he pants, “do you see what you do to me?”

The sound of your giggle is bright despite the darkness pooling around you as you trace your fingers to the back of his neck, gently carding them through his hair, currently down and cascading over his shoulders. “I dunno, Cho, I can’t see too much with those shorts still on you.”

And you don’t think you’ve ever seen him move so fast in your life. In one swift motion, he rips them down below his hips, his cock hitting his stomach before settling in the air. Saliva collects in your mouth at the sight of him, flushed pink tip and veins catching the dwindling light of the fire.

Your body, too, knows it needs him. Instinctively, your fingers trail down his chest before wrapping around his base, twitching in your palm. He’s practically shaking against you as you slowly, slowly stroke up his length.

“Much better,” you coo. Pumping your fist up, your thumb swipes below his tip, smearing the precum that had been leaking down as he shudders.

It’s sweet how little it takes to get him so needy.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, you’re shivering - are you cold?” you tease as he begins trembling beneath you.

“Y-you - fuck - you know that’s not it,” he manages to huff out. At this point, he’s grinding up into you, his hips desperately trying to match your pace, pleading for more, more, more.

“Then what is it, Cho? C’mon baby, use your words.” A sly grin tugs at your lips - it’s just too easy. Your motions speed up, wrist twisting as you glide up and down his length, grip tightening slightly as you reach his tip, in just the way you know makes his head feel fuzzy.

“Nngh - just - shit - you’re gonna make me lose control if you keep going,” he barely chokes out, his waist bucking into the air, only held down by your weight on his lap. And he knows it, too, his thoughts beginning to cloud, already lust-drunk just from your hand.

He’s never been quite sure what it is about you that drives him so crazy, so far from his own humanity. Yet, it’s easy for you, reducing him to pure animalistic need with just your touch, sometimes just your fucking scent enough to hurl him into the depths of his own hellish desires.

His words should have been a warning, but the alarms his body sends off fall on deaf ears as your motions never slow, your own hedonism beginning to get the better of you, too. The little whines and pleas leaving his lips are too sweet, leading you further and further for just another taste.

Rubbing your thighs together, it does little to quell the warmth pooling inside you. Choso was always so collected, especially with you - maybe it was being out in the sun all day, maybe it was how you purposely wore your most revealing bikini, maybe he was just growing too taut under the ropes of his restraint - but you want to see what he’ll do, to drag him to the precipice of his control.

When your lips make contact with the skin of his neck, your teeth biting down just hard enough, that’s all it takes. With a sudden inhale, the sting of your canines attempting to pierce his flesh, the fight within him dies - he has absolutely, and utterly, lost.

The cool summer air hits your heat as he tears your swimsuit bottoms off, falling to shreds in the sand beside you. “S-shit, sorry,” he mutters into your skin, but makes no move to stop.

Then his hand hurriedly traces down your body, landing between your legs. “So fuckin’ wet,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, as his thumb roughly circles your clit. “You seriously - fuck - this turned on just from teasing me?”

Before you can respond with some sarcastic quip, one finger enters your core, then two. A moan bubbles past your lips as he curls his fingertips towards you, hitting the gummy spot inside that pulls you closer and closer and closer. “Need you to cum f’me, need it s’bad,” he slurs. Oh, he’s gone.

“C-Cho,” you whine as you come undone around his fingers.

Before you can come down from your high, he’s already moving. A low growl rumbles from his throat as he lifts you up slightly, your thoughts still too cloudy to realize what he’s doing until the stretch in your core is suddenly amplified. His tip presses past the first ring of muscles inside you as he whines. “Relax for me baby, please, need t’be inside you.”

Suddenly, his hands are on your hips, a bruisingly tight grip as he allows gravity to pull you down. When he bottoms out inside you, his head falls forward, buried into your shoulder.

“Too big, Cho, t-too big,” you cry, your body on fire from the way he completely fills you.

“It’s okay, love, y’can take it,” he coos - for your sake as much as his. “Please baby, please take it, be good for me, yeah?”

And you do - your walls perfectly meld around him, warmth enveloping and coursing through his body. It’s so, so fucking hot, sweat beginning to collect on his forehead.

Your head spins as the firm grip on your waist is suddenly being used to lift you up. With one swift motion, he drops you all the way back down his length. Up and down, each thrust knocks the wind from your lungs, soft repeats of “ah ah ah” forced from your throat each time your thighs crash against his pelvis.

“Can’t stop baby, fuck, need you,” he breathes, voice husky and dripping in desire. “Need you so bad, need you so, so bad.”

His abs flex and relax with each thrust under the slowly-ruining cloth of his t-shirt. Your skin is so soft in his grasp, his short nails digging small crescents into the plush of your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, are weakly holding onto his shoulders, yet they provide no stability whatsoever. It’s rough and desperate and exactly what he needed.

Fucking himself up on you, hoisting your entire body into the air before letting you fall back against him, your eyes roll back each time your skin crashes against his. When his hips begin to thrust up in pace, he somehow reaches impossibly deeper, tip bumping into your cervix having your jaw loosely dropping open.

“Cho, nngh, s’good,” you mindlessly babble. By this point your head is too clouded in pleasure to really process the words, letting him completely manhandle you.

“Shh, angel,” he purrs, “you’re bein’ too loud, gonna wake everybody up.” And in that sentence, a more cognisant person could tell that he’s just as gone as you are - Megumi and Yuji are fast asleep and too far away to hear you, but neither of you pay attention to that little fact right now. “Gotta - hah - quiet that pretty lil’ mouth of yours.”

Just as your lips begin to form into a faux pout, two fingers are shoved past them. The wet sound of your cunt covers the slight gags as he presses against your tongue, your taste still lingering on his skin. “T-there ya go,” he pants, “much better.”

It’s easy to forget sometimes just how strong he is, but as he easily maneuvers you up his cock like you’re weightless, it’s all too apparent. Just how much does he hold himself back?

His mind is swimming in pleasure, too afraid to lift his head from your neck for fear he would abandon any last shred of control. A sound that could only be described as a whimper leaves his lips as your tongue swirls around his digits, his motions momentarily stuttering.

It’s all too much, your walls begin to flutter around him as he ruts into you.

Parting your lips, saliva begins to collect at the corners of your mouth around his fingers as you mumble. “M’close, hah, m’gonna-”

“I know angel, I know,” he breathes. Placing featherlight kisses along your neck, only serving to further tease himself at this point, it’s a harsh contrast to the rough slapping of his balls against you. “Me too, gonna - shit - gonna fill y’up baby, yeah?”

The question is more rhetorical than anything, knowing you’re unable to answer with his fingers between your lips. Moans of your name fill the quiet air, drool beginning to dribble down your chin as he shoves further into your mouth, the arm around your waist tightening as he angles his hips ever so slightly, just enough to hit the spot inside you that sends you over the edge.

With one final thrust, you lose yourself, the waves of euphoria nearly drowning you as your body shakes in his hold. Choso follows shortly after, his cock twitching as thick ropes of cum shoot into you.

As his hips finally still, he rests both his hands on your thighs, his touch now purposefully tender. The embers behind you softly flicker across his face, concern painted on it as his eyebrows furrow, the dark tattoo along his nose stretched with his cheeks pulling down into a frown.

Did he hurt you? He’s not sure he could forgive himself if the lapse in his judgement, the weakness of his resolve, caused you any harm. He knew it was a bad idea, he tried to warn you, to hold himself back, but it’s so hard when you’re so fucking perfect. He should have been stronger, should have stopped, should have been more patient, more in control.

“Are you okay?” he pants, chest heaving as he desperately sucks in air.

All you can do is nod, pupils wide and eyes glassy as you pull his head from your shoulder. Even when he loses himself, he’s still so gentle, so careful with you. He would never hurt you, even after dragging himself to the limits of his restraint. He will always keep you safe. Placing a gentle kiss to his lips, his entire body continues to tremble beneath you as a lazy smile graces his face.

“L-love you s’much,” he slurs, still clouded in the ecstasy of your body and now comforted by the warm blanket of your wellbeing.

You giggle again, light and airy as always. “Love you too,” you breathe, pressing chaste pecks across his flushed cheeks.

Resting your forehead against his, you allow a moment to pass, the sound of waves lapping against the shore filling the peaceful darkness. Then, he easily carries you upstairs, helping you shower the sand and sin from your bodies before settling into bed. The sheets are soft against your skin before he interrupts the silence by rustling the blankets as he sits up.

One part of his body’s desires were satiated with yours, but there’s another part - a darker part - that still hungers.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he hums, gently placing his lips to your forehead.

“Where are you going?”

There’s a sweetness to your voice, an innocence he can’t ignore, something he can’t bring himself to lie to. He hesitates for a moment before crumbling.

“I…I have to feed.”

His stomach drops as the words leave his throat, the seconds before you respond dragging on into a painful eternity. Every time he mentions his past, his true nature, he expects you to hate him, to reject him, to fear him. But when you simply tilt your head, there’s no malice behind your gaze - no, just curiosity.

“Can I watch?”

It takes him aback at first. Truthfully, you aren’t sure why you ask, but you can feel the pressure he places on himself, the desire to be some perfect version of ‘human.’ It weighs on him, and you hope this can lessen some of the burden, if even just a little, for you to see him as he truly is.

“Are you…sure?”

When you nod, a soft hum of affirmation, he can’t quite place the disgust he feels inside himself. Why doesn’t he want you to see?

When he doesn’t move, the muscles of his shoulders tightening as he stands in place, you continue. “If you don’t want me to, that’s okay too-”

“No, it’s not that.” Seating himself next to you, the bed bows under his weight. Sometimes, you do forget how big he is, how strong. “It’s just…” he trails off, “I don’t want you to see me differently.”

“Cho, I would never-”

“You know I’m not human. Sometimes it’s easier to ignore than others, but I’m not. I want to be, I want it so bad, but in seeing me do this, you won’t be able to forget it ever again. When you watch this, it’ll change you, it’ll change how you view me.”

Taking in a clear breath, you rub your hand across his back in reassurance. “Maybe it will.”

His entire body tenses, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Maybe it will change how I see you - but maybe I want that. I want to see you, the real you, the true you. I’ve never been scared of you, I’ve never hated you or seen you as anything less than the love of my life. And this…this is just a part of that life.”

Dropping his gaze to his lap, his head lowers, dark locks covering his eyes. A soft puff of air escapes his lips before they curl into a hesitant smile. “Okay,” he sighs, “if you’re sure.”

