#beta opulence

[neesieiumz]

𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑩'𝑺 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑳𝑬 || ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ

summary | stuck in a small town, kento takes a leap and takes a cooking class at the town's only apple orchard, and changes his life forever.

warnings | nsfw. 18+. minors do not interact. fluff-angst-smut with a happy ending. like i wanna make this really sweet but this has also its own plotline. It gives Hallmark Movie. cfo!nanami who hates the city life. female reader. afab reader. apple-orchard owner!reader. smut. cunnilingus. missionary position. he falls in love with you at first sight. yuuji, nobara, megumi, inumaki, maki and yuta all work at the orchard as well. ex-boyfriend!toji. good-dad/person!toji. family drama. family problems. mentions of emotional abuse. nanami's father is mentioned (everything about him is not canon, so don't worry.) your uncle is not a good person. oc characters. mention of oc characters death.

notes | this is all thanks to @ohkento (who also beta read for me 💞) and @todorosie when we were venting about new nanami fans and talking about his characterization as well lmaoooo. lulah brought up the idea and it's been stuck with me ever since. i also wanna thank @tteokdoroki for being my writing partner during this. NOW ON AO3

word count | 44k

What good is a man, if he is a lost man?

Life passes by, the wind’s breeze carefully blowing past the chimes of life. An out-of-body experience, ungrounded, unholy. 

Unneeded.

Kento Nanami has always done what he was told, nothing more and nothing less. Following the hardened orders of his father’s stern voice. As he grew as tall as the trees in his grandmother’s backyard, all he had was the virulent words of his father to guide him. All he could do was listen. His words were like the poisonous apples Snow White ate, which led to her demise, yet unlike Snow White, he did not have the seven dwarves to help her, nor had any opulent royal figure to use an idea of love’s first sight and kiss to help him. All he could do was eat and chew on the sulfuric skin of the apple, the acerbic flesh of the fruit, hoping the nutrients underneath it would pull him out of his anguish. His hope was for naught. For all it did was make his battered mind complacent, his personality turned hostile to those who first met him. 

His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glowered, sulking, hunched over. He trodden to school and back to the desolate home, empty and devoid of any life. Forward and back, again and again, nonstop of eating and upon the apples of his words. All his formative years, after the tragic loss of his maternal grandmother, the last connection to his mother was held and molded in the hands of his father. His father would have never even raised him, if not for his grandmother’s passing. The dreams and hopes, the soft words she instilled into him, crushed, and pressed and squeezed out of him. His father was a hydraulic press, and he was the unassuming apple, placed underneath and squeezed of all life. 

Middle school. High School. All went by a blur for him, because it was all the same, a simple change of location was the most “provocative” thing that happened to him during those times. 

University… It was different, but the same in a way. 

He studied finance, and the only choice he had was to have his father support his education. It was the one area of study he had the least amount of the vitriol for. He was away from home, his school a whole two hours away from home. However, the expectations were still the same, the already diminutive trust between father and son wavered about the more and more he pulled away from him. He was given a semblance of freedom…but what was he to do? When he would ask himself that question, all he could hear was the voice of his father, repeating every rule and word he spoke throughout his life. Even two hours away, it is like he never left. His father was the voice of his consciousness. His father was his inner voice, and with nothing else, all he could do was listen. It was the reason he accepted Satoru Gojo’s invitation to work with him, the moment they graduated high school. His “incisive appliance of finance” according to many of his professors, was what his family business needed. One could not go two steps without hearing about the famous Gojo Conglomerate. 

This is it, everything we have been working for. His father’s voice was loud, it overpowered his thoughts. 

It is the reason he went on to take up the highest position in the company’s financial department, within the executive floor, all financials held his final say. And just like that, it was like middle and high school over again. He went to work, and went back home, home to his desolate home, empty and devoid of all life. Every week, he would send money to his now-aging father, who renovated his room as quickly as cheetahs ran through the river. It didn’t matter, he had a lot of it, and that was the goal at the end of the day, right?

What good is a man, if he is a lost man? If he is a lost man with money, good for everyone but himself. 

The air smelled of spiced fruit, cinnamon, and nutmeg. He stood amid a bustle within the square of the town. In his hands, held a steaming cup of tea in his hands, watching as the steam billowed from it. He still wonders how he got here, in the middle of a small town. His other hand tucked into the pocket of his new jacket, protecting himself from the cool temperature of the climate. His other hand wrapped around the cup, lifting it up to take a sip of the warm drink, feeling flushed as it heated him up temporarily, feeling it pool in his stomach. 

As he walked, not knowing where he was going, he could feel his phone burning holes in his pockets. The device reminded him of the reason he was here, a favor to his boss/friend if he can really call him that. More of a benign tumor that never seems to let him go. If there was one thing about Satoru Gojo is that he never fails to see how far he can branch out, to see just how many pots he can put his hands in. Doesn’t matter the time or the place, if there's an opportunity, he’ll take it. 

This is why, once again Kento Nanami is here, in the small town of Aquarine. He still had no idea as to why he was here, only given a phone number and an email address from Gojo. So now, all Kento could do was take his newly given week off, waiting for this “business venture” to come through. 

Lifting his head up, his brown eyes landed on a crooked wooden sign, with the letters burned into each wooden, chipped arrow, each pointing in different directions. To his left, where he just came from, three different signs pointed to an attached line of small businesses and shops, giving off the names including the name of the cafe where his tea came from. However, only one arrow pointed to the right or straight-ahead for Kento. He took one glance, seeing nothing but a dirt and bare road. He looked back at the sign, before seeing the cursive, beautiful lettering singed into the wood. 

Honeyed Orchards. 

An orchard. He could not lie to himself, his curiosity was piqued, and he could not remember the last time he’d ever stepped into one of those before. Lifting his left wrist up, he took a glance over at the time from his extremely expensive watch, a gift from Geto for his 27th birthday. 4:27, he saw the ticking hands currently landed on. Once again, he had absolutely nothing to do. So with a breath, seeing the condensed steam blow out from his nostrils, he shafted the scarf around his neck before turning his feet towards the dirt path.

With every step he took, the more he left the small town behind, soon surrounded by nothing but dirt and plainlands stretching out for miles. With no distraction from the bustle of the holiday season in the small town, all he could do was focus on each and every step in front of him. He lifted his hand, taking another long sip of his tea. He felt the glow of the setting sun to his right, as well as the cool breeze of the frigid fall, soon turning into winter. Kento could feel the nip of frostbite tickling against his ears, seriously regretting not buying a pair of earmuffs. 

He took another sip before his eyes caught onto something in the distance, a mangle of things. As he walked closer, the first thing his eyes caught was a fence, silver and tall, almost six feet tall. That said, the fence also had spiked wiring twisted along the top of the fencing. His eyes then moved to the trees, stationed not too far from the fencing. There were a lot of trees, each spaced a few feet from each other, so you could walk in between each one. The area was big, at least from the one side Kento could see. The orchard must have taken up at least two to three acres from one side, which he could only estimate how big it was. 

His eyes caught onto something along the side of the road, seeing what seemed to be a large sign anchored right next to the front fencing of the orchard. Once again, a foreign curiosity grappled at him. The moment he got to the sign, he turned his head to see exactly what it said. 

It was a chalkboard sign, with huge blocky, bubble letters that said, “3RD WEEK OF COOKING WITH THE BOSS, SPACE IS STILL AVAILABLE, PRICE: $75. COUPLES/PAIRS $85. FAMILIES $95. THIS WEEK’S DELICACY: APPLE PIE BARS. SEE MORE INSIDE.” Around the words, Kento could see different drawings and designs around it, enticing people to come and learn how to bake different things with them. 

He saw a bee buzzing around, with little track marks detailing his tour from the drawn honey pot as well. There was also a bunch of apples, all different colors, drawn at another corner of the sign. It was sweet and very cute. His eyes then glanced up, seeing the opened fence door, with a paved brick and windy road, with a few cracks into it, leading up to steps to a home. A beautiful terracotta color was what caught his eye first. Glancing back at the sign, he soon made his way towards the house, his oxfords hitting again the brick pavement of the orchard. He soon made it up the stairs, before his eyes landed on the sign right underneath the doorbell. 

Welcome to Honeyed Orchards

Hours: Mon to Thurs – 8:30 to 5:30. Thurs to Sat – 9:30 to 7:30. Closed on Sundays. 

Knock twice before entering, please. 

He then lifted his hand, knocking twice before moving on to the doorknob, slowly twisting it before pushing the door open. Immediately, he was hit by the intense smell of rich red apples, and the strong scent of currant and sweet cinnamon as well. The interior was spacious, the walls nearly covered head to toe with a mixture of three different holiday decorations, yet it seems to have made it work. The floors were wood, glossy, waxed, and clean, to the point where they could see his warbly reflection. To his left, he could see stairs right next to an open space, with a sign that said, “Welcome! :-)”. 

Stepping inside the space, the wooden floors are now covered by a soft carpet, red in color with multi-colored designs on it. The walls had bookcases pressed against the theme, filled to the brim with different titles. Scattered around the room were comfy couch-like chairs, with decorative pillows as well. 

“Hello!” a voice suddenly called out, startling him just a bit. 

Swiftly, he turned his head to his left, only to see a decently sized desk, with someone standing behind it. A boy, no more than sixteen years old, standing behind it with a huge smile on his face. He had pink-spiky hair, with crescent-shaped marks underneath his eyes. Kento walks up to the desk, taking a glance at the young boy before looking at the signs behind him.

Pick-your-own tour – $70 per person 

Catering/To-Go Menu

Apple Custard Tart → ||1 tart → $3 || 5 tarts → $7 || Dozen →  $16

Apple Donuts → || 1 donut → $2 || 5 donuts → $6

Dozen → $15

Apple-Pomegranate Cobbler – $25

Apple-Rum Spiced Cake – $45

Apple Upside-Down Cake – $35

Double Crust Apple Pies – $20 per pie

Fried Apple Pies – $20 per pie 

Honey-Spiced Apple Cider -> Pack of 6 – $9.95 || Pack of 12 – $20.95

Pomegranate-Glazed Apple Fritters -> 1 fritter → $1 || 5 fritters → $6 || 12 fritters → $14 || 24 fritters → $26

He could feel his stomach turn in hunger, glancing at the menu, before looking at the worker who stood in attendance at the desk. 

“Welcome to Honeyed Orchards, do you wish to go on a tour or buy a cake?”

The flash of the sign outside came into his mind, “I saw a sign outside about these classes, and to sign up–” The boy, however, cut him off, his face full of excitement as he began to type away at whatever computer was in front of him.

“Oh yes, yes yes, Cooking with the boss! They take place every Thursday, after business hours from 6:00 to 7:30, is that okay?” Kento said nothing, shifting weight in between his body before nodding his head. 

“Then, I'll sign you up right now! Can I have your name?”

“Kento Nanami.”

The boy– Yuuji, from his name tag—began typing it in before taking a glance up at Kento. 

“You’re not from this place, are you? I think I would have remembered you?”

Kento lifted his eyebrow up, before nodding shortly, “I’m not… I’m here for… business.” He spoke, taking the last sip of his tea before crushing the cup in his hands. 

Yuuji’s brown eyes glanced at his hands, before bending down underneath the desk and pulling out a trash can, “you can put that in here if you need to.”

“Oh,” he was a little taken aback at the amount of pleasantry in his voice, “thank you.”

He threw his insulated single-use cup away, Yuuji smiling before focusing back on the computer. 

“Sorry if it’s taking a minute, this is my first time behind the desk,” Yuuji said, squinting at the screen below him.

“No worries, please take your time, I’m not in a rush.”

The two of them soon exchanged light words as Yuuji tried to figure out how to pull up the classes to sign him up for them. Yuuji mentioned how three of his friends and some upper-class peers from his school all work here, all scattered about the land, doing different things. 

“The boss is in town right now, along with Megumi, my friend, getting the last ingredients for tomorrow’s class— Oh here it is!” Yuuji fist-pumped, a huge smile on his face causing Kento’s own lips to upturn slightly at his high energy. 

“Okay, that will be 75 dollars!” he said, in turn pushing Nanami to fish his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

Flipping it open, he pulled out a clean and crisp 100-dollar bill from his pocket before giving it to Yuuji. 

“Keep the change,” he said immediately, taking the receipt from his hands, as well as a brochure of instructions as well. 

“Oh thank you, and see you tomorrow at 6:30!”

Kento turned around, giving Yuuji a small wave before walking away, soon exiting out of the cozy home. It was like his steps caught a new wind as he made his way back to his inn room within the town. He didn’t know what it was, why he felt this way. Was it because he had something to look forward to? Ever since he stepped foot on that Orchard, something within him twisted and turned the more he thought about it, but yet also something warm began to bud within the coldness of his heart.

Hmm… He’ll blame that on the tea he drank.

The next day arrived, and Nanami found himself walking past the sunset, on that same dirt path on his way to the Orchard once more. His hands were empty this time, tucked in his creme pants as he eyed the orchard house he had just in yesterday. The moment he walked up the stairs, not bothering to look at the sign before knocking twice and opening the door.

The first thing he noticed was the voices echoing throughout the foyer. Scattered about were about 20-24 people, maybe even more, all mingling together. The lights were dimmed, on account of the darkening sky outside as he stepped inside the house fully. To his left, he could see an erected table, with trays of what seemed to be apple-related snacks as well as both a clear pitcher as well as a metal insulated one. Taking a moment, he walked over to the table, taking one of the many paper plates before looking at everything offered, each with a sign indicating what they were. Apple turnovers, chocolate cookies, brownies, etc. He took a little bit of everything before making his way to the pitchers where they each labeled respectively ���hot” and “cold” cider. He took a paper cup before putting it underneath the spout and filling it ¾ of the way. 

He stood in the background, watching as these people who obviously look like they’ve grown up together, have their own conversation. There were people across the board, old and young, and there looked to be at least two different families here as well. Lifting up the sweet delicacy, he took a tentative bite, eyes slightly widening at the taste of the soft, sugar-crusted pastry, as well as the juiciness of the apples within the desert. He took another, bigger bite, each one better than the last one. The soft, buttery flakiness of the turnover pastry only enhanced the flavor of the cinnamon and sugar-glazed apple filling. 

Before he knew it, he was already reaching for another piece, the one in his hands gone. Taking his next bite, a noise caught his attention, and the people around him, as he looked up to see Yuuji, the boy from earlier in the afternoon who signed him up, standing there. He wore a red apron and had a wide smile on his face, hands clasped in front of him. 

“Welcome once again everyone, you can all follow, and please wash your hands at the back of the room, and we can go ahead and get started!” He announced, waving for the crowd of people, families included to follow him. 

In an unmannerly-like fashion, he stuffed the rest of the pastry in his mouth, using his hand to cover up his boorishness before following the crowd, being the last one to walk in. The room was bright, the overhead lights all on the fullest setting. From what Kento counted, there were twelve tables, six tables on each side with a middle aisle. Each table has two sets of ingredients, possibly two people sharing one table to make as much room as possible. First, keeping safety in mind, he followed behind and made sure to wash his hands thoroughly, before making his way to the tables. 

Eying the table closer, he can see laminated cards, folded in half into something that reminded of his name plaque back on his office desk. Walking around the tables, cautiously not catching the eye of anyone who was taking their place at the table. He soon found his own name, which was last name only, his eyebrows furrowing at the sudden misspelling of his name. 

‘Nanamin’ It seems that someone must have miswritten his name. 

Nonetheless, he took his place, eyeing each of the ingredients, all carefully weighed out and in place. Multiple bowls, each containing either, sugar, both brown and white, and flour. Plates that contained butter, were each carefully labeled as salted or unsalted as well. There were many other ingredients as well, each carefully placed into three categories, Crust, Filling, and Toppings. In the middle of all the ingredients was a laminated piece of paper, a recipe, printed on beautifully-designed apple greenery-inspired paper. 

Kento sits down on the stool, and just as he’s about to scan through the recipe itself, the door opens. 

“Welcome everyone,” a new, unfamiliar voice calls out to the room.

The rumbling of the room rested as Kento heard footsteps very close to him. His eyes glanced up, and he stopped. 

Beautiful was his first thought, his brown eyes watching as you made your way to the front and center of the room, standing in the middle of the blackboard that held the words, “Today’s desert, Apple Pie Bars!” 

You were wearing a black apron, french-retro, and skirt-like, with two short layers of a ruffled skirt. Said apron had apples, red, yellow, and green designed and scattered all against it. Despite the evident datedness of the apron, it was obvious that you kept it in good condition. Underneath the apron, you wore a simple red-plaid shirt, with dark jeans as well, and paired with a simple pair of black boots. Your hair, long braids with loose curls at the end, was pinned and packed up by a huge black hair clip. 

Your smile was wide, accompanied by glossy lips as you greeted the class in front of you, introducing yourself as well. The moment he heard your name, I felt something within him shift, something clenching at his heart. The heat was rising in him as well, he could feel his fawn skin being tinged with red and pink. Kento coughed under his breath, using his scarf to muffle the sound, taking deep breaths to calm the boiling inner turmoil within him. 

“Welcome to the third class, and I think I speak for everyone when I say this is definitely a class everyone has been waiting for. Apple Pie Bars is definitely something everyone around town enjoys,” you speak, beginning to pace around the room. 

“A delicious snack, for you, your kids, friends— trust me, there’s very little people that don’t enjoy these.”

You winked, and Kento couldn’t hold back his smile as the room erupted into a burst of short laughter as well. He faced forward, sitting down at the provided stool as you continued on your introduction. 

“Alright, first let’s begin with our crust, the oven’s are already preheated and be sure to make sure you have an oven-safe label so we don’t mix anyone up!”

He followed your every instruction, watching you as you stood at your own table, Yuuji right beside you, as you showed hands-on what to do. His hands felt sticky and pasty as they mixed the flour and salt into the wet ingredients. There were spatulas and some tables even had electric mixers involved but your words, “I prefer to use my hands, which is why clean hands are really important for this step, but putting in that extra effort makes them taste just as good,” made him at least want to try. After all, he would be the only one eating these bars after all. 

Soon after, watching how his dough consistency was similar to yours, he spread the mixture onto the greased pan, pressing it until it was smooth against the silver pan. On the sides, there was a symbol, a pair of glasses taped to the sides. This must have been the symbol that made his pan different from the others. One by one, everyone lined up, with him at the front, they all placed their trays into the ovens, already preheated and ready for them. Once everyone was in the ovens, you turned on a timer, before facing the class again. 

“Next is the filling, which requires the mini stove in front of you, each person will be sharing one of course, but there’s enough room for everyone to use it at once!”

He glanced down at the mini stove, seeing two pans on his side of the stove and seeing another two on his table sharer’s side as well. Suddenly, the door closest to him, the one that you came out of opened up, and suddenly people, teenagers all about Yuuji’s age, five in total, rolled a cart in front of them. They all wore the same apron as Yuuji, and each had their own name tag. 

“My lovely assistant and employees will happily pass out the apples,” you said, everyone watching as they all grabbed a bowl from the cart before passing them out, placing two bowls on every table. 

A girl with long green hair, and purple glasses placed two bowls on Kento’s table. He took a glance at her name tag, seeing the name “Maki” written there. Quietly, he thanked her, and she nodded her head, before moving on to the next table. Once they were all passed out, the incoming employees bowed, some of them smiled, and the others waved at you before slowly walking out. At the corner of his eye, he could see Yuuji waving at two of them, a boy with black spiky hair and a girl with a ginger bob on her head. 

“Now that we've all got our apples, fresh as they could possibly be, let’s move on to make our filling! Let’s turn on the stoves and start melting the butter that’s under the Filling category.”

The next steps, he especially watched carefully since he was now working with constant heat. He watched as the two skillets were used to make the same things, but no pans would be big enough for everything to fit in. He caramelized the apples and poured in water carefully to prevent the apples themselves from burning. As you work, Kento can see Yuuji moving behind the scenes, his eyes carefully watching all the pans within the ovens and seeing how the crust reacts under the heat. 

Fifteen minutes went by and the caramelized apple filling was put away in an empty metal bowl, with a plastic cover to keep everything warm. 

“Finally, we have the topping, which is, of course, optional for those who have an aversion or allergy to nuts. To those who opted for walnuts, please listen to my instructions,” you started, taking up the cup of crushed walnuts into your hands, 

Kento followed along as you toasted the walnuts onto the newly provided, clean skillet. The room soon began smelling nutty, and smoky as Kento watched his nuts slowly turn a golden brown, careful to make sure that the walnuts didn’t burn. He watched your every move and made plans to follow them. After the toasting, the stove turned off, and the pan holding the walnuts was placed in a heat-safe area. The next step was to mix the last of the ingredients for the topping in another bowl, carefully adding the chilled butter to it. At this, the timer beside you went off, and immediately Yuuji got to work, bringing out each tray of the crust to every table. 

The crust was golden-brown perfect and he could smell the warmth and comfort within the crust of the bars. He looked away, going back to his nuts and turning off the heat the moment he saw a tinge of dark brown-turning black at the edges of the nuts. After that, the final step for the topping was to mix the nuts into the cinnamon-butter mixture and massage it into clumps. 

“We’re at the final part, now everything else is as simple as pie. Just put the filling into the crust, smoothing it out, before pouring the topping on top of it before putting them all back into the oven for one more hour.”

An hour later, Kento was faced with a cool pile of freshly made apple pie bars. The room was full of a nutty apple scent, and everyone around him was speaking, some were taking premature bites of their desserts, Kento seeing them yelp in pain from the heat, but still smiling from the taste. 

“I see that you’re a new face.” Your voice was close, too close to him. 

Quickly, he turned around, his steps stumbling as he was suddenly faced with your beauty. 

“Yes.” Despite his suddenly beating heart, his voice was calm, a little too calm honestly, “I’m not from around here.”

“Oh, and what brings you to the little old Aquarine? Doubt there’s much out here?” You smiled at him, leaning against the counter, one hand laid across the counter, and the other pressed up against your face, holding you steady.

“Business, as a favor to a friend,” he spit out before he had another chance to think about it. 

Your eyebrows quirked up, “Business,” your eyes suddenly fluttered up and down, Kento’s spine straightening as your eyes looked back up at his face. 

“Yeah, you seem like the business type,” you hummed, but your smile was still unwavering. 

Taking a deep breath, he held his hand out, “Nanami, Namami Kento.”

You glance at his hand, before looking back at him, before your soft hand enveloped his hand, shaking it slowly, as you reintroduce yourself to him, this time with your last name as well. 

“So, you say you’re here on business, by the way that watch looks, I’m assuming it's very expensive business, huh?”

He glanced down at his watch, the expensive thing, and shrugged his shoulders, “that’s what I'm here to determine anyways.”

With a slow nod, you took in what he said before focusing your own attention on the apple bars he created. With one hand you pointed to them, looking over at him.

“Did you try one yet, or are they still too hot for your mouth to handle?”

Your voice teased him, a playful smirk dancing on your face. The feeling within him, an elated feeling had him reaching over to the metal tray, before picking it up and putting it in his mouth. To think he was just criticizing those who put the bars in his mouth before letting them cool. Luckily, his tongue didn’t suffer too much from the heat, and the nutty apple taste of the bars distracted him from whatever pain he was feeling. The crunch of walnuts mixed into the chewy cinnamon-butter topping, all baked perfectly, mixing in with the caramelized apples was perfect.

“Well, Mr. Nanami?” your voice airy, and the way you spoke his last name had his heart clenching in not only desire but unease. 

Once he was finished, he took the complimentary bottle of water, taking a few sips before facing you once more. 

“I was never a desert person until I came here, your recipes are incredible.”

Your smile suddenly became much more bashful, your smile wide as you looked away, “thank you, I may have come up with the recipe, but all the thanks belong to my grandmother.”

Your head tilted up, and his eyes followed your own to see an older woman in black and white photography, with features similar to you smiling there in an all-gray background as well. He smiled at the picture before turning back to you.

“I’m sure she’ll be very proud of you,” Kento states, picking up another bar before taking a bite. 

You smiled back at him, but before you could say something, suddenly the spiky-haired boy who came in early in the class pushed through the door near the two of you. Eyeing you, he walked up to you before whispering something in your ear. Kento watched your reaction closely to the teenage boy’s words, watching as your smile faded and the brightness in your eyes faded. Something was wrong, Kento thought. He put his bar down as he tried to step closer to you, but instead, you turned to him, a smile returning on your face, a fake one that reminded him of the one Satoru gave during very boring executive and chairman meetings. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami, but it seems I have to cut our conversation short, but I really hope to see you around town.”

Before he could say something, you were gone, the boy following after you. He could only watch as you left, the lingering smell of red currant and amber following you. He could hold back the sigh, this unknowing feeling deflating within him the moment you were gone. Sighing, he grabbed the cover to the aluminum tray, covering the rest of his desert, before fixing up his scarf and jacket, smiling at the lingering guests before making his way out of the orchard, towards his inn room. 

Honeyed Orchards was your heart and soul. 

You were born on this Orchard's grounds, as were your mother and her siblings as well. These sources hold memories for you. When you would take walks with your family, you would often find yourself passing by the place where you first walked, on a picnic blanket, surrounded by your grandmother, your ailing grandfather, and your parents. Your father was a sweet, caring, and strong man from the few memories you had of him, and what your grandparents had recorded of him. You would see him, cutting down old rotting trees, taking huge baskets of apples with his bare hands, and carrying them back. He would often hold competitions with your grandfather, before he got sick, on who could carry the most baskets, your grandmother used to recount. “Your father would win, of course, don’t tell your granddad I said that, even after the grave, he would still say he won every time.” 

You would see your mother, holding you in her arms or in a makeshift carrier, helping your grandmother cook for the bakery, or even sometimes carrying baskets of apples as well. Her smile, the exact same as your grandmother’s, was always wide. Your grandmother always made sure to capture their love for each other, and their love for the Orchard your family grew up in as well. They had made plans for them to continue the work after your grandmother, and your grandmother had been happy, knowing that her eldest daughter and her husband would continue running Honeyed Orchards. 

They died in a tragic accident as they were driving back from the city. A date night, you remember that night as clear as day, you were ten after all. You stayed with your grandmother, helping her prepare for the bakery, making huge bowls of apple fillings for different pastries. It was nothing new, this was nothing new for you, yet everything changed the moment they died. The medical costs and funeral nearly put your grandmother under, and with little to no help from your aunt or uncle, your mother’s younger siblings, who left their small-town life behind. The two of you had no one but each other, you had lost your parents, the people who gave you life and were one of two reasons that you would smile every day, and your grandmother lost the only daughter and son-in-law who cared about both her and her life’s long work. 

Every root, every trunk, every branch, every flower, and every fruit that was borne from it, held deep, sustaining memories for you. All the good ones, and all the bad ones as well. 

So when your grandmother would eventually pass away, it was a no-brainer that she would give you the Orchard. You had just returned from four years in university, a stipulation for taking ownership of the Orchard, majoring in agricultural studies as well as a minor in business. That day when she passed away was a peaceful one for you, unlike your parents, you knew her time was coming much sooner. 

Two days after that was the reading of her Will, and in those two days, you would meet the person who would continue to hound you for the next five years. 

Your mother’s younger brother, your uncle who didn’t bother to lift a finger when your mother had passed. 

He believed that when your mother passed away, his older sister, he would get the Orchard, not even for a second believing that it would pass on to his niece. His niece who has never spoken a word to and has seen one (1) singular picture of when she was turning one. So when the town’s solicitor announced that he would only be getting a decent amount of her inheritance, but no Orchard, the man was livid. He had planned to contest the will, citing there’s no way that you, a young girl, could ever run the Orchard, However, your grandmother knew her one and only son and made sure that her Will was bound tightly, that there was no physical way for him to contest the will, and that the only way that he could be the orchard was through the very niece he despised. You. 

The youngest of your mother’s siblings, her sister, she was alright, not much to say about her. She knew she wasn’t getting the orchard, and she only recently started talking to her mother again, before she passed. Your aunt gave you a simple hello, a warning about her older brother and his relentlessness, and a simple goodbye, taking the check and heirlooms left by your grandmother before taking the next train back to where she lived with her wife and two kids. 

Ever since that day, letters, calls, and emails have flooded your inbox, all coming from either your uncle directly or your uncle’s people, who seem to deal in shady business and work. Every time, your answer was the same, that you would NOT sell your livelihood to him. You knew he wanted to make a quick buck off of it, but there was probably so much more history behind his resentment and indignation towards both your grandmother, her orchard, and your mother as well. 

Five long years, business is amazing, single-handedly digging yourself out of the hole that your parents' deaths had caused. Your orchard is the perfect place for school children within the city to take a field trip 45 minutes away to play and learn more about the life cycle of plants as well. You established both the bakery and gift shop. You worked hand in hand with the city for special events as well, and don’t forget the number of events, weddings, and birthday parties all taking place on Honeyed Orchard's grounds. 

Still, your uncle was unrelenting, as per your aunt’s last words to you, and even now after five years, you find your fences being vandalized, and random things found upon the porch of the main building/your personal home. He would throw salt all over the trees, most of them survived the attack but some of them would succumb to the salt, and you would have to cut them down. Threats in the form of pig's blood smeared across the doors, windows, walls, and porch wood. Multiple reports to the one and only police station in Aquarine, yet they could never be caught and you can only put many cameras on a huge property. 