Reaching your hands into his, you squeeze them. “I’m sure.”

Silently, he rises, feet softly padding to the bathroom. When he reemerges, a red and white cooler hangs from his palm. He returns to his seat next to you on the bed, opening the container and revealing dark maroon bags carefully lined up in its interior.

The translucent plastic folds under the gentle grasp of his fingertips as he brings it to his lips. Locking eyes with you, the flames of fear behind his irises dull as you smile.

“I love you,” you hum, intertwining your fingers with his. And you do.

And it’s carnal.

But not violent.

He’s patient as his fangs poke through the plastic, his eyelashes fluttering shut as he drinks. It’s surprisingly quiet, the only sound a soft crinkling as the fluid drains from the bag.

When it’s completely empty, he breathes a sigh of relief, the static hanging around his body suddenly absent. You can feel it, too, the calmness spreading over him, the wrinkles of worry smoothing out.

Setting the empty bag into the cooler, he wipes the back of his palm against his mouth, removing any last trace of blood from it.

You’re not sure what draws you to do it - perhaps it’s seeing something so personal, so private, having glimpsed into the part of himself he loathes the most - but before you know it, you’re leaning forward, your lips crashing against his.

He tenses for a moment, afraid of what you’ll think, afraid of how you’ll react, before your tongue swipes against his. Eyes fluttering closed once again, he sighs into you, lips parting as you deepen the kiss.

There’s an unmistakable metallic taste lingering, but you don’t seem to mind - it’s so perfectly him.

He’s here. He’s at peace. You love him.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

You’ve always reminded Choso of the moon. Maybe that’s why he feels so calm under its gaze, as though it were you in the sky smiling down upon him, watching over him, patiently guiding him home. Home to you.

He wants to show you how he sees you, how beautiful you are in his eyes. As perfect as the moon.

Bringing you away from the city tonight, he hopes he’s finally found a way to do it. Your back lays upon the cool grass of the field, head resting against his chest as his fingers lazily draw circles along the small of your back.

“I’ve never seen so many stars,” you hum, gaze scanning the sky. “It’s beautiful.”

In the darkness away from the light of civilization, you can make out new constellations, entire galaxies reflected in the space above you. It doesn’t make you feel small, no - you feel connected. Every atom, every second in the universe’s creation led you to this moment, to be here, with Choso, with the love of your life.

It hits you, then, just how much time he’s lived, how much of the world he’s experienced. Squeezing your arms around his torso, you pull yourself further into him.

“You know,” he begins, and even though you can’t see his smile, you can hear it, “there were a lot of theories about the stars before we understood them the way we do now, before we could see them with telescopes and technology.”

Tilting your neck, your eyes land on his face, his black irises glowing in wonder as he focuses overhead.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

He grins so softly, so endearingly excited to share pieces of his past with you.

“Well, one of them was that the darkness was a blanket over the sky. The sun was always there, but just covered up at night. The stars, then, were holes poked in the blanket that let us see the brightness through them.”

Humming, you pause for a moment. “I like that idea. It feels…safe.” Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, he allows you to continue. “It’s nice to think that the sun is always there, always protecting everything. Even when you can’t see its light, it’s only temporary. It will always come back.”

His hands run up and down your back slowly, tickling along your spine. “It’ll always come back.”

The drive back to the city is peaceful. The wind rushes through your hair, head resting against your palm next to the open car window. Music crackles from the speakers of Choso’s car, your other hand intertwined with his over the center console.

“Do you remember what you were doing a year ago tonight?” he asks, his low voice gently breaking the comfortable silence.

You shake your head, turning your attention to him.

“You brought Megumi into the hospital - it was the first time I saw you.”

Warmth spreads across your face, heart fluttering in your chest. Your cheeks push up into a grin, overtaken in adoration. “I thought you didn’t keep track of dates, Cho.”

That sweet smile begins to spread across his face as he shrugs, eyes still focused on the road ahead to not give away his own nervousness - even after all this time, you still fluster him so easily. “I guess I met someone worth remembering them for.”

And you think you melt right there on the spot - not from the humid air rushing past you, no, but from the tenderness warming his words.

He’s here. He’s at peace. You love him.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since we met,” you hum to yourself, your voice quiet enough to nearly be lost in the buzzing background of the summer night.

He sighs contentedly. “It’s been the best year of my life.”

With a squeeze of his hand, you giggle. “And that’s saying something, because you’ve lived a lot of them.”

“Oh, are you calling me old now?” he chuckles - a sound you think you’ll never grow tired of, a proof of his happiness.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smirk. Settling your laughter, your gaze meets his. “I love you, Cho.”

“I love you too, angel,” he hums, the dark circles beneath his eyes seemingly lighter as they crinkle.

Suddenly, everything goes white.

The sound of metal scraping fills the silence.

Then everything hurts.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, every muscle torn and burning.

There’s the smell of smoke in the air.

Choso’s voice calls out from…somewhere. Your vision is blurry as it settles on the scene around you: his hands hooked under your shoulders as he tugs you from the car, its shape mangled around another vehicle.

“Help! Somebody fucking help,” Choso cries into the darkness, his voice hoarse from screaming.

Glancing down, his attention locks on you. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s okay,” he whispers. Something cool falls on your cheek - is he…crying? He must be, but you can’t quite make it out. “Stay with me, okay? I got you.”

Stroking your cheek with his thumb, it leaves a damp trail of blood along your skin - is it yours? You can’t tell.

“Somebody do something!” He’s yelling again, you realize. You’ve never heard his voice so loud, so broken.

He’s rocking your body in his grasp, but you can’t feel it, everything is too far away. You’re sure you’d be in pain, though. You’re sure it should hurt, but you don’t feel anything.

Just as your vision begins to fade into darkness, you hear his voice one last time:

“Do you want me to save you?”

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[lesbiansanemi]

What are the blood demon arts for your reverse au? Also do other minor characters have roles here(Like Masachika, Sanemis friend, or characters like Ozaki or Murata) I haven't read far in the series, past the third chapter so I apologize if my questions were answered in the fic.

Oooohhh yeah! I haven't talked in much detail about most of the characters' Blood Demon Arts. I don't have names for most of them yet because I'm bad at naming things lmao but I can give descriptions of what a lot of them do!

(Also don't ever feel like you have to apologize for asking me these types of questions, I greatly enjoy answering them :3)

Tamayo and Yushiro's are very straight forward. We haven't actually seen Tamayo do anything with her BDA but it's the same as her canon one just + the other abilities of a powerful Demon King. And then Yushiro got Nakime's BDA because I love the concept of the Infinity Castle and wanted it to be a major part of the AU

Gyomei's BDA is manipulation of bedrock. Can be used to cause earthquakes. Another way he utilizes it is forcing pillars of rock through the earth to impale enemies on them. Lots of different applications though

Sanemi's BDA basically allows him to create insanely powerful, concentrated bursts of wind that function like massive blades. Pretty straightforward and offensive ability. A flick of the fingers and he can bisect someone

Kyojuro's BDA is fire. Just fire lol. Kinda boring but I just greatly enjoy giving him fire manipulation. It does scale off his body temperature though, which is why it's mentioned that he runs so hot, and though we haven't seen it yet when he pushes his BDA to the brink he can get so hot he cannot touch or even be near anyone without lighting them up which. can cause issues...

Kanae's BDA gives her the ability to grow different flowers that affect the senses. Can be very very trippy and cause someone to fully question their reality depending on how intense she gets with it. But once someone breathes in the scent of the flowers, she can then alter their perception of sight, sound, touch, taste, scent, etc

Shinobu's BDA is the various different versions of her venom. Can be injected via her fangs and saliva, or through touch, some can be comparable to pheromones. The ones we've seen her use most often are the ones that quite literally dissolve and melt living tissue. But she also has aphrodisiacs, ones that cause paralysis, psychotic effects, etc. She has the range

Tengen's BDA is the manipulation of someone via his voice. The weaker willed the person, the more affective it is, both in the sense of how long the control lasts, but also how major of the action is that they'll go through with. Like if he told someone to kill someone they didn't want to, they'd likely snap out of it upon trying unless they are extremely weak willed

Mitsuri's BDA is emotional manipulation via touch. Kind of similar to Tengen's, but they do have distinct differences. Tengen's control is very one to one "give a command and they might do it depending on will power." Mitsuri's BDA genuinely alters someone's emotions, which if you know how to play with those properly (and she does) she actually has an easier time of getting others to do things they might not truly want to. Her drawback is that it requires touch, while Tengen's only requires his voice. They kinda have a rivalry about it

Sabito's BDA allows him to create hallucinations based on the victim's worst fears. Horrifying ability lmao Not much else to say. If a person isn't able to rationalize themselves out of it quick enough, gives him the easy opportunity to kill them

Giyuu's BDA is water manipulation. He can't create it, he has to work with preexisting water. But the human body is 70% water so. Always plenty to work with

Obanai's BDA is the summon and control of snakes from his own body. It's similar to how Daki's obi belts work in canon. He creates them from his own body, so there is a limited amount he can create, and doing so weakens his true body. Constrictors or venomous, he can make both. He can also control the size of them

Muichiro's BDA allows him to create a mist/fog that can cause amnesia once someone comes into contact with it, causing extensive confusion for the victim. Currently, it tends to slowly wear off once the mist fades

Makio's BDA is invisibility! Obviously amazing for stealth, and makes her an incredibly difficult opponent to fight head on

Makomo's BDA is similar to Sabito's, though in the opposite direction. She can create very, very pleasing and calming hallucinations that lulls victims into a false sense of security

Nezuko's BDA is similar to her canon one, just... a lot stronger. It's blood manipulation! Her own is the easiest to manipulate, but she can manipulate other people's. She does have to draw their blood first though

Those are all the Kizuki's BDAs, but here's a couple others for relevant demon characters

Zenitsu's BDA basically like... allows him to momentarily become lightning? Crack of thunder, and then a flash of lightning and he's gone, and a fraction of a second later there's another flash of lightning and he's in a different place. Very hard to control and tbh he kinda sucks at it

Kanao's BDA is crazy enhanced speed that borders on teleportation. It's a pretty straightforward ability, but it's one she already knows how to utilize extremely well

Inosuke's BDA is basically an extreme form of shapeshifting that no other demon is capable of. Will not be elaborating further than that atm because it's something I want to dig into with a lot of detail later lol