One of the things you came up with was having cooking classes for one month out of the year, coming up with new recipes, and teaching it to people who really wanted to learn. Some families would use it as a time to bond with each other, couples would share a table and create their own connections to feed each other. By the third class, the same people were coming by…

So it definitely caught your attention when a blonde, handsome stranger joined your class. He was put in the front of your class, with only one name, which later learned was a misspelling of his last name—which you would blame Yuuji for— as he was in charge of the name cards for everyone. He wore a heavy blazer to protect himself from the growing chills outside, as well as a scarf and glasses. An air of what you thought was artiness was around him, the moment you laid your eyes on him as you were speaking. However, when you spoke to him, his voice was calm, and tranquil, this aura of artiness you thought he had, mostly likely a product of a growing nervousness, knowing how many people had their eyes on him. You knew he was the topic on almost everyone’s minds, seeing your students eye him and speaking in low-toned voices around him, hoping he wouldn't pick up on their conversations. 

Out of everyone, he followed your instructions to the tee, including using his hands to mix the crust of the bars, everyone else preferred the spatulas or mixers you provided. His apple pie bars are nearly identical to your own as well.

When class was over, you knew you had to take the time to talk to him, and luck was on your side when he seemed to be equally responsive to your words. Your grandmother used to call you “A Human Double,” to be able to almost accurately predict someone and their life just by simply looking at them, and what they were wearing. 

You smiled as he ate the pie bar in whole, watching as his skin turned a slight pink from the heat but easily watched him chew and down the whole thing. He called your recipe, “incredible,” a common compliment you heard almost every day but yet, coming from him, something within you kick-started as you saw him pick up another bar. Just as you opened your mouth, the urge to ask him if he was doing anything tomorrow, your optimism was shattered the moment you saw Megumi rush into the classroom, a very worried look on his face.

With no time, he whispered in your ear, “Your uncle is here, and he’s not leaving until he sees you. Yuuji, Nobara and Maki are doing their best but he has people with him.”

So now here you are, stomping out in the back, huffing and puffing, anger written all over your face as Megumi follows behind you. You untied our apron, easily throwing it onto the hook you kept it on before going through the back door where you found a growing commotion. The first thing you noticed was Yuuji and Maki stepping up to your uncle, their eyes furrowed, anger coursing through their systems. The next thing you noticed, as well as the first thing you heard, was your uncle and his people’s words, jeering and mocking the job each of them did. All of your employees excluding Megumi who was right behind you were surrounding them. Jogging down the porch, raising your voice but not yelling, telling them to take a few steps back. 

Hearing your voice, they turned around, following your instructions immediately as you stepped up in between your teenage employees and your deceitful uncle. Who stood amid his goons, hands tucked in the pockets of his oversized suit jacket. 

“Ahh, my beautiful niece, just who I needed to see.” He started, looking at you.

“You know, if you really wanna run a successful business, you shouldn’t hire people that berate paying customers,” His smirk was sleazy, and it gave you the creeps. 

You simply narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms, “you’ve been banned, multiple times, and been told to get off this property those times as well. So what, what could you possibly want that requires you to break those rules?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “not for long, when you finally sign over the property to me.”

You could scream, the amount of times you’ve been in this push-and-pull situation with him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not signing this property over to you! Now and your people can get out! It’s late and I have better things to do than to explain to a man almost three times my age that he can’t get everything that he wants!”

A fit of anger overtook your uncle’s face, “oh you little bit–”

Before he could continue, his hand raised up towards you, and a “Yo,” in a loud voice suddenly cut through the air. Everyone looked towards your right, seeing a familiar silhouette walking towards the two of you. 

“Dad?” Megumi called out, taking a step closer to see. 

Hands in his pockets, and a smirk on his face, Toji Fushiguro came through in between the trees, despite the cold, wearing nothing but a thin white long-sleeve shirt, and sweatpants, as well as a pair of sandals. It’s like the cold doesn't even exist to him. 

Toji Fushiguro, father to your employee, and ex-employee to Honeyed Orchards, the only one your grandmother hired when you went to college. 

As well as your ex-boyfriend. 

The two of you dated for less than a year, six months after your grandmother passed, by then Megumi was about ten years old. For a moment, you thought he would be the one you married, you established an amazing relationship with his son, considering that you were now his boss. However, the two of you end things amicably, after he realizes he’ll never stop comparing you to his wife, Megumi’s mother, who unfortunately passed away a few weeks after Megumi’s birth. However, he knew that he wouldn’t let up on checking up on you, especially with the number of times he had to step in while the two of you were dating when your uncle would do his usual taunts. 

Despite it all, your uncle was scared of Toji, especially with the way he almost tore apart his entire pack of goons one time, three months before the two of you broke up. Those three to four months were all quiet from your uncle until he heard through the grapevine that you two broke up and the taunts would start again. 

And now here he was, preparing to pick up his son and his friends for a weekend-long sleepover at his home. You took the moment to glance over at your uncle, seeing him begin to shake and sweat at the sight of the man who easily fought his people and can and will do it again. 

Toji stopped in front of everyone, “come here to get my idiot of a son and find a little rat and his pack of mice scampering around.” he smirked, his black hair shifting out of his eyesight. 

Despite his fear, your uncle puffed up his chest, before facing Toji, “this has nothing to do with you Toji, last I checked you and my niece broke up a long time ago.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting weight between your legs, taking a moment to glance at Megumi who only snorted while rolling his eyes. Toji, however, only raised an eyebrow, his anger slowly simmering and bubbling at the top. 

“Ha…? Didn't you hear me, I said I came to get my idiot son and his friends? This happens to be where they are, which makes this my business,” he hissed your uncle’s full name at the end of his sentence, “and even if he wasn’t here, Princess,” his nickname for you, “is still a good friend of mine. So yeah, it is my business. So I suggest you get out of here.”

His words held a steady beat but it’s obvious it’s filled with venom and vitriol. Toji’s anger for your uncle not only came from your dealings with him but from Toji's former employer, the only one to give him a chance after he was dealing with a moody ten-year-old and needed a fresh start and a new place. He and Megumi stayed in the very house you all stood in the back of for six months, while you were away at college until he could stand on his own two feet. 

There were memories for him that bore fruit here as well, and he’ll be damned if a man like your uncle takes that away from him. 

“Get out of here!” Toji’s words held finality, and everyone knew it was over. 

With a final glare, but luckily no other words from your uncle, he left with his pack of goons. Toji said nothing at first, making sure they were long down the road before officially turning towards you and the rest of your employees. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you started but he shook his head, 

“Yes I did, but I doubt it’ll be over when it comes to him. Didn’t even know he was in town again.”

You nodded your head with a sigh, pressing your fingers against your throbbing temple, “yeah, it’s never a good sign when he’s back in Aquarine.”

“And you have no idea why he’s here?”

With that, you could only shake your head, before turning to your teenage employees, telling them to finish cleaning up, get their stuff, and clock out, as well as telling them to enjoy their week off. You gave Toji a short good night, smiling as best as you could before turning around and beginning to walk up your porch. Their eyes were on you, shining to the brim with concern, including Toji’s own gaze but you couldn’t be bothered with them for the night, tired after teaching a class piling onto a long day of work. This entire interaction drained so much out of you, in so little time as well. 

Time lapsed, and before you knew it, you were recently showered, hair wrapped up, and wearing nothing but a thin, old nightgown flopping into your bed. Your eyes were heavy, and sleep was demanding of you, yet your heart hammered. An eerie feeling with the arrival of your uncle, on the same day, you met a very mysterious man who piqued your interest quite clearly. With a sigh, you turned your lamp off, snuggling into your heavy quilts and comforters, before easily falling into your dream world, dreaming of dark chocolate eyes and blond hair. 

The next day creeps onto Kento like a spider carefully procuring its prey, once again he finds himself within the square of the town. This time, he found himself walking outside of the cafe, holding the same tea had drank yesterday. The time now was nearly noon, and many people were either at work or school, it was basically empty. Taking a breath, he took another sip of his tea, savoring the taste as he glanced back down at his phone, watching the texting bubble between him and his conversations with Satoru and Suguru. 

Satoru: bleh, I'm glad I'm not the one there, that town seems like a dead end. 

Kento: The only really interesting thing is the Orchard, 

Suguru: when’s your meeting?

kento: in two days at 1:30, but I had nothing better to do so I'm walking around.

Suguru: in the cold? Your gonna get sick

kento: I’ll be fine, it's better than staying in my inn.

Suguru: Hmm, tell us how it goes. 

With a hum, he turned off his phone, closing out of the messaging and pocketing his phone once more. Once again, he found himself here, in the square. The faraway sun did nothing to help with the cooling temperatures, as he held the same tea in his hands as he walked along the sidewalk. Empty, most of the streets were, as people were inside resting up in the heat rather than walking in the frigid cold for any longer. Kento took a longer sip of his tea, sighing as he did he continued to look everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The little sounds he heard were his background noise, the one patrol rumbling down the street, and the sounds of doors opening and closing shut as well. Kento couldn’t help but give out a sigh, a familiar feeling of tedium overtaking him, much like the days in his office. 

“Mr. Nanami?” a voice, a sweet one called out his last name.

Eyes widening, a slight gasp leaving his lips, Kento turned around, frost air blowing from his reddening nose, only to see you standing not too far from him. You smiled, taking a closer step toward him. You were wearing large black thick-framed glasses on your face. Your long braids were pulled back into two low buns, with a few curls sticking out of the style. You were wearing all green, a beautiful emerald shade. A pair of pants that were skin tight at the top and loose as they made their way down your legs. As well as a simple skintight emerald green shirt as well as a brown crochet cardigan around your arms. A smile appeared on his face, standing up to greet you in full as your smile widened as he approached you. 

He greeted you, “it’s lovely to see you again,” his heart jumped when your scent hit his nose. 

“Lovely to see you again too, thought it was inevitable with how small this town is,” your legs crossed in front of one another as the two of you were only a few inches from each other. 

You took a moment to lean to your right, your eyes landing on the symbol on his cup, before glancing up at him. At the same time, he took a glance behind you, seeing your hand connected to the handle. Behind you, he could see a cart filled to the brim, large, clear glass jars, and plastic bags filled with things he could not see. 

“Running errands?” He asked you next, taking a final sip of his tea. 

You nodded your head, “yeah, there were a lot more things I needed but couldn't have time to get, had to get back in time to finish preparing for the cooking class, speaking of, how did you enjoy the apple pie bars?” 

He thought back to the half-empty tray sitting in the middle of his inn’s complimentary mini fridge stuck within the drawer. Your eyes light up at his short smile, and your smile widens as he mentions the current state of the desserts he made yesterday.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them, I definitely enjoyed creating the recipe,” you told him, pushing your glasses up on your face. 

Kento blinked, unable to keep his eyes off of you as you continued speaking, “Well, Mr. Nanami, I have to continue running errands, gotta prepare for the Viburnum Festival.”

“Viburnum Festival?” he asked, taking a step closer towards you as you began to turn away.

You blinked, turning back around with a bit of confusion on your face, “Yeah, the Viburnum Festival, there’s been signs for it all over town?” you spoke, before your manicured finger came up, pointing towards the sign Kento somehow was able to miss while taking his short walk around the town square once more. 

“It’s a town tradition, to celebrate the coming winter, we have one for every season, right here in the town square,” you said, turning back around, “I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed any of the excitement for it.”

He was shocked too, he was usually much better at understanding his surroundings, yet this town, and you, have rendered his ability to do that nearly impossible. Squeezing the insulated cup in his hand a little, he looked at you. 

“Guess I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings as much, this is the first time I’m hearing of it.”

“Oh then you have to come!” you exclaimed, suddenly letting go of your wagon filled with things. 

However, in your sudden excitement, you had forgotten that the two of you were standing upon some sort of hill, and your cart suddenly started to roll away from the two of you. Kento noticed the cart rolling away before you, you realize a few seconds later, not even thinking before taking a few large steps, his hands grabbing the handle before it could pick up speed and rolling away from things that seemed to be easily breakable as well. 

“Oh my god, thank you! I completely forget that we’re technically on a hill,” you thanked him profusely.

He smiled, holding onto the cart before shaking his head, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“But back to our conversation, you most definitely have to come to the Festival, you came to Aquarine at a perfect time too. I promise that you’ll have fun!

He couldn’t lie to himself, the idea of going that sounded so crowded put him off a lot, but seeing the way your eyes glistened, wanting him to come to see what it was all about. His heart pounded underneath your stare and before he knew it, the words were slipping out of his mouth that he’ll come but only for you. 

“But,” he interrupted your sudden sequel, causing you to freeze mid-hop, turning your head to look at him, “you have to at least tell me what it's all about first, and stop calling me Mr. Nanami, Kento is just fine.”

The delight on your face mellowed out, before nodding, “I’ll do that, if you come with me to finish the last of my errands, Kento.” you teased his name, the tip of your tongue sticking out. 

And with that, Kento’s plans for the rest of the day were set. 

He pulled the cart, not wanting to strain yourself further as the two of you soon arrived at one of the few grocery stores within the town. 

“Usually, I buy all this stuff in bulk, but most of my shipments have been stuck underneath snowstorms within the north, so I’m buying everything in town until I can get them,” you explained as you walked in between aisles to pick up the different ingredients, herbs, and seasonings that you needed. 

“But back to the Viburnum Festival, it really started a few years after the town’s conception,” Kento listened intently as you suddenly swiped a few bottles of ground cinnamon into the cart you were pushing. 

“My grandmother was seven years old when it started, so it’s been a while, but the reason this town was founded was for people who had no home to find a home. So, to count their blessings, they celebrated each season that came to pass. Viburnum was named like that because of the little white flowers that would blossom during Winter,” you continued, swiping even more ground herbs into the cart. 

“So, there’s three other festivals that happen here? What are their names?” Kento asked, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as the two of you turned left to the next aisle.

“Um, the summer one is called the Marigold Festival, the fall one is called Aster Festival, and the Spring one is called Apple Blossom Festival.”

Kento couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the Spring one, “Apple Blossom? Don’t tell me you have something to do with that?”

You turned your head, and he could tell you were suppressing your smile, “maybe,” you winked, before turning back around. 

“It used to be called the Daffodil Festival, but when my grandmother started her orchard at such a young age, and brought a lot of money to the town, the festival was renamed to Apple Blossom because of the flowers that would bloom before the apples that would grow in the fall.” you stated, before seeing the tall wall of paper towels in front of you.

Squinting your eyes, you grabbed two different brands, lifting the two of them, and comparing them, before presenting them to him, “Which one?”

Kenot blinked, taken aback, before leaning his head down, his brown eyes glancing between the two brands

“Hmmm, this one,” he said, pointing to the one in your right hand. 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking too,” you stated, placing the paper towel in your left hand back and putting the right one in your cart, before swiping a few more of that same brand into your cart as well.

“Since then, it’s been a reason for celebration in our town, and as it grows bigger, so does all the love that is shared.” your bright smile turned into a more mellow one. 

“The festivals were the favorite time of year for my family, especially the winter ones,” you said, the two of you approaching the front counter. 

Looking up, you waved at the cashier, who waved back at you, calling out by name before starting a short conversation with you. As that happened, Kento walked up, starting to immediately put things on the sole conveyor belt as it began to move. Seeing the movement, the things lining up but yo not making a step to move, the cashier took a glance to her left, only to see Kento placing all the stuff on the belt. The cashier said nothing, but she definitely raised an eyebrow at that, before scanning the last of the things.

“$567.74, is your total, sugar,” the older lady stated, Kento seeing you looking into your purse.

However, before you could pay, Kento was already standing right behind you, his card in hand, inserting it into the card slot. 

“Kento!” you squealed, but a smile on your face, “I didn’t bring you along to pay for it!”

Kento felt you lightly smacking his arm, and although he could barely feel it, only smiled before looking at you, “It’s okay, let me do this, as a thank you for explaining the festivals to me.”

Tilting your head at him, a smile appearing on your face, “I was gonna do that whether you came with me or not, there was no need for you to spend your money on lil ol’me.”

“Just let the man buy the stuff for you, sugar, sounds like he doesn't wanna take no for an answer.” the older lady working the cash register said, placing all the stuff in multiple plastic bags.

You took a breath, raising your hands up in surrender before taking a step back, allowing Kento to complete the last of the transaction. Kento smiles at your slight dramatics, taking his card out before putting it back into his wallet. Together, the two of you placed the last of the plastic bags onto the wagon as much as you could without anything spilling out. Only two bags couldn't fit, with no choice but for you to carry them as Kento wanted to try and make it fit for you. With all of your errands done, it was nothing for Kento to pull the heavy cart towards the Orchard, with you walking beside him once again. 

“How would you have pulled this cart with everything on here,” he couldn’t help but ask you, watching as the sun began to dip into the skyline.

“I could have pulled it!” you cried out, turning your head towards him.

Suddenly, Kento stopped in his tracks, an idea popping up into his head. Calling your bluff as he suddenly let go of the handle, before gesturing for you to pick up the handle and to pull. He watched as you glanced between him and the cart before letting a little “hmph” before handing him the two plastic bags you carried, before stomping right over to the wagon. 

Picking it up, Kento held back his laughter as he watched as you struggled to even make it move an inch. He watched as your sneakers slid against the sandy dirt, sweat beginning to drip against your brow as you barely moved five inches from your original position. 

“Okay, okay,” Kento cut in, grabbing the handle from you with one hand.

However, the sudden loss of stabilization had you shrieking, missing a step, and soon had you falling face-forward. With his other hand, Kento quickly reached out, his arm wrapping itself around his waist as much as he could, stopping you from falling on your face. You let out another shriek as you were suddenly on your feet again. 

“Are you okay?” He asked you, his eyes quickly scanning over you to make sure nothing was out of place for you. 

Slowly you nodded your head, adjusting your thick clothes, glasses as well, and your crochet cardigan. 

“Yeah, yeah thank you again, Kento, seems you’ve been saving me a lot recently, ” you turned towards him, giving him a wide smile.

He felt heat overtake his body at your words, pink blooming once again at his cheeks before looking away from you, nodding his head. 

With no other words exchanged, he handed you your two plastic bags, before following behind you back to your orchard. When the two of you arrived, you led him towards the back, where he suddenly noticed a lot of construction and caution tape around a certain portion of the house, in an area that was supposed to be the corner of the house, built in the middle of the side of the house and the back. It was obvious that it was new, the colors around it much brighter than the rest of the terracotta orange color of the house.

“What’s this,” he couldn’t help but ask, pointing at the addition to the house.

Glancing over at what he was pointing at, before smirking, “that is the Honeyed Orchard’s bakery-cafe, set to reopen in a few days.”

Bakery-cafe? Was this why you were offering classes, to promote the re-opening? He thought to himself as he looked at the building, seeing something through the window closest to him. Suddenly, before he could see what the interior was, cold hands came up and wrapped themselves around his eyes, blocking his vision. 

“Hey–” he started, but he felt you beginning to guide him away from the cafe.

“No peeking! You can see along with everyone else how it looks. Right now, help me put these things inside please!”

Your hands were soft, that was his first thought, heat radiating within him once again. What was wrong with him? He couldn't help but question, it was like his body was transported back to grade school when he would notice girls for the first time, and he had no courage to even speak to them, only placing himself nose first in a book. Disappointment rattled through him the moment you let go, leading him towards the back of the house. Together, the two of you carried all the stuff into the back, inside the kitchen. 

The first thing he saw was silver, lots of silver. Tall, rectangular contraptions, with glass doors, and in them he could see pastries all lined up on trays. There were rows of them, all lined up against the back wall. 

“Am I… am I supposed to be here?” Kento couldn't help but ask, turning his head to where you were only to see you approach with a basket in hand.

You tilted your head, an “eeehhh…” coming out of your mouth, “well no, but I trust you.” you pressed your manicured finger against your plump glossy lips. 

He felt glad at your words, helping you place the heavy glass pitchers and jars on the empty counters, as well as helping you organize all the seasonings and herbs. Soon the bags were empty and the wagon was clear of any items, so you easily folded up the wagon before placing it in the storage closet in the kitchen. 

“Wait, before you go!” you exclaimed, walking up to one of the tall containers, opening it up, before using the pair of tongs by it and pulling out one of the many treats. He came closer to you as you wrapped up the… what seems to be a glazed donut with pretty parchment paper, red-checkered with little apples dotted within a few of the white squares. Now fully, wrapped up, suddenly you handed it to him.

“For all your help, Kento,” you said, “it’s a glazed apple-cake donut, I couldn’t let you see the inside of the cafe, but I can let you have one of the pastries that we’ll be selling.”

He held his hands up, about to decline, saying he didn’t need it, despite his stomach turning, his inner feelings craving any treat that was made by your hand. However, the final nail was put into the coffin by the obvious rumble of his stomach stopped him from even saying a word. He blushed as you giggled at the noise, urging him to take the apple donut. 

“Th… thank you,” is all he said, taking the donut, pushing some of the parchment paper, glancing over at you, with a nervous smile on your face, teetering on the tips of your toes, waiting for his reaction. 

With that he took a bite, eyes widening at the soft riches of the donut, covered in the sweet brown sugar-cinnamon glaze. Before he knew it, he was taking another, much larger bite. How is it that everything you make tastes like magic to him? 

“I’m assuming that you like it?” you couldn’t help but ask, watching as Kento nodded his head, mouth full of donuts. 

As he ate, the two of you walked outside, soon ending up at the entrance of your fence, just as Kento finished the last of his donut. By the time the two of you got outside, the sun had almost fully set, the coolness of the afternoon now slowly turning into a frigid evening. Turning towards him, feeling your eyes on him as he cleaned his mouth of any lasting crumbs. 

“Thank you again, I had fun today, Kento,” you told him, smiling. 

Kento towards you, not wanting to go, wanting to spend the whole night talking to you, but he also knew you needed to prepare for the festival, and he’s definitely seeing you tomorrow. With that, he suddenly took a step towards you, reaching down for your bare hand. Your eyes widen as you suddenly feel him place a warm kiss on your cold knuckles. His heart was racing as he did this, he didn't even know why he was doing this. Something, a new voice within him, the same one that was guiding his actions today, told him to do this. When he gauged your reaction, seeing your eyes and mouth widen open, your free hand suddenly placed against your heart. Speechless, he left you speechless, and something within him blossomed at that, a smile appearing on his face. 

“Thank you for today, I had fun as well, and I’ll see you tomorrow, trust me,” that was the last thing he said, before turning around and making his way down the road. 

He began to make his way down the road, and after a few more seconds, he turned his head, only to see you still standing there, eyes slightly spaced out. However, when you noticed that his head was turned around, you lifted up the hand he kissed, waving at him before yelling that you better see him tomorrow. He smiled, turning around, before making his way down the road, back to his inn room. 

The first thing he noticed was the bonfire, huge, and in the middle of the square. Its red-hot fiery anger radiated a decent radius, allowing those who stood or sat near it to warm up from the cold. Kento tucked his gloved hands in his pocket, muttering “excuse me’s” as we walked past the group of giggling teenage girls who eyed him with stars in their eyes. Even so, he had only one goal in mind, keeping his eyes on the moving crowd, moving with them as they walked towards the festival. Above the entrance, he could see a huge banner, spreading from one side to another, with a black background, allowing the white, silver, and ice blue lettering and designs to pop out even more. He kept his eyes on it as much as he could, until he found himself within the town square, one fully transformed just for the Viburnum Festival. All around, different stands, showing off different games, prizes, and whatnot surrounded him. CHildren’s joy was all around, Kento couldn’t help but smile at a kid who won a huge plush off of some cartoon show he’d never heard of. 

He couldn’t lie, it entertained him, just how everyone enjoyed themselves, with no worries, and how families enjoyed themselves for just one night. A family… a bitter smile stretched across Kento’s face, the image of his father sleeping and drinking his life away, his only living family. 

“Kento!” His name being yelled out, broke him out of his trance, looking up and glancing around until he saw a waving hand not too far from him. 

His eyes widened as he saw you standing right next to a booth, a booth that currently looked like the busiest one out of the entire festival. He eyed the long line, before making his way over to you. Your braids were down, the French curls reaching the small of your back, while you tucked your hand back into the black overcoat you were wearing. Around your neck, you had a lavender-purple scarf wrapped around it. 

He made it to you, and your smile was wide, your pearly whites gleaming underneath the hanging lights the town put up for the festival.

“You really did come!” you exclaimed. 

A short smile appeared on his face as he smiled down at you, “I told you that I would, now didn’t I?” He said, glancing over at the booth, seeing the line beginning to get even longer. 

You turned your head, smiling at what Kento was seeing before turning back at him, “yeah, that’s not an uncommon sight when these festivals come around. Come, let me take you there!”

Before he could say anything, you had suddenly hooked your arm around his, which helped that his hands were still pocketed. You guided him over to the table, where he could see just what was happening. 

Seeing pink spiky hair, Kento could see, that Yuuji, the boy who signed him up for the class, took orders and money, while two other teenagers, a boy with black, spiky hair and a girl with a ginger bob, were handing out the orders to people, operating as fast as they could. Behind the three of them, there were three more, who all seemed to be getting all the inventory of stuff ready. Kento could see the wrapped-up donuts, tars, and even bottles of apple cider all being placed. 

“Wow,” he couldn’t help but say, “is it always so busy for you?”

You nodded your head, “yeah, this festival brings a lot of people from far and near, people who just want a glimpse within life here, people who used to live here coming back for a visit. It’s not a surprise for us, and even other places to be so busy.”

A whistle left his mouth as he continued to observe your booth, watching the flow of traffic flow. 

“Do you want me to introduce everyone to you, or do you want to go see the rest of the festival?”

He looked down at you, “don’t you think you should help them?” Once again, look at the line, “it’s a lot of people here.”

You waved off his concerns, “that’s what I pay them for, this isn’t their first rodeo.” 

The look of concern still must have not left Kento’s face because next you said, “but if it really does get hectic, then they all have my number, they can call me and we’ll come back running back.”

At that, Kento relaxed, and with that, you waved bye at your employees, before telling them to call you if things get too hectic for them. They all waved bye back at you, before focusing back on their work. The two of you soon intermingled with the crowd, walking side by side as you took him all around, showing off each and every booth, table, and open-doored business. 

“That’s Mrs. Prechitt,” you pointed to a lady who was selling pies while wearing… very interesting headwear. 

“Is that a pie on her head? Like an actual pie from the oven on her head?” Kento didn't think before speaking, the first thing he thought of was leaving his mouth. 

You muffled your giggles with your hand, but you nodded your head, “we tell her every year that it’s not safe, but every year she doesn’t listen. She does make a very mean peach pie though.” Your words were slowly overcome with laughter with every second as you could see the disgusted look on Kento’s face. 

Your other hand came up around his arm, holding yourself up as you laughed out loud. Kento looked down at your face, overcome with mirth, and felt warm, knowing that pink was staining his cheeks and it just wasn’t from the cold. With a sniffle, Kento saw as you picked yourself up, wiping your tears away with your gloved hands. Once you were composed, with no words, the two of you walked past her, waving at her as you did. Noticing you, her eyes brightened, waving back as the pie on her head moved with her head. 

“Let’s hope it won't fall on someone and cause third degree burns on someone,” Kento muttered, and you only shook your head, but continued to show him around the festival. 

While showing him around, your eyes landed on a booth selling funnel cake, and you felt your stomach lurch. The line, luckily, wasn’t too long, with Kento paying for your plate when the two of you waited in line for it. 

“You know I can pay for my own stuff, right?” you asked, grabbing a fork and a few napkins as he held your funnel cake in his hands. 

“I know.” is all he said, before handing you the funnel cake once you were situated. 

You looked up at him, smiling and shaking your head. A gentleman, he was, through and through, before the two of you continued walking, this time with your arms no longer hooked as you ate your funnel cake.  Still, through your bites, you showed him around the festival, telling him about each booth and how long they had been coming around. 

Lifting another piece of funnel cake on your fork, just about to go out in your mouth, before glancing at Kento who was looking ahead. Before you knew it, you were holding your fork close to his mouth, a piece of funnel cake slightly steaming.

“You want some,” you teased, your heart beginning to pace faster as you realized what you were doing. 

However, before you could pull it away, play it off as some kind of joke, Kento opened his mouth before pulling the piece of funnel cake off your fork and eating it. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, chewing on the piece, “not too bad, but it pales in comparison to what you could make.”

Your mouth fell open, looking at him, looking at, giving his own soft smile, before facing forward. Letting out a shaky breath, your brush with his sudden boldness caused heat to rise up your body. 

“Where’d all that come from,” you couldn’t help but ask, still trying to recover from the fact that his words and wink almost sent you squealing like a schoolgirl. 

Using your fork to cut another piece of funnel cake, only to hear Kento say, “just speaking the truth.”

Your truth is causing me heart palpitations, you thought to yourself, cutting another piece of your funnel cake with your fork, and eating it as well. Just as you were about to finish the last of your cake, your phone suddenly rang. 

You looked over at Kento, but you didn't have to say anything. You had to gently take your cake and fork out of your hands, giving you your napkin to wipe your hands clean of powdered sugar and oil as best as you could before fishing out your phone. Looking at the caller ID, eyes widening at the sight of Yuta being the one calling you.

“Hello, Yuta? Hey, what’s going on?” You answered, only to be met with a bunch of commotion over the line.

“Yeah, boss, you might wanna get down here. One of the customers threw a donut at Yuuji and now Mefumi is trying to hurt him, the rest of them can only hold him back for so long.”

Your eyes widened, “threw a donut?? at Yuuji??” 

You glanced over at Kento who looked stunned at what you said, before gesturing for him to follow you. The two of you made your way through the crowd, speed walking as much as you could without being rude as you pressed Yuta for more details. 

“Well, from what I heard from Nobara, before she went to hold Megumi back, that the guy ordered a donut, that’s what all three of them heard, but whenYuuji went to give it to him, the guy got into a fit, yelling that he ordered a tart. Yuuji tried to say he especially ordered a donut, but he wasn't having it. Megumi tried to step in, and that's when the donut was thrown, and now it's all chaos over here. Will you be here in time?”