Kagaya's BDA is the ability to look into the future. Very similar to what he can do in canon, just a lot more specific, and also something he can kinda sorta do on command. He gets more reliable visions if he comes into contact with/touches people, places, or objects he's trying to see the future of

Amane's BDA is transportation via shadows. She (and anyone she is touching) can essentially melt into shadows and reemerge elsewhere out of a shadow. It's a great ability for evasion and ambushes. It alongside Kagaya's visions is how they've managed to evade Tamayo for so long

Senjuro, Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo have not developed BDAs currently

I think those are most of the major demon characters, or at least demon characters that are very relevant even if they've not had a ton of page time

Regarding characters like Masachika, Murata, and Ozaki, mega depressing answer, but most of them are old Kizuki that Tamayo ultimately ended up not caring much about so she never gave them much support so they. died. creating the spots for her "true" Kizuki (aka the ones she's obsessed with and convinced she can truly mold into her new family)

[daringdaisy]

Tangled Shells

Synopsis: The magically long-haired Michelangelo has spent his entire life trapped in a tower. He seems to be destined to stay there forever without his questions about the world left unanswered until an unlikely team stumbles upon his tower for refuge. Mikey will finally discover the world for the first time and who he really is, but ignorance is bliss. "All the guards look up in horror as they realize what has just happened. One of the guards sprints toward the exit and abruptly pulls down the emergency lever. The entire castle is bathed in a red hue, accompanied by blaring alarms." AN: I do understand that the shogun was in fact the military leader of all of Japan, but for this story, it just means captain. As always, feel free to have an constructive critism for my writing! ˋ°•*⁀➷PREVˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏMASTERLISTˋ°•*⁀➷NEXT

Chapter 1 - A Big Day ⚠️Mentions of blood and violence⚠️

The new day emerges crisp and clear as the early sun bathes the tower in a rosy, warm hue. A small band of birds chirp their melody on the window's ledge, filling the air with a certain tranquility. Little did they know, an eye was peeking out the window. A flicker of victory ignites in Mikey's mind as he sees an opportunity for new bonds.

In an instant, the window shutters are pulled back harshly. "Hello new friends!", an ecstatic grin on his face with open arms. 

Without sparing a second, the flock takes off into the air. Mikey reaches out towards them as they soar through the air, a look of longing written on his face. Mikey looks up at the sky, knowing that tomorrow the floating lights will appear. All of a sudden, a small Allen Hummingbird roughly crashes onto the ledge. Mikey can't help but notice she's wearing a black, ribbon necktie with a strange-looking pin in the center.

If he had to guess, it resembled a very barren pepperoni pizza with five slices. He couldn't help but feel as if he's seen that symbol somewhere before. He gently cups the small bird, trying to get a better look at the crest as she tries to escape from his grasp. Mikey's breath hitches as he notices something is wrong with her.

His hands tremble as he watches the poor thing helplessly flap her wings, straining her broken wing more by the second. His heart is breaking with each little distressed chirp.

“I can’t take this anymore!” he cries out as rushes into the tower, the hummingbird struggling even more. She begins to feel more relaxed as she enters the cozy atmosphere. Vibrant murals cover the walls from top to bottom. In one corner near the staircase, there are many unfinished projects related to knitting, pottery, and candle-making. The wooden beams are wrapped in vines and flowers that climb all the way up to the skylight, allowing just the right amount of sunlight to shine through. “I know you’re scared but I promise I won't hurt you.” 

Mikey gingerly places her on his pin cushion that's on his desk, her movement becoming less frantic. Mikey grabs a small strand of his hair as he slowly wraps it around her wing. The hummingbird tilts her head slightly, letting out a small tweet. Mikey looks towards her with an awkward smile, "Just trust the process, alright?”

A soft humming emanates from Mikey, his hair fading into a fiery orange. She just stares at him awestruck until his melody comes to an end. She wiggles her wing out of his hair easily, inspecting it for a few moments. Without hesitation, she starts buzzing around Mikey as she chirps nonstop. Mikey can't help but laugh in relief but the moment is cut as she approaches the window.

He lets out a deep sigh as he fiddles with his hair, "I guess you do have to go now. Thanks for staying around." Mikey starts dragging his feet towards the broom closet when he feels the bird perching onto his shoulder.

Mikey immediately brightens up once she realizes she's here to stay for now. "Oh, you will not regret this! Just imagine all the things we could do after we finish my chores like sewing, baking, and painting!" She tweets back towards him, replicating his excitement. This is it, Mikey's first friend. He may still be stuck in the same place but at least he has someone new to share it with.

As Mikey's prayers for a companionship have been answered, elsewhere, Raph's frustrations boil over in his relentless pursuit of answers.

He slammed his fists against his conspiracy board, sending papers and pictures flying around the room, except for the central images. In the center was the only one of the few pictures of the royal family. Donnie and Leo connected to Big Mama, red threads extending from her to highlight her recent crimes. Meanwhile, Mikey was linked to Baron Draxum by a single thread, their side completely empty. He paces back and forth near the board, clutching his helmet as some form of grounding. 

It's been two years since he committed to finding his brothers. He discovered that Baron Draxum's accomplice was Big Mama, the most notorious crime lord in the Hidden Kingdom, and the biggest pain in his ass. She has become increasingly audacious with her heists over the years. She's been been a looming threat over the kingdom for as long as he can remember. Too long if you ask him. It’s his duty to apprehend her, regardless of her connection to his brothers' disappearance.

As for Baron Draxum, he might as well be considered a ghost.

Raph, blinded by frustration, hadn't been watching his step when he heard something crack beneath his foot. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the broken picture frame of his family. He and his brothers were nestled in their father's embrace, and their smiles radiated with pure joy. He berated himself as he picked up the frame, tears threatening to spill. The photograph was riddled with cracks, each one rubbing salt in the wound. The most striking fissure ran boldly between him and his brothers. Just then, there was a knock at the door, nearly causing Raph's heart to jump out of his chest. "My son, may I come in?"

Raph manages to keep his voice steady as he organizes himself, "Give Raph a moment please". He places the broken frame face down on his desk. There is no reason to worry his father, especially for tomorrow. He crouches down as he quickly, grabbing all the fallen evidence and crams it down his drawers.

Splinter saunters into the room, a grin graces his face as he spots Raph. "Oh red, how I've missed you!" He quickly pulls Raph into a tight hug, nearly suffocating him but he manages to let out a huff of amusement, "Pops, I just saw you at breakfast like 10 minutes ago." Splinter laughs heartily as he pulls back from the hug, his hands on Raph's shoulders. "So? I can still miss you in that time". 

Raph's smile falters for a second as he truly looks at his father. He wasn’t questioning his father’s true emotions, but his smile just didn’t quite reach his eyes as always. They looked worn down by time yet were filled with so much wisdom. It was always hard for him to read his own father, except now. Splinter wasn't looking at him anymore, but behind him. Raph's stomach drops as the realization sinks in. Raph tries blocking his view, squeezing his hands as he attempts to redirect his attention. "Dad, I-"

Splinter's whole demeanor falls as he gently pushes Raph to the side. His father gingerly places his hand on the evidence board, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, "What is this?". Before Raph can utter an excuse, he cuts him off, his tone sharper. "No, it doesn't matter. This...this is over". Splinter yanks it off the wall, much to the horror of Raph. His arms instinctively reach for the open end. The duo starts tugging on each end.

"Let go of it, Dad! I still need this!" Using his size to his advantage, he yanks it towards him, pulling his dad along. Splinter keeps his ground strong however, a determined grimace on his face. "But why would you need something that's only causing you more trouble?" "Because it's not fair!", he blurts, his voice raw, "It's not fair that I'm kicking it up in a castle while my brothers are who knows where! I should have been able to protect them!"

Splinter lets go of the boardas if he's been burned, his eyes wide with shock. "Raph...". Raph hugs the board to chest, his breathing labored. "I'm supposed to be the shogun, right? The protector? How am I supposed to protect anyone if I can't save my own family?" For a moment, silence stretches between them. Splinter takes a step closer towards Raph, an unreadable expression on his face. "Raphael, you were only a baby. What happened to your brothers....it's not your burden to carry." Raph tries to cut him off but the words die on his tongue. "You're my only son now" Splinter starts choking on his words, his eyes swelling up with emotions. "I can't lose you too"

Raph's resistance crumbles as he extends the board toward his father. "I'm sorry Pops". The sight of Splinter so distressed tugs at Raph's heart, a sight he hates to witness. Splinter takes the board, his expression softening, "Don't be my son". He makes his way towards the door with a somber demeanor. The words hanging in the air like a fragile truce. The tension was thick, unyielding, and Raph's heart ached with the weight of it all. How was he expected to work in these conditions?

He looks down at his kabuto(helmet), a relic passed down from each generation. He looks towards the mirror as he puts it on. He wasn't exactly sure about the origin of the tradition, but it was a requirement that the firstborn child become shogun to demonstrate their leadership, strategic thinking, adaptability, integrity, and most importantly, courage. Although he doubts his qualifications to be a king, or shogun for that matter, he's determined not to give up. He still needs to reunite his family, even if it costs him his life.

Just as he's about to leave, he notices a pair of goggles staring at him through the window. He quickly turns around but his reflection just stares back at him. Raph grumbles as he reluctantly walks towards the door, grabbing his menpō(faceplate). "Raph's gotta stop staying up so late." 

He looks back towards the window one last time, trying to calm his nerves. Raph reminds himself that nothing or no one can make the upcoming anniversary of his brothers' disappearance worse.

Leo lets out a deep sigh as he takes a moment to appreciate the breathtaking scenery before him. "Wow! I could get used to a view like this, right Dee?". After a brief pause, he glances back at Donnie, who seems to be out of it today? Donnie is fumbling around with the lock a lot more than usual as if he's almost struggling. Donnie mutters something about who locks a skylight in the first place but he’s not really concerned about that. 

Donnie couldn’t shake the intensity of the argument he had just witnessed between the Emperor and the Prince. His mind fell on the evidence board, that photo of the royal family. It felt strangely familiar, but how could that be? Big Mama had unfortunately raised both him and Leo. Yet, the unsettling feeling lingered, pulling him in. 

“Earth to Donnie, you there?" Leo whispers loudly in Donnie's ear, pulling him out of his daze. Donnie tenses up and shoots Leo an annoyed glare before focusing on the lock again.

Despite Donnie's clear lack of interest, Leo continues talking. He places his hands on his twin's shoulders as if he's trying to share his vision. "Just imagine what will happen once we pull off this heist: the world at our fingertips!”. Donnie pulls his shoulders away as he bluntly asks, "How about we focus on getting far away from here before chasing dum dum dreams all half-cocked, willy-nilly, pell-mell?"

Leo gives Donnie a smirk as he teases "Sheesh, you’re such a buzzkill with all that business talk." Donnie grimaces, his hands freezing up ."I can't help it. This is our only way to get away from-" Leo cuts off his brother, his confident facade crumbling. "I know you're not going to talk about the person we talked about never talking about". Donnie lets out an annoyed scoff at his brother's paranoia, "You're acting as if saying her name will summon her from the depths of her web". Leo whips his head all over the place before grabbing him by the collar. "Stop! I can feel the Mud Dogs presence, waiting to stir-!" Donnie smacks his twin right in the face, much to the dismay of Leo. Leo gently touches his cheek, his mouth agape as Donnie goes back to the lock. "That was to smack some sense into you, and I will not hesitate to do it again". Donnie expects to hear Leo's complaining, but he sits down and leans against him instead. Donnie would usually push Leo off but he can tell he needs this right now. They both just sit in silence, giving Donnie the environment to work efficiently and Leo to think clearly. After another couple of tries, the lock pops right open. Donnie stands up, offering a helping hand to Leo. He tries giving Leo a reassuring smile, but it's more awkward than anything. Leo can appreciate the effort though, giving him a grateful smile. "Are you sure you're ready Nardo?" They've been both on edge for this heist. Once they crossed this line, there was no backing out now. Leo lets out a sigh, his nerves starting to get the better of him. He notices Donnie's expression, one of pure dread. One of them had to be strong here and he was not about to throw that burden on Donnie. Leo puts his hands on his hips, the wind blowing the tails of his bandana. "As ready as I'll ever be". Donnie looks at him deadpan, "Who do you think you are, Robin Hood?" Leo slouches at his brother's jab, so much for trying to show face. Donnie shakes his head, a sly smirk on his face. "Actually, no. That's insulting to Robin Hood". Leo gives him a half-assed glare before grumbling, "Just tie the damm rope around me".

Leo slowly descends into the castle, a line of guards in front of a glass box. Inside the box lies the Emperor's benkan(king’s crown), a metal frame resting on an openwork gilt-bronze base. From the edge of the frame hang forty-eight jeweled chains, twelve on each side. At the top of the crown, there is a sun-shaped ornament mounted on a square board. With a swift flick of his hand, he unsheathes one of his daggers. He creates a small portal on top of the box, quickly reaching his hand through it to grab the crown.

One of the guards sneezes and despite knowing better, Leo can't help himself. "Rat flu?" The guard turns around to see Leo smugly leaning against the pedestal with the crown in his hand. "Yeah". He turns back around before having a moment of realization. "Huh?" He turns around and sees Leo escaping through the roof with the help of Donnie. "Wait, what? Hey, wait!". All the guards look up in horror as they realize what has just happened. One of the guards sprints toward the exit and abruptly pulls down the emergency lever. The entire castle is bathed in a red hue, accompanied by blaring alarms.

The disaster twins are rushing down the bridge that leads to Prison Pines, a forest known for harboring criminals on the run. They feel the air brush past them as thunderous footsteps can be heard chasing them. Donnie feels around his utility belt before feeling his smoke grenade. He pulls the safety pin off with his teeth and throws it back without sparing a single glance. In mere seconds, a cloud of purple smoke envelopes the bridge. With a swift motion, Leo conjures a shimmering portal above and below the guards, ensnaring them in a disorienting loop of nausea. A few stragglers continue to pursue them without much difficulty, much to the disappointment of Donnie. 

Donnie clicks his tongue in annoyance as he pulls out a mini cylinder from its holster, "Dammit, that wasn't my Gardyloo Grenade". Leo can't help but laugh at Donnie's words, "What's that supposed to do? Splash dirty water on them?" Donnie rolls his eyes but is more than happy to indulge Leo's ignorance. "Har har but no. It's a powerful irritant and vesicant that can damage the eyes, skin, and respiratory tract. It can cause chemical burns, diarrhea, vomiting, blindness, forms intermediates that react with DNA leading to cell death, and so much more but I'll spare you the gruesome details." Leo's laughter immediately dies down as he just stares at Donnie exasperated, “I thought we agreed not to cause any harm-”

With a swift pivot on his heel, Donnie unleashed a flurry of darts from his staff, striking the guards' legs with pinpoint accuracy. One by one, they crumpled to the ground, their threat neutralized in an instant. The air crackled with tension as Donnie laughed maniacally. He quickly snaps out of it as he notices Leo's stare. "Stop staring at me like I'm crazy Lee". Leo awkwardly clears his throat and grins as he throws his arm around Donnie's shoulder. He never knew whether it was a blessing or curse that his brother was like this. "Oh, the things we've done and it's only eight in the morning. This is a very big day for us Dee!" ——— Mikey takes a deep breath as he puts away his paints, closing the fireplace curtains. He looks towards his new companion with an excited grin. "This is it. This is a very big day, friend!" She nods ecstatically at his words. "I'm finally going to do it. I'm going to ask him!"

Just right on time, his father calls from below, "Michelangelo, let down your hair!". Mikey covers his mouth to contain all the excitement that's threatening to burst him open, the hummingbird mimicking him. Despite not wanting the small bird to leave, his father wasn't a big fan of visitors. "You have to go now!" She looks up towards him with puppy eyes.

Mikey tries giving his friend a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, you can come back soon. Maybe the next time, you can bring some of your friends with you". With a reluctant nod and chirp, she makes her escape through the skylight.

Mikey hastily makes his way towards the window, throwing his hair on the hook. Once he was sure his father was all set, he pulled him up with ease. When he sees his dad on the ledge, he helps him down and pulls him into a tight embrace. “Hey Dad, welcome home!”. Draxum pats his head affectionately before pulling away. He grabs Mikey’s hand and inspects them for a few seconds. Mikey lets out a disappointed sigh, pulling his hands back. “Before you ask, I still haven’t tapped into my ninpo”.

Draxum nods, a look of understanding written all over my face. He’s been trying to help Mikey, but no matter what he does, his powers refuse to come out. He tries moving on to a different topic for Mikey’s sake, "I must say, my son, how you manage to do that every day is truly a feat of strength."

Mikey seems to brighten up at his father’s praise. Mikey flexes his muscles as a small smirk graces his face, "Psh, it's nothing" Draxum looks back towards him, a hint of amusement in his face. "Then maybe I should increase the intensity of your training" Mikey shakes his head at lightning speed, his eyes filled with terror "Now, I'm not so sure about that!" His father gently pulls Mikey in front of the mirror, Drax's hands on his shoulder as he stands behind him. "You know what I see, Mikey? I see a strong, resilient, determined boy who lets nothing stop him." Mikey can't help but smile at his father's confidence in him, a warm feeling bubbling in his chest. His father was right about everything as always except for one small thing. "Hm, you're close but I'm actually a young man, or at least tomorrow I will be!" He starts pulling his dad towards the fireplace, his nerves slowly getting the better of him. Draxum pretends to think for a quick moment before saying dryly, "Ah, of course, your birthday. How could I possibly forget?" Mikey starts climbing onto the fireplace counter, holding onto the curtains with a bright smile, "And ya know since I'm turning fifteen this year, I really want this for my birthday,". He draws the curtain back to reveal his dream: a flat green hill with a few abstract trees in front of it. A mini Mikey sits atop one of the trees, looking up towards the night sky. The night sky is painted in an ombré blue and littered with glowing lights. “Can you take me to see the floating lights?” An uncomfortable silence settles over the room, an unreadable expression on his father's face. Mikey thinks he's crossed the line but then his father calmly says, "Mikey, you know why we must stay in the tower." Mikey lets out a resigned sigh as he grumbles "Because there are people that want to use me as a weapon".

“And I’m the only one who can help you hone your powers for the greater good”. He lets out a groan as he throws his hands in the air, "But these appear on my birthday every year. And I can't help but feel that...they're for me. I just have to see them in person. I need to know what they are"

"But Mikey, you're not ready. Some way or another, something is bound to go wrong. I mean, are you sure you're ready to face ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand, cannibals..." The confidence he once had vanished. He's grown up reading or hearing cautionary tales from his father, but he's always tried to keep an open mind. That's easier said than done though.

He swiftly retracts into shell, causing his father to stop in the middle of his rant. Draxum pulls himself onto the ledge of the fireplace. He lets out a deep sigh as he pulls the shell closer to his side. “I’m just doing this for your own good”. Mikey slowly comes out of his shell, but pulls away from his dad's touch. He appreciates the concern and all but sometimes it’s overbearing. I mean, really, he can’t spend his whole life in this tower! 

“This new painting of yours is beautiful”. Mikey is pulled out of his thoughts as he hears his father, looking towards his painting. He looks up towards the skylight, “Not as beautiful as those floating lights though.” 

The older Mikey gets, the harder it was for Draxum to get him under control. He looks towards Mikey, his disappointment radiating right off him. He always was one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Despite knowing that this doesn't benefit his cause, he can’t handle seeing Mikey like this. He jumps off the ledge, quickly making his way towards his cloak. Before Mikey can ask where his dad is going, he proudly exclaims. "I know something that will make you forget all about all those puny laun....lights! Don't let any trouble in while I'm gone!" With a swift flick of his wrist, Draxum conjures a thick, emerald vine cascading from the window. He expertly descends outside, the vine twisting and curling around him. Mikey leans closer to the window, watching his father deftly uncoil the vines at the cave's entrance. With a firm tug, Draxum closes them behind him, sealing off the cavern from prying eyes. 

Mikey eyes narrow towards the mystic vines, resentment blooming in his chest before crushing it. He keeps telling himself this for his safety, but he can't help but wonder when his life will begin. It wouldn’t be so bad up here if he had someone, maybe like brothers or something.