Before you could say anything, you could suddenly hear loud rucks happening as you two got closer and closer to your booth, where a crowd was surrounding you. 

“I’m here,” is all you said to Yuta, before ending the call, telling people to move as politely as possible. 

However, a hand suddenly pulled you back, looking back and seeing Kento push ahead of you, before easily using his strength to push back the crowd, not even bothering to apologize, before leading you to the front to see the full extent of what happened. 

The first thing you notice is the absolute anger on Megumi’s face, as he struggles in his cousin's, and Nobara’s hold. Yuuju was standing beside them, along with Toge, who was trying his best to examine Yuuji’s eyes, which were covered but you could tell a bit of purplish coloring was beginning to bloom on his skin. Not too far from them, on the other side of the booth, was a short, stocky man with some sort of glee on his face, as if he took in some sick joy in the way Megumi was reacting. With him was a woman, who was recording everything, her words easily taunting Megumi, who only fell for it, his anger like a rushing angry tidal wave, and he couldn't wait to crash into the poor, unsuspecting people. 

Yut a was the first to notice you, “Boss!”

At those words, everyone turned, only to see you coming in behind Kento, “What is going on?!” Your voice is loud, and angry, with your hands at your sides.

However, before any of your kids could say anything, a camera was suddenly shoved in front of your face, the flash causing you to hiss as the bright light dulled your vision, spots entering into your vision. Your hand came up, trying to push away whoever this was, and you could barely comprehend the fact that she was suddenly talking about you and your “effectiveness over your employees,” when her words suddenly ceased. 

Blinking, allowing your eyes to adjust as you suddenly saw Kento standing right in front of you, holding the woman’s arm, with an angry glare on his face, “watch where you’re pointing that camera,” as all he said, before shoving her back slightly. 

“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that–” However the man’s words were cut short by Kento’s icy glare, the man stopping in his tracks, swallowing whatever he was gonna say next. 

The immediate area around you all was silent, all eyes on Kento as he crossed his arms, before speaking, “Now, what happened?”

All at once, everyone began to speak, not allowing anyone else to even speak. You could barely hear a word, when suddenly Kento raised his hand, and just like that, everyone went silent. He took a deep breath, before opening his eyes, before looking over at your kids.

“Can one of you say what happened, only one, please?” he said.

Walking closer, only see Maki slowly let go of Megumi before taking a step closer, taking a breath before explaining everything that happened. She also heard the guy order a donut, her hearing a bit better than the two guys in the back doing inventory with her. She saw the commotion and went to intervene when she saw the guy throw the donut at Yuuji. 

When Maki said that, Kento turned towards the guy, who was now fidgeting, sweating, as if it wasn’t going as he expected it at all to go down.

“Did anyone else hear this man order a donut as well?”

Looking around, your eyes widened at the sight of the few hands, most of whom were at the front of the line, all raising their hands as well. Kento then turned his glare back onto the stocky man, who jumped the moment he was looking at him, 

“You’re gonna tell me all these people were lying about you ordering a donut?” Is all Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man began to stutter, “we…well, I mean, I mean no, but–,” but he was effectively cut off by Kento picking up this man easily with one hand.

Your eyes widened as he dropped the man right in front of Yuuji, whose eyes were wide-eyed in surprise as well, “apologize to him, now!”

“I’m… I’m sorry!” the short man yelped out, tears of fear streaming down his face. 

You couldn't help but take a glance at his wife, who was no longer recording, but instead shaking with fear at the sight of her husband. A bit of noise cut your attention behind you when suddenly two officers came through the crowd. Immediately recognized one of them as Yuuji’s older half-brother, who was very overprotective of said boy. Choso’s eyes scanned through before his eyes landed on his brother, seeing his eye, which was now slowly turning a dark purple. 

“Yuuji? What happened?” He called out, rushing over to be by his brother's side.

Everything happened within a blur, with Choso’s partner taking you and everyone else’s statement while Choso was too busy lamenting over his brother and arresting the couple. You let out a breath of relief as they rushed away, with Nobara and Megumi immediately going to take Yuuji to Ieiri, who had her own clinic booth in case of emergencies somewhere around the festival. 

Letting out a long breath, running your fingers over your face, and rubbing at your temples. Stress. This was all too stressful, with everything weighing upon you like a ton of bricks. With your uncle’s sudden arrival two days ago, and now your employee– your kid had an injured eye from an agitated “customer” . If you could even call them that, they were trying to write you off before they had even spoken to you. Your legs began to tetter, feeling yourself begin to sway back and forth. 

However, a force suddenly came up right beside you, arms coming up, and wrapping themselves around you, holding you up. Moving your hands, only to see concerned brown eyes staring down at you, Kento’s eyes were soft, not like in the frigid glare he had just adorned on his face.

“Are you alright,” his voice was quiet, as he guided you over to the closest chair at your booth. 

You nodded your head, taking your seat, “yes, I am, I just couldn't handle seeing Yuuji hurt like that. Oh god,” you groaned, remembering the conversation you had with Kento just before you left the booth

“You were right, I should have never left the booth,” you said, covering your face with your hands once again. 

Suddenly, you felt much bigger hands coming around them, pulling them away from your face. Kento looked at you, a smile on his face.

“You couldn’t have predicted an irate man with no sense or rationality to come and attack them like that. I didn’t even predict that, I was only concerned about the amount of work, and you were right in the fact that they could handle it.”

His hands enveloped yours, feeling his gloved thumbs rub into your own, “let’s not let this ruin our night, okay?”

His words elated you, a smile slowly appearing on your face as you nodded, before pushing yourself to your two feet. You dusted yourself off, wiping away the two tears that had begun to fall onto your face. Turning around facing Yuta, Maki, and Toge, telling them to continue pushing the inventory and that you’ll take care of the front. You moved to the front, only to see an off-white overcoat joining you as well. You and Kento smiled at each other, before turning to face the line that had begun to grow again the moment it seemed your booth was back in business. 

It was only an hour and thirty minutes, give or take, when you would fully run out of inventory. With that, Yuta deconstructed the booth, while Toge placed the boxes you brought them in the wagons you brought.

“The two of you should get out of here, the three of us can handle this,” Maki said, standing in between the two of you.

You turned towards her, shaking your head, “no, Maki, the three of you are my responsibility, I should have never left you alone–” but she cut you off.

“Don’t let that asshole ruin the plans you had tonight,” she cut through your words, shaking your head.

“We got this, plus Megumi texted me, Shoko patched Yuuji up and Kamo took him home, so he’s fine, and they’re on their way back. We’ll have more help,” she continued, before glancing over your shoulder, where Kento was most likely standing.

“It’s not everyday someone like him comes, you want him to experience everything, if you know what I mean,” she suddenly winked, nudging you.

You let out a gasp, smacking her on the arm, “I do not want to hear that from you, Maki!” 

She threw her head back in laughter, before telling you one last time to enjoy your night, before walking away to join Yuta and Toge in cleaning up. You watched as the three of them interacted, working together, smiling at them before turning around, and seeing Kento walking up to you.

Smiling, you held out your arm, “you got time for one more destination?”

Kento looked over at the three of them, before looking back at you, before giving off a soft smile and hooking his arms with you once again. You lead him away, towards your last destination of the night. He watched as the crowd slightly densified as he looked ahead, seeing a familiar warm glow get closer and closer. 

Before he knew it, you found yourself underneath the Bonfire’s glowing light, surrounded by many others, couples all wrapped with each other. Sultry, soulful music played through the loudspeakers as people handed out glasses of champagne, low voices whispered underneath music as Kento and you entered right back into the middle of the square, completely transformed from when he first arrived. Glowing lights were hanging across from the streetlight. 

The two of you soon entered from a corner, you two watched, sipping on two glasses of complimentary champagne as everything around you swayed, the people moving like waves in the ocean. 

“I remember one year when we came, and my parents escaped after a little but,” you began to reminisce, mixing into the crowd, “my grandmother was cleaning up, and needed help but told me not to bother them and find someone else.”

Kento’s eyes widened as he looked over at you, watching a wistful look in your eye as you stared ahead at the crowd. Interested, he watched as you began to sway up and down, on the tips of your toes, the sweet alcohol in your glass swirling within your hands. 

“However, I didn’t listen and went to go and find them,” you recounted that day as well as you could count to five on one hand.

“I slipped past the adults, and came here and found them slow dancing, right about there,” you pointed out to a certain area, where there happens to be another couple dancing right there. 

“My mom’s head was on my dad’s shoulders, and her eyes were closed, and my dad was looking straight ahead, yet would glance at my mom every so often, and his smile would get bigger every time he did so.” You reminisced, taking another sip of your sparkling wine.

 “That day, I stood there and watched them for over at least ten minutes, before I remembered that my grandmother needed help, and went over there to get them. I was a little scared that they were going to be mad. I interrupted their dance, but luckily they weren’t.”

Your smile was wide, but a bittersweet one, the memories of your parents before their demise weighing heavily upon you. The two of you were already standing pretty close, but he couldn't help but take another step towards, fully closing the gap between you. An idea suddenly spurred within him, swinging the last of his champagne, before placing it on the brick hedge wall not too far from you before placing his hand out.

“Dance with me, please?” His cheeks were bright pink, and he almost stuttered on the word “dance”, but still, he watched as your eyes widened, but still he saw that bittersweet smile turn genuine, before placing your glass down, before placing your gloved hand into his own. 

He cleared his throat, using his other hand to cover his mouth as he led you underneath the glowing LED lights, standing close enough to the fire so he could feel its radiating warmth, but not too close for him to consider it to be a hazard. His already pink cheeks deepened in color the moment he felt your hand slide up his chest, before resting right on his shoulder. His right hand slid around your waist, and then your two free hands intertwined, fingers locking together.

At first, it was all silent between the two of you, but the two of you were locked eyes, unable to look away from each other. He tried to keep his heart under control, but Kento knew he couldn’t the more he looked into your eyes, which steadily glowed with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. His heartbeat only quickened when you suddenly gave him a smile, before suddenly placing your head right on his chest, looking down. 

“Your heart is beating really fast, Kento,” you whispered, but he could still hear you loud and clear, “do I make you nervous?” you asked him, slightly breathless, looking back up at him, your head still lying against his chest. 

His heart jumped at the sudden eye contact, and he suddenly found his throat dry, but his body language did all the speaking for him, watching as a giggle left your lips. You shifted your head, now only resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, still swaying against the beat of the music. 

“I’m really glad I met you, Kento,” you mumbled, suddenly letting go of his hand, him watching as you slid the hand that rested on his shoulder around his waist, your other hand joining you. 

With a now free hand, tentatively, it joined his other hands at your waist, suddenly pulling the two of you closer. He could feel your bosom pressing up against him, as well as every breath you took. 

“I’m glad I met you too,” he spoke back, just as quietly as you.

And for a moment, he couldn’t take in anything but the two of you, as if you two were the only ones here. He couldn’t hear the music, he couldn't smell the faint burning wood of the bonfire, he could no longer feel the bite of Jack Frost’s winter brushing against his skin, nothing. All he could hear was your heartbeat, which was pacing as fast or maybe even faster than his own. All he could smell was you, the fairness of red currant, and cinnamon, radiant and decadent, all-consuming. All he could feel was heat, not from the bonfire, but from within, pulsating heat that spread throughout his body, heat that was controlled by every time you touched him, looked at him and even spoke to him. 

He took another look at you, his final confirmation for the budding feeling within him, the bud that grew into an almost blossoming rose, and in so little time as well. Well, who could blame him? As one of his hands suddenly reached up, caressing at your cheek, your eyes slowly widening yet, you snuggled into the warmth of his glove. Despite the barrier between you two, he could still feel it. Tentatively, he began to bring your face closer to him, with you slowly pressing yourself up on the tips of your toes. 

And then he felt it, the feeling of sticky pressure against his lips, and it felt like fireworks went off within him. Your hands slid into his short, blonde hair, keeping him in place as the kiss deepened. You tasted sweet, powdered sugar, pancakes, cinnamon, and fermented sweet grapes as well. While sweet, it was not the temporary taste of what you ate that urged him, that spurred him to continue to kiss you. It was your underlying essence underneath it that kept him wanting more of you. Slowly, he got addicted, his other hand leaving your waist, coming up to the other side of your face, keeping you right where he wanted you.

He almost crumbled at the sweet moan that left your lips, as it was readily swallowed by the kiss. Kento could feel his lungs screaming at him, yet he couldn't find any other reason to let go. However, his reprieve yet disappointment was met as he felt you slowly let go of his lips. The two of you were heavy with breath, heaving as the two of you stared at each other, both of your eyes glancing in between each other’s eyes and lips. 

“We…” he heard you start, your voice as breathless as his own, “we should…”

You could not continue your words, but yet, he felt your hand slide right on top of his own, which still rested on your waist, before guiding it down, making him rest on your bottom. He already guessed what you were talking about, and that action pushed him into further action. It was much like out of a fairytale, the way he held you close as he whisked you away. Before he knew it, he was entering the corridor of his inn, his temporary place of living much closer than the orchard. His hand fished for his key as he pulled you up to the sole elevator. The moment the doors closed, the two of you were right back onto each other like the way two perfectly fitted and formed puzzle pieces. 

“Kento,” you gasped, as you suddenly jumped, your dress crumpling up around your waist, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you up with ease.

He pressed you up against the wall of the elevator, his lips almost immediately ravishing your own as the metal box slowly lifted up, taking you and him to the floor of his room. The bright light of the elevator allowed him to gaze upon your face fully. He watched the desperation, your desperation fully blooming on your face as you kissed him once again. Said desperation was shared between said kiss, his body, and your own moving in tandem. Your hips ground into him, against the erection that pressed up against his slacks. 

Then a ding interrupted him, before hearing the door rumbling. Quickly, he felt your legs drop down from his waist, but you intertwined your hands with him before he pulled you through the door, his steps quick and brisk as he led you down the hallway. The hallway lights were dimmed to accommodate those who were sleeping, the creme walls and with the dark brown wood lining up at the bottom, gave the inn a sterile feeling, but it didn’t matter. Turning a brisk right, his free hand digging into his pocket, before pulling out the key that led into his room. However, his excitement and his hands shaking suddenly caused him to drop it, just before he could put the key into the doorknob. 

He bent down, but before he could pick it up, your hand came around, slowly picking it up, and holding it in front of him. Taking steps, using your waist to bump him out the way over so slightly, before grabbing the doorknob, putting the key in, and slowly unlocking the door. The moment the door swung open, it was like he pounced upon you like a wild animal. His hands wrapped around you, a slight gasp in the form of his name leaving your mouth before sweet giggles followed as well. His foot kicked the door closed the moment he entered the dark room. 

He dropped you right on the bed, before climbing onto you, enveloping your lips into a new, electrifying kiss. Your arms and hands came up, wrapping around his neck and shoulders before pulling him closer. Kento cracked in between your legs, the tightness of his pants pressing up against your panties. He could feel the dampness against the fabric, as his hands slowly slid up your sides, feeling every single curve and crevice within your body. His thumbs pressed girls right on your pelvis, while your hands slid from his back, sliding underneath his jacket, before slowly pushing the heavy fabric off of him. For a moment, Kento let go of the kiss, heavy breaths echoing into the otherwise empty room. He allowed you to push the jacket fully off him, revealing his button-down shirt. His hands moved towards your own jacket, your back arching as he pulled the jacket off you as well, before throwing it into an obscure corner. 

 “Kento,” you gasped again, “is this… is this a bad idea?”

He leaned back down, feeling your hands slide up his chest, before resting on his shoulders. Your foreheads touched, and for a moment, the two of you said nothing, just staring into each other's eyes. A flurry of emotions within your eyes, most of them he could not decode, yet the one that he could was need, and desire. 

With nothing else in exchange, it was like the two of you made your realizations at the same time, jumping on each other at the same time. Kento’s hands grabbed at your waist, before pulling you up, sitting up on his bed, and placing you in his lap. Your hands ran over his wrinkled shirt, before your manicured fingers fumbled away at his buttons, slowly unbuttoning it while still locked into your kiss. A groan erupted from Kento’s throat as you pressed up against his clothed hard-on in a certain manner. It rumbled through him, and he could feel your body shake through the aftermath as well.

Your eyes drifted down at the sight in front of you, eyes fluttering, your mouth almost drooling at him. Although his shirt was only half down, you could see his muscles bulging from his shirt the moment you flung his jacket off of him. What… What were you doing? It had been long, too long since you’ve been this close with a man. Especially one that made you feel… as coveted as you felt with Kento. In so little time, you’d been wrapped within him, in every sense of the way. The moment you peeled back his shirt, seeing his chest and arm hair peeking from the shirt, it was like something fully awakened within you. 

Letting go of the kiss, your hands fumbling with his shirt, desperate to open it to its fullest. Your foreheads pressed against each other, heavy pants leaving your mouths as you felt his larger fingers pull at the stretchy material of your dress, feeling cool against your legs as he slowly pulled up the garment as best as he could. Before you knew it, you were in your bra and panties, while he was half-naked. Your hands then moved to his pants, fiddling at the belt, the metal clanking into the room. Once the zipper was down, Kento lifted himself up, helping you take his pants off before watching as you threw them across the room. 

He took you right back into his arms, before pressing the two of you right into the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. You could feel his hard-on, pressing up against the thin fabric of boxers, aching to be released from its entrapment. Your hands fidgeting, you want to put them everywhere, his hair, on his face, you want to create crimson streaks against his back as he ground himself into you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and your moans were swallowed up once again by the kiss. The Kento above you was different from the one you’ve experienced, he was just as desperate as you, in fact, it was even more desperate than you. You could feel every needling emotion in his kisses. You wished to say that it was inexperienced deprivation but–

You let out a particularly loud moan, still muffled by the kiss,  as you felt his fingers press up against your clothed clit, his two fingers slowly rubbing circles against it, ever so carefully. Letting go of the kiss, watching his face as he stared down at you, his usually kind but tired eyes showing off that same depravity you felt within his kiss. His fingers continued to tease you, and you could feel just how soaked his fingers were becoming even with the fabric barrier. 

“Kento,” you let out a breathy moan, only watching him as his fingers hooked underneath the damp fabric. 

“So beautiful,” his breath was hot, as he let you go from the kiss, before feeling his lips beginning to press up against your cheek. 

As he began to trail down, you could feel his fingers pull the cloth aside, letting out a pant as cool air brushed up against your soaked cunt. Kento let go of your panties, before pressing two of his fingers in between your lips, slowly beginning to press circles within your pussy, his hands skilly sliding in between your folds and your clit. Your hands flew up, grabbing at his naked shoulders, feeling the hairs that grew out of his chest brush up against you as he slowly lowered himself with every kiss. His kisses felt as if they revered you, that familiar desperation only riling you up further. His kisses were now to your breasts, kisses in between the valley, still trapped within their confines. With his free hand, his hand slides behind you, feeling his fingers adeptly unhooking your black lace bra. The lingerie slowly fell from your shoulders, your hands reaching up as much as you could to allow him to take it off of you, also throwing it onto the floor. 

The moment his lips wrapped themselves around your nipple he also slipped two fingers inside of you. A loud gasp-like moan left your mouth, your back arching against the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, a hefty groan leaving his mouth, muffled by your breast. You could feel his tongue licking and sucking away at your nipple, while his fingers moved and out of you. It was delicious, how he finger-fucked you carefully. Receiving pleasure from two bouts of ways, an unrelenting euphoric sensation. You were soaked, hearing the wet smacking sounds echoing in the room, along with the sound of Kento’s sucking at your nipple.

“So– oh my god,” your voice cut through itself, feeling the pads of his fingers pressing up within you, right up against your spot. 

Your eyes were squeezed closed and yet, even with that, you could still feel the intensity of Kento’s eyes right on you. Soon enough, he let go, cool air breezing up against your wet nipple, before moving his attention to the second nipple. At the same time, a gargled moan left your lips as you felt his thumb press up against your clit once more, pushing up against it before rubbing even deeper circles against it. You could feel him groaning and humming against your breast, rumbles sending euphoric shockwaves within you. His thick fingers stretched you open, slipping in and out of your sopping pussy, your juices dripping all over his hand and your inner thighs. 

Slowly opening your eyes, suddenly feeling him let go of your second nipple, cold air hardening them even further. Bending your head down, feeling wet kisses against your wet skin as he trailed down from your breasts towards your stomach. Something within you began to jerk as he got close and closer to your cunt, your breath getting heftier as he pressed soft kisses up against your pelvis as he slowly pulled his drenched fingers out of your pussy. Lining them up with his lips, you watched as your tongue slipped out of his mouth, before licking up your slick, religion in the taste. 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your mouth, “ooh, so nasty,” you teased, sticking your own tongue out of your mouth. 

Kento glanced up at you, your playful smile widening as you saw his pink blush darken into a more vermillion red. Suddenly, you let out a shriek as you felt your body being dragged down, Kento suddenly dropping onto the floor of his room. Your legs were suddenly bent backward, another squeal leaving your mouth as you felt your body suddenly being bent in half, stretching almost past its limits. You glanced around, seeing your knees above you, and seeing the tips of Kento’s finger grabbing at the back of your thighs, pressing into you.

“Kento? What are you doi–” Your words were cut off by an immense pressure up against your clit and cunt. 

Your hands grabbed at the messy sheets and blankets underneath, trying to stabilize yourself as Kento’s wet muscle slipped in between your folds, and your clit as well. your body jerking underneath his actions, back arching up against the bed. Your moans echoed across the room, your head straining to look down at the way his head bobbed into between your legs. Kento licked and sucked away at you like a man deprived of all food, you could feel his lips suck away at your clit, before his tongue moved into your hole. It was like your moans and the wet smacks only spurred him on further. 

“Kento,” you moaned his name, toes curling while still in the air. 

You tried your best to grind against his face, but his grip on you but you still, all you could do was squirm while he ate away at you. Letting out a mixture of a breath and gasp as Kento slowly relaxed your body, letting your lower back slowly rest upon the bed once more. Through all of that, he didn’t let up, multitasking as he kneeled on the floor. With your back resisting on the bed once more, it gave you free rein to grind and buck your hips against his face, feeling the large tip of his nose bumping up against your clit,  inciting you even further. The long-familiar band of tightness begins to build within you. Your cries began to pitch, higher and higher, going up octaves as you felt a sense of convulsions beginning to overtake you. Kento did nothing, your actions not deterring him as he ravished you further and further. 

“So good, you’re so good, Kento– fuck!” you squealed as your hips bucked up into the air, against his face harsher than normal. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna–” you cut out, “I’m coming, fuck–” It was your only warning towards him as you let out prolonged cries.

With your last words, you felt the band that stretched within you snap, your back arching into the area as your juices spilled from your cunt. They would have hushed out for you, if not for the unsated man who placed himself in between your legs. He lapped away at your slick, a groan leaving his lips as he succumbed to your taste, your scent in full. 

Lifting your head up, watching as he slowly lifted his own from you, the two of you locking eyes. His lips and the surrounding area were wet, wet with your cum. With shaky hands and arms, you pushed yourself up, watching as he slowly crawled back up to the bed, back towards you. Like a predator, a high-strung predator, and is ready to catch its short-winded prey. At the same time, you began to crawl back, giving him just enough space to place his body up onto the bed once more. Kento soon towered over you, his hair damp with sweat, falling down in front of his face as his hands were at either side of you. 

For a moment, you two just watched each other. You could feel how much your heart raced at this moment, the organ beating even faster as Kenot lowered himself towards you, easing both you and himself into a soft kiss. Your hands came up around his face, caressing him and holding him in place once more. As you kissed you, you could feel Kento’s hands begin to move, to put things in place for the two of you. Not wanting to just lay here, you released his face, before moving your hands down his front, before messing with the thick, elastic band of his boxers. You could hear Kento’s breath hitch as you did so.

Glancing up at him, your eyes shining with concern, “Is this… is this okay?” your voice filled with trepidation because the last thing you wanted was to push him past his brink.

Kento looked down at you, before nodding his head, “it’s perfect, don’t worry.”

His hands were back onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs back as you pulled down the rest of his boxers, his dick springing out from its confines. You shuddered, squirming as his cock slapped up against your stomach, your eyes widening a little at the sheer size of it. However, you made it this far, and no matter what, you knew that you wanted this. With a burst of new confidence, you wrapped your hands around him, before guiding his angry, brown tip toward your cunt

“Fu–” your words cut out into a high-pitched, pain-filled moan as you slowly pressed him inside of you. 

Above you, you could hear Kento letting out sharp hisses and pants, his hips slowly moving, as if he was holding himself back. Your free hand reached out, grabbing his arm, gripping at it as you felt him stretching you out further and further. 

“Baby, baby wait, slow down, I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was only a murmur, trembling at the way you stretched around him. 

Yet, you shook your head, wanting to take more of him, wanting all of him inside of you, inside of your pussy. However, Kento’s hands reached down grabbing your hand, guiding him inside of you, before pinning you up. His heavyweight and stretch only caused you to squirm, your body thrashing as you felt his hips slowly push in and out of you. 

“Kento–” Each movement left you out of breath, unable to speak anything but his name in those moments.

“I need you to relax for me,” he grunted, sweat dripping down from his forehead, “so fucking tight–” 

You took deep breaths, trying your best to relax, it had been so long for you since you’d had sex, it was basically like losing your virginity all over again. Kento soon bent down, a long moan escaping from your mouth as his action pushed further into you, yet you could feel his forehead pressing up against you.

“That’s it, baby, just relax, for me,” he continued, his voice low and calm. 

With a snap of his hips, and a gargled moan leaving your lips, everything within you just skyrocketed. A high-pitched moan left your mouth, and you could feel Kento beginning to pick up the pace. Your hands still pinned against the bed, could do nothing but watch him, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist, keeping him closer as he bucked into you. 

“Oh. Oh!” you let out, ecstasy rushing within your veins, feeling his fat tip press up against your spongy walls. 

“Doing so good for me, baby,” he mumbled, “taking me so fucking well too.”

Hearing Kento curse only caused your pleasure to skyrocket, a man as seemingly put-together as him slipping into dirty words. After a few moments, he let go of your hands, his own hands falling onto your waist, squeezing and holding onto his as his hips began to slam into you. A loud cry and your hands found themselves around his own waist, holding onto him as closely as possible. You writhed underneath him, your pussy sopping and drenching his cock, the wet smacks echoing into the room once more. 

“Fuck–” you whimpered, “harder, fuck me harder, Kento please–” you gasped, your eyes rolling to the back.

Your words urged him, and he let out a loud string of moans as he pummeled into you. More and more, deeper and deeper, you fell into him. Already, you fell for him, his strength, his calmness, like the calm oceans of tropical beaches, yet at this moment, he was a torrent, a tsunami, and you were ready for him to swallow you whole. All throughout, the familiar tight band, now expanded, began building within you once again. 

“Kento,” you stretched out his name, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck—” 

“You can let go, baby, don’t worry,” he whispered, his hands squeezing the fat and muscle around your waist. 

“Come for me.”

With his final command, you let out a shriek before feeling your cum spill out of you. Your nails dug into his back as your juices spilled all over you, on your inner thighs and even on your abdomen, as well as his dick, and stomach as well. The moment you came all over him, it was like his thrust became sporadic, thrusting within you aimlessly. His grunts and groans became louder and louder within your ear. Suddenly, he let out a lasting moan on his lips as you glanced down, seeing white cum spilling from his tips, landing right on your stomach. 

Nothing but the sounds of the two of you breathing, your neck straightening, resting right on his pillow once more. Slowly, you could feel the weight above moving off of you, opening your eyes to see a light in the corner of your eye.

Pushing yourself up, you looked at the light emitting from the bathroom connected to the inn room, seeing Kento’s shadow moving about within the bathroom. Suddenly, you heard water being turned on, out of a bathtub faucet, hitting against the porcelain. Slowly, you pushed yourself up, ignoring the icky feeling of Kento’s essence dripping down the front of your body. Approaching the bathroom, peeking into the cracked door, only to be met with steam slowly emitting from the bathroom door. 

You opened the crack a little more, only to jump at the creaking sound of the door. Watching as Kento turned his head, seeing you peeking through the door. He turned, in all his naked glory, before telling you to come in. Smiling, you walked in, your arms wrapped up around yourself as you walked up to the bathtub filled to the brim with hot water. Standing next to him, glancing at him as he prepared your hot bath to clean yourself from your activities. Titling your head, allowing yourself to lean against his arm. A moment passed… before feeling Kento’s arm lift up, the one you leaned on, before wrapping itself around your waist, pulling you closer, your smile widening. 

Once the tub was filled, Kento slowly led you inside the bathtub, allowing you to sit right on top of him as the two of you cleaned off the sweat and bodily fluids from your guys’ activities. With a sigh, you relaxed as you felt Kento’s large hands take a clean rag, before dragging it all over your body. 

You’ve never felt this… rejuvenated after a night of passion like this. As you glanced up at Kento's, whose focus was on making sure your body was cleaned up, you couldn't help but think about… what was to come for the future. Was this… was this only a one-time thing for him…? The seeds of doubt were already planted within your mind, after all, this man lived tens if not hundreds of miles away from you. He was here on business, and here you are, in his inn room… You took a deep breath, pressing your back into his front, feeling him place the bag onto the edge of the tub before tentatively wrapping his arms around your waist. 

For now… for however long, you’ll enjoy this, you’ll enjoy him… as Maki said, It’s not every day someone like him comes, you want him to experience everything.

Kento was a changed man. 