———

The twins are trying to catch their breath after running for an eternity. As Leo leans against a tree, he notices a pair of wanted posters. His eyes widen in horror as he rips off one of the posters, his muttering slowly becoming more distressed. "No, no no. This is bad, this is very, very bad, This is really bad!" Donnie quickly looks up towards Leo, alarm overtaking all his senses. He roughly grabs Leo by the shoulders, staring him down intently. "What's really bad Leo?" "They just can't get my stupendous stripes just right! It completely ruins my face!" Leo shoves the poster right in Donnie's face. Donnie just looks at him deadpanned for a few seconds before asking dryly, "Who cares?". Leo lets out a huff of indigence as he grabs Donnie's poster, pointing towards his eyebrows. "Well, it's easy for you to say. They got your only good attribute right!" Donnie couldn't disagree with that, those artists did do him justice. It takes him a moment but Donnie gives Leo a half-assed glare as he catches the backhanded compliment, "Really Leo?". Leo just gives him a smug smirk as he shrugs.

As soon as they find a moment of peace, it's quickly disrupted. A small, orange hummingbird gets in between the two of them, glaring daggers at them. Leo and Donnie look at each other horrified, realizing that the hidden samurais are hot on their trail.

“Hey Piebald, what’s up besides you?” Leo tries giving her a charming smile but it just irritates her, poking Leo’s eye. Leo rushes to muffle his cry, not wanting to give out their location. Donnie gets in front of Leo with his hands up in surrender, “Let’s be civil about this Piebald! You don’t snitch on us and we uh…”. Donnie struggles to come up with a type of offer before Leo blurts out, “Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches”. Sometimes, scratch that, Donnie wishes all the time that Leo knew when to shut his big mouth up.

With that threat in mind, Piebald flies away and over the small cliff. Leo smiles cockily towards a flabbergasted Donnie, shoving the wanted posters in the satchel. “And this is why I’m the face man”

“Piebald attacked you Nardo” Leo waves his hand dismissively “Who hasn’t?”. Donnie lets out an annoyed sigh as he looks towards Leo unamused. He's about to make some snarky remark but approaching hoofs stops him in his tracks. Stopping at the edge of the cliff, the Shogun stares him down with Piebald perched on his shoulder. With a swift flick of his head, Raph guides his men down the cliff.

The two start running for their freedom, taking all different types of turns to throw the guards off their shell. It doesn’t really help though when you have the shogun’s hummingbird following you from above.

Raph really did jinx himself earlier but he refuses to let that crown out of his grasp. “Do not let that satchel out of your sight!”

A flurry of arrows sliced through the air, their deadly tips aimed at the thieves escaping just ahead. Donnie felt the searing pain shoot through his shoulder as an arrow grazed him, forcing a grunt from his lips. Leo’s heart raced, and he glanced at Raph, who winced at the sight of blood seeping into Donnie's sleeve. Panic surged within Leo as his mind whirled with frantic escape plans, each one darker and more dangerous than the last. But he didn't want to commit mass murder, who did? With time running out and danger closing in, Leo had an idea, a risky one, but the best plan so far. Once he hears another batch of arrows, he unsheathes both of his daggers to create a big portal. All the bows fly right in the vertex, time for the questionable part. Leo stops right in his tracks with his hands up. "Let's negotiate!". Raph yanks his horse's rein, not wanting to trample Primetime so brutally. Donnie didn't even realize what his brother was doing until he heard the horses halting to a stop. He looks horrified as he sees Leo right in front of them, almost tripping himself over. What does this idiot think he's doing?

Leo takes a deep breath, time to put on a show. Leo raises the satchel, which Piebald tries taking away. “We both want the crown but we have to ask ourselves,” Piebald aggressively pecks at his hand, a yelp interrupting him. He shoos the pesky bird away, narrowing his eyes at her as she lands on Raph’s shoulder. “As I was saying before your spawn of hell attacked me, what are we willing to risk here for it?”. Primetime's suggestion for a negotiation actually sounded promising. This was his chance to discover Big Mama's whereabouts and finally capture her. After all, the twins were her right-hand men, so they were bound to know something. Raph reaches for his sais, his expression skeptical. "Get on with it Primetime".

Clicking his tongue in irritation, Leo signs. No one ever lets him have fun. "Since you insist I cut to the chase," he says with feigned annoyance, "you let us go with the crown and I won't send your arrows back to you"

Please let his bluffing work he prays silently.

"And if that's not convincing enough," Leo continues, his grin widening, "Purple Knight over here has been itching to try out his more lethal inventions like the...Grim Reaper"

Donnie interjects immediately, offended as ever, "Do you mean the Gardyloo Grenade?" Leo lets out a small huff, "My beloved brother, I love you but that name is atrocious" Donnie rolls his eyes as he fires back, "Not as atrocious as your outfit". Leo whips his head faster than lightning, his mouth agape.

Without a word, Raph dismounts his horse. His men watch in confusion, exchanging uncertain glances. Raph speaks with quiet authority, his tone steady. “Retreat. I don’t want any of you getting caught in the crossfire if this negotiation goes south.”

Reluctantly, his men nod and ride away on their horses. Raph tries giving Piebald a stern look to fly away, but she gives him a defiant chirp. She may be small but has the courage of a lion. Raph clears his throat obnoxiously loud, grabbing the attention of the brothers. "Raph is willing to negotiate," Leo nudges a very annoyed Donnie with a stupid grin on his face "but we do this fairly". Leo's cocky expression falls at this new revelation, "Eugh boy-"

"Seems easy enough," Donnie side-eyes Leo as he sneers, "for most people". Leo crosses his arms, "Don't act as if you're any more honest than me". "Maybe not but as a man of science, I am more inclined to try new things". Leo quirks an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Does that include welcoming mystic powers with open arms?". Donnie lets out a huff of amusement before saying dryly, "Don't joke like that". "So, let's get one thing straight, I can't let you leave with the crown," Leo puts his arms up in surrender and tries walking away but Donnie yanks him by the collar. "but I can find some way to lighten your sentence".

Donnie looks hesitant at the offer but Leo doesn’t seem swayed in any way. Leo shakes his head, a tense smile on his face. “Thanks but that won’t be necessary. We can't stay here for much longer”.

So that’s their motivation, to flee the kingdom. That raises the question though, what are they trying to escape from? 

“If you don’t mind Raph prying, what are the two of you trying to escape from?” Leo mutters as he looks to the side, “More like who”.

Raph gestures for him to continue, but leo refuses to answer. Donnie is more than willing to answer however. "We're trying to get away from...Big Mama." Leo glares at Donnie, shocked that he revealed that to the man trying to arrest them. Raph furrows his eyebrows at the revelation. "But you're her right hand—" Donnie cuts him off abruptly. "We were her right-hand men. We've..." Donnie struggles to find the right words, but his brother covers it: "fallen out of her grace recently. " Alright, he thought to himself, he can work with this. But should he really be teaming up with Primetime and Purple Knight, though? For years, they've been a thorn in his side, always playing their games, only thinking of themselves. They're everything he stands against. But now? Now, they might be his only way to get to her. To stop her. For the kingdom’s safety. For its survival. For his brothers.

He’d play along for now. He just had to make sure he stayed one step ahead of their tricks. All of a sudden, Piebald tweets in alarm. She tries grabbing Raph's attention but he's ignoring her for the time-being.

"That crown will only help you escape, not solve your issues. You're only making yourself an enemy of the kingdom now. If you help me arrest her though, you’ll be killing two birds with one stone". Piebald lets out an offended chirp at his words

Leo laughs, but it's hollow and tinged with exhaustion. Does the shogun think he beat him at his own game? "How do we know you won't just take what you need and hang us out to dry? You could be just like her for all we know" He points an accusing finger, his eyes turning into slits.

Raph expected this kind of pushback from Primetme but damm, if it made things a lot harder. Leo and Raph go back and forth, struggling to find some common ground. Piebald continues to chirp helplessly, trying to point towards something in the shadow. Admist the chaos, Donnie takes a moment to reevaluate their original plan. The more he mulls over it, the more flaws he unfortunately sees. “I hate to be the voice of reason here, but this might be our best option”.

The arguing stops between the two, looking towards him with surprise. Raph didn’t expect Purple Knight to vouch for him while Leo can’t believe his own brother is going against him.“Give us a moment to discuss this please”. Leo wraps an arm around Donnie’s neck, pulling their backs away from Raph as they whisper to each other.

Donnie lets out a deep sigh, “I know you’re the man with the plan—”

“Then why are you doubting me?” He asked incredulously. Leo frowns towards Donnie, a subtle hint of hurt in his expression. "I'm not doubting you but I'm doubting the plan. It's-". Leo cuts him, patting his chest repeatedly "Then trust me when I say that the plan will work!” “And that’s what I’m so concerned about!” Now that grabbed Leo’s attention, furrowing his eyebrows. Donnie rubs his forehead, a tired sigh leaving his lips, “This crown won’t solve anything. We’ve barely managed to escape Big Mama, so what makes you think we can evade an entire kingdom?”

Leo flinches at the truth of his words, he didn’t want to believe it. Running away was meant to make things easier not harder. Leo only wanted to protect Donnie. What if Donnie was making a mistake placing his trust in the Shogun. They look back towards Raph, the sunlight scattering all over him. Donnie desperately hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

Raph slowly steps towards them, trying to seem friendly. “I know you have no reason trust me,” Raph offers a hand towards them, “But this is your opportunity to do something right for once”.

Leo lets out an amused huff, they were thieves for crying out loud. That was such a bad line, though, he wouldn't be against the approval that would come with it. While Donnie wasn't really brought by that cheesy line, but he was somewhat certain that this was right for them. Donnie looked towards Leo, who shook his head in refusal. The hypocrisy of Leo asking Donnie to trust him when he couldn't even trust him in this situation frustrated Dee.

Suddenly, Piebald lets out this ear-splitting screech, catching them all off-guard. Raph was unsure what had her so worked up until she pointed her wings toward the trees, revealing a pair of eyes watching them. The figure raised something shiny—a blade. Without warning, Raph tackled the brothers to the ground just as a switchblade flew overhead, embedding itself in a tree. Uh oh, the Mud Dogs found them.

They spring to their feet, adrenaline coursing through their veins as they grasp for their weapons. In a seamless movement, the trio arrange themselves into a tight, defensive circle, scanning for any danger. A dismembered voice speaks from the trees, their voice condescending. “Just give us the satchel and we won’t hurt you…much”.

A green hand wearing fingerless gloves reaches for the comb, the figure stepping out from the shadows, Loathsome Leonard. He rushes towards Leo’s throat with frightening speed, catching him off-guard. Leo counters the attack with both of his daggers, pushing the guy right off him. Before the orge can strike again, Raph intervenes right in time. He uppercuts him right in the stomach and then right-crossing him in the face, sending him right to the floor.