As he walked beside you, the day after, your hands barely grazed each other as you walked down the empty path. The town was quiet, recovering from the festivities from last night. He could see the lingering smoke from the bonfire as the workers continued to final parts of the cleanup. As the sun rose into the sky, reaching into the late morning, Kento woke up, hair an absolute mess, room scattered with both his and your clothes strewn everywhere, and with you wrapped around him, happily sleeping away. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the memories of last night came at him in full force as well. He could feel every little movement you made while your soft snores sounded off throughout the room. How you curled into him. usually, sex… it was a chore, something that only caused him more stress than to relive it. Yesterday, it changed everything for him, a strong connection in so little time. 

He wanted more.

Originally, he was supposed to be meeting his client, the actual reason for him being in this town. Yet, the moment he met you, he almost completely forgot about that until he saw the notification appear at the top of his phone the moment he woke up. 

“Would you like a tour of the orchard?” Your voice suddenly cut in through the comfortable silence as you shimmied back into your clothes from last night. 

Kento blinked, before swiftly turning his head towards you, “really? A tour? What for?”

You shrugged your head, “maybe I just want to spend more time with you, or maybe I just want to.”

He looked over at you as you shimmied into your dress, as he began to turn around, something within him pulling, something tugging away at his heart. lifting his arms,  He wanted to go, something within pushed him to go, he wanted to walk side by side with you as you introduced him to everything you hold dear to your heart. He wished to see your smile in full force as he took a closer look at tall trees bearing the pomme fruit with you. However, the thoughts of his prior engagement came to him, he was a man of his word, and he knew the tour would cut into the time of his meeting, the reason why he was here. 

“Unfortunately,” he could see the light in your eyes slowly fade as you explained his impending meeting within the next hour and a half, and something within him died inside at the spur of your disappointment. 

However, a sudden buzzing within his hands caught his attention, he would have ignored it, but his eyes caught onto the notification, realizing that the notification was from the man he was holding the meeting with. 

R.H : Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it to my meeting. Is it possible to reschedule?

Usually, this kind of thing would irritate him, anger him really. Kento had half a mind to kick this man to the curb and not bother with the possible investment. However, he took a glance over at you, the sun shining brightly behind your form, heat rising within him before looking back down at his phone.

This wasn't him, this was out of character for him, yet, everything lined up and clicked within his head. 

Kento: That's fine, we can meet up tomorrow at the same time.

With that, he shut his phone before facing you, “it seems my prior engagement needed to be rescheduled, and now I’m free for the day.” 

Your eyes widened, and your smile appeared on your face, “then… we should get going huh? Mr. Nanami?” you winked, teasing him with his last name

“I remembered telling you to call me Kento,” he stated.

The wind blew in between the leaves of the trees, carrying the smell of each apple as he continued down the path with you. His hands were in his pockets as the two of you engaged in conversation about the history of the Orchard. Kento could see it in your eyes, just how much you loved and cared for this place. You saw almost each and every tree being planted here, whether as a baby, teen, or adult. 

When the two of you arrived at the Orchard, you two were suddenly greeted by Yuuji, who still had his wide smile, even with bandages around his eye, padded with gauze, and Megumi, the black-spiky-haired boy who was in rage seeing Yuuji being hurt like that last night. Kento took a glance down at you, seeing your eyes shine with a multitude of emotions, confusion as to why they were here, happiness to even see them, and also sadness, especially when your eyes laid upon Yuuji’s impromptu injury. 

“Nanamin!” Yuuji waved at the two of you, while the boy, whose name Kento later learned was Megumi, only stood there, keeping his eyes on the two of you.

“Yuuji, you spelled and said his name wrong, there’s no ‘n’ at the end of his name,” you pointed out, crossing his arms.

“Eh?” Yuuji froze for a minute, Megumi calling him an “idiot” before softly tapping him on the back of his head. 

“Sorry! I must have misheard you!” Yuuji sheepishly apologized, a wavering smile on his face. 

Kenot held his hands up, shaking his head,, “no need.”

Megumi’s eyes shifted between the two of you, before focusing on the cart that Kento was holding for you. He insisted on pulling it while you walked to the Orchard. 

“What are the two of you doing here? I thought I sent you two and the rest home for the weekend! You’re not needed here,” you started, stepping closer to him.

“The rest of them went to the city, and we didn’t feel like going so we thought we’d come back here!” 

“He dragged me here, because he forgot that you gave us the weekend off. '' Megumi deadpanned, his arms crossed. 

Kento’s heart lifted at the dynamic between the two boys, watching as Yuuji sulked underneath Megumi’s words. He took a moment to glance at them as well, only seeing that same soft, faraway look and smile on your face as well. After a moment, the two of them looked over at the two of you again, glancing in between you.

“Say, since the Orchard is closed… Why is Nanamin even here?”

It seems Yuuji wouldn't let go of the misspelling, now using it as some kind of nickname for Kento. 

“Uuuuh,” you started, glancing over at Kento.

Megumi used that moment to take a closer look at you, glancing over at Kento, before his eyes widened, before a slight look of disdain appeared on his face, before taking a step back from the two of you. 

“...we ran into each other in town, and I wanted to give him a tour of the place, while he was here.”

He felt something impalpable jump within him the moment he felt your hands graze gains the roughness of his own. Kento saw you shaking your head, before pointing to the main house. 

“In the storage closet in the classroom, there’s a bunch of packages that Toge and Yuta were supposed to unpack, since you're here now, you can do that for them. After that, I don’t care what you do, just be safe when you’re doing it. I’ll add the extra overtime to your next checks.” The two boys nodded, with Yuuji giving you a salute before heading towards the back of the house where the packages were located. 

Kento gave the two boys a quick goodbye as well, when they disappeared behind the house, he followed right after you. Once inside the house, following you towards the kitchen once more, Kento spoke first. 

“They seem like really great kids,” he started, glancing over at you, seeing how much you smiled when you thought about your two employees.

“Yeah, they are. Everyone who works here is amazing… you know, Megumi used to live here too.”

His eyebrows worked as the image of the solemn, quiet boy appeared in his head, “really?”

You nodded your head, as the two of you reached the front door of the Main House, “yeah, his dad was the first employee ever hired here, and they needed a place to stay so my grandmother let them. They moved out when I returned from college,” you stated, swinging open the or after unlocking it. 

All around him, he smelled you all around, dissipated and deconcentrated, but it still smelled of you. 

“Sit down, and let me change my clothes, and then we’ll come and take the tour.

You pointed towards the couch, which he dutifully sat at before watching you go into the kitchen where he waited for you to change out of the clothes from yesterday. As he waited, he took a moment to look around the welcoming area further, leaning back against the couch and its cushions. The backlights that lit up the menu behind the desk were off, and the desk was empty, void of any life. All through the floors were dark cherry wood like the rest of the house, it was covered by a red carpet, mixed with other colors such as sandy beige and black, with different geometric shapes designed in thin it as well. He lifted his head, taking a glance at the walls, and remembered the copious amounts of books sitting on the shelves. Reaching out to the one closest to him, he grabbed one of the books. 

“Alice in wonderland…” he mumbled, taking a moment to flip through the worn and torn book. 

A few pages in he noticed scribbling handwriting within the margins of said book, seeing notes concerning how much this person disdained the Mad Hatter, your childish scribbles, seeing your name at the end of them. He smiled, as he thought of you, a little you, possibly reading this book, sitting on this very same couch. 

Suddenly, the sound of the door flying open took away his attention as he saw you walking through the doorway. Your hair was now all up in a high ponytail, and you were wearing a full brown velvet tracksuit, with your hands tucked in your pockets as you walked over to him. 

“What are you holding?” You asked, leaning over to read the title. 

“Originally, I was interested in the story, but I found the scribblings within the margins to be much more interesting.”

Standing closer to him, as he opened the book, your eyes widened as they landed on your rambles as a child. You let out a laugh, embarrassed as you reached out, gently taking the book from his hands.

“I had a lot of thoughts about this book,” is all you said, flipping through the book, before closing it. 

Closing the book, before placing it on the shelf, before turning towards him and clapping your hands together, “shall we? I want to get a few things from the kitchen, and I'll need your help.”

With no other words, your hands grazed together as you led him to the back of the house. Standing in the main kitchen, walking past the containers filled with pastries ready for the grand opening of your cafe. You told him to pick a few, to have while you take him on the tour. Kento had an idea that you don't usually do this, but he couldn't complain, not when the apple donuts and apple custard tarts were calling his name once again. Kento already accepted the possibility of him getting a cavity the more he spent time in this Orchard. 

He helped you wrap the pastries in pretty, red-checkered with little apples in between them parchment paper, before putting them in the basket. At first, you wanted to carry it, but he demanded that he carry the basket, not budging as the two of you used the back door, going down the steps to enter the grove of trees. 

That’s how the two of you found yourselves, deep into the trees, while you told him the history behind the Orchard while telling him what apple each tree around him grew. The fact that you knew, barely looking at the apples currently growing, and didn’t even look at the signs posted near them. As he stood in the midst of them he felt himself transformed, the wind blowing between the leaves reminding him similarly of his grandmother’s. A bitter smile appeared on his face, his eyes on the browning leaves that slowly dropped with the turning of the season. 

You lead him further and further into the orchard, the density in between trees getting tighter and tighter every step. The already-faraway sun getting further and further away, the trees soon began to cover whatever light that could seep in. However, ahead he could see some semblance of what seems to be a clearing. His eyes narrowed, unable to make out exactly what he was seeing until the two of you arrived at the entrance. 

It was like a little paradise, with a small pond, with its own little waterfall as well, he could see little fishes swimming within it as well. There were marble benches not too far from the pond, each one having its own intricate designs, each of them different from the other as well. However, what really caught his eye was the gazebo, which was a bit away from the pond, but not too far. His eyes then went to the trees surrounding the little pond clearing and noticed how different they were from the other apple trees. Then, he saw the familiar red-purplish fruit hanging off the leaves. He looked over at you, seeing you approach one of the trees, reaching up before taking one of the many pomegranates off the tree’s stems. 

“Take a seat, I don’t show this place off to just anyone!”

Blinking, he eyed the gazebo once more, before approaching it. Walking up the wooden steps, he took a seat at the sole table provided in the open area. He placed the basket before looking at the full detailing of the cabana. Flowers were hanging in the open arches of the gazebo, peonies, roses, and magnolia all mixed to create a beautiful floral flourish. Whoever built this has a good eye for design, he thought to himself, before shifting his focus to your body, his eyes catching the moment you jumped up to grab another pomegranate fruit. 

“Do you need help,” he couldn't help but call out, watching as you shook your head, jumping up one more time. 

With your last jump, you began to walk over to where he was sitting, four pomegranates in your hands as well. Smiling, you took the space right beside Kento, handing over two pomegranates. With a soft “thank you” he took them before pulling the basket of baked goodies in between the two of you. You took an apple custard tart while Kento unwrapped an apple cake donut, taking a tentative bite, quickly savoring the richness of the donut, mixing in with the sweet custard glaze. The conversation between the two of you was light, with Kento asking about what exactly this clearing was. 

“I had the project started the week after my grandmother died, it’s like an ode to her and all her work. She loved coming to this area basically to relax, ro get away from my granddad or my mother’s nagging about her pulling too much weight for her age,” your snicker was contagious, Kento’s own laughter following your own.

“A strong woman in her own right, huh?” Kento pitched in, taking another bite of his donut.

You nodded your head, “that she was,” you hummed, smiling for a short moment. 

Suddenly, you shook your head frantically, “I just realize I’ve been talking about myself this whole time! What about you, you know, I never got to ask about what business you had to deal with while in Aquirine.” 

He shrugged his shoulders, a grimace appearing on his face, “there’s nothing to say about me. I’m from the city, and I’m a financial executive at my job–”

“Financial executive, is that just a fancy way of saying you’re the CFO?”

He said nothing, but his silence already spoke enough for you, 

However, your words interjected into the budding silence, “CFO at a big company, that’s not “nothing”,  now is it?” your words held a bit of teasing to it, nudging his body with your elbow.

His grimace disappeared, a half-smile appearing at your words, “I mean for most people yeah, but I found the job… well it was all I could do, given what I studied in college.”

“But you’re young too, to be offered such a huge role in so little time, right?”

“I was offered the job right after I graduated, so you would be right,” in the five years after he graduated and had been the top executive at Gojo, he’d never really stop and think about how much of an achievement that was for other people. 

He’s never had to explain himself, the people who needed to know about his role at the company already knew about it. The investors all vetted each and every person Satoru picked to fulfill the executive board of the company. To talk about himself, that was a first for him to do so. All he’s had to do is do the work, go home, and repeat, every once in a while, answer a call from his father, who at the end of the three-minute call would ask him for some money. The next app he was on was his bank app, requesting another wire transfer, lest he wished for his father to bombard his phone like he would do so before. 

“I’m getting the sense that you don’t enjoy the job as much as you want to,” you spoke up, taking the last bite of your custard, and brushing the crumbs off your hands. 

He blinked, but before he could even say anything to your statement, something yellowish caught his eye, right by your lips. 

“Oh you have something on your…” he trailed off, using his hands to point out the stain on his own face.

Perking up, your tongue flicked out of your mouth, but it was too short to fully clean off the area. No thinking, Kento’s right hand flew up to your face, his thumb poking out and cleaning off the custard dollop staining your lovely face. The action had a gasp leaving your mouth, staring wide-eyed at him as he slowly tried to retract his hands, but your own hand stopped him, palm to knuckle as you let him fondle your cheek.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he started, feeling his face blooming with heat.

Kento felt like a little schoolboy, no longer repressed of all his emotions, was what this was? He’d never shown interest in someone throughout his formative years, nothing but his father’s words keeping him down within his books. The feeling of softness pulling him out of his memories, his brown eyes looking down to see your hands touching his, a napkin covering your hands, cleaning the custard off of his hands. He looked at your face, only a smile, indulgent in its nature, on your face. 

“It’s fine, Kento,” you said, “thank you for getting it off my face.”

It was a soothing silence, as Kento felt his body beginning to lean towards you. He watched as your eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips before your own lips fluttered open. Your lips were barely touching, but before the kiss between the two of you could continue, a loud shout suddenly cut the two of you off, catching both you and his direct attention. Your eyes widened at the same time, before the two of you leaped into action, running towards where the shout came from. As the two of you ran, more sounds began to echo and bounce against threes. Then, you heard it, clear as day. 

Yuuji’s voice, screaming at someone to “GET OFF HIM!”

Your heart sank, something within you knowing that the “him” Yuuji was talking about was Megumi, as he was the only one that was with Yuuji. Pushing through the trees, the two of you broke through daylight, finding commotion happening in front of you. You could see the familiar fluff of pink hair being held back by a grown man, Yuuji trying his best to fight out of the man’s hold. 

“Yuuji! Megumi!” You couldn't help but shout, your heart racing as you suddenly saw black spiky hair on the ground, covered in sand. 

However, a hand came up, and pushed you back, suddenly stopping you in your tracks. Looking up, you had no time to see Kento shrug off his jacket, telling you to wait here, before rushing towards the man holding Yuji and the other one stomping on Megumi’s. 

“Kento!” You couldn’t help but yell, watching as he easily subdued the two men with ease. 

Honestly, if you blinked, you could have missed it. He caught the one holding Yuuji by surprise, wrapping his bicep around the man's neck, before pulling him into a chokehold. The rise caused him to let Yuuji go, who immediately went towards the grown man stomping on Megumi. However, Kento easily knocked out the man in the chokehold, getting to the man before Yuuji could, and pushing him off of him. That man, who was more ready for Kento, threw a punch towards him, but it was too wide, Kento was able to easily dodge it, before sending one punch towards the man, the force causing his body to twist almost a whole 180 degrees before easily falling onto the floor. 

Immediately seeing how the danger was over, you rushed over to your boys, where Yuuji was holding up Megumi, whose eyes were fluttering but still attentive. Your heart dropped at the sight of blood dripping out of his mouth, as well as cuts dripping with blood all over his face.

“Are the two of you okay?” You knew the answer yet, your heart still needed to hear their verbal confirmation, a step for you to calm yourself down from the ordeal. 

“I’m… I’m fine, but Megumi–” Yuuji cut himself off as Megumi suddenly began to cough, and cough hard. 

Your eyes widened at the gargled saliva mixed in with blood, spat out onto the ground during his fit, and immediately pulled out your phone. 

“Yuuji, can you carry him to the clinic?! Please!”

Yuuji nodded, but before he could, two large hands came in between you, you and Yuuji watching as Kento came in, before easily carrying Megumi, placing him on his back. Your eyes glanced at where the men were lying, only to find them gone from their position, only to see their knocked-out bodies. Looking back at Kento, seeing how disheveled his smoothed-back hair was, he was no longer wearing his glasses on his face as well. His clothes were wrinkled, and his shirt nearly pulled out of its tucked position. 

“Yuuji, if you don’t mind, can you just tell me where the clinic is? I would hate to leave her all alone before the police can get here.”

Yuuji blinked for a moment, before slowly nodding his head, telling him where Kento could find the clinic. With no other words, he began making his way down the road, Yuuji and yourself watching him. With nothing else, hoping Kento could get here in time, you dialed the Sheriff's number, knowing it by heart. The phone rang for only a short moment, before the line picked up, and the female operator spoke. Quickly as you could, you relayed to the operator what happened, and she said that officers would be there as soon as possible. You also told them about Kento, telling them he was taking Megumi and may need some help to get him there.

Before you knew it, three police cars pulled up at the front of your home, and the Sheriff included all surrounding the front entrance of the Orchard. Immediately, the two of you pointed to the knocked-out men, who were beginning to wake up. Quickly the two of them were arrested. For a moment, they had to separate Yuuji and yourself as they took your statements, each relaying exactly what happened as the two of you remembered it, Yuuji’s account was more needed because he saw everything that happened, while you only saw the aftermath. The two of you were stuck in the cold for a long time, talking and watching as the officers and the long crime scene unit within town took note of everything that happened, pictures, blood samples. 

Before you knew it, both you and Yuuji had been outside for hours, seeing the sun beginning to go down just as another police car began to pull up. Not even bothering to wait before the car fully stopped, blond hair exited out from the front, Kento making his way over to the two of you. The sudden sight of him overwhelmed you, your knees buckling after everything. Quickly, he rushed over to you, catching you with the help of Yuuji as well. 

“Megumi?” was the first thing you said to him, as the three of you began to make your way towards the house. 

“He’s fine, the doctor said he’ll be fine, I left as soon as his father arrived. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

You could only nod your head, Kento’s words providing you with a bit of consolation. Your thoughts flew to Toji, how it would feel for him to see his only child lying in a clinic bed.  Knowing Toji, it’s only a matter of time before he finds out exactly who caused this incident… 

Incident… as the three of you took your seats on the couch in the welcome area, ignoring the officers that would walk past the three of you. Your mind now begins to clear up, the fog of the events slowly dissipating as you slowly relax in the depths of your home. Now, you were able to think, with the confirmation that both Yuuji and Megumi are safe. The events of three days ago suddenly came into your mind. That day, when you and Toji both agreed that your uncle was planning something and that things were not over yet. It had been only three days ago, and now your employees are being jumped. Anger spurred within you, but no surprise, as you knew your uncle was exactly the type of person to send goons to beat up your…

Suddenly, another thought came to your mind, a thought that was much more grime and alarming. 

The Orchard was closed, specifically for the holiday. Everyone in town knew that Yuuji and Megumi, as well as none of your employees, were ever supposed to be here. The only person that was supposed to be here was you because you LIVE here. 

If Megumi and Yuuji weren’t here… hell if Kento wasn’t here…

Your heart began to beat rapidly, your breathing becoming slowly unsteady the more and more you thought about it. Too unsteady, as it suddenly caught the attention of the two men sitting right next to you. 

“Boss?” Yuuji called out to you, his hands coming up to your arms, “are you okay?!”

A large hand came up to your face, the feeling of rough skin and gauze wrapped around knuckles pressing against your skin. Slowly, your face turned towards brown eyes, “breathe…”

Kento’s voice was the embodiment of calm, the lull of his voice slowly guiding you out of your budding panic attack. Taking a deep breath, you could feel the hot tears trailing down your cheeks, but it was all you could do not to break down into short breaths and sobs. Kento guided you as well, taking deep breaths with you to help. Soon, your tears slowed, and your breathing stabilized once again, at least enough for you to open your mouth. 

“I…” you began, “I think they were here for me…” you revealed to the two of them.

Your eyes flickered in between them, gauging their reactions. Yuuji, bless his heart, took a little minute to understand what you meant. But, looking over at Kento’s, who’s eyes slightly widened in alarm, knew exactly what you meant.

“The Orchard is closed, and you were the only person that was supposed to be here, if everything went as normal,” he couldn't hold back the unease in his voice, his hands coming up and slowly rubbing heat into your arms.

Yuuji’s own face turned into one of horror, his hand coming up, brushing away his hair that fell in front of your face. A tense, and unnerved science fell between the three of you, with Kenoto’s hand falling from your face to your shoulders, pulling you in close. The smell of cool citrus and sage calmed you just a bit, your hands coming up, pressing them against his front, snuggling further into his hold. However, before either of you could speak, the door flew open, the three of you jumping before going to see the sudden uproar. Heavy stomps came towards the three of you, before eyeing familiar shaggy black hair and a scar on the side of his lips. Your body went at ease as Toji came closer to you, concern shining in his eyes. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He checked on you, Toji’s eyes solely on you as he pulled you out of Kento’s hold, his eyes scanning over you. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you assured him as best as you could, “you should be with Megumi, he’s the one who actually got hurt.”

“The brat’s fine, made me leave to check on you, the smoker’s with him.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes, but his hands slowly let go. 

Still, you watched as he looked over at Yuuji, making sure that he was okay as well before finally realizing that the two of you were not alone. Kento, realizing that Toji was looking at him, stood up as well. 

“Listen, I never got to thank you for taking my son to the clinic,” Toji murmured, taking a step toward Kento, before holding his hand out. 

Your eyes darted between Kento and Toji, watching in silence as Kento, apprehensive, stuck out his own hand before shaking it as well. The shake went on for a bit too long, both you and Yuuji glancing at each other for a moment before looking at the two men once again. Toji soon enough pulled his hand away, tucking it into his pocket. 

“So, have they figured out who did this?” Toji turned and faced you, “when I got here, the cops were still outside looking over things.”

You sighed, falling right back onto the couch, exasperated, pushing your braids out of your roll, “No nothing yet, but I doubt they’ll find anything right now.”

Yet, as the two of you locked eyes, you knew exactly would be able to do something like this. Your uncle’s grimy smile flashed in your head, remembering how he was surrounded by his goons while on your property. Slowly opening your eyes, staring up at your chandelier ceiling. 

The sound of the door swinging open caught your attention again, this time seeing the Sheriff, Yaga, coming through the door and walking over to you. Immediately, you got up, the rest of the men following as he relayed the situation to you.

“Some of the men took the perpetrators down to the station, but they’re not talking without a lawyer. We’re gonna go ahead and charge them with trespassing, assault and battery and wait for their lawyer to arrive,” Yaga said, adjusting his belt. 

Your body slumped slightly, but you nodded your head, “okay… you think the charges will stick?”

“Most likely yes, it’s very cut and dry and you have security cameras out there so we’ll be needing those too. We’ll also be increasing patrols down this road for the next few days.”

You confirmed that you’d give him the tapes, and after a few more words exchanged, you decided to drop them off first thing tomorrow morning, and with that, he left your home, hearing him walk down the steps and path and eventually driving away. It was all silent in the house once more, with you going back to the couch and slumping into the decorative pillows and upholstery. 

“This is…” you said nothing else, letting out a hefty breath of air.

Suddenly, you heard a beep, glancing over at Toji pulling out his phone and looking at it. 

“Smoker says Megumi fell asleep, and that everything still looks good with him.”

Suddenly, Yuuji stood up, exclaiming, “I need to go be with him!” 

Toji held his hand up, “hold it Pinky, lemme take you, Megumi will kill me if I let you go by yourself. Need to head back there anyways, talk about treatment plans and what not.”

Toji then eyed Kento, before looking over at you, “you trust him?” He pointed at Kento. 

You blinked, glancing over at Kento before looking over Toji, confusion shining in your eyes, but slowly nodding your head. Toji let out a breath of what seemed to be slight relief before turning towards Kento. 

 “Stay with her tonight, Blondie? Don’t want her to be alone until we learn all the details. All we know, they could send more goons.”

Your eyes widened, “wait, Kento you don't need to stay–” but Kento shook his head at your words, before looking over at Toji, nodding his head.

“Never planned to leave in the first place.”

Your eyes widened, looking over at Kento, while Toji nodded, before facing Yuuji and jerking his head towards the door. With no other words exchanged, Yuuji gave you a deep and long hug, taking a deep breath, letting go, and saying that he’ll be back tomorrow before leaving with Toji to go and be with Megumi. Yuuji waved goodbye to Kento, who waved back before walking side by side with Toji. The two of them soon walked out, silence following as well, before hearing Toji’s truck rumble before pulling out into the road. 

Now it was just you and Kento, sitting in the dimmed room.

“I’m sorry,” the words fumbled out of your mouth before thinking about them fully. 

You felt Kento turn towards you, his eyes boring holes into you, “why would you think you need to apologize? This wasn’t your fault. No one could have guessed this would happen.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, despair beginning to take hold of you. Everything came falling down on you, your uncle’s arrival, the incident today, and everything your own flesh and blood has tried to do to get your Orchard for himself. Your body began to shake, your hands coming up to cover your face as sobs began to heave from your body. Immediately, you felt arms and hands around you, Kento’s warm body wrapping itself around you. The room echoed your cries and shouts, but at the same time, you could hear Kento’s soft words, trying his best to comfort you. It felt like an eternity as the two of you sat there.

Kento soon felt you beginning to quiet down, glancing down at you, only to find your eyes shut, face still streaked with salty tears. Your eyelashes glisten underneath the low light as well. He heard soft snores coming for you, your body breathing in and out slowly. He sat there, holding you and watching your face soften, no longer scrunched up from the magnitude of stress you were under. Your nose slightly opens every time you breathe out, your chest rising with every breath you take. The moment he shifted his body, you would react, an incoherent mumble leaving your mouth as you snuggled into his hold. Your hands reach out and grab at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt. 

His heart jumped, before beginning to beat really fast. However, he knew it wasn't safe for you to stay asleep in his arms, so slowly he got up, carefully not to wake you. For a moment, he did not know where to go, glancing around the room, trying to see where exactly the stairs were that would give him access to the second floor. With grace, he walked through the back door, entering the kitchen of the bakery and gift shop, before seeing a wooden door at the back of the white room, looking very out of place. Walking towards it, using one hand to hold while reaching out the door, only to find the doorknob barely moving, the door locked. 

He cursed underneath his breath, before the memory of your keys, which he remembered being in your pockets. Kento fished them out, and he stood there for a few moments, going through each key before a brown, rustic one easily entered the slot, testing it and the door slowly creaked open. Kento was now faced with a dark stairway, with another door at the end of it. He then closed the door behind him, before making his way up. The steps were creaky, and with no light, he had to take slow and cautionary steps until he felt the point of his shoes pressing up against a wall, well a door. He reached down, and luckily this door was unlocked, before pushing it open. 

In it, he was transported to a whole new area, a place where it looked like someone was living. The walls were painted white and he could see different green plants, potted and placed in different areas of the living room. Ahead of him, he could see stairs, light brown colored ones with space missing in between them. It looked completely different from the vintage coziness downstairs, more modern, but the hay-weaved decorations and the plants, as well as the clean walls, gave its own version of coziness as well. 

Kento kicked his shoes off, placing them at the door, before going up the stairs. Upstairs looked like a normal hallway, eyeing the closed white doors, before his eyes caught onto silver. At the end of the hallway, his eyes caught onto a door with silver butterflies all traveling in a curve on the door, as well as gold entails decorated the outer parts of the door as well. He couldn't help it smile, it was so very you, in the little time he’d gotten to know you. 

Quietly, he approached the door, slowly turning the doorknob, and pushing the door. Kento entered into a smaller space, of what seemed to be an office, a cozy, intimate one. The desk was white, and you had both a desktop and a laptop on it. There were stacked books around it as well, and flowers within an old vase. Walking past your desk towards the pried door, where he could see a semblance of a bed. In your actual bedroom, the space was much bigger, your bed pressed up against the far right of the wall. You had a huge shelf, four rows, and each either had a stack of books, framed photos, or potted plants with huge, thick leaves dangling in the air. 

Approaching your bed, Kento bent over, slowly relaxing his hold on you, allowing you to slide easily into the comfort of your sheets. However, your grip on him was tight, despite your unconscious want to be in the familiar depths and redolence within your bed. With a little more force, he pried your hands off his shoulders, placing you inside your comforter before pulling the heavy blanket over you. 

He took a few steps from you, his aim to quietly leave you to get your rest after today’s stressful events. However, as he walked, something on your shelf caught his eye, and he stopped mid-step as his eyes widened. The picture was obviously a few years ago, with a slightly-younger you smiling in the image. However, standing in front of you was Megumi, who was even younger-looking, not looking a day over ten years old. He wasn’t smiling, which seemed to be a norm for the teenager, but his cheeks were pink, looking away from the camera like he was embarrassed.

And standing beside you, was Megumi’s father, whose name he learned was Toji, his arm wrapped tightly around you, look, a loving look in his eye as he stared right at you, while he looked at the camera. But that wasn’t what caught Kento’s attention, no. What caught his attention was the still-in-motion kiss that he was placing on your cheek. Your smile was wide, in fact, you looked like you were giggling in the photo as well. 