He falls to his knees, his breathing ragged. Blood trickles down his face, touching his face gingerly before fainting. Raph looks down at his bloody fist, visibly cringing at the sight. He crouches down to handcuff him, a confused look on his face. “I swear I just arrested Loathsome Leonard and his gang a few days ago”.

Donnie lets out a small, nervous laugh as he asks, “Wait a minute, where's the rest of the gang?”.

With a sudden burst of movement, Malicious Mickey springs from the trees, his slimy tail wrapping around Donnie. Just as the eel prepares to unleash a surge of electricity, Donnie swiftly retracts his bo-staff, sending Mickey crashing to the ground. Gagging in disgust, Donnie frantically tries to wipe the muck off his skin, but Mickey comes right back for him. They wrestle around on the ground, struggling to get the upper hand. “OH, WHY DID I HAVE TO GET STUCK WITH THAT DISGUSTING THING?!”

Leo couldn't help but burst into laughter at his brother's dramatic outburst, the sound bubbling up from deep within him. But his amusement faded as he felt a tug on the satchel. “You need to learn a thing or two from me, you’re still a horrible thief Danny”.

He swiftly does a spin kick on Dastardly Danny, causing him to fall. Just as he‘s about to roundhouse kick him in the face, Danny catches his leg mid-air, plunging his claws into his leg with a sadistic smile. Leo lets out a hiss of pain as he tries to pull back. Danny with great pleasure flings him into a tree, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs.

Raph rushes to help them out but hears rapid footsteps approaching him. Heinous Green savagely uppercuts him in the jaw, the taste of blood flooding his senses. Heinous Green straddles over Raph, beating him senselessly. He falls straight on his back, struggling to fight back. Piebald tries pecking at Henious’ face but he flicks her away, her small cry being heard.

Something snaps in Raph at the unsacred sound.

As Heinous goes for another lethal blow, Raph’s mystic-red fist blocks it. Using all the strength he can muster, he delivers a devastating hit on Henious Green's face, making him stumble backward. Raph rises to his feet, his breathing heavy and labored. Henious Green goes straight for Raph, bracing himself for a rough fight. Unexpectedly, Donnie's bo-staff wraps up Henious's legs in bolas. Raph's grateful for the save, but little did he know that it was a complete accident. Mickey is trying to wrest Donnie's staff out of his hands, pressing all types of buttons. Donnie is struggling to pull his staff back when he notices that Mickey is having difficulty standing his ground due to his mucus, an idea popping into his head. With a calculated thrust, he lets go of his staff, sending Mikey sliding into a tree. Donnie walks over to knock down Mickey, he grabs his staff with a smirk, "Physics, my slimy friend, was not on your side". Meanwhile, Leo is having a harder time subduing his opponent. Leo smirks through the pain, twirling his daggers with a flair that conceals his vulnerability. Danny lunges, claws outstretched, but Leo ducks under his swipe, delivering a sharp elbow to Danny's ribs. Danny counters with a hard blow to his shell, knocking him down to the ground. Leo, seeing an opportunity at this level, slashes at Danny's leg, payback for earlier. "Yikes, Danny, imagine having the upperhand and still losing!". Leo taunts, his voice dripping with mockery. Danny glares at Leo, nursing his leg. "At least I wasn't dumb enough to go behind Big Mama's back”. Leo bristles at his insult, rubbing salt in the freshly open wound. Before Leo can do something he will regret, Raph's shoulder shoves Danny into a pile of bushes. Leo can't stand on his leg for much longer, stumbling onto one knee.

Raph tries offering a helping hand to Primetime but he swats it away, his disdain and distrust of him clear as day. "I don't need your help". Despite the pain in his leg, he tries pushing himself up. After a few futile attempts, Raph effortlessly throws him over his shoulder. Leo tries squirming his way out of it but Raph is having none of it. “Before you say anything, I don’t care”. Leo crosses his arms as he realizes he's not going anywhere, grumbling a half-assed thank you.

Donnie rushes over to the two of them, checking over Leo's injuries. "No, no, no, no! I can fix this!"Before he can attend to any of the wounds, Leo points out in a panic, "Hey guys, we gotta go!". The Mud Dogs group back together, a dangerous aura about them. The two sides stare at each other, a deafening silence falling over them. Leo eventually breaks the silence with a nervous grin, "What if we give the shogun in exchange for our lives?" Raph looks absoulutely offend at the offer of his life, while Donnie seems to contemplate it for a short second before coming to his senses, "They only thing they want is the satchel, not the shogun".

Leo sighs in disappointment, nodding slowly. "If that's the case, try not to quiver!" Like lightning, Leo opens the portal with all the arrows in it. The Mud Dogs scatter to avoid the barrage, letting the trio make a run for it. Raph and Donnie exchanged looks of utter cringe at the words that unfortunately came out of Leo. "Just for that one-liner, Raph should have left your sorry ass behind". Donnie nods in agreement, fist-bumping Raph, "I second that motion". Leo blows a raspberry, a small smirk on his face. "I'm sorry, I can't hear your hate over my...IS THAT A CLIFF?!"

A chill of dread washes over the group as they realize the dead end looming ahead, too close for comfort. Donnie's eyes widen in terror as he loses his footing, his scream slicing through the air like a knife. In a heart-stopping moment, Raph lunges forward, his hand grabbing Donnie just inches from the cliff's edge. The world seems to hold its breath as Raph hauls him back, heart pounding, the gravity of the near-miss hanging heavy in the air. Footsteps thundered closer, echoing through the dimly lit forest. Panic surged as they avoided glancing back, desperately searching for an escape. Suddenly, Raph looks over the cliff's edge ahead and a daring idea sparked in his mind. He scooped up Donnie with one arm and pulled Leo close with the other. "What are you doing? I hate togethness!".

Raph, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them, takes a daring leap of faith. As they plunge through the air, the cacophony of their screams intertwines with the rush of the wind, creating a wild symphony of fear. "With my dying breath, I knew we shouldn't have trusted you!"

They cling to each other tightly, their hearts racing. Raph channels his energy and forms a glowing exoskeleton around himself, a protective barrier against the dizzying plunge. He turns his back to the ground, ready to face the brunt of the fall.

[yuseirra]

The manga is complete, right? And it STILL bothers and makes me wrap my head because I really don't get...why some things are written the way it is. Rereading the volumes, I just-

Did Kamiki really actively try to get back at Ai? Is he really the one that should have been the target for Aqua's revenge??? Why is that left unclear???

Doesn’t seem like it, right??? I don’t think he even had the slightest intention to do so.

Why is this manga so ambiguous? Why did they write him like this if it is???

I majored in psychology, you know?

Even setting aside mythology (and honestly, this manga can't even be explained without it), when you analyze that character's behavior, there's just so much that isn't normal. It seems like he genuinely loved Ai, and personality-wise... he didn’t seem like the type to hurt anyone in the first place. Even if he did harm someone, he doesn’t seem like the kind of coward who’d aim his anger at Ai.

What he testified must be the truth?? He sent her flowers to congratulate her performance, but then something happened that led to her death because of it, and it seems like that completely broke him.

If he really were the kind of person who’d intentionally harm Ai, then the way the story portrays him would need to be entirely different. This bothers me so much.

He doesn’t seem to have held any ill will toward Ai. He’s just so self-deprecating and powerless. I say this again and again, he lacks anger. Sure, it’s not impossible for someone to lose their strength after harming someone, but then why does he have flashbacks of smiling so brightly with Ai, or memories of her that he says he can’t bear to let fade? That’s not hatred—it’s affection. It’s longing. If he’d been the one to harm her, his memories would’ve gone through a rationalization process. They wouldn’t have remained so tender and vibrant.

He said Ai understood him, accepted him, and loved him. He said he only felt alive when he was with her. That’s the kind of response someone has when they lose someone they genuinely loved.

If he hated her for leaving him and wanted to drive her to despair, his reactions and their relationship wouldn’t make sense. Both Ai and Kamiki seem to have genuinely cared for one another, and the things they’ve said could only come from people who were happy together.

There’s no real sense of hostility between them. Even during their phone conversation, Ai didn’t seem uncomfortable talking to her ex. She even suggested he come over to the house where her two children were. Sure, it might’ve been difficult to meet outside, but still…

Isn’t it because Kamiki respected Ai’s wishes to stay apart that she felt comfortable reaching out to him without much burden? Ai must’ve thought he was someone trustworthy.

People’s personalities don’t change so drastically overnight. Up until that point, he seemed perfectly fine. From the way they talked, it seemed like they had a really good relationship when they were together. It’s not easy to say you want to be with someone forever, but both of them said things like that about each other, and the way they reminisce about each other is so bright and beautiful.

Honestly, as soon as I read Chapter 154, I thought, “He’s lying. There’s no way he even thought of scaring Ai.” But it’s true that things around this character have become seriously twisted.

And then, when I saw that the goddess of entertainment’s husband is a god who guides people’s futures in the right direction—a god of light—it all started making sense. That fits perfectly, doesn’t it? The goddess of entertainment was already mentioned in the story! Why didn’t they explain this?!

In the manga, the other characters all treat Kamiki as some kind of monster or trash who needs to be punished, saying he’s the one who killed Ai, etc.

So, I thought, “Oh, is that so?” but…

If that’s the case, the story shouldn’t have been written this way.

So I became REALLY intent on what this character behaved like the moment we had Ai had her say on him and

I kept noticing things. As soon as I heard “Fatal” I thought, “This is Kamiki’s song.” And at the end, it was confirmed—yes, it is. It’s about how he thought it was his destiny to do whatever he's done, wanted to feel Ai, wanted to offer something to her… but fell into darkness. He went mad because he missed Ai so much. He totally fell apart like the speaker of that song.

If that’s true, then “Mephisto” is Kamiki’s song too. The two songs are essentially saying the same thing, aren’t they? Wishing to reunite with the dead!! Missing them to the state of letting yourself go!

If those songs represent his character, then there’s no way he orchestrated Ai’s death. I'm speaking this from a psychological standpoint. Songs like these wouldn’t exist otherwise.

Songs like this, with these emotional nuances, are incredibly difficult to associate with someone who harmed the person they’re talking about in such a way.

If he truly did harm Ai, there would have to be more context. But what I feel is that, twisted as he may have become, he likely only fell apart after Ai’s death. I don’t think he lied about only wanting to send her flowers.

Because why else would he be destroying himself, pouring his entire life into feeling Ai’s presence again? At this point, there’s no reason for him to lie about not intending to hurt her. He’s already consumed by guilt. His mental state is terrible. He’s desperate and losing control.