The memories of how Toji rushed to your side came flooding back to him, how he pulled you towards him, the exasperation on his face. Kento felt something within him break as he looked over the photo. 

Who was he kidding? Of course you and Megumi’ father had passed, after mentioning that he was the only other non-family employee to live here. That his son used to live here as well. To get his hopes up like that… he thought back to the night the two of you spent together… He didn’t even know what got into him? To get his hopes up? For a woman he met a mere three days ago?

He was hanging around Satoru too much, to be able to dream like that. 

Quietly, he placed the frame back down onto the shelf, before making his way out of the room. He closed the door with silence, before stepping right back into your living room. Kento eyed the couch, seeing the blanket resting on it, before sighing. No matter what, he knew it would never sit right in his heart if he left you all alone, after an attack like that. He walked over to your couch, swinging his feet onto the softness, before pulling the blanket as much as he could over his body. 

It was like it all came crashing down on him the moment he rested his head on one of your couch pillows. Like a weight double, his own pressed up against him, closing his eyes before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

The sound of sizzling was the first thing that woke him up.  The next was the sound of soft humming as well. A hoarse groan left his throat, as Kento slowly pried his eyes open, only to be hit with the smell of sizzling bacon as his senses slowly woke up with him. The moment he tried to move his limbs, only to be hit with a dull ache and pains, causing a pained groan to leave his lips. The sound of hums suddenly stopped, the sounds of metal clanging against something before soft steps began to make their way over to his body on the couch. 

He could see something suddenly standing over him, his eyes narrowing as he tried to blink out the sudden swell of liquid in his eyes. Once he did, he could see you, now well-rested and standing over him. 

“You’re awake, you know, you could have stayed in one of the guest rooms,” you said, taking a few steps towards him. 

Slowly, despite his aching limbs, he pushed himself up out of his sleep position, pulling the blanket off of him, “I didn’t want to intrude more than I already had, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Well, atleast go take a shower, sleeping on the couch couldn't have been good for your back. Some hot water will do you some good, middle door to the left of the hallway.” You instructed him, pointing towards the one hallway within this apartment-style home.

He blinked at you, watching your hands resting on your hips. You were no longer wearing the clothes from yesterday. Rather, your hair was wrapped in a beautiful, shining, purple silk scarf while you were wearing a huge black t-shirt, and thick, cotton shorts. Quickly, his eyes averted from your bare legs, ignoring the sudden skip of his heart, before nodding, not saying a word as he got up, his body easily towering over you before making his way to the hallway. He could feel your eyes on him as he made it to the bathroom, slowly opening the door. The bathroom was small and quaint, but obviously maximized the little space it was given. To his right, a little washer and dryer was there, where you most likely did your own personal laundry. It was smaller than he expected. Ahead he could see a shower behind some glass doors, slowly stepping inside before closing the door behind him. Slowly, he began to strip off his clothes, folding them as he went, and placing them on the sink as well. On that same sink, he could see a rectangular box of unopened soap, as well as a wash rag sitting neatly on top of it as well as a note from you. 

For you, Kento ♡

He picked it up, a smile on his face, some of his tension smoothing away as he placed the note to the side, before grabbing the soap and rag. Now naked, grimacing at the way his back ached when he stretched his arms up. You were right, the couch was not good for his back. Reaching for the water switch, the appliance was easy for him to understand as he waited for the water to reach a perfect warm temperature. The moment he felt slight steam billowing from the surface of the pouring water, he stepped in, holding back deep groans as the hot water began to soothe his pain. As he pressed the rag onto itself, spreading the water all throughout the cotton cloth, before rubbing the soap. His mind faded, going over every event that brought him into your home. Meeting you in the Square, following you home, watching you as you gave him your own personal tour, showing him a special palace close to your heart. The men beating up Yuuji and Megumi, the realization that those men could have been coming for you. Your grueling sobs. 

His heart clenched as the memories of your painful cries came back, how he held you until your sobs eventually turned into soft snores, your body giving up on you underneath the amount of stress you were under. How he carried you to your room, and how, 

The flash of the picture frame came back to him, of you, young Megumi, and Toji.

Slowly, he stopped washing himself as he thought back to it, despite his efforts to try and stop thinking about it. It was none of his business after all, if anything, he was the outsider, the two of you had known each other for years. He had… he had no business speculating on what was going on between the two of you. 

So then, he thought to himself, as he continued to pull the lathered cloth up and down his body, did his heart feel like this?

Once fully washed, he rinsed the soap off his body, making sure he got every nook and cranny of his body before slowly turning the water off. Slowly opening the glass door, he reached out for the towel that you left for him, drying himself off while still standing in the shower. Once mostly dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist before looking around. The only clothes he could see were his own, and he didn’t feel like wearing his stiff dress shirt once again. 

As he was thinking, a knock came to the door,  before hearing your soft, muffled voice coming from the other side, “Kento, is everything okay?”

Blinking, before he knew it, he was already on the other side of the small bathroom, reaching towards the door knob. Pulling it open, the two of you locked eyes, watching as yours widened at the sight of him. 

“Do you have any spare clothes I can borrow?” He asked, not fully gauging how you suddenly froze at the sight of him. 

Blinking, now realizing you weren't saying anything for a moment, calling out your name before waving his hand in front of your face. The sudden movement must have broken you out of the sudden trance. Suddenly, he found that your eyes were averting his own, as you asked him to repeat what he asked. Kento’s eyebrows quivered, but didn’t want to ask what was wrong with you, only repeated his question. He saw how you nodded quickly, before scurrying away towards your room, watching the door suddenly shut close behind you. 

He glanced around, before slowly stepping back inside the bathroom, not wanting the steam to billow and heat up the hallway on accident. He waited for a few moments, before taking a moment to glance at himself in the mirror, seeing his naked chest, how the water glistened against the hairs of his chest, arms, and abdomen. He continued to stare at himself, suddenly realizing exactly what made you freeze up right in front of him. However, despite that, he could feel a slight elation that he even made you feel that way.

Big, that was your first thought, your heart skipping two beats per second as you slammed your bedroom door behind you. Heavy breathing echoed through the room as you pressed a hand against your skin, the contrast between your cold hands and the heat bubbling underneath your deep skin.

He was so big… you knew this about him or had some idea of it, but his body was covered in the blanket of that night. Squeaking, covering your mouth at just how much you enjoyed looking at him. The water pearls dripping from his body, his wet hair sticking onto his face… Squealing, you smacked yourself in the face once again, before taking even more deep breaths, trying to calm yourself as much as you could. Removing your hands, you moved towards your closet, where your father’s old clothes were stored. Shifting through the chest you had placed them in when you renovated their room, you fished out a huge red plaid shirt, as well as a pair of sweatpants. You placed the folded clothes in your arms neatly before closing the trunk and making your way out of the room. 

The moment you stepped out of the room, your heart kicked up again. You took slow steps towards the bathroom before giving a couple knocks on the door. It was all silent, no response for a few seconds too long.

“Ken… Kento, I have some clothes here for you…” you started, only for your voice to trail off as the door opened slightly, a huge hand coming out from the crack.

“Thank you,” he said while behind the door. 

Blinking, you slowly put the clothes in his hands, watching as he took them before slowly closing the door behind him. You stood there a moment, a budding hope within you dashing when you only saw his arm coming out for the bathroom once more. Shaking your head, you turned around, going towards your kitchen to finish the last of the breakfast you were making for the two of you. On your neatly made dining table, you had a stack of pancakes on two different plates, your usual one, a pink heart-shaped plate that Nobara got you for your birthday, and getting out a handmade plate you made while at a pottery class in the city. You stacked three pancakes each, before getting the matching mini plate to Nanami’s before putting scrambled eggs, bacon, and turkey sausage on it as well. The smell of coffee still sitting in your coffee machine mixed in with the smell of breakfast as well. On the table, you had pitchers of orange juice, apple juice, and water as well. 

Suddenly, you heard something behind beginning to creak, turning your head as a tall figure escaped from your bathroom. You watched as Kento entered your living room, now fully clothed. Luckily, the shirt fit him perfectly, too perfectly, raced through your mind as quickly as it left. Swiftly, you turned your head before facing the small feast you made.

“Come, come,” you beckoned him, gesturing to his seat. 

With no words, he walked over to you, before taking his seat at the dining table. You could see him eyeing everything that you’ve made. 

“You didn’t have to make all this for me,” he said, watching as you placed two plastic pitchers of syrup, maple brown sugar syrup, and apple brown sugar cinnamon syrup on the table as well.

“I wanted to, to thank you for yesterday,” you smiled, taking your seat right beside him at the circular table. 

“There’s no need to thank me for that,” his tone held slight confusion as if he really couldn't comprehend why you would thank him for this. 

“But there is, Kento. Don’t worry about it, just eat, please? For me?” You smiled at him, picking up your fork. 

You waited for him to pick up his fork and knife, seeing him quietly say thanks to the food before beginning to dig in the food. At first, it was all quiet, but your eyes were on Kento as he took a bite out of his sliced pancake, after he poured the maple syrup onto it. You watched as his eyes lit up, before he took a bigger slice of teh pancake, drenched in syrup and butter before eating it in one go as well. You then focused on your food, a quiet yet warm silence between the two of you, the two of you preferred not to speak while you ate your breakfast. The sounds of knives grating into the plate and the muffled sounds of chewing were all you could hear as you ate your pancakes and eggs.

However, as breakfast began to disappear, conversation picked up between the two of you, no longer wishing for the silence between the two of you. Giving him a hypothetical question, (would you rather travel to the future, or to the past?) The two of you argued your own points, with you wanting to go to the future while he wished to go to the past. As the conversation continued, the two had long finished your breakfast, with you getting up and wanting to clean up, but Kento made you sit down, taking your plate. You watched, a smile curling on your face as Kento washed your plates and cups with ease. However, not wanting to stay stagnant, you cleaned up the syrup and pitchers of juice you had, placing them back in your fridge. When everything from breakfast was clean, the two of you approached your couch, wanting to relax. 

“Okay, but if you go back to the past, you’re just seeing things you’ve already seen, even if you wanna change it. I think going to the future to see what you become is much better,” you argued, sitting down on the couch. 

Kento opened his mouth, about to argue back, when all of sudden, a ping caught both your and his attention. Putting your water bottle down, you patted yourself down for your phone before remembering that you left it in your room, looking back at Nanami as he pulled his phone out of the sweatpants pocket. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed down, squirting at whatever popped up on his phone. 

“Everything okay, Kento?” you asked him, taking a sip of your water bottle.

After a beat, he nodded his head, his thumb tapping away at the screen, “The person I'm supposed to be meeting with just messaged me. Saying “he’s excited about the meeting and hopes I’m ready for the offer he’s about to make me.”

Right. The meeting. The whole reason he was here in this small town, to begin with. Yesterday, he was supposed to meet up with this mystery person but they rescheduled the meeting, which allowed Kento to follow you to the Orchard, giving him a personal tour of everything. 

You hummed, glancing between him and his phone, “do you… do you know what kind of offer this person is about to make you? You don’t have to tell me, either.”

Kento shook his head, “it’s fine, because I don’t even know what it’s about. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my boss.”

“Your boss? What, did he send you on a wild goose chase?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kento grumbled, looking away with a grimace on his face.

The look caused you to giggle, covering your head with your face. He heard the sound, looking over at you. However, after laughing, and thinking about Kento’s meeting situation, something within you rang off, confusion striking you for a bit. 

“Wait, so then why did you have to meet him? And not someone under you or even your boss? This is his idea, after all?” 

Kento sighed, placing his large hand against his forehead, “I don’t know why he does half the shit he does, but to answer your question, I was doing business in the city nearby, and he asked me to go and see if this was something to look into more.”

“Ohhh,” you stretched out, taking another sip of water, “so you were just convenient.”

You suppressed your smile as he froze midst taking a sip of his own water bottle, his eyes shifting over to look at you. After a beat of silence, you couldn't hold back your laughter, throwing your head back at the way he reacted to your words. 

“I’m…” laughter, “oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” you tried to speak, but your laughter obviously gave away your true feelings. 

He didn’t say anything, but instead a small appeared at the sound of your laughter as he took another sip of shi water. 

“It’s fine, I’m thinking of rescheduling again after everything that happened yesterday–” he started but you cut in, your back straightening up in alarm

“Oh no, don't do that! I’ll be fine,” you said, shaking your head at him, “there’s no need to reschedule! Go to your meeting! It’s the reason you came here in the first place, right?”

He looked over at you, “but to leave you all alone after everything–” but once again, you cut in

“I’ll be fine, Yaga increased patrols around here and I’m sure no one will try anything for the time you’re gone. My other kids should be back from their trip to the city and when they hear about this, I’m sure they’ll come rushing over.” You assured him. 

Kento’s face twisted, tucking his phone into his pocket, “Are you sure?”

You nodded your head, getting up, before reaching for him, “it’s fine, it’s fine,” you reiterated. 

As you began to push him at the door, he suddenly stopped, almost knocking you over. He turned to look at you, watching as you stood up from nearly falling onto the wooden floor. 

“At least give me your number, so I know you can reach me.”

Your eyes widened when he said that, watching as his eyes intensified. Heart kicked up, and your throat went dry, you nodded your head, before telling him to wait here. Scurrying away like a little cute mouse, you swiped your phone off of your bed before going toward him once again. The two of you exchanged numbers, and Kento reiterated that you should call him if anything happens. With your final confirmation, he grabbed his bag of clothes, and the two of you made your way down the stairs of your apartment into the huge bakery kitchen, to the front of the house. 

“Thank you again, for everything Kento,” your words were soft as you looked up at him. 

The afternoon frost was nipping at your skin but didn't bother either of you as he stood amid the doorway.

“Like I said, there was no need to thank me, I’m just glad to have been there. Who knows what could have happened to you,” his hand came up, pushing the lone braid in your face away, allowing him to see your gorgeous smile. 

Looking up at him, an inexplicable amount of courage suddenly crushed through you. Reaching up to the tips of your toes, your lips suddenly pressed themselves against his cheek, leaving a soft and slightly long kiss on them. Your heart was beating in between your ears, and nervous heat was erupting underneath your skin, but you didn’t regret it, watching as Kento’s eyes widened at the sudden smooch placed on his face. You could see pink surging all across his face as he turned to look over at you. 

“That’s for good luck, with your meeting as well,” you said, leaning against the open door, one hand on the doorknob. 

“Tha… thank you,” is all he could say before turning around, taking the few stairs down for the front of your porch.

You watched with a smile on your face as he walked away, waiting until he was a bit way down the road, before closing the door behind you. The moment the door closed, a loud sequel flew out of your mouth, your back hitting the door. Covering your face as you slowly, slide down, 

“Why did I do that?!” you screamed at yourself, your body twisting in turning under an amalgamation of nervousness and embarrassment.

“Please stop,” Megumi deadpanned, pushing you away as much as he could while you took a wet rag to his face, cleaning off all the grime on his face. 

“Well, I can’t just leave you looking like that,” you exclaimed, taking a seat beside his hospital bed. 

 Thirty minutes after Kento left, you decided to go and visit Megumi while at the clinic. In your hands held a basket of treats, including two slices of apple-rum cake, Megumi’s favorite dessert. Yuuji and Nobara were sitting on the other side, leaning onto the bed as they indulged in the apple tarts that you brought along as well. 

“I hear that a certain someone came here with treats,” a voice called out, as the door slammed open. 

You turned around, smiling as your eyes landed on a familiar figure. Iori walked in, a smile on her face as she faced you. Squealing, you stood up before wrapping your arms around her, sighing as she hugged you back, the two of you rocking. Utahime’s business kept her out of town a lot, so it wasn’t often you would get to see her. 

“How long are you back in town! I didn’t even know you came back?!” Exclaimed, guiding her to the empty chair that Ieiri suddenly brought for her. 

“You knew I couldn’t miss the cafe opening for the world! I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I heard what happened?!” Her face took on one of concern, her hand racing out towards your hand as she turned her eyes glancing over at Megumi before looking at you once again. 

Your wide smile lessened a bit, “yeah, but everyone’s okay, I’m just glad no one seriously hurt.”

“But sending goons, to do god knows what? It’s all too much,” she said, crossing her arms. 

You shook your head, sighing, “yeah, but all we can do is move on, hopefully the cops can find out that he’s even connected to this. However, I know him, and he’s somehow gonna get out of it.”

Utahime tutted, shaking her one more time, but then, her downturned face suddenly lifted, her red lips turning into a smirk, her eyes moving onto you. Seeing her expression, your eyes furrow down in confusion. 

“...what?” you couldn't help but ask.

“...I heard a little rumor that you were shacking up with a random blond man, you wanna… go into detail about that?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced, pumping up, as you looked away from him, suppressing your smile, “... no… I don’t know what you talking about,” you fibbed, twirling with one of your braids, looking everywhere but at her.

She shook her head, “uuh-uh, nope, you don’t get to hide from me, little one! Who is he, what’s his name, and occupation, and where did you even meet him?”

You weren't going to say anything, but Yuuji, oh bless his heart, decided to drop in, hearing the conversation. 

“His name is Nanami, and they met at one of the cooking classes she teaches!” His smile was wide too.

Iori shrieked again, “Ugh, how could you not have told me this?!” She looked over at both Megumi, Npbara and Yuuji. 

Megumi only shrugged, “we had met him yesterday at the festival, and today as well, you know before,” he cut himself off by suddenly gesturing to himself, and his beaten-up body. 

“We did not shack up together,” you lied your ass off, “did he spend the night at my place? Yes! But that was because of everything that happened! We had only met a few days ago!” You turned around to look at her, crossing your arms as well. 

“Still, that doesn’t mean anything can’t happen, either way, tell me more about him!” She cheesed in your face, just as Ierei walked in, smelling like smoke. 

Sighed, but still, you turned towards her with a smile on your face, “he’s not from here, first of all.”

“I could tell from the fact that no one knew his name, but continue.”

The conversation delved between the two of you, talking about you and Kento, with Yuuji, Nobara, and Shoko listening intently. Utahime squealed as you told her about how quickly he acted the moment Yuuji and Megumi were in trouble as well. 

“Aah, he sounds like the perfect gentleman, and he’s rich too? If you ever get tired of the small-town life…” she nudged your side, winking at you as well. 

Despite your smile, you shook your head, “doubt it, I love it here.”

“So what, you’ll think he’ll move down here for you…?” she trailed off, leaning back slightly. 

“Remember that I’ve barely known this man for little more than a week,” you said, “he’s not gonna drop his cushy, CFO job in the city for a little town like this. For someone he just met too.”

She waved a finger in your face, “never say never! This could be it for you!”

Her words caused a slightly elated feeling within you. You couldn't help but think about it, how domestic the two of you felt. The idea of the two of you cooking together, and eating breakfast together as well. The sight of him in the clothes you gave him, how they fitted perfectly on him as well. Could it… could it really happen? 

Your head jerked slightly, looking up as you felt eyes on you, all five people in the room staring down at you. Pushing Iori’s finger out of your face, you shook your head, 

“I doubt it, anyways, I have to go, I need to start preparing for the Orchard’s opening, with the new cafe and everything."

Toji glared down at his phone, crossing through the various emails popping up on his phone. It took all of him not to curse out every one of his clients, to tell them that his son was hurt and that he couldn’t give two shits about the different color wallpaper they didn’t want in their homes. In his hands was a plastic bag, stacked with three takeout trays from one of the few restaurants around here, which also happens to be his brat’s favorite as well. He walked through the square, hoping to get there in time before she had to hear Megumi complain about being hungry.

Megumi… his only pride, and his blessing. 

His heart dropped when he got the call from the Smoker, and that the police had dropped off his son who had been beaten up profusely, as well as a random man. Luckily, he had already been driving back home from the city, in fact, he was on his way to you, because he knew Megumi was there. His heart had only felt like that two times in his life, 

When Megumi was born and when his wife died. 

True terror, and true fear. 

When he arrived, Megumi was somewhat awake, and a blonde man, with stern eyes and stress lines was waiting outside his door. This was Toji’s first time seeing someone like this, and in a town like this, it’s very hard to have never met someone before. 

“Who’re you?” Toji’s gruff voice came out, aching.

The blond stood up, holding out his hand, before introducing himself as Kento Nanami. Despite his respite, he shook the man’s hand, as this was the person who got his son to safety. Toji wondered how he got to his son, and Nanami, as quickly as he could explain before he left, that two men had suddenly come onto your property, and attacked both Megumi and Yuuji, with Megumi getting the brunt of the attack. Toji’s fear slowly dissipated when the Smoker came out and explained that Megumi was just gonna be fine, his ribs were bruised, and had no sustained injuries on his abdomen or stomach. His fear would slowly turn into angry– no– rage, as he realized that this attack on his son was no mere coincidence. It felt as if magma was boiling within his veins, 

Just a few days after your uncle’s sudden appearance? A man who knows no bounds when it comes to getting your orchard. 

The moment he was allowed into Megumi’s room, he was promptly kicked right out. 

“What are you doing here?!” Megumi had yelled at him, telling Toji that he needed to go be with you. 

Toji told him, in their usual banter, that unless things had changed, he was still his father. However, in his anger, he had failed to realize just how dangerous this attack was. Megumi had to be the one to tell him that the only person that was supposed to be in that Orchard was you. That everyone knew the Orchard would be closing for the holiday weekend. That if Yuuji and Megumi weren’t there, the only person those men could have been searching for, was you. You were their original target. 

With one more push from Megumi, he was already out of there, getting in his truck and making his way towards you. The moment he got there, he could see the few cops crawling around, talking and making their notes, along with the one crime scene unit. With an all clear from Yaga, he made his way towards your house, busting through the door, before hearing movement to his right. Entering the space, he was faced with three people, you, Megumi’s friend Yuuji, and the very same blonde man who had come to the clinic with his son. He saw how his arms were wrapped up around you, and he couldn't lie, something within him jerked, seeing how close he was to you. 

Quickly as he came in, he came over to you, pulling you out of his hold, his eyes rapidly looking over you, making sure that there were no cuts, scraps, and bruises on you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked you

You smiled, oh your smile, one of the few things that could ease his aching, “I’m fine, I’m fine. You should be with Megumi, he’s the one who actually got hurt.” You told him

Toji shook his head, slowly letting you go, “The brat’s fine, made me leave to check on you, the smoker’s with him.”

You said nothing at that, but it didn’t matter, as his eyes fluttered over to Yuuji, who looked a little roughed up himself, but otherwise fine. Then, his eyes went over him, Nanami, the one who carried his son until police cars came and picked them up and took them to the clinic. According to Yaga, before he came inside, he was the one to fight off the intruders, saving both his son’s life and your own as well. 

Despite everything he felt, he knew he owed this man a great debt. He walked over, holding out his hand, “Listen, I never got to thank you for taking my son to the clinic,” his voice came out in a mumble, yet everyone looked like they heard him. 

Nanami glanced down at his hand, before slowly reaching out enveloping his own hand as well. Their hands were similar sizes, and the handshake was stern, a good one as well. The two of them locked eyes, narrowed as their hands continued to shake up and down. No more words were exchanged between the two of them, all being said within that singular gesture. 

Toji was the first to let go, slowly pulling his hand back before putting it back into his pocket. He then turned to look at you, seeing Yuuji and yourself turning away from each other before looking at the two of them once again. 

“So, have they figured out who did this?” Toji questioned, “when I got here, the cops were still outside looking over things.”

The reminder caused your body to slump over, a downhearted look on your face as you sat back down on the couch. Almost immediately, Nanami placed his hands on your own, Toji’s eyes glancing in between you, who was taking a deep breath, and him, who kept his eyes solely on you. 

“Not yet,” you started, “but I doubt that they’ll find anything now.”

Yet, your eyes glanced over at Toji with a glowering emotion, and he knew exactly what that meant. The two of you both knew who exactly would be the type of person to send goons to your home. He remembers how he strolled up to the back, seeing the slimy smile on your uncle’s face as he spoke to you, and how seconds away Megumi was from attacking but he was surrounded by his people as well. That wasn’t a problem for Toji, as he forced the men to leave the property. Deep down, he knew that the problem was not over, it never truly was. The moment your grandmother died, and left everything to you, it would be an endless battle until either one of you died. 

The sound of the door opening took his attention, turning around only seeing the familiar tall form of Sheriff Yaga walking into the home. He spotted the four of you, making his way over as incoherent noises came from the radio he wore on his person at all times. Toji felt movement, looking to his left, only to see you getting up, and making your way towards Yaga. 

Immediately, he began speaking, “Some of the men took the perpetrators down to the station, but they’re not talking without a lawyer. We’re gonna go ahead and charge them with trespassing, assault and battery and wait for their lawyer to arrive.”

A lawyer? Huh, seems like your uncle has this all planned out. Toji stood in and listened as Yaga laid out the situation to you and in turn everyone else including you. He mentioned the security tapes you had around here, and you confirmed that you’ll drop them off first thing tomorrow as well. He also brought up increased patrols, and that further relieved something within Toji, but still… the fear of your uncle doing something to you hung over you. However, he knew he needed to go back to the clinic soon. 

Yaga soon left, and you went back to the couch, tired and dejected from it all, flopping onto the couch, “This is…”

However, a sound cut through the air, Toji feeling something move within his pockets. Quickly, he fished it out to silence it, only for his eyes to slightly widen at the notification. 

The Smoker: “Megumi fell asleep, probably from exhaustion. Everything looks good, I may be able to take him either tomorrow or the next day.”

He smirked down at his phone, quickly texting her back that he’d be coming back soon. He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he put his phone back in his pocket. 

“Smoker says that Megumi fell asleep, and that everything still looks good with him.”

Suddenly, Yuuji stood up, exclaiming, “I need to go be with him!”

Toji held up his hand, seeing how he was about to jump out of his skin to run and go and see Megumi, “Hold it Pinky, lemme take you, Megumi will kill me if I let you go by yourself. Need to head back there anyways, talk about treatment plans and whatnot.”

However, the last thing that any of them have is to leave you alone. That would be his last mistake, and yet, Maki and everyone else were still in the city on their little getaway, and he already knew the smoker was preoccupied. His eyes fluttered right back to Nanami, whose eyes narrowed at the sight of Toji looking at him. Toji then looked back at you, pointing his thumb at Nanami.

“You trust him,” he asked you. 

You peeked up at his confusion, and he could see confusion twist your face for a moment. For a moment, you glanced between Nanami and Toji, before slowly nodding your head. A sight left his mouth, ignoring his fleeting hope that you would say something completely different. 

Turning towards Nanami, his eyes still narrowed, “Stay with her tonight, Blondie? Don’t want her to be alone until we learn all the details. All we know, they could send more goons.”

“Wait, Kento you don’t need to stay–” your words were cut off by the blond man sitting right beside you, whose hand stuck out and kept you seated. 

“Never planned to leave in the first place,” is all he said to Toji.

Toji then nodded, ignoring the look in your eyes as you turned towards Nanami. Toji then looked over at Yuuji, with one jerk of his head towards the door, the young boy immediately got up, holding back his jitters. Before leaving, Yuuji gave you a long hug, telling you to be careful, as well as telling you that he would be back tomorrow, before making his way to the door. By now, Toji had already approached the door, hearing the boy following behind him. He unlocked the truck, letting the boy in, before making his way down the road back towards town. The car ride was silent, but he didn’t know if he should thank God or spit on his face. All he could think about was his hand on yours, how you found yourself at ease within his hold. This… man he’s never met before, someone who you never even bothered to tell him about. You used to tell him everything. 

Do you even deserve that right, a nasty voice within him, a voice he hadn’t heard since the day he was kicked out of his family, it’s obvious that she’s moving on…

The Zenin family, the only ones to rival the Gojo’s… another story, for another day. 

Now he was here, walking through the square, holding food for his son, his boyfriend, and himself. Suddenly, his phone rings, and glancing down at it, he smirks, before picking it up.

“Tell me you got something good for me, Shiu,” he spoke through the receiver, taking a quick right as he stepped out of some little kid's way as they ran, an exhausted mother soon following after them. 

“Well, I definitely got something, from what I could find, her uncle is trying to make business with the Gojos.”

Toji’s eyebrows perked up at that, “The Gojos? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. What would they want in this backwater ass town?”

Shiu chuckled, “ ‘pparently, head of the company wants to break into, and get this, the mining industry, and that mountain in your little “backwater ass town” has a bunch of coal and other important stones. However, the orchard is stopping her uncle from being able to sell the idea to them.”

Greed is the motivation most people would use to try and do heinous things to others. Trust him, he knows just how far people will go to get a huge chunk of money. Remembering his life when growing up, the tactics his family would use… in all honesty, your uncle and the Gojos were a little tame in their efforts.

“Everything around the orchard is public property, so it’ll be easy for the Gojo’s to buy up everything else… but the orchard is the main problem. He wants to build some kind of quarry on top of it as well. Honestly… it’s not too bad of a plan, and it makes a lot of people a lot of money.”

Except for you, Toji thought. He knew just how much you put into this, how you went to college, specifically to learn more to be able to run the orchard, a stipulation from your grandmother. Your drive was what pulled him towards you after all. 

As he walked straight, movement caught his eye. Thinking that it was just something random, a person going inside a restaurant, when his eyes fluttered to his left, and Toji froze mid-step. Everything within him froze, at first, his eyes could not believe anything that he was seeing. The frost of the air had no match for the way his blood boiled, angry heat erupting within him as he almost squeezed the phone in his hands. 

“Fushiguro— hey, are you there?! I got some more for you,” Shiu spoke out, but he was barely paying attention, watching the sight before him, that was happening across the street at a restaurant. 

Toji grunted and said that he was still listening, “yeah, apparently the Gojos are sending someone down to continue talking about the plans. I don’t know who, but watch out for him.”

His eyes widened as a handshake, between two people he knew, but he thought didn't know each other. 

Nanami, the man who carried his son, the one who comforted you, while wearing a fitting, sleeked, and ironed business suit, shaking hands with the man who has caused absolutely nothing but detriment to your life. Before he ended the call, hastily he told Shiu to look into a man named Kento Nanami before shutting off the call. Toji flipped towards his camera app, before taking just enough pictures to give right to you. To give you so you could believe him when he tells you the man you were shacking up with had berated you for the moment you two met. 

Kento walked amid the restaurant, walking behind a man. He was a thin man, and little shorter than Kento, and wearing a suit that was obviously bigger than him. In his hands, Kento could see, was a manilla folder, as well as two rolled-up papers, kept together with rubber bands. Kenot followed behind both him and the waitress, who took them to a booth in the back, gesturing for the two of them to sit and they did so. 

The waitress took their orders, and while Kento simply ordered water, the man ordered a sweet tea, as well as his own appetizer without looking at the menu. Once the waitress left to fulfill their orders, Kento pulled at the menu, flipping it open just to see what they had to eat. 

The man, seeing Kento flip through, quickly placed his bony finger within Kento's space pointing towards a certain thing on the menu, “their double-loaded burgers and fries, I especially think you should try, Mr. Nanami.”

Kento simply hummed, waiting a moment for the man to pull his hand away, so he continued looking at the menu. It was all quiet, until the waitress came back, giving Kento his water and the man his sweet tea as well as his appetizers before asking for main dish orders. Raden, Kento expected for him to order the double-loaded burgers, while Kento ordered a shrimp carbonara pasta. If Harris felt a way for Kento not ordering the same thing as him, he didn’t say it. The waitress wrote it all down before smiling and leaving.

“Alright, we should probably get into business while we wait for our food,” Harris began, pulling out the papers and unrolling the cylinder of paper. 

Kento watched as Harris unveiled two blueprints to him, looking similar yet very different. 

“Mr… Harris, what exactly am I looking at here?”

The man in front of him smirked, “this is the plan to allow for a new mine to be built right here, see within these mountains,” he brought a pen, pointing towards the area where the mountains were, “is a plethora of untouched coal and even other rocks as well. Untapped potential.”

Kenot could not lie to himself, his mind beginning to make the calculations, as he remembered all of Satoru’s sentiments in their previous meetings. There were many times he had mentioned the mining industry, one of the few things the Gojo’s don’t have any stake or claim within. A conglomerate as big as that one, and having an interest in an industry was something he would be interested in. He can see why Satoru decided this would be worth his time if he never knew what was going on. 

“Not only that, but we’ll also build a quarry, not too far from the mountains as well, and it’ll bring out even more investment as well.”

He suddenly pointed out an area on the prospective blueprints, circled where it said: “QUARRY.” Kento slowly nodded his head, before glancing between that and blueprints of the town, to see just how much things would change. 

Kento tilted his head, blinking as he continued to glance between the two blueprints. Aligning up, he could not see your orchard on it all, at least on the prospective blueprints. Leaning over, turning the papers to align with each other, he could feel his heart skip a beat in budding fear. 

Your orchard was nowhere to be seen, and right above where it was supposed to be were those words “QUARRY” written in big letters. 

He looked up at Mr. Harris, “I feel like I should point out the obvious obstacle here,” he pointed to your orchard on the blueprint, “the orchard here.”

His heart further dropped when Mr. Harris didn’t react, in fact, his smirk only widened.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s a work in progress. See, I grew up on that Orchard, just have to deal with a stubborn family member and it will be all ours for us to do as we please.”

His eyes were wide, but still, he tried his best not to show a reaction, yet all he could think about was everything, that day you rushed out when the two of you first met, those people who caused a major disturbance at your booth during the Vibirum festival, when those goons rolled and attacked Megumi as well. He had a feeling that this man in front of him was the reason that it was all happening. Did… he wished to scare you off the property…?

“Well, that’s definitely a lot,” Kento started, yet was interrupted by the waitress bringing their food over to them.

The conversation stifled for a bit as the two of them began to eat, Kento ignoring the way the cheese from his burger dripped on his chin. 

Wait a minute, Kento thought, did he say that he grew up on the Orchard. He remembered you saying that you were the only child of your parents… but this man was obviously older than you, too old to be an older sibling of yours. Yet when he looked back at Mr. Harris, in his eyes, Kento was suddenly blown away by the sudden familiarity of them. The eyes, the exact same eyes. You and him had the exact same eyes, yet yours was filled with shining light and his were filled… with malice. 

This man was definitely a relative of yours, but he wasn’t a brother… however, it never occurred to him that your mother could have had siblings as well.

Kento fully-eyed him, Harris was definitely old enough to be your uncle. At that notion, he almost choked on his pasta, quickly swallowing it by picking up his glass of water and taking a few steps. The two of them each ate half of their food, before asking the waitress for trays and bags before focusing right on the matter at hand. 

“Well, Mr. Nanami,” Mr Harris started, “what do you think? I’ve had this plan in motion for just a little over five years as well.”

Just a little over five years? Around the time your grandmother passed away? 

“When you said you grew up in the orchard…?” He couldn't help but ask, he needed all the information he could get before he acted. 

At this, his smirk turned more melancholy, looking down, “the orchard was founded by my mother and father, but it was really her running everything, my father would only listen. It was me, my younger sister and my older sister as well, may god rest her soul.”

“May God rest her soul.” was all the confirmation Kento needed about who he was. Said older sister, the one who by his words passed away, was obviously your mother. 

“When I left, my grandmother had the grand idea to leave it with my niece, who still owns it. But don’t you worry, once I tell her how much money she’ll make in this, she’ll sign everything over to me.”

Kento hummed, slowly nodding his head, acting as if he was moved by Harris’ words. Soon, the waitress came back, giving them their proper trays and bags. Harris stood up, saying that he had to go and that he hoped to hear good things from Kento before taking his leave. 

The moment that he was out of sight, Kento let out a large groan in anger and frustration, his hands pressing up against his face. It took everything within him not to attack the man sitting right in front of him. The more he talked, the more Kento realized that Harris had been trying nonstop to take your Orchard from you. An impasse, Kento was at an impasse, because he knew, he knew that he couldn't take this deal. His heart tugged with him, telling him that this would destroy you, and everything you’ve worked for, and the last thing he wanted to do, was be the person who caused that. In so little time, you’ve made an imprint, a brand on his heart. However, his brain knew that this was exactly the kind of deal Satoru wanted to make. Despite his friendship with the man, he was still his boss, and his family is what created the huge company where he worked. What he said, goes. 

Unless…

Kento got up, grabbing his bagged food, before leaving over two hundred dollars on the table to cover his portion of the bill as well as his tip. Fishing out his phone, he soon began to make a few calls, a rush of wind behind him as he exited out of the restaurant. 

Standing, watching as the huge mixer plowed through the dough you were making for the apple donuts, a new batch for when the orchard opened up for the week. You wore your usual apron over your outfit, an old, fading white shirt, and ripped baggy gray-washed jeans. Gloves on your hands as you began to mix pomegranate juice in the batch of buttercream glaze that was sitting in your mixing bowl. As you mixed the red juice, seeing the glaze turn a slow purplish-reddish color, you smiled.

You wondered if Kento would enjoy these, as much as he enjoys the donuts. As you mix, you couldn't help but think of this morning, and how close the two of you were at that time. It was like the two of you were in your own little bubble, away from the world. Eating breakfast, answering hypothetical questions, everything. You let out a shaky breath as you remembered when he opened the door, revealing his body still drenched in water from his shower. You couldn't pull your eyes from the way the beads of water would drip down his body, dragging against the hairs that grew from… everywhere… 

Shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of your budding fantasy, putting your focus right back onto the glaze in front of you. However, just as you are about to let go of the spatula, a loud BANG catches your attention. 

A loud gasp leaves your mind, your body turning around as your heart begins to race. Was this it? Did your uncle send more men to attack you again? Reaching for your phone, your fingers immediately itching, thinking about the blonde man who told you to call him, when a shouting voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Where are you?!” Toji, calling out your name, his voice booming and echoing throughout the house.

Befuddled, you stopped the dough mixer from mixing the bread, before taking your apron and leaving the kitchen. Entering the welcome area, just as Toji walked in, sweating and breathing heavily. 

“Come here, I have something to show you,” he grabbed you by the arm, ignoring your sudden shriek as he pulled you to the couch not far from you. 

“Toji? What is going on with you? Is it Megumi?” you asked him, watching as he pulled his phone out before scrolling through it. 

“No it’s not, but here!” That's all he said as he shoved his phone in your hand. 

Once again, confusion was on your face as you glanced over at him. Toji only gave you a hard stare, causing you to shake your head before looking at the phone in your hand.

Blink… blink…blink… 

Your free hand reached up to wipe your eyes, but you could feel a crack within your heart the more and more you looked at it. 

“Toji… what am I looking at right now?” your voice was trembling, but you knew exactly what you were looking at. 

“I think you know what it is, Princess.”

Princess… he hadn’t used that nickname for you in a long time, since you broke up. In the picture, you could see Kento, the very same Kento who was just in your home, who held you while you cried, carried you to your room, and everything. He was not wearing the clothes you had sent him in, but rather a black, freshly pressed suit, and his hand was outstretched, shaking with the bane of your existence, your uncle, Raden Harris. Kento had a neutral look on his face, while your uncle had a much wider smile as they shook hands. You scroll through the pictures seeing what happened in sequence, then shaking hands before entering Donna’s, one of the few restaurants in the Square.

“How… How did you even see these?” You couldn't help but ask him, shocking the phone back into his hands, standing up, and walking over one of the bookshelf walls.

As you stood there, trying your best to compose yourself, Toji spoke, “I saw them myself, was on the phone with someone who was figuring out why your uncle was even here. Ironic that I would see this at that time.”

Swiftly, you turned around, facing him, ignoring the tears that welled in your eyes, “you found out why my uncle is here?”

Toji nodded his head, “Gojo Corporation, they’re this big conglomerate that runs a lot of stuff. Heard of them, right?”

You nodded your head, allowing him to continue to speak, “Shiu, my contact, told me they’ve been trying to break into the mining industry. Your uncle heard about that, and thought about the mountains not too far from here. He wants to build a mine right here in Aquarine, and use your Orchard space to make a Quarry.”

Your eyes narrowed, “a quarry? What the hell is that?” your anger allowed the curse to easily slip through your words

Toji shrugged his shoulders, “don’t know, but needs this place gone for it to happen. So the Gojo’s were supposed to be sending someone to continue on with the plans, and on my way over here, I got more information on this Nanami guy.”

He opened his phone, this time opening his messages before shoving the device in your hands, allowing you to read the messages. 

“Kento Nanami, 27, Chief Financial Officer to the Gojo Corporation.” you mumbled, only feeling yourself going more and more numb as you glanced over the information Toji’s contact gave him.

A CFO… something that he told you that he was… to the company that would benefit from the destruction of your orchard.

“Wait, wait, that doesn’t make sense, why would he take a class?? Why would he take my invitation to come here? He…he,” you began to stutter, “he fought off those men who were attacking Megumi! Come on, there’s gotta be an explanation–”

“There is no explanation!” Toji yelled, snatching the phone out of your hand, “he’s playing you! You’ve been played! Your uncle told him all about you and they made a plan to make you sell your orchard to them!”

“But he told me that he was meeting someone, why would he let me know what he’s doing if he wanted to take it from me–”

“Princess, I know how these rich people work, they think of themselves as God, he probably thought you were too stupid to even make the connection.” He told you, but his voice slowly became muffled, as if you dunked your head underwater as you went and sat down.

Your body began to shake, as you could no longer hold back your tears. Toji, seeing your state, came over to you, wrapping his arm around you before pulling you close. Almost immediately, you snuggled yourself into him as well.

“I know it hurts, but it’s the truth, and I’ll be damned before I let this person take everything you, and your family have worked hard for.”

You sniffed, saying nothing but you nodded your head, wrapping yourself within his chest and abdomen. His familiar scent, smelling of sweat, and intense cologne, comforted you, the nostalgia of when he used to hold you after long days of work. 

Then, your phone rang, the melodious tones rang out, and your heart dropped at the sound. When you saved Kento’s number, you gave him his own ringtone, so you’d know it was him calling every time. That was the ringtone you two were hearing. Moving back, you pulled your phone out of your pockets, heartbreaking even further at the confirmation of Kento ♡ appearing on your phone screen. Toji glanced down, before seeing the name, his eyes filling with rage. Before you could decide on whether you wanted to answer it, Toji suddenly grabbed your phone, standing up to his feet before answering it. 

“Toji!” you screamed, but it was too late. 

Toji was loud, honestly, you’d never seen him yell like that. Not when Megumi made a mistake, because he rarely did, he didn’t even yell at him when he found out he was beating up bullies while at school. His words are full of venom as he tells Kento to stay away from you and from the Orchard as well. That if you even hear that he was close to you, that he’ll rip him limb from limb. He pulled the phone away from him, before ending the call, not bothering to let Kento get one word in. Toji typed away at your phone for a few more seconds, before tossing your phone back to you, reaching out and catching it.

“If he contacts you again, don’t let him near you, let me take care of this, okay?”

You opened your mouth but could find nothing to say. You could only watch as Toji walked out, his stomps heavy and ireful. He slammed the door behind him and stomped away. So now, it was just you again, your body lying across the couch as your mind began to catch up to everything that just happened. All you could do was lie there, ignoring the streaks of tears that rolled down your eyes. Was everything Kento– Nanami, told you a lie? 

A flash in your mind, his warm smile on that day as you sat in your private area with your koi and goldfish pond… were you too trusting of a man you and only met so recently? In the time you had dated Toji, he had never made you feel the way you felt for Kento. In so little time too… 

Were you too longing for love? For someone to understand you… that you would trust someone you hadn’t known for a week… to give every part of yourself to him, like you did on that fateful night?

For a moment you laid there, your mind running on every kind of emotion. Laying there aimlessly, until a slow realization that you still needed to finish preparations for tomorrow, and slowly, you pushed yourself up before wobbling abc into your kitchen. You had no time to cry anymore, you had business to finish. 

Before you knew it, it was night, and you had long finished your preparations for opening tomorrow. The lights shut off, and with heavy clouds looming over your head, you made your way towards the stairs, to your private apartment. When you hear heavy pounds on your door, your head swiftly turns around as you stare at the closed door. Slowly, you made your way over to the door. The knocks never stopped, but climbing over the couch in the welcome area, your fingers fluttering with the thin curtains, moving the thin curtains back only seeing familiar blonde hair, his heavy and large hand still pounding away at the door. 

“Please, talk to me,” you could now hear his voice through the door.

A gasp left your mouth, your hands letting go of the curtain, turning around. Your heart pounded in your chest, nervous breaths leaving your lips. The sudden movement must have caught his attention, cause the pounding stopped, and for a moment it was all silent. Then, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. You glanced behind you only to see Kento’s huge figure standing not too far from the window. You knew that he knew that you were there, yet you said nothing, just sitting there, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, can we talk, please?”

Your hand reached clenching at the fabric, feeling how your heart clenched. You wanted to, your heart wanted to, oh you so wanted to. To face the man you’ve fallen for to tell you to your face that everything you’ve heard wasn’t true. However, Toji’s words echoed in your head, the vexation and anger on his face, and it all stopped you. Frozen, your body couldn't move, even though your heart broke further underneath those pleas that left Kento’s mouth. 

A single knock against the glass of the window, then, you heard a sigh, and the last thing he said was, “I’m gonna make it right, don’t worry, please.”

You saw his figure slowly fading away, your eyes watching him through the curtain closed until you could no longer see any remnants of him.

Four long days.

That was the last time you heard from Kento. Each day that would go by, your heart would crumble, and each day, more and more, you began to believe Toji’s words. Of how he was playing you. As you stood outside, wearing Toji’s old jacket and pair of sweatpants. you carried a basket of apples towards the wagon you had parked in the back of the house. 

Today was the grand opening for your cafe, opening in two hours, and the entire town was talking about it as well. It was the last thing in your grandmother’s letter that she wanted you to do for the Orchard. 

Inside, Megumi sat on the stool you made him sit on, scrolling away at his phone. The moment he was discharged, he also came straight here, if not for his father. However, that second day Toji dropped him off with you, saying that he wants to help as much as he can. At most, you made him carry a pan of pastries, but even if that, you made him sit down and watch, not wanting his wounds to be more irritated than they already were. Yuta, Nobara, and Inumaki were in the kitchen, preparing the last of the pastries as well. 

Yuuji and Maki took the apples to the kitchen, while you stood outside, hands tucked away in your pockets. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the cool, crisp, December air. The feeling of the frosty wind nipping at your ears, bending your head back, letting out a loud sigh as you cracked your neck. Despite the heavy cloud weighing on top of you, you knew that it was no day for that, today was a happy day for you. You wanted to celebrate today, everything you’ve worked for, and this cafe was the culmination of your hard work as well. Then, you heard low humming, as well as the sounds of tires pressing up against the dirt. At first, you thought you were hearing things, but the sounds continued, before suddenly getting louder, and closer with each second. Confused, you made your way towards the front of the house, glancing around as you saw a black SUV suddenly roll up to the front. The car, most likely an expensive brand that you’ve never seen before, parked not too far from you, only leaving a few feet between you and the right headlight. Taking a step back, watching as the car turned off, the windows fully tinted not allowing you to see who exactly was inside. It couldn't have been anyone in town, the orchard wasn’t open at all, considering that apple season was over and the cafe wasn’t open for another three hours. 

The doors opened, and your eyes widened at the four people who exited out of the big SUV. Coming from the right backseat, your eyes landed on blond hair, as well as a blue dress shirt, and as well beige pants as well. You took a step back at the sight of Kento, seeing him taking your mind for a loop, but that wasn’t the last thing that furthered the discord within you. Coming around the truck, it only sent you to despair to see your uncle standing there, his sleazy smirk on his face as he held papers in his hand, within a manilla folder. Was this how he was gonna fix it? By bringing the bane of your existence here to your home? However, your eyes looked over, and your eyes could not help but narrow at the two new unknown men standing right before you. They, much like Kento, wore their own expensive suits, although they matched with each other. One man had pure white hair, with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses as well. The other man had long black hair, with a bit of it packed up in a bun in the back of his head, a kinder smile on his face. All four of them approached you, standing in front of the car. 

“The Orchard is closed right now–” you tried to speak, the fakest smile on your face, as you hoped to get them away from you and your home. 

“I heard you have a cafe here?!” The white-haired man suddenly cut into your words, as if he didn’t even hear you. 

Behind the man, the black-haired man and Kento groaned, placing their hands over their heads. 

Blinking, you tilted your head, “well, yes I do, but it’s not open right now, you’ll have to come back later.”

The white-haired man in front suddenly pouted, head and body bowing down, “please, I’ll literally buy one of everything!”

The black-haired stranger beside Kento suddenly stepped up, reaching for his white-haired friend, and lifting him up.

“There’s better ways to do this than beg, Satoru,” he stated, before turning towards you. 

He smiled, “sorry about him, he’s… a lot to handle.”

You gave him a small smile, “That’s okay… but would he really buy one of everything?” you couldn't help but ask him.

The men glanced between the white-haired man– Satoru, and yourself, before nodding his head, letting out a sigh, “yeah, he would, he lets his sweet tooth lead him a lot of the times.”

The man introduced himself as Suguru Geto, before restating the claim the man in his arms stated that they wished to see your bakery as well. You glanced over at Kento, looking at him fully for the first time, and his words echoed into his head. He looked back at you, a tentative smile on his face. 

“I’m gonna make it right, don’t worry, please.”

One chance. That was all you were gonna give him. 

Facing the two men, you nodded, before telling them to follow you. However, before any of them could move, your uncle, who you forgot was even there, suddenly interjected. 

“Excuse me, I thought we were coming here to convince her to sign the pap–” However, your uncle immediately shut up the moment that… Satoru…? turned towards him, glaring down at him. 

At that, your uncle shut up, and you couldn’t suppress the smile and giggle that left your mouth, covering your head with the old fabric of your jacket. With that, they all followed you, walking inside the main home. Inside, you could see Megumi sitting at his stool towards your right, watching his head lift up. You could tell he was confused at first, but seeing Kento walk in made his eyes widen in alarm. Almost immediately he got up, but you signaled for him to sit down. He gave you a confused look, his eyes asking you “What were you doing?” but you just gestured at him to relax, before continuing to lead your party towards the cafe entrance within the house. You led them down a hall, before approaching the side, where a wide, open doorway, took up the space of two, maybe three doors, along with a sign at the top that said “Honeyed Orchard’s Cafe” 

You walked into the space, walking past the tables and benches you had around this secondary entrance, before entering the main area of the cafe. The walls were painted an off-white, and there were hanging plants above you. The hanging lights had glass coverings, blown out to look like flowers, hanging above the small bar stools as well as the main bakery table. To your left, there were a couple of bar stools, underneath an attached table, allowing those who would be sitting to look outside the window, the town where the grove of trees was. Said window had sage green groovings as well, and the main door that led to the outside was also sage green. Walking in further, allowing all the men to see the glass casing, showing off all the pastries you and your grandmother created, pulling from her old cookbook. 

A long whistle came out of Geto’s mouth, “this is really nice,” he complimented, taking a look around. 

Seeing all the desserts in front of him, Satoru gasped, making his way towards the front, where Toge and Yuta, who were talking amongst themselves, suddenly stopped their conversation, seeing you and these four men behind you. He began speaking radically, as he basically ordered one of everything, pointing at all of it. At that, your two employees glanced over at you, seeing how you nodded, before getting to work. 

You turned towards Geto, “thank you, my grandmother, most of everything was her idea, I just brought it to life for her.”

At the corner of your eye, you could see your uncle flinch at the sudden mention of your grandmother, his mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed that, seeing Geto and Kento take a glance at each other. All of you looked over at Satoru who was handing over a huge wad of cash, both you, Toge, and Yuta’s eyes widening at the sudden look of it, before he took the boxes and walked over to one of the booths within the bakery-cafe. Geto smiled looking at him, before nodding at you and soon joining him, taking a seat right in front of him. Satoru opened the first vox on top, pulling out one of the many pastries before taking a bite. As you watched him preen over the sweets, footsteps got closer to you, the familiar smell of cologne standing right next to you. Your head turned, heart beating at the sight of Kento right beside you. His eyes looked tired, but still, he smiled down at you, hands in his pockets. This time, you could no longer hold back your smile, before jerking your head towards the couple sitting at your booth table.

“Is this your way of “making it right?”” you asked him.

But before he could answer, you could hear angry huffing coming closer, You turned around only to see your uncle coming up two steps behind you, anger rushing over his face. However, before he could say anything, Kento stepped in between the two of you, his tired eyes suddenly turning into a chilled anger, much like an angry snowstorm. 

“Any words you want to say to her can be redirected at me,” he said, your eyes widened at the gruff in his voice.

“If you have nothing to say, go sit down, we’ll deal with you soon.”

Your uncle’s face was astounded at the way Kento came to your defense, glancing between the two of you. He then narrowed his eyes, before pointing his long, bony, finger in Kento’s face.

“We had a deal, Nanami, don’t forget that,” was all he said, before going to walk away, sitting at the bar stools near the main entrance. 

You and Kento looked at each other right after, smiling at each other once more. 

“You know, you still didn’t answer my question,” you asked him, as the two of you began to walk over to the front. 

“Is this your way of fixing things?” you repeated the question one more time.

He only gave you a smile, “just trust me.”

Your lips fell open just a little, before letting out a chuckle before turning towards Yuta, “give me two apple donuts, Yuta.”

The tired-eyed teen nodded his head, before fishing out two donuts with the tongs, wrapping them up, and handing them to you. Smiling, you gave Kento one, his eyes glancing down in surprise. His smile then reappeared, before taking the donut out of your hands, pulling the familiar red and white checked parchment away, before taking one huge bite. You eat yours along with him, the two of you smiling. Although you couldn't see him, you knew that your uncle was staring at the two of you, and you couldn’t help the elation that arose within you at that moment, at his heart racing about the fact that the two of you knew each other… and the fact that his plans are in jeopardy as well. Especially on the way, Kento jumped in to defend you from him. 

Once finished with your treat, you glanced over at your new guests, watching as Satoru shared one of his pastries with Geto. Crumbling your parchment paper, you approached the two of them, wiping any crumbs off of your face as well. 

“Are you two enjoying your treats?” you asked them, ending down slightly to be face-to-face with them. 

Satoru swiftly turned his head towards you, his eyes glowing as if a kid on a high sugar rush, with a huge smile on his face, “you’re a goddess!” he suddenly exclaimed, before turning his head a bit to the side.

“You were right about this place, you won!” He suddenly exclaimed, turning around only to realize he was looking at Kento. 

“Won…?” you questioned, glancing between the two of them, “won at what?” 

But your words were drowned out by your uncle, who blew up, standing up from his seat before marching right over to the four of you. 

“This is ridiculous, I thought we were here to make her sign the papers to realize the proterpies over to me! Gojo, you told me that this was why you came here!”

Your eyes widened in shock at the name he used, as he stared at the white-haired man who slowly dropped his pastry back into its box, before turning his head glaring at him. 

“I’m sorry,” your eyes widened as his voice dropped at least three octaves, “were you speaking to me?”

The sudden chill that fell over the room the moment he spoke, only intensified the moment he stood up, facing your uncle. 

“She’s not signing those papers, and if I hear about you trying this with other people, trust me, you’ll wish you’ve never even met me.”

However, despite this, your uncle didn’t back down, despite his body shaking with fear, “this deal is one of kind, and can make a lot of people a lot money–”

He was suddenly cut off by Geto standing, unaffected by the radiation of anger that Sato– Gojo was giving off. 

“You heard him, this deal is off, and if he hears you trying to sell this off to someone else, we’ll personally deal with you.” The anger in the air intensified the moment Geto narrowed his eyes at your uncle.

Kento stood up fully, before joining the two of them, your eyes glancing between the two of them. The three of them stood together, radiating an energy you’ve never felt before, it terrified you, and you weren’t even the one they were angry at you. As you stood there, slowly relaxing that these two random men Kento brought to your home and business, weren’t random men after all, but instead held all the power behind the very company your uncle was conspiring with to steal everything you and your family had worked for. 

“Get out of here!” that came from Gojo, your head turning as your uncle jumped, dropping all the papers in his hands, before scurrying out of the bakery. 

It was all silent the moment he left, and after a few seconds, everything fully clicked for you. Your legs trembled and shook under the realization of the fact that it was over. Your uncle’s terrorization of you, your employees, your orchard, of your family’s legacy. It was over. You could feel yourself beginning to fall, your arms flailing about for some stabilization, when hands suddenly wrapped themselves around your waist, holding you right up. The smell of citrus and sage makes you look up, seeing Kento with a soft smile on his face.

“Told you to just trust me.”

The two of you locked eyes, and before you knew it, in a rush of energy, you pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around him. They locked behind his neck, and you could hear Kento give off a sound of surprise, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist. Your body began to shake, as tears, happy tears, began to stream down your face. 

“Thank you… thank you so much!” you cried in his ears, your tears beginning to stain his shirt. 

With a longing hum, Kento pressed his own cheek into your shoulder, “you’re welcome, love.”

With over six new boxes of pastries, Suguru held them in his hands, carrying them towards the car, while Satoru and Kento walked behind him. In both of their hands were two cases of apple cider, twelve in each case as well. 

“You’ve really fallen for her, ehh Kento, you’d even put your job on the line for her,” Kento’s eyes glared at Satoru’s teasing words, Satoru not caring as he nudged Kento with his elbow. 

Despite his glare, Kento’s heart softened at Satoru’s mention of you. These past four days, allowed him to realize just how, and in just a little time he ached to see you. Putting things in motion was harder than he thought, but for you, he had little to no problem with how he did so. Glancing back at the house, where you were surrounded by every one of your employees, laughing and smiling with them as well. Kento didn’t even notice the smile on his face until Satoru pointed it out.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that,” Kento heard, turning his head around to look at his friend. 

“Like what?” He couldn't help but ask him. 

“...like I smile at Suguru,” he revealed.

The two of them glanced over at the black-haired man, who had just slammed the door to their rental, before walking around to the driver seat. Suguru turned towards the two of them, before beckoning Satoru, calling him over. Satoru, looking over at Kento one last time before saying,

“Don’t let her go, don’t let your father’s words pull you from the only one that made you smile like that.”

With that, he walked away, facing his husband before giving Kento one last wave before hopping into the passenger seat. Suguru waved over at Kento as well, before getting into the SUV. As he watched the huge black car leave, he could hear quiet footsteps approaching him, glancing back and seeing you standing not too far from him. He turned around, and the two of you just looked at each other, the wind blowing in between the two of you. 

“We…” you started, “we should talk, huh?”

He blinked, before nodding his head slowly. With that, you turned around and began walking back towards the house. He said nothing, only following you, noting how the porch was empty of all your employees who were with you. He skipped in front of you, opening the door, you utter a small thank you towards him before walking inside the main house. Leading him towards the back, in the kitchen, where all the chatter that echoed through the room suddenly ceased, Kento looked up and saw six pairs of eyes all suddenly in him, all glowering, and all angry with him.

Suddenly, he swayed black spiky hair marching right up to him, his green eyes fueled with fire. However, before Megumi could say anything, you stepped in between the two of them, holding your arms out. 

“It’s okay,” you cooed, smiling at Megumi, “me and Kento have to talk, don’t worry.”