So what exactly is Aqua’s revenge about? What is Aqua even trying to avenge? That’s why it’s no longer about revenge—it’s about protecting Ruby. Aqua says so himself: the justification for going after Kamiki has shifted to something else entirely. The story suddenly became about Ruby’s future, and that’s likely because Ruby is Amaterasu, while Kamiki is Sarutahiko. He’s the god destined to guide others after Amaterasu took over his place with the persuasion of his wife, who's said to have met his end by drowning!!

I feel this story was handled so ambiguously because revealing this properly would undermine everything Aqua has done so far. If this guy's really that responsible about causing Ai's death, why did this piece just keep beating around the bush???? Why don't they show us what's actually happened???? I couldn't support Aqua wholeheartedly because of this!! What if he really didn't want to harm anyone?? Low possibility, I know, but the fact that there still remains a chance for that being actually true really bothers me because if that's real, then wouldn't Aqua have just killed an innocent guy? Yeah he CAN'T be innocent at this point but this is a story, right? I'm curious about what actually happened to Ai if anything!! She's so important and we don't know??

The portrayal is so strange. Even if the character is supposed to be an actor and I’m being fooled, why are the songs and the portrayal like this?

I can’t help but notice these things—it’s frustrating and gives me a headache. Can’t they just confront the truth head-on?

I get really anxious and scared I get it wrong but they shouldn't have written him this way!! If there's a single thing that's even consistent about Kamiki, it's his feelings towards Ai, that can't be a lie, that seems like the ONLY true thing about him that's been confirmed because that's his own thoughts that cannot be tampered, but if that's true, I don't see him being the one that'd have ever attempted to lay even a finger on Ai!! That aligns with what he's said himself but all the other characters are so sure he's done it and I find that so hard to comprehend!!

What was the author's intent on creating this guy?? Ai loves him right? And he loves her back too? So what the heck are they trying to do with making the characters who apparently seems to have truly cared for each other be accused of one having caused another's murder? And when this is about an idol that's been killed by a stalker, it gets even messier, what are they trying to express with this?? The only way this makes sense for me is that theory I have about the gods and it works perfectly that way, both thematically and in terms of psychology, I really don't see it making any sense otherwise! Is this going to be left forever unexplained??? Well like, I always prepare myself to take all my hikaai drawings down if that guy is trash enough to have tried to kill the one girl who's shared him love and raised his kids but, his behavior is so far from being such a man. It doesn't make sense. So I was pretty sure about my interpretations and kept going but WHAT IS THIS MANGA? Yeah. Is there ANY way to explain this story in a way that it all comes together besides that idea about them having been the gods of the entertainment industry!! I don't think so!

If they wanted him be the culprit for what's happened to Ai, and have Aqua's anger directed to him, then the authors did a BAD job. Not just bad, I'm not convinced. But I didn't feel this way until the guy actually made an appearance, they wrote him like this at the end of the story??? Which means the authors believe this is the way he should be?? So what was Aqua's revenge even for huh??? Was what he did really rightful?? I get the guy became a threat anyway but? It was about avenging Ai all along, but that's thrown out the window near the end isn't it?? Then what's been sustaining Aqua's logic throughout the plot is actually quite flawed??

He didn't do it, I don't think Kamiki deserved to be avenged for Ai's case at least. If he did, then he's not written well.

Or is there something I don't know?? In that case, they should explain everything they should have explained within their own piece because it isn't present in it??

I'm half relieved and half really confused why this isn't clear even after the finale tbh, is this going to be handled in the extra pages in the final volume or what;; but this manga's made me so nervous about this for months. I will not have to do with it regardless what they add about it anymore...be so worried about this. They should have confirmed this before they went. They didn't do it.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hi I'm new to Tumblr and came across your blog. I have an ask for a fic, if you don't mind. I am reading the main story from the original Obey Me on the nightbringer game, and I'm almost at the end (chapter 72).

Thanks to no spoiler warning on a post, I am aware of Simeon's situation. I can't help but feel MC isn't as concerned as they should be for him. Fair enough, they are respectful of his boundaries, saying he would talk when he's ready, but would it be possible to write a little something about MC (preferably female, but not necessary) offering Simeon support and comfort, or even just a fun day with him to take his mind off things.

Hiii I can understand where you are coming from. I also felt like MC didn't cut much slack about how Simeon felt during the time while I was worried about him too. So there you go! (I kind of lost myself in my writing so it's quite long. I hope it's not a problem)

Post contains: fluff; emotional fallout (angst); might contain spoilers up to lesson 72 OM

Fem!MC

Simeon x reader

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

Simeon's troubles

You were sitting in your room thinking about what you should write in the requested report from Diavolo. You had just gone through the surveys of one part of the student body about their opinions about the exchange program that Mephistopheles provided you with.

There were pretty positive ones saying that they made friends with some of the exchange students and they liked the atmosphere of having angels, demons and humans in one place. But there were also negative ones saying that the exchange program is bullshit and there should've never been something like this in the academy. You were tired of constantly reading different surveys with different handwritings as well the poor grammar some of the students had. You were completely exhausted. Walking over to the bed and laying on it you dragged your hands over your face. Suddenly you are reminded of Simeon. At first you smile at the thought of the magnificent angel and the friendship both of you share but then you remembered something. You remember how Simeon has been really secretive lately. He's been looking anxious and uneasy most of the time. He is distracted and upset, sometimes he's even lost in thought that you can barely get him to speak to you. You are worried. Is everything okay? You are sure of the fact that something is bothering him though respect his privacy and boundaries. Even when he tells you that everything will be okay you can't help but worry over the angel. The last time you and Mammon visited Purgatory hall to get Simeon to speak the only thing he mentioned is that he is no longer worthy of using the angel's blessing. What is that supposed to mean? How could he be not worthy? He is Simeon. A highly ranked seraph in the Celestial Realm loved and respected by many. What could have possibly happened? You think about it for a long few minutes before you decide to text the angel.

-"Hello, Simeon! How are you?" –You send the message and wait for his response though you don't have to wait too long since you get an almost immediate response.

-"Hello, MC! And yes. I'm fine. Is there something you need?" –You stare at the message for a few seconds thinking how to phrase it without making him worry further more. Suddenly an idea comes to mind.

-"Actually I found out that tomorrow there is a flower festival coming into town and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me?" –It's true. You heard from Diavolo a few days ago that a big flower festival is coming into town for a day. The demon also mentioned that it would be nice for a future representative of the student council to attend so you had a great reasoning.

-"Tomorrow? Yes I suppose I'm free. I would like to go with you, MC." –You smile at the message, knowing that you will finally get to spend some time with the troubled angel. Hopefully you will help him feel less uneasy after a day of full happy memories.

-"Great! Then it's settled. I will come by Purgatory hall tomorrow to get you, see you, Simeon! Sleep tight!" –You respond and get ready for bed.

The next morning after getting ready for the day you find yourself waiting in front of Purgatory hall, impatient to see the affectionate angel. After a while he finally shows up at the entrance wearing the same outfit that he wore in the human world instead of his angel attire though you don't give it much thought since Simeon himself mentioned that he liked the outfit. You extended your arms happily, willing to give Simeon a warm hug. His face still carries that uneasy look, which tugs painfully at your heart. Yet, when he sees your open arms, a soft smile slowly spreads across his features, accepting your silent invitation for a hug. He walks into your embrace and gently wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You embrace him tightly. You were sure of the fact that Simeon needed a hug. Everybody does at hard moments such as those. You might not be sure of what he is going through but you can feel it through the warm embrace. You two remain like that: Standing silently into each other's arms. Speaking through actions.

-I needed this... –You hear the soft voice of the broken angel, whispering into your ear as his arms tighten around your body.

-Thank you, MC. –He mutters once again before pulling away.

-Shall we go? –You offer Simeon your hand and he takes it with a gentle smile on his face. You lead the way to the festival and when you get there you are left speechless. It is beautiful. There are all sorts of flowers around. Gentle lights hoovering over the place, offering comfort. A faint sound of relaxing music and the noise from waters hitting the basin of the nearby fountain fill your ears. There is a refreshing floral scent all around the place. And all the demons around seem happy and relaxed. You squeeze Simeon's hand and lean your head on his shoulder gently.

-What do you think? –You question with a soft voice.

-It's beautiful here. In every aspect. In a way it even reminds me of the Celestial Realm. There would always be pretty flowers all around the place. It was... Calm and relaxing. –He responds and lets go of your hand to wrap it around your waist instead. He pulls you close against him and you smile. Though.. what did he mean by "was"? He can always go there? He is an angel after all... You figured he might miss home and the flower festival seemed like an amazing opportunity to give him something similar to the comfort of home. You could understand the feeling. You felt the same in your first days here in the Devildom. Surrounded by completely new people, new atmosphere, new place. All alone, forced to trust strangers who turned out to be demons on top of everything. But Luke was always there for Simeon. As well as you. You had always been friendly towards him. And always been there for him as well.

He led you into the festival. As you walked around you felt Simeon relax a little which speaks that your plan is successful.

-Usually at festivals like these in the human world we make bracelets or crowns of flowers. Do you want to make some? –You mention that to Simeon, thinking it would be a great way for him to get his head away from things.

-I would love to, MC. Though you might have to teach me. I'm not as good with those things. –With that you and Simeon walk over to the fountain and sit on the edge. You had gathered some beautiful flowers on the way there and were ready to craft some pretty pieces. You grab a few flowers and show Simeon a simple pattern to braid the flowers. He on the other side tries to copy your pattern. He successfully does though it isn't identical, which of course isn't important.

-MC... I would like to braid you a flower tiara. It would look beautiful in your hair. –Simeon says softly.

-Thank you, Simeon! –You exclaim in excitement. And he begins to braid. The angel is focused on the flowers in his hands which makes him look especially handsome. You smile and carefully wrap your arms around his waist to which he relaxes into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder you whisper softly:

-Simeon? How has life been treating you lately. You seem tense.

-I have some problems, MC. As I have mentioned before. And as much as I would love to get it off my shoulders and tell you what's bothering me I'm not sure if I feel comfortable yet. –Silence follows and he sighs before continuing to speak– I'm still questioning some things and I wouldn't like to give you false information. –When you hear that you tighten your arms around his waist and speak softly.