“But he–” but you shook your head, causing him to cease his words. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “the six of you go back to work please, we suddenly lost almost half of our inventory for each and every pastry and we have a big crowd coming today. I’ll be down soon.”

Looking over at them, watching as their apprehensive eyes slowly move away from the two of you, focusing on making more of everything that you suddenly lost. You were right, with Satoru buying half of the inventory you planned on for the grand opening of your bakery-cafe, and with less than three hours until the cafe opening, they need all hands on deck. Looking over Megumi, jerking your head towards them. With no other words exchanged, Megumi glances at you, and finally at him, before groaning, leaving and joining them once again. With no more obstacles, the two of you made it towards your private stairs, watching as you unlocked it, before following you to the top, to your private apartment. The lights were off, only the low glow of the cloudy sky was the only thing that allowed him to see two feet in front of him. Suddenly, a hand, soft as flowers, reached out and grabbed his much rougher ones. Kento looked up, only seeing your back as you left him on the couch, where you guided him to sit.

He watched as you walked in front of him, before taking a seat a cushion away from him, your body fully facing him. With everything, Kento never got a chance to fully look at you. Despite your clothes being covered in dirt from picking the last of the apples off the trees, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him. 

“I… want to hear everything, from the moment you arrived here, to now, everything. If you don’t mind, please.”

Kento nodded his head, sighing as he faced you, and he could feel his knees grazing with your own, “I was doing business in the city, when I got a call from Satoru, who you just met today,” you nodded at that.

“He asked me to see about this possible business deal here, and at first I was gonna decline, but he called this as a favor that I owed, so I went. He told me that he didn’t know what it was about, but that he had a feeling, so he told me to check it out, since I was already close, I came.”

“All I knew at that time was your uncle’s name, and his number. I had no idea what he was doing, or what he was planning, and I never did until the day of our meeting. When I arrived, the meeting was set for two days after I arrived, and the day after I arrived was when I first took your class.”

Suddenly, Kento reached out, having no idea why, but he wanted to hold them again, longing for the soft touch once more. 

“Since that day, I’ve never felt anything like the way I felt that day, then I did with you.” He confessed to you.

Your eyes widened, but he felt your hands clenching around his hands as he spoke, listening to every word he said. 

“I… don’t know, but since that day, I’ve wanted to know more of you, more about you. Those days we would spend time together were the best days of my life.”

Your eyes shined as you stared into Kento’s, your heart racing, his words like Cupid’s arrows, sending them straight into your heart. His eyes looked down for a moment, before looking up at you, his eyes shining, welling with tears. 

“But then I hurt you, accidentally or not, I should have asked more questions, or even made a guess that my reason for being here was a lot closer to you than I imagined,” he said, shaking his head as he looked away

You gasped, shuffling closer to him, shaking your head, “no, I should have said something, I knew my uncle was behind the attack, but I never said anything. I didn’t want to drive you away,” you said, tears no longer holding back from your eyes.

“You could never drive me away, not now and not ever, darling,” he said, one of his hands leaving your hands, resting and caressing on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the one the closest tear to it. 

“If I had known before the meeting, I never would have met with him, never would have bothered, but it was too late. So, I needed to find a way to stop your uncle from trying this project with him or with anyone else.”

“Inviting your boss all the way out here seems a little extreme, doesn’t it?” You couldn't help but ask, a playful laugh left your lips. 

Kento shrugged his shoulders, “it was all i could do to stop him entirely, if your uncle was like I thought of him, which I was correct, he would have took his deal to the Zenins,” your eyes widened at that name, “and they are much more ruthless than Satoru, i could never stop them alone. I doubt there wasn't anything they would have done if they couldn't get your orchard.”

Your eyes blinked, Toji’s words about his old family echoing in your head, it seemed like he really was right about them. 

“But I also knew Satoru, and if he thought something was a good deal, it would still take a lot to convince him not to take it. So I had to use the two things that would convince him not to, his competitive spirit as well as his sweet tooth.”

“Competitive spirit?” you questioned, before suddenly meaning Saotru’s words, him saying that Kento won after he had spoken to you while eating his desserts.

“You made a bet with your boss?” You questioned

“I made a bet with a friend, a friend who I knew couldn’t resist the call of anything sweet. I gave your deserts the highest compliments, which were true to every level as well, but he didn’t know that. I knew  that it would catch his attention well, and it seems I was right.”

“And if he didn’t, you know, like my treats?” you couldn't help but ask him,

“Then I would resign as CFO, effective immediately.”

Your mouth fell open in shock, face wide, “what?? You put your job on the line? Kento!” You shrieked, squeezing his hands.

“Like I said, I would have done anything for you, but I knew your desserts would be up to the test. I really didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“But still,” you lamented, “you shouldn’t have given something that important to me.”

Suddenly, you let out a squeal as your body was suddenly pulled forward, your thighs landed in between his legs, his arm wrapping around your waist.

Gasping out a Kento, letting go of his hands, instead wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I feel like you're not listening to me, when I said that I’ll do anything for you, I meant that. Plus you said it yourself, “I’m getting the sense that you don’t enjoy the job as much as you want to…” You were right, I didn't enjoy that job, I hated it and everyone around me knew it.”

You looked into his eyes, “Kento…”

His grip suddenly let off a squeeze, a slight, hitched gasp leaving your lips, “the time I’ve spent with you, it makes me want to give all of it up. All the money I’ve made from this job doesn’t matter, I’ve made more in a lifetime to sustain myself. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Shifting your legs, so they could sit comfortably on his lap, you couldn’t help the way heat began to blossom within you. 

“All that matters to me is you, and if I have to leave it all behind for you, then I will.”

“Kento…” you could say anything but his name, your heart overwhelming you. 

“I love you, and I don’t care for how long we have known each other, this is the truth, my truth.”

You lunged at him, holding him in a tight hug, resting your head within the crook between his neck and shoulders, your sniffles muffled in his shirt. 

“I’m assuming that my feelings are returned, then?” he chuckled in your ear.

Releasing him, your noses grazing each other, your eyes and face streaming with tears, and before you knew it, you had bent down, pressing your lips against his. You could feel his shock, Kenot definitely not expecting you to do something as bold as this, yet you couldn't care, especially not after he relaxed, before feeling him beginning to kiss you back. He tasted slightly sweet, of the apple donut the two of you ate together. As you kissed, your legs spread slightly, allowing your hips to slowly grind against him, feeling a slight groan leaving his lips.

With your lungs begging for air, slowly letting go, taking deep breaths, a sliver of spit connecting your wet lips with his own. Nothing but the sounds of your breaths, before looking into his eyes, they were dark, filled with a mixture of love and lust, and it was all for you. 

“Kento…” you trailed off, but he shook his head,

“We shouldn’t,” he tried, but your nails dug into his hair, keeping his eyes right on you, “you,”  he let out a gasp as your lips soon attached themselves to his neck, “you have the cafe to open–fuck–” he suddenly choked, his head being thrown back at a certain spot at his neck. 

Glancing over, you looked at the clock, watching the two hands click around the 7 and 9 numbers, before looking back at Kento, smirking.

“Grand opening is in two hours… I’m sure we’ll be finished before then, if not, I'm sure the kids downstairs can handle it, Kento,” you teased, smirking as your tongue slipped out of your mouth, slowly trailing against his neck. 

He let out another shaky gasp at the sound of his name, your tongue, his grips sliding down to your baggy sweatpants, squeezing your bottom. 

“BOSS!! We’re low on apple cider! And we got over a hundred people coming! Stop locking lips with your boyfriend and get down here!”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Maki pounding away at the door, the two of you jumping at the sudden sound. You glanced at each other, suppressing your smile while seeing Kento’s tentative own appearing on his face, 

“Guess they couldn't handle themselves,” Kento joked, before lifting you up on your feet and fixing his clothes. 

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, as you pulled your hoodie down, “more like they just want to block my blessings, they can easily make that apple cider by themselves”

Turning around towards your door, before taking a step before suddenly being flipped around, a squeal leaving your mouth before being muffled. Your lips pressed into a sudden kiss that disappeared as quickly as it came. Eyes widen, looking up at Kento who simply winked at you before keeping his arm right around your waist. With no other words, your own arm wrapped around his hips before walking towards the door.

SIX YEARS LATER

The hot summer sun shined down on the two of them. The sweat on his brow slowly dripped down, his arm reaching up as he wiped the slate liquid off his face, swaying from his blond eyebrows. Then, with a lot of force, he lifted the heavy ax with his hands, holding it high in the sky, he brought it down with equal force. The sharp edge of the ax sliced into the rotting wood, the strength easily splitting it into little pieces. Behind him, he could hear a little bit of grunting, glancing behind him, he saw Yuuji’s foot underneath a shovel, the metal part dug underneath the roots, and the ground lifting along with the roots. 

“Yuuji, I told you to leave that to me, you need to finish grinding the rotting wood,” Kento spoke, slowly placing the ax down in a safe place. 

The pink-haired young adult whines, “you’ve been doing a lot of this recently, I can’t let you do everything! Boss told me to help you!”

Kento shook his head, a smile on his face, “she knows better than to think I’ll let you do this, go grind the wood, we need it for the compost for the new trees from the nursery.”

Yuuji pouted, but he let go of the shovel, walking over to the pile of split wood, along with the woodchipper and its attached container, sitting on the stool. However, before he could turn it on, a voice called out to the two of them.

“Daddy!!” A voice screamed

Kento’s furrow relaxed, a smile appearing on his face as he turned around, only to be faced with a beautiful site. At two years old, his daughter, Kaia, was full of energy and spirit, her smile wide as she was running up to him. Kento looked over at Yuuji, seeing him already up and collecting the ax and shovel to keep away from her as she approached them. Behind them, you were walking up, your curls out, slicked up and held together, shining against the summer sun, wearing a simple, bright purple bodycon dress. In your arms, a basket hung from your elbow, probably with lunch for everyone out here. 

“Oh, my baby,” his smile was wide, as his daughter ran into his arms, her little arms wrapping around his neck as much as she could. 

“Daddy, you stink,” her little face grimaced as she sat in her father’s arms. 

Her words didn’t deter Kento, in fact, it only made his smile wider, “oh I stink, huh?” is all he said, before wrapping his arms around her tighter, hearing her little squeals as she tried to squirm out of his hold. 

By the time Kento let him go, you had already arrived at the area where they were working. Yuuji screamed “Boss!”  before making his way over towards you. 

“I see the two of you have been working hard,” is the first thing you said, running your fingers through Yuuji’s hair as he gave you a long hug. 

Kaia ran back over to you, her arms wrapping around your legs, easily attaching herself to you. Kento walked over to you, seeing a smirk slowly appear on your face as he stood right in front of you. His arms crossed as you tilted your head, following his actions and crossing your arms as well. 

“Well, hello to you, Mr. Nanami,” you teased, slightly straining your head to look up at him.

Almost immediately, his arms shot out, wrapping themselves around your waist, “and hello to you, Mrs. Nanami.”

Kento leaned down, prepared to kiss you, his wife when all of a sudden a loud “eeeewwww” suddenly stopped the two of you. Kent glanced around, while you looked down, no longer feeling a pressure on your legs. 

“That’s nasty,” your daughter called out, sticking her tongue out as she sat in Yuuji’s arms. 

“Come on Kaia, let’s leave the two of them alone.” Yuuji said, turning around while holding your daughter.

Kento heard giggles leaving your mouth, his heart beating as he heard them. Even after all these years, you could still incite such a reaction from him, his cheeks already pink from the hot summer sun, only deepening as your hands slide from his arms to his hips. 

“If you're gonna go, you should take this basket, it’s got lunch for all of us,” you called out to Yuuji, who swiftly came and took the basket out of your hands.

Kaia shifted from his arms to his back, commanding Yuuji like a horse to go faster, running into the orchard towards the pond. Now with the two of you alone, nothing stopped him from leaning down, softly pressing his lips up against your glossy ones, so familiar with the texture, urging him to deepen the kiss. Despite the two of you living together and mainly working in the same place, he kissed you as if he had been away for a month. He could feel your hands gripping the fat and smile of his hip, your head and back bending backward, your knees buckling underneath the pressure and pleasure of the kiss.

The moment he let go, you let out a breathy “Kento,” your eyes fluttered as you looked at him. 

Four long years, it’ll be four years in the winter season when he made a decision that changed his life for the good. In those four years, he quit his job at Gojo Inc., but still kept his stocks in the company, as well as a well-packaged pension, a gift from Satoru and Suguru when he made his decision a year after meeting you. The two of you got married two weeks after he quit his job, and nine months after that, the two of you welcomed your gorgeous and lovely daughter as well. In those four years, life has changed immensely for both you and Kento.

Your uncle no longer came by, no more threats to you for the orchard. Kento, Satoru and Suguru made sure of that. Megumi went abroad for school, pushed by you, Yuuji, and Toji as well. With confirmation that you and he will talk every week, he went on a prestigious scholarship to one of the top schools globally. Yuta, Inumaki, Maki, and Nobara all go to the college closest to the town, with them still coming on the weekends and breaks to work. Yuuji decided to follow in his older brother’s footsteps, working as a junior officer at the station, but he still works at the Orchard as well. 

It’s been an eventful four years.

He hadn’t spoken to his father in two years, an obligatory call when the man’s birthday floated around the corner. After that call, it was time to let him go, hiring an at-home nursing company to take care of the elderly man until his final days. The feeling of you pinching his side brought him out of his mind, looking down at you to see your face, while smiling, eyes filled with concern.

“Everything okay up here?” you mumbled, one of your hands leaving his side.

He shivered as he felt your hands run through his hair, the shorter nails scratching against his scalp. 

“Everything’s fine,” he mumbled back, his head bending back in slight thrill at the feeling of your running lines through his hair.

“Just happy, at everything that’s happened, how much my life changed the moment I came here.”

You smiled, lifting yourself up at the tips of your toes, before placing a longing kiss on his cheek, “I’m assuming it changed for the better?” you questioned.

He nodded his head, before tightening his grip on you, his heart leaping out of his chest as he heard your squeals as he dipped your body down. 

“Kento!” You squealed, holding onto him, as he leaned over you, beginning to press kisses all along your face. 

The sun hovered over the two of you, shining over your love as he kissed you, and you accepted his love in full force as well. In the background, you could hear your little girl telling the two of you to hurry up in her little sweet voice. Slowly lifting you up, Kento held you close, feeling your head leaning against his arms as the two of you walked into the Orchard, towards the pond. 

What good is a man, if he is a lost man?

He’s not good to anyone at all, but now a lost man has something to look forward to. A light to guide him. 

A lost man has been found and surrounded with the love he deserves. 

[flaggermuser]

Home Is Where His Heart Is

1,266 words || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Trauma, CPTSD, minor spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, Codependency ||

Sequel to When You Loved Me which contains spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4

Divider made badly by me

Thank you to @theonlymanintheskyisme for being my beta hostage and @homeb0ys for always having the perfect gif or picture

“You should have been raised in a home with a family who loved you.”

It’s 1 am.

The frantic knocking had woken you with a start and you’d rushed to put a robe on, carefully walking down the stairs, concerned about who was at your door this late at night.

Turning on the light in the hall, you slowly advance towards the door, undoing the various locks but keeping the chain on, opening the door enough to peek through the gap only to close it again and remove the chain, then open the door.

“John?”

Homelander stands before you, trembling with red-tinged eyes. He falls forward and you just about catch him, his arms around you tight, being careful not to crush you.

“Oh, John,” you say softly. “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. The room can’t hurt you anymore.”

You knew this would happen.

Underneath it all, he’s still that scared little boy you cared for, the one you held in your arms when he cried, the one you’d tuck into bed when he exhausted himself.

After everything they did and, despite the affection you showed him, it’s no surprise that he had nightmares.

Even the most powerful man in the world isn’t immune to night terrors.

You pull away just enough, managing a smile and cupping his cheek in your hand, wiping away some residual tears.

“Come on, I’ve got a spare room. It won’t be as luxurious as what you’re used to but it’s yours for as long as you need it.”

He doesn’t say a word, he just quickly nods his head so you move out of the way, welcoming him back into your home. You’re not sure if he had anything to bring with him or left in such a hurry that he couldn’t grab anything.

However, you were prepared for this.

There was always going to be an attachment, you’d followed his life, unable to let go of the little boy you left behind. It seems now that the attachment goes both ways, not that you mind.

The prodigal son has returned home.

You’re making up for lost time, repenting for your sins.

“I doubt that’s very comfortable to sleep in,” you remark about his suit, only for him to silently agree. “I bought some things for you, just in case.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a whisper, barely audible.

“Come on then.”

It’s nice.

Homelander is used to the opulence that comes with being the Leader of the Seven but somehow, being in a simple bed in a room barely the size of his bathroom is the most comfortable he’s been in years, dressed in simple cotton pyjamas.

It didn’t seem to matter to you that he was a grown man in his 40s, you’d still tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead.

Whether that was a conscious or subconscious decision, he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, it makes him feel safe, just as it did when he was young. However, instead of being alone in a sterile room, he’s in a spare room in your home and you’re just down the hall if he needs anything.

But he has everything he needs.

His eyes slowly drift close and he begins to fall asleep, his mind going to a place of peace. It’s been some time since he’s been able to sleep soundly since he wasn’t plagued with horrendous memories.

The last time he felt this safe, this secure, was when you were there.

“It’s okay John, you get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Even in his sleep, he can feel the smile spreading across his lips, feeling his body melt into the bed. He's never felt this kind of love before, the love of a parent, of someone who truly cared about him to the point they ruined their career.

Of course, once he found you, he did some digging into what happened between you being fired from Vought and when he showed up at your door.

You were blacklisted from scientific pursuits - Vought was determined to keep you silenced.

So you took up a job as a science teacher in a nearby high school, just barely making enough money to afford a comfortable life yet it didn’t seem to have bothered you. After all, you’d managed to buy a nice enough home in a remotely good neighbourhood.

Plus without a partner or children to support, you didn’t have to worry.

Yet he feels bad for you, after all, he’s the reason you’ve spent most of your life alone, atoning for your guilt over abandoning him. In his dreams, he imagines what life with you may have been like; waking up every day to pancakes, going to little league games, getting an A on his test and putting it on the fridge.

You would have made the fake childhood real.

However, now you’re more than making up for it.

“I want you to know, John. I need you to know, that you’ll always have a place here and in my heart."

And for once, he can believe it.

Morning comes.

Light peaking in between the curtains stirs him awake.

For the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time he can ever remember, he’s slept through the night unhindered by nightmares. All thanks to a cosy little bed and a kiss goodnight on the forehead.

For a childless person, you’re incredibly nurturing.

As he trudges down the stairs, still half asleep, he manages to find the kitchen where a big stack of pancakes with bacon, accompanied by a glass of milk, sits on the table, on a place setting almost hastily put together.

It seems as if you don’t get company often.

He’ll be more than happy to change that.

“Good morning, John. How are you feeling today?”

He knows the words before you speak them, he’d heard them from you often enough, in the months when he saw you daily.

Before they made you leave him.

“Did you sleep okay?”

I don’t remember the last time I slept better.

He nods, taking his seat, eagerly digging into the breakfast you’ve made him. The parental domestication of it all warms his heart and his soul, enough to keep a small part of his humanity alive.

“Good?”

Vought has access to all the top chefs in the world, able to make anything his heart could desire but nothing they’ve made tastes anywhere as good as these simple pancakes.

A premade mix or made from scratch, they’re a damn sight tastier than anything he’s had before.

Maybe there is some truth behind the saying ‘made with love’.

“Yes, thank you, Tawny.”

You still, and he can hear your heart beating a little faster as you press your hand to your mouth. You’re trying to hold back your tears, but it’s clear that you recall the same memory, one they tried so hard to erase in his mind.

“What’s your favourite animal?”

“Well John, I like owls because, just like me, they’re awake at night. I like tawny owls the best.”

Tawny.

It’s a simple nickname, one he came to associate with you as a parent, as his parent.

He remembers back when he was reading a book on Roman mythology, one of the many books on history that he read, where owls in ancient myth were described as symbols of wisdom and knowledge.

It also represented foresight, intelligence and the ability to see what others cannot.

Where they all saw an experiment, you saw a little boy in desperate need of love.

“You’re welcome, John.”

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After: Act 1

⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…

A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune. 

Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together. 

It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.

With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories. 

The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky. 

But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom. 

For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it. 

There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells. 

Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.

It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss. 

Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss. 

Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself. 

And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true. 

What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to. 

The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories. 

An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.

Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive. 

As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room. 

Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber. 

Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work. 

The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation. 

Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful. 

Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.” 

A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.” 

Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way. 

Blossom.

Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with. 

You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below. 

“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts. 

“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight. 

“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.” 

Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet. 

With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.

With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them. 

“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory. 

“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating. 

“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.” 

“A dream?” 

“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream. 

“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!” 

With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.” 

With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.” 

The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right. 

The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles. 

The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now. 

The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles. 

Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them. 

A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance. 

A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket. 

“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream. 

“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?” 

“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.

“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower. 

“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.” 

A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it. 

“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends. 

With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.” 

“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest. 

“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?” 

Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?” 

Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas. 

“How about some fresh flower petals?” 

“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!” 

“Berries?” 

“How about red chilli peppers?” 

The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy. 

But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.

“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.” 

“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”

Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom. 

You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming. 

“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.” 

That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom. 

“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin. 

Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again. 

“I’m coming, Nana!” 

The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.

This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by. 

Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams. 

And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do. 

“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?” 

There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom. 

The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.

Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.

It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.  

The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground. 

The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll. 

After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues. 

“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.

“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”

After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation. 

Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud. 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.” 

“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince. 

Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.” 

With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.” 

You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after. 

You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place. 

“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves. 

It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born. 

She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.  

Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all. 

Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near. 

“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.  

Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality. 

Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods. 

Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest. 

On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.

Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil. 

The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets. 

The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles. 

As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance. 

Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them. 

“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind. 

“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.” 

The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.

“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”

“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.

“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!” 

To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”

“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more. 

“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.” 

Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.

“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!” 

“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop. 

“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.” 

Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further. 

Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.  

“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words. 

“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”

“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!” 

For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening. 

One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers. 

The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you. 

At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you. 

“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!” 

With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature. 

Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”

“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly. 

Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed. 

Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back. 

“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why. 

“But it’s for Nana!”

Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!” 

As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain. 

It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it. 

As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet. 

“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do. 

“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.

Right there. 

Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape. 

Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below. 

“Hold on, Poppy!” 

Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left. 

“Aahhh, Blossom!” 

“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder. 

Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned. 

“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon. 

Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you. 

Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away. 

In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move. 

“Come on, ________!” 

Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away. 

You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you. 

And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer. 

You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake. 

You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it. 

That is how you miss your footing. 

Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over. 

“Aaahhh!!” 

“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!” 

“I’m trying!”

While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!” 

You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out. 

“No! Keep your hands off of her!” 

All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll. 

As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it. 

And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles. 

But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason. 

Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?” 

“That’s—” 

There is no way.  

Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing. 

Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream. 

“Hang on! Stay where you are!”

The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on. 

He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel? 

Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you. 

“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache. 

With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.” 

A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded. 

Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer. 

Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top. 

Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly. 

The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff. 

Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree. 

Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip. 

A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height. 

You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time. 

Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight. 

You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks. 

But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.” 

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest. 

A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you. 

And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you. 

It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence. 

All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes. 

“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself. 

Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider. 

As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,

“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” 

He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.” 

An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach. 

And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you. 

It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams. 

Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”  

“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.” 

“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?” 

Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger. 

Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle. 

You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince. 

He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?” 

Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—” 

“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.

You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince. 

“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.” 

“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap. 

“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll. 

The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!” 

After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness. 

“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him. 

Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places. 

As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence. 

But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much. 

“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.” 

Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.

“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.” 

He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.” 

You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.” 

The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?” 

Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?” 

Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.” 

“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.” 

“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse. 

Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?” 

With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?” 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?” 

“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.” 

You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech. 

“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.” 

The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”

“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—” 

Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.  

“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?” 

You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her. 

But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!

With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”

“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”  

Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon. 

But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after. 

Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime. 

“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother. 

Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?” 

Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.” 

Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.” 

“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.  

“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier. 

“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?” 

Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.” 

“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?” 

“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.

Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature. 

“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.” 

Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction. 

“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?” 

“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.” 

Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish. 

It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom. 

“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit. 

She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up. 

Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.” 

Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name. 

At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude. 

Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people. 

By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook. 

As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber. 

“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before. 

“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.” 

Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.” 

This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?” 

Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.” 

All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?” 

The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.

After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain. 

The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green. 

The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”

Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples. 

The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen. 

The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms. 

The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother. 

Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.

Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—” 

“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering. 

“Y-your Majesty?” 

Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother. 

“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before. 

“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?” 

The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water. 

“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?” 

Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening. 

“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.” 

The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.

He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.

“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear. 

“My-my Queen? What do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!” 

“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—” 

The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage. 

Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—

Now it’s too late. 

When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut. 

How? How could this be?

Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face. 

The face that she wishes so desperately to forget. 

“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice. 

“My Queen? What—what do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear. 

“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away. 

Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.” 

The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even. 

Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination. 

Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.

“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.” 

Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing. 

“Oh, my!” 

Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.” 

The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you. 

Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real. 

That you are now standing right in front of the castle. 

The castle.

The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding. 

And it will be your wedding. 

It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom. 

Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage. 

Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress. 

Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.

The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip. 

The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember. 

From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.  

From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle. 

Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight. 

Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince. 

“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage. 

“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.

“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head. 

“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.  

Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?” 

Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision. 

Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go. 

“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”

You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.

“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.” 

“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.” 

Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.” 

Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!” 

Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away. 

“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!” 

Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.

At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?” 

Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.” 

Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal. 

“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.” 

Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”

While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.” 

“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?” 

Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down. 

“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?” 

Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.” 

Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.” 

“Oh, right! Absolutely.” 

Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden. 

“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again. 

With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held. 

While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she? 

She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation. 

Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?” 

The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.” 

The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries. 

Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away. 

They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket. 

The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.

“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens. 

“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?” 

Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.” 

Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here. 

“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back. 

Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild. 

“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?” 

“What are you planning to do?” 

Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt. 

“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing. 

Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests. 

“Nooooo!” 

“Blossom!” 

Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them. 

“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?” 

Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.” 

With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind. 

“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden. 

At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost. 

It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go. 

While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses. 

Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right? 

But speaking of Sir Noah—

I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they? 

You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon. 

Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby. 

The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.

“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises. 

“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.” 

The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.” 

Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly. 

“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh. 

“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then. 

“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.

Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier. 

“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.” 

It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt. 

“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.

“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything. 

“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.” 

“My—wish?” 

“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?” 

“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”

Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.

“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”

“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.” 

“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind. 

It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier. 

“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.  

And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.

“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before. 

The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere. 

Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden. 

The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home. 

The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water. 

The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before. 

The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away. 

There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time. 

The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home. 

Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it. 

Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.

Just like a spell would. 

At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.

She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin. 

Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.

Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding. 

The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?

Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.

On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden. 

Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden. 

It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention. 

“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!” 

When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier. 

“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away. 

Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you. 

“No! ________!” 

The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer. 

But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain. 

“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks, 

“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.” 

“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.” 

Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.

“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”

All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades. 

Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne. 

Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating. 

“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?” 

A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.” 

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[selenezq]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

At the encouragement of my lovely friends, my first smutty fic is here. It's a song fic and I hope you like it. Edited and Beta Read by @hurthermore and @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW tentacle fucking, dom Alastor

Aphrodite

"I don't wanna be loved, I just wanna get fucked. I don't wanna get hurt, I just wanna get some"

Your sweet melodic voice echos in the opulent bathroom as you sing.

"So use your hands to touch my body, use your words to say you want me."

You continue singing along as you brush your long voluminous hair; your painted fingernails absentmindedly drumming on the marble sink counter. You were sensually swaying your hips along to the beat. Your lithe body moves with the ease and grace of someone who thought no one was watching.

"I don't wanna be loved, I just wanna be filling a hole in my bed" you continue singing, trying your best to be quiet. You certainly didn't want the other occupants of the hotel to hear you.

"I don't wanna get drunk just to go home alone when the night ends," your usually clear voice becoming a little emotional at the words you are singing. Your hips still swaying enchantingly to the beat. Despite your best efforts to keep the others from hearing you sing, you had caught the attention of someone in the hotel.

You didn't notice him watching you from the shadows, his gaze following your every move. The way your hands slid down your beautiful body as you shimmied around to the music made him feel things he never thought he would. Which in turn made him angry. He couldn't understand why he found himself so drawn to you. His eyes flared red with anger despite the usual smile that remained on his face.

"You've got a body and you're like me, on my knees I'm Aphrodite," he watched you sing from the shadows absolutely entranced by your voice.

"Call me dirty, say it nicely just don't ever call me wifey," you sang with a lovely shake of your plump ass. The flimsy piece of cloth you called a nightgown rode up, exposing the luminous skin of your upper thigh to him. He briefly considered palming himself from the shadows.

Disgusted and enraged at the thoughts you had inspired in him he chose this moment to detach from the shadows, becoming corporeal. You suddenly let out a delectable squeak of fear as you noticed Alastor suddenly join you from your view in the large mirror that ran the length of the wall.

Before you could even fully turn around he had materialized the chain that bound your soul to him. The green glow lit up the bathroom eerily. With a tug of the chain Alastor had you stumbling to your knees. Your soft skin hit the cold tile harshly and you felt a moment of pain.

"You startled me," you murmer softly; your wide eyes looking up at him through thick lashes. From this position he had an unobstructed view of your ample cleavage.