-Simeon, I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Whatever happens, whatever is happening. I respect the fact that you may not be ready to tell me yet and I'm not forcing you to do so. I will happily wait and be there for you until you feel comfortable. –You state making sure not to say something harsh or make him feel even more uneasy than he already is.

-Thank you, MC. I really appreciate it. And I promise. Whenever the moment comes I will explain everything.

-Simeon it would make it nice for you to know that I'm not forcing you to speak. I will be here whenever you feel comfortable. –You move your arms away from his waist and proceed to gently massage his shoulders.

-God, Simeon! You are so tense it's unbelievable! Let me ease off some stress off of those stiff shoulders. –He groans in pleasure as you hit a nerve somewhere in his neck.

-Oh MC.. ngh... I never knew how much I needed that.... Thank you..

After a few minutes of you massaging his shoulders and neck the angel mentions that the tiara is finished. Simeon turned towards you and put the tiara into your hair.

-MC... You are more beautiful than any flower at this festival.. and the tiara makes you shine even brighter than you already do. –You blush softly to his statement and he cups your cheeks with his hands.

-You are always so understanding and gentle with me, MC. Never have I thought that I would ever meet a girl like you. Such a soft and caring creature. And on top of everything she is also a human. A human.. a creature I never thought that I'd fall in love with. But... Here I am, MC. –You look at him with pure happiness and sincere love in your expression. He chuckles softly and leans in to kiss your nose.

-You look adorable when you blush, MC. Has somebody ever told you that? –The color in your cheeks deepens and you roll your eyes.

-Simeooonnn! You are flattering me too much! As if you aren't the most amazing and affectionate angel that I know.. –You say softly and kiss his cheek.

-You are also sweet and caring. And whatever it is you are going through will not stop you from being my perfect angel. Always.. I assure you. –You whisper and lean in to gently brush your lips against his. It is a gentle kiss. There is no force. No tension. Just pure shared love and affection between two individuals. Just like it has always been between you two. It was easy to love and care for him. He has always been there for you in hard moments. And now it's your turn to show how much you actually care and worry about him. How much you actually love him. How much he means to you. Whatever it is that is happening you know that both of you will get through it. That it will always lead to a happy ending. Hardships and happiness walk hand in hand after all. Every hard moment is followed by a happy one. So you know that Simeon will be okay. And you genuinely hope that he will be okay. As a sorcerer you can always ensure his safety even if he can't do it himself. He is your everything. His feelings mean a lot to you. And you are genuinely worried about him.

-I love you, Simeon. You mean so much to me. You and your feelings. Remember that. –You whisper against his lips and pull away to embrace him instead. He relaxes into your arms and smiles warmly.

-Thank you, MC. I love you too. Just as much.. –He murmurs and kisses your temple. As the day continues you and Simeon make a lot of happy memories and you know that he feels at ease around you. You're sure that you helped Simeon forget about his troubles even if it is just for a day. The fact makes you happy and heals the deep concern about the troubled angel.

[jakesbeloved]

Reasons for waiting𓇢𓆸 | Chapter 1 |

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Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, implied sex but not actual smut

Word count: 7k+

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Brushing through your locks with your flower decorated hair brush, you dared to steal a glance through your bedrooms window. It overlooked your beautiful garden, full of the most beautiful roses and the most vibrant tulips. There were all kinds of flowers, but those definitely stood out the most. You wrapped your violet night gown around yourself, peeking your head out the window in order to get a better look at the garden; it wasn't the flowers you were searching for.

Your lovely guard was nowhere to be seen, his figure that was often turnt to your window is out of sight now. Your heart sank a little, a minute of his absence felt like an eternity of loneliness.

"Hmm, where could he be?.." You whispered to yourself in wonder, your bare feet dancing around your soft bed before you plopped down on it, the smell of him still lingering on your silken sheets. You breathed it in softly, the familiar, comforting scent filling your lungs in a warm embrace.

Deep in wonder, you started dozing off, your body still bare of your red comforter.

Lost in thoughts, ascending to the dream created spaces above, you flinched at a sound. You thought you imagined it but then you heard it once again.

A soft knock on the door sounded throughout your bedroom, the castle so empty at this late hour that even the sound of a fly would echo through the long halls. You rubbed your eyes, willing your body to get up from the bed.

"Who is it?" You called out, wrapping your gown even tighter around your form to look a little more appropriate in case it was someone you weren't too familiar with.

You were met with nothing but silence, the lack of response confusing you further more. Surely you haven't imagined it?

Deciding to test your luck, you took a few quiet steps to the door, pressing your ear up against it. Again, you heard nothing short of silence.

An irritated frown painted your face now, your brows furrowing in annoyance. "Is someone pulling jokes on me?" you creaked the door open just a bit, but before you could question anything else, the door was pushed wide open, making you stumble a step or two.

"What in the world-" you looked up, only to be met with a familiar armour and an even more familiar smirk. "Jake!" you whispered yelled before practically jumping in his arms, not caring one bit about the hard metal of his guard armour pressing against your body.

You pulled away from him for a split second in order to quietly shut and lock the door behind you, ensuring that nobody will hear the two of you. Your lovely guard could not keep you from his arms for too long, for he hasn't seen you all day, so before you knew it, two strong hands were firmly yet gently pulling you back, your spine softly colliding against a steel covered chest.

Although the metal of his armour suit was cold, somehow his warmth managed to seep and spread through the material, enveloping you in a calming embrace. You let out a sigh of relief, welcoming in the familiar feeling of protection and safeness in his arms as he held you, almost like he'd never let you go.

"You fool..." You scolded, without a hint of anger in your voice though. "You could've gotten us caught... Sneaking off like that. Did my father let you off duty today, hm?" You threw him a glance over your shoulder, his tree colored irises meeting your gaze.

"My love..." He bowed his head a bit, his nose trailing a path up your neck, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin and spreading shivers all over your body. He breathed in - for he found comfort in your scent as well as you found it in his.

"You can't blame a mere mortal man for missing his darling now, can you? Besides..." He moved your hair out the way, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of your neck. "I know my darling has missed me too."

You breath hitched at his tone, a fire already burning in the pit of your stomach.

"And to answer your question, yes and no... I wasn't guarding the castle, but your father has sent me to look out in case any men from 'Over the Mountains' were sent from the court. A word has been going around that they're trying to ally with us."

You hummed in response, processing his words.

'Over the Mountains', also knowns as 'Valoria's' (your kingdom) rival court. The two kingdoms have been rivaling against each other even when your ancestors were still present... Funny how a man can get so upset over a piece of land.

Eventually the war and the loss of men has subsided, but the hatred and tension still remained. Your people didn't mix well with their people, and when there was a need for help or support - whether your court or the other one needed it - it was very hard to get.

You, however, had no say in it whatsoever. And honestly?.. You didn't mind it one bit. You were more than happy to stay in the shadows, indulged in a book or helping out the hard working people at your castle. You've always thought that they don't get enough appreciation.

But your favorite thing, what you really loved doing the most? Being with your lover.

You two would often sneak off, either into the secluded depths of your garden where you know you're safe from wandering eyes, or - when you're feeling risky - you'd find yourself pulling him in your own bedroom. Pretty much like tonight.

This was a game you two often played - loving, lustful whispers and secret brushes and touches of his hands just had to do when you were surrounded by people.

It was unfortunate, it really was, that you had to keep your love a secret. There were many times when you just wanted to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him for everyone to see, for everyone to know that you were his and he was yours.

But you couldn't, for your parents trusted him way too much. He couldn't betray their trust... Lord knows how he'd be punished.

Despite your misfortune, you knew that he was worth it. There was no one in the world like him, no one that could set fireworks in your heart like he did. He was not only your guardian, but also your guide, for he encouraged you to get to know your body and soul on a more intimate level. It's ironic really, since he learnt the way you work even better than you in the end.

He always knew where to touch, to kiss and to lick, and you'd often entertained the fact that you'd let him take you again, again and again if you could. And you truly, truly would.

He not only guarded you with all his power and strength, but he always made sure you were taken care of. He'd have you climax, over and over again, before even thinking about his own pleasure. He was so selfless, so thoughtful, that you'd often find yourself sinking to your knees, showing him just how grateful you are. He had shown you that sex goes beyond the purpose of bearing children, shown you what it means to feel pleasure, that meeting of two people so intimately could be beautiful. In all honesty, he was truly one of a kind.

To him, yes - you were a princess - but only of his heart. And to you, he was not your castle guard, but the guard of your heart.

From time to time in the past, your parents would bring a royal family over, and they'd often happen to magically have a son or two. It all felt rather forced, for your parents weren't much of romantics; they only saw them for how wealthy they were.

Still, with an open heart and open mind, you manged to at least try and take interest in each boy. But each time, it felt harder and harder, knowing that nobody could light that fiery spark within you like the certain guard you'd cast your eyes upon, each day as he stood at your gardens gate.

You turned to face him now, your fingers coming up to brush over his rose painted cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, hands coming up to rest at your hips.

"My brave, brave guard..." You whispered, slowly helping him out of his heavy metal armour. "After all those responsibilities, you still came to seek me... When did I ever get so lucky?" You whispered out, more to yourself in wonder as an even deeper blush settled on Jake's cheeks.

"I'm the lucky one, your highness." He protested, his eyes opening to a darker shade as he looked at you.

"Jake, I told you not to call me that..." You sighed, your finger absentmindedly trailing down to trace along his lips. He immediately pursed his lips, resting a soft kiss against the digit.

"I know, my love... It just reminds me of how lucky I am to have my princess. You know I'd do anything for you..."

You released another sigh as you gazed at him, your hands coming up to run through his hair.

"I've been aching for you all day... I think there is something that you can do for me." You smirked, feeling yourself blush at your own boldness. His eyes went seemingly darker, a barely there growl releasing from the back of his throat at your words.

"Is that so, hm?" His fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his feet carrying him forward to back you up against the bed.

You nodded, slowly and teasingly slipping the night gown off your shoulders. With that, he pushed you back on your crimson sheets, arms dropping down to rest on either sides of your head as his signature coin necklace dangled above your face.

"I am at your service then."

~The End.~

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A/N: Okay so before you kill me for not finishing the smut part, I promise you that there is more to come... I just wanted to make a little beginning to start off with🤭 Thank you all so so much for the support you've already granted and let me know how you liked this chapter! All my love... ~jakesbeloved 💌

@vanfleeter @literal-dead-leaf @sanguinebats @lipstickitty @stardustjake @georgeharrisonlover

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