"This is how you waste your time?" Alastor spits derisively. His anger feels palpable, dangerous even. Unsure of what you've done to anger the radio demon your lip quivers a little.

"I didn't mean to disturb you or anyone," you quickly say; The apology falling from your lips sincerely.

"I think you wanted me to hear you sing this filth pet," he says his voice sounding dark and staticky. He can't help the longing he feels for you seeing you here on your knees in supplication for him.

He starts to wind the long chain that is attached to the glowing collar on your neck. The clinking of the chains that bound you to to him reverberates in the bathroom. You are dragged slowly, inch by inch, until you are right at his feet. He threads his sharp claws in your hair and jerks your head up to look at him. You feel fear course through you, laced with arousal. You clench your thighs together in an attempt to hide it.

"You have no idea what you do to me do you," he utters, his voice harsh. He bends sharply at the waist bringing his face quickly down to yours. You feel his breath hot on your face. Gazing up into his glowing red eyes, you see the madness that lays there. You should feel more afraid but instead you can feel your panties getting wetter by the second.

"No I dont?" You whisper unsure of what Alastor will say. You had noticed the way he had been behaving strangely to you lately. Leaving the room anytime you walked in. You weren't sure just what you had done to upset the powerful overload but you knew being on the receiving end of his wrath was not a place you wanted to stay.

"You," Alastor hissed angrily tightening his grip on your hair; hair he noticed felt silky smooth against his hand. "Have been driving me absolutely wild. Making me feel out of control and have thoughts I've never had before," he finished his voiced laced with vitriol.

Pain mixed with pleasure for you. You tried your best to clench your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the growing arousal making your pussy slick. You head was held at a harsh angle as you gazed up at Alastor. "I'm sorry,"these words fell from your lips in an attempt to placate his anger.

"The things I want to do to you Pet," Alastor uttered removing his hand from your hair in an attempt to gain control over himself. You continue looking up, unwilling to break the eye contact.

"Then do them," you dare him bravely.

As soon as the words leave your mouth it's like the dam to his self control was broken. He roughly yanks you up off the floor. You're barely on your feet before he's using his shadows to pull you into the ground. Inky black tendrils wrap around you as your world falls out from under you.

Before you can even register the pitch black void you've been sucked into you find yourself standing in a room you've never seen before. Bones line the walls, and you notice an entire pocket dimension bayou. This must be Alastors room. As quickly as you arrived you find yourself being pushed roughly down onto a bed.

You fall on your back with a thud. Before you can even register how soft the sheets underneath you are a cold tentacle pulls you down so your legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. Alastor looms over you, his grin wide and sinister as he gazes down at you.

"Be careful what you wish for; Not many desire to see what I'm capable of, darling." Alastor said his voice laced with promise. With his words multiple tendrils of shadow burst up perilously from the ground, coiling around your arms and legs until you can't move at all. His smile widens into something more predatory and all together sinister.

Stalking around the bed until he's standing close enough to trail his claw down your cheek, his sharp tips just barely pressed into your soft skin. Turning your face so your gaze met his, he lets out a triumphant hiss of static. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Alastor growls menacingly.

He takes a moment to admire your form, bound, helpless, and vulnerable before him. He licks his lips in anticipation. With but a shift of his will, he has another tentacle sliding across your leg, and up your skirt. The cold feeling of his shadow appendage on your warm, flushed skin shocks you into arching your back as best you can. With a harsh tug, the tentacle pulls the flimsy piece of fabric, covering you to the side. Your already slick cunt being exposed to the cool air causes a breathy gasp to pull itself from your throat.

"What a delight it is to see you so utterly helpless and at my mercy." Alastor asserts. His tentacle finding your clit and rubbing soft, teasing, circles. "I've thought about this more often than I should." he confesses. His gaze takes over your form as you look entirely debauched tied up with his tentacle massaging your most sensitive part. You try your best to hold back the breathy moan vying to escape.

Abruptly and quickly he's leaning down close enough that you can feel his breath fanning out over your face. "Don't you dare hold back the sounds of the pleasure only I can give you, pet" he hisses angrily.

"Yes sir, I won't." you whimper softly.

"Good girl." he says giving your head a condescending pat.

Without warning a second tentacle plunges into your warm, wet, pussy. You cry out in ecstasy, head falling back against the pillow.

"You're so beautiful for me like this," Alastor says, fervently reaching out a claw to stoke your cheek. A gentle contrast to the tentacles intense pulsating movements. They squelch loudly in and out of your drenched cunt with renewed vigor as your cries of pleasure get louder. Each new thrust has you clamouring Alastors praises. The appendage at your clit circling at a brisk pace.

"Ah ah Alastor!" you exclaim, pitch rising with each continued movement in your cunt.

"You'll have to try harder than that with your words if you want something princess." He remarks, gazing down at you with manic glee. The outline of his massive cock was hard, almost strained against the fabric of his pants.

"P-p-please Alastor, I need to cum, I want to cum." you beg shamelessly as you start to feel your sweet release creeping up.

"Since you've asked so prettily and politely I don't see why not. You may cum now, pet." He commands authoritatively.

With his words something in you finally snaps, euphoria crashing over you in waves. The tentacles wrapped around your body hold you down as your orgasm wracks through your body with intense pleasure. The ones inside of you still not ceasing, fucking in and out of you through your entire climax. The sounds of your wanton chanting of his name as you finish, echoing around his room.

Only after your body has gone limp does he release you and recall his shadowy magic back. He steps close and smooths some hair back from your debauched, glowing face. "You were such a good girl, taking it so well." he coos at you with admiration. "You may rest here until you recover." He says matter of factly. Stepping away from you he straightens his tie, and smooths any non existent wrinkles from his suit. You mentally note how unfair it is that you look so thoroughly ravished while he remains composed.

"Now if you'll excuse me dear, I've got some business to attend to." he says walking to the door. Taking one long, last look at your panting form. The look of bliss on your face as your chest moves up and down while you pant for breath. And without so much as a goodbye, he opens the door and exits the room leaving you dazed, and spent.

The song this fic was based on.

[gingerteawrites]

BY THE HEARTH: Meeting Yuji

A/N: Welcome to the second part of this mini-series! I am so glad to have you read this piece. Make sure to read the prologue here before you continue with this. Please let me know what you liked (or maybe did not like) about the piece, and I'll be sure to take that into consideration with the following parts. Enjoy!

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~1K

banner from @cafekitsune

ACT II:

You woke up with a stiffness in your neck, groaning as you tried adjusting your position in the bed. You tried rolling your body away from the source of light, only to realize that you had fallen asleep and stayed in a sitting position all night. Heavy lids finally opened, squinting at the sunlight that dimly filtered into the opulent bedroom. It reflected off the overhead chandelier, causing thousands of fluttering lights to glimmer on the chamber’s walls. Still in a sleepy haze, you removed the velvety cover from your lower body and rested your feet on the floor, leaning on your hands against the edge of the bed. You sighed, finally looking up to examine the room.

He did not come, everything looks the same as last night. Your lips pursed in thought.

A resounding knock on the heavy door pulled you out of your haze, and a new fleet of servants filtered in, not waiting for you to respond. You sat up straight, startled by their sudden entrance. They all carried indifferent looks, carrying a multitude of items in tow. You finally relaxed a bit when you saw Alma enter last, closing the door behind her before she turned to smile gently at you.

“Good morning Your Highness. We are here to help you get ready and serve you breakfast”, she explained, inviting you to sit at the vanity.

You smiled back politely and greeted the woman “Good morning Alma.”

They all worked to get you ready, helping you change into a pastel gown with floral appliques and pinning your hair up into a loose bun. Another group of servants plated the breakfast which you ate slowly, noticing that all the dishes were from your homeland. You itched for a good conversation, looking around for someone to talk to, but everyone you settled on averted their gazes, while Alma, who had shown some modicum of kindness to you seemed preoccupied with quietly directing the servants to clean up in various ways. She had to be the head maid but was here assisting you personally. Odd, you thought.

You turned your attention back to the food, thinking of your cheerful ladies-in-waiting back home. What a shame it was that they did not let anyone from home accompany you. In many ways, this marriage felt like your kingdom abandoning you; selling you away for political advantages. But you had been given the choice. You had agreed, so you shook the negative thoughts out of your head. You were doing your duty. Despite the fact that you did not know who your husband was. That he had not written you the customary courting letters. And that you had not seen him since your wedding. You had agreed, so you had to live with the consequences.

You soon finish the breakfast, wiping at your mouth with the napkin and setting the silverware onto your empty plate. The servants took this as a cue and started taking the utensils away. You adjusted your dress, and stood, walking towards Alma, who still stood by the door, giving instructions to some young maids outside.

“Alma, am I allowed to leave this room?”, you ask, and she startled a bit, directing her attention towards you.

“Of course Your Majesty,” she said, bowing her head slightly in response.

“I expected to have breakfast with my husband this morning…” you remarked, trying to sound casual to assess her response

She waved her hands, donning an apologetic smile as she quickly explained “His Majesty usually has breakfast in his office, he is a very busy man.”

You inched closer, head tilting slightly at her words a dedicated king… Or maybe just a workaholic you hummed in thought

“I want to get some fresh air,” you announced, holding your hands behind your back. Alma nodded immediately, calling over two servants who stood not far from you “Of course Your Majesty, let us accompany you to the gardens.”

You smiled at her quick response, At least I am allowed to move within the castle.

The maids gathered around you, flanking your sides as they prepared for the little excursion. They pushed your heavy doors open, allowing for the group to walk out into the gigantic hallways. The stone, which had seemed more ragged and dull the night before now held a certain glow. The glow of resilience, like something sacred that had witnessed many a thing. The crests engraved into the pillar were surrounded by flags that hung heavy, displaying the territory’s richness. You held your breath, carefully examining the decor, reminded of your own smallness in this place. These gigantic walls held a history you were so separated from, and a growing sense of foreignness enveloped you.

Your group passed various servants and guards in the castle, offering a range of reactions at you, their new queen. Some threw curious glances your way, quickly averting their gazes when you noticed their looks, while others single-mindedly focused on the tasks at hand, ignoring you completely. Towels were being carried around, floors scrubbed and instructions shared, bringing the cold castle to life with the bustle of its inhabitants. You kept walking, observing the new scenery with keen interest.

Your party finally reached the gardens, which sprawled open in a scape of flowers and trees. The outside air felt moist but cool, carrying the remnants of last night’s storm. You closed your eyes and let it fill your lungs, stepping out onto the cobblestone path that snaked around the garden. Your eyes reopened with a smile, the breeze caressing your cheek as a silent welcome.

“We could wait here if you would like to walk through the garden alone, Your Majesty,” Alma announced, noting your delighted expression. You turned to her, eyebrows raised in surprise at her suggestion “I assure you there is nowhere unsafe within the castle walls.” she added.

“Oh no, that was not my concern,” you waved your hand and shook your head. “Thank you for the suggestion, I would like to do that.”

She nodded, offering another smile and stood a few paces away with the other servants to allow you room to wander. You engaged on the stone path that curved into a deeper part of the garden, turning back to see that they had not moved, only their eyes followed your movements. As you ventured deeper, the group eventually faded out of sight and you focused on admiring the white lily bushes that littered the entry of the path. The warmth of spring had yet to take full force, still, the flowers already showed signs of bloom, small buds and green leaves covering each plant. The trees still lay fruitless, and your fingers brushed against the bark of a fig tree as you thought of its future growth. Birds chirped melodiously over you, and you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment of peace.

It’s not all bad. I don’t have to have a bad life here, you mused, your heart filling with silent encouragement.

After some time, you wandered into a small opening in a more isolated corner of the garden. The space held an intricately carved fountain in the middle, and two benches across from each other that faced it. You sat down and titled your head back to enjoy slowly moving clouds, noting the small birds that dashed overhead.

Your moment of respite was interrupted by the sounds of quick steps running in your direction, causing you to crane your neck towards the corner from which they came. You thought they might have belonged to a small dog, but a child soon appeared, dashing at full speed towards you.

The boy had delicately combed strands of pink hair, a determined look in his eyes, and a mischievous smile that pulled at his lips. His own eyes widened when he noticed you, digging his heels into the path to stop the momentum from his run. He stared at you, wide-eyed and you returned the look, not sure how to react.

“You’re not a maid!” he asserted, pointing his finger at your attire with an assured look on his face.

His assertion made you chuckle a bit, equal parts amused by his conclusion and taken by his cuteness. His wide eyes shone brightly, and you immediately felt drawn to his carefree aura only a child would possess.

“That is a correct guess,” you said, offering your warmest smile “And who are you, boy?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, resting it on your wrist in interest.

“I am Yuji, my Lady!” He announced proudly, bumping a fist to his chest. You wanted about to giggle again at his attitude, but the sounds another group of footsteps approaching caused you to look up from his small stature to the path from which he had arrived.

“Hey, quick!” he whisper-yelled, coming to wrap his hand around your index and middle fingers “We need to hide, come!” He pulled at them with strength that surprised you enough to almost make stumble as he led you to another section of the garden that resembled a small maze. With vines climbing wooden screens that cast long shadows behind them. You both quickly stood behind them.

“Is this a game of hide and seek?” you asked quietly, and he made a ‘shhhhhhh’ sound, finger placed on his lips and his brows knit in seriousness.

You stifled another chuckle but straightened when you heard the footsteps near, holding the boy closer to your feet as a group you couldn’t see hurriedly passed through the space you had previously been sitting in.

That sounded like quite a few people. You looked at him, lips pressed together in thought.

“Did you do something wrong, little Yuji?” you whispered even quieter when you were sure the group was out of earshot, and the boy fixed you with an offended look

“Firstly, I am not little!” He said, lip upturned “And I didn’t do anything wrong.” he crossed his arms, turning his face away.

Your experience with countless little cousins told you that making him mad would not be a productive way to get the answers you wanted, so you squatted so you reached his height, and held a hand over your chest “I am sorry for my assumption,” you expressed, mustering the most sincere tone you could.

He eyed you suspiciously for a second, but after a huff, a smile returned to his face “Apology accepted!” he said, to which you smiled in return. You wanted to ruffle his pink hair and pinch his pink cheeks, but refrained, not sure of how he would react. He extended his hand at you, seemingly wanting you to grab it.

“You look new around here. Want me to show you around?” He beamed, swaying on his feet in anticipation of your reply.

“Another correct assumption,” You smiled, holding your forefinger to the air “And that would be very kind of you, how could I refuse?” You added, grabbing his hand before standing up to your full height. You could probably find his parents while in the castle with him. Yes, that was the best course of action.

His face beamed at your response, and you could swear you felt a fresh pulse of energy from him radiate through the air “Yay! But one condition!” he urged, holding his palm up to you “No one can see us. Come on!” He pulled you, causing you to almost trip again at the strength this kid displayed, which you were now sure someone his age should not possess.

The boy dragged you to an exit completely different from where you had entered, opening into a separate terrace with a gazebo standing in the middle. Vines climbed up its delicate metal frame that was itself molded in the shapes of blooming flowers. Your mouth hung open at the sight, wondering about the craftsmanship that went into it. Yuji also stopped at your feet for a moment, but you felt him pull at your arm again, causing you to look down and notice a forlorn look in his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly, the other hand itching to caress his hair, but settling on resting it on his shoulder.

He shook his head, and the mischievous determination you had noticed earlier returned to his face “Let’s go to the library!” He announced, “It’s the most interesting place in the palace anyway, and they have books about worms!” he added, pulling you into the adjacent hallway, and eventually through more isolated corridors.

The way he expertly navigated the space, knowing which doors servants would come out of and how to hide made you realize that he was intimately familiar with this castle. “Worms you say? That sounds very interesting!” you said, trying to mirror his excitement “I know right!” he beamed right back, his hold tightening around your fingers

He must be the son of a servant here, you mused while he quietly pulled you along, eyes narrowed in concentration as he led you, as if on a secret mission. He’s too well-dressed to not have rank though, you kept wondering. Regardless of his birth, the boy had shown you more warmth than anyone in this castle, and you were grateful for his presence. You eventually reached a heavy ebony door with thick metal handles, and he used his entire body weight to pull them open, before urging you in.

The room you entered was lined with large windows that extended from roof to floor, flanked by opulent curtains that caused the light to filter in bright streaks. The room smelt of old books, causing you to marvel at all the volumes that endowed the gigantic shelves. Thick spines, some ornate with gold engravings, others plain, but equally precious under your gaze. You were surprised to note the library’s emptiness and turned to look at the boy who had already shut the door and was moving a few paces away. You caught up behind him, following his movements.

“Why is this place so empty?” you inquired, feeling he would know the answer.

“Visitors are not allowed these days,” he responded absently, starting to run towards a specific shelf, and plucking a book out. You reached his location, bending down curiously to see what he was doing. His eyes shone at the thick volume he had pulled out, and he held it towards you proudly. “Worms, Millipedes, and other small critters” was written in cursive across its cover with an illustration of various insects in a circular arrangement.

“This is the best book in the entire library!” he announced.

You smiled again at his attitude, taking in the kid’s enthusiasm. He started opening the book, the pages fluttering as he searched for a specific chapter but paused to look up at you. “Are you going to pick out a book?” He asked, head tilting in thought when he noticed you had not left his side. You were tempted to look around, but shook your head and decided against it for now. You crouched down to his height again and rested your chin on your knees.

“Let’s read that one together”, you pointed to the book he was holding

His eyes shone even brighter, and his face morphed into a wide pink-cheeked smile. “Let’s not waste any time, then! Come on!” He said, taking off towards another corner of the library, and you ran after him.

This kid has way too much energy for his own good. You finally came to a stop when you reached the opposite corner of the library, hand placed on your chest as it heaved with quick breaths. It was furnished with a small coffee table and a silver sofa set by one of the large windows. He sat down closest to the window, and you joined him on the small sofa. The boy then scooted closer, opening the book to the chapter named “Helminths”, with an illustration of an earthworm gracing the first page. Yuji moved the book over to rest on your knee so that both of you could see, and your heart warmed at how comfortable he acted around you.

“Do you want me to read it for us?” you suggested, tilting your head down to look at his face. He looked up, and his brows furrowed a bit before he nodded bashfully. “I can’t say some words yet,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a small pout.

Your resolve to not ruffle his hair finally broke, and you gently tousled his hair at the cute display “Don’t worry, I struggle too, sometimes,” you whispered your confession, causing a smile to return to his face. You softly cleared your throat and started reading from the piece, enunciating the long classifications of worms, from benign to parasitic, noting with a raised brow how he practically thrummed in excitement when you talked about tapeworms feeding from and reproducing in human hosts.

Soon enough, you felt his weight lean against your arm, and you knew that the peaceful atmosphere and the melody of your voice had lulled the boy into sleep. You closed the book, making sure to bookmark the page you ended at, and adjusted him so that his head lay in your lap and his neck wouldn't hurt when he woke up.

I have to find his parents, you thought, running your fingers up and down his arm in soothing motions. He looked so peaceful sleeping, nuzzling softly against you.

The calm moment was interrupted by the sound of the heavy library door being pushed open, and frantic footsteps walking around the library. Your head rose and your brows furrowed at the intrusion. Was this place not supposed to be empty now?

“Yuji! Yuji!” a voice resounded, gravelly and loud, the frequency of the calls betrayed a tinge of worry. Your back straightened instantly, recognizing the voice and your arm paused its gentle touches across the child's arm. Before you could react, the king emerged from behind a shelf, his expression hardening immediately at the sight before him.

“What are you doing with my son?” His low voice came out rough with displeasure and contained anger, and you wanted to burrow into the ground and disappear.

Oh no.

Tag list: @ofcqdesi @tomiokasecretlover

Please comment if you want to be added to the tag list. Thank you again for reading, I would love to know your thoughts on this!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [4]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Oh dear, not beta read, overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being all soft and crying, Blue having nightmares, Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 2252

Only One Step Away

“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed as he presses you against the door. His hands stroke your cheeks softly, almost soothingly if you let yourself sink into the sensation.

You tense ever so slightly despite how hard he’s just made you come. His eyes open as he feels it, giving you a long look from under his thick lashes. 

“I’m not going to bite, Lion. I’d expect you to be the one to do that.” He smiles a wicked grin, but swallows when he senses your uncertainty. “I’m not forcing you, I’m just asking.” He traces the line of your jaw with his fingertips. “I want to shower and sleep… with you next to me.” 

“You’re not worried I’ll strangle you the second you're unconscious?” You tease and the gleam quickly returns to his eyes.

He presses his chest close to yours, “Oh, promises, promises.” He bites his lip. “Don’t distract me with a good time.” 

You chuckle, unable to stop yourself. And to your surprise he beams, the expression lighting up his whole face as the giddy thrill of amusing you races through his veins. 

You lightly touch his cheek, mirroring his caress on your skin. Blue closes his eyes, pressing his head fully into your hand and breathing in deeply. 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

.

You’ve never been in his private rooms, the ones that are sealed behind the locked door in his office. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting, they’re opulently decorated yes, but not as much as his office, not as showy. More focused on comfort than status. There’s a reasonably sized living room with a plush sofa and a large dark wooden bookshelf lining the walls. There’s a book open on the coffee table, bent in half face down. 

The bathroom, all black tile and a fancy white and gold tub that is surely big enough to swim in, is ensuite to the bedroom. 

You know he doesn’t stay in his rooms all the time, he has a home somewhere outside of the club. But you also know he rarely spends time there. 

He kisses you in the shower, running his hands all over you in the soothing warm water, barely talking other than asking if he can wash your skin. 

It’s oldy nice. His gentle touch, the soft look in his eyes. The way he nuzzles against you and holds you close like he is clinging onto you, not pulling you near, not demanding, but pleading. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully naked. The first time you’ve seen his chest and back completely bare. 

Your line of sight lingers on the scars that litter his skin, the series of lines and burn marks across his shoulders. The criss cross of cuts along his ribs. They’re old, well healed but obviously deep. There’s a newer scar on his right side where a bullet went clean through just above his hip, you knew about that one, had heard the stories and gossip from the other dancers. Somehow that one doesn’t seem as stark as the others. 

When Blue notices you looking he smiles, but it’s a small thing. An almost shy twitch of his lips. He stays closer to you after that, trying to keep his body hidden from you without it being bitterly obvious. 

The second he turns off the shower he wraps you in a fluffy towel before he gives you a soft bathrobe to wear and ushers you into the bedroom.  

His bed is lavish, dramatic. But it’s obvious which side he sleeps on, the books and clock, notes and pens and knic knacks all stacked on the right hand side bedside table. Quickly he pulls on a t-shirt and boxers, which makes you smile for a moment. You were sure he would have opulent silk pyjamas hand stitched in gold, a plain white cotton t-shirt seems… off. 

He guides you into bed a little nervously, suddenly drawn in on himself and looking down. 

“Blue?” You stroke his cheek before you sit, looking over his face carefully, scrutinising for any clue of his distress. Part of you screams in your head, yells at you for caring, for worrying. 

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours when you tilt his chin upwards. 

“Are you okay?” 

He nods, but the action isn’t sure of itself. You realise this is probably the first time anyone other than himself has been in here. 

He seems… softer now. Less sharp at the edges with his make-up washed away and short hair damp. You run your thumb over his moustache. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

His breathing hitches, eyes widening at your words. A light flush creeps along his cheeks. “I…” He swallows, “I should be saying that to you, Lion.” 

You lean forward and kiss him lightly, “Well, I said it first.” 

His throat bobs, the glazed, love sick look he gives you is piercing. Somehow cutting you deeper than any expression you have ever seen him show before.

He nods after a moment, trying to push down an emotion you can’t quite place. “Here,” he holds out his hand, waits for you to take it before he climbs into the bed, pulling back the covers for you to join him and encourages you to lie down. 

Blue snuggles next to you the second your back hits the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and shuffling close. He breathes deeply, a little shudder running through his chest. 

“Lion, Lion, Lion.” He mutters, the sound low and soft, more for his own ears than yours. 

You expect it to be difficult, if not impossible to fall asleep. How could it possibly be comfortable with him next to you? How could you not be on edge? 

Instead, you find yourself slipping into dreams the second you close your eyes. 

.

It’s dark when you wake, still early morning. Your shoulder aches ever so slightly from where you’ve been laying oddly. 

At first, you don’t remember where you are and that alone is enough to fill you with the purest panic. But then the sounds of Blue talking in his sleep filter into your groggy mind. 

You sit up slightly, there is just enough light to see him curled up on his side shaking. His words are indistinguishable, nonsense. But he’s crying, his face pinched together and crumbled. 

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t give a flying fuck. 

But you do.

And it hurts.

“Blue,” you say softly, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. His skin is cold, clammy, and for a second you wonder if he’s ill. 

He stays asleep, his eyes closed, still mumbling. 

“Blue.” Your voice is firmer this time, but calm. Safe. And you shake him ever so slightly. 

He jumps as he wakes, freezing as his eyes snap open in panic. 

“You’re okay.” You swallow. “You’re-”

“Lion?” His voice is crocky, weak. 

You nod and he grabs hold of your hand on his shoulder, turning around and shifting closer to you. 

“I…” There are tears on his cheeks, still budding in his eyes. 

You move closer to him, wiping at the wetness on his face and whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, you’re alright. We’re safe here.”

He nuzzles closer, wrapping his arms around you desperately and squeezing. His grip is strong despite how his hands tremble. 

Blue shakes his head, pulling you closer and grabbing at your right hand. 

You frown, unsure of what he’s doing at first, but then he spreads your fingers and presses your palm to his throat. 

“Please.” He whispers, hardly above silence. 

Your hand flexes automatically, and he whimpers swallowing hard and pressing his head back against the pillow.

“Thank you.” He closes his eyes, lighty stroking your bicep and trailing his other hand to your hip. 

He gasps, his eyelids fluttering as you squeeze. His heartbeat echoes in his neck, but to your surprise you can feel it slowing, calming as you increase your grip. 

His lips part as he lets out a shuddered breath. His muscles tense and squirm as he lets the sensation of your hand on him overtake his mind. 

You can’t help yourself, unable to resist the urge to lean forward and trace your thumb of your free hand over his bottom lip. 

He gasps, his eyes opening as he darts the tip of his tongue out and flicks in against your fingertip. 

The way your breathing hitches surprises you, you can see the adoration shining in Blue’s eyes in the dark. 

Heat pools in your stomach, twisting around your muscles. It shouldn’t be so enticing, him looking like that. So soft and pliant and laid out for you like a feast. Your wetness rubs against your inner thighs as your body practically begs to take him and break him into whatever shape you wish.

“Ride me.” He mutters, almost looking embarrassed to be asking. “Just…” He takes your hand on his face and guides it down to his heavy cock, hard and ready. “Use me to get off, please.” He swallows, his voice timid. “Keep squeezing my neck and I’ll be quiet and still for you.” 

He gives you a nervous glance from under his eyelashes, the uncertainty of his gaze cracks into your ribs and weakens any resolve you could possibly hope to have. 

You nod, keeping your right hand around his throat as you pull up his shirt slightly and tug his boxers down to his thighs. You stroke him once, slow. More for your own amusement than his. He stays quiet as you run your fingers over his velvet soft skin, but his muscles tense and twitch under the strain. 

Blue swallows as you climb on top of him, his throat bobbing under your grip. He closes his eyes when you line up with his length and sink down, his back arches for a second before he regains control and pushes him back back flat to the bed, his hands at his sides. 

As you swallow more of his cock you gasp, rocking your hips to ease the stretch and help the glide. It’s like you can feel him in your chest, pushing your lungs and trying to pierce your heart. 

He pulses with the beat of his heart, spearing you open and making your clit throb with the deep stretch. 

You moan softly, hardly able to move, to do anything other than take more and more of him as your knees slip wider and he sinks deeper. 

He whines, gasping as you finally sheath him inside, his balls pressing against your ass. 

You rock slowly, trying to adjust to him and squeezing his throat rhythmically. 

Blue tries to stay as quiet as possible, his breathing turning into quiet pants when you finally find the right rhythm. 

His thighs quiver as you ride him, rolling your hips so that his tip strokes devastatingly inside. You gasp, biting your lip. You don’t want it to be good, you don’t want it to feel so right. Him balls deep and you soaking his cock and chasing your pleasure like you are possessed. 

“Blue,” you groan, your fingers digging into his neck.

He looks at you instantly, focusing on you. The look on his face is palpable, the strain of holding back. 

“Blue,” you mutter again, your voice raising in pitch and he gasps. 

You lean forward, changing the angle so you can grind and roll and- you sob as he brushes so perfectly inside. The sensation burning and cracking up your spine like electricity. The cry that leaves your throat has him tensing, shaking from the effort to hold himself back. 

Fresh tears fill his eyes from the strain, the long drawn out edge of being so close. His toes curl as you moan, taking your pleasure completely from him. 

You squeeze his neck harder, biting at his bottom lip possessively. “Come with me.” You growl, your mind burning hot and too far gone to think of anything else. 

He shakes his head with a sob, “I want you to feel good-”

“Are you questioning me?” You snarl, nipping at his jaw and he whines, gasps. His body follows your order without a second thought as he shakes. His hips snap upwards once, his soft, sweet, desperate cries tipping you over the edge. 

You come hard, all thoughts dissolving and focusing only on him as your orgasm rolls over you. 

Your hips move on their own as your keep coming, the pleasure pushes further and further as he pumps hot, thick cum deep inside you. 

You breathe hard as you come back down, aftershocks twisting along your muscles. There are fresh tears on Blue’s cheeks, and even in the poor light you can see the bruising on his neck. 

“Oh,” you touch his skin softly, your stomach dropping, suddenly horrified. 

He looks up at you in a panic, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come,” he flinches, “please, don’t-”

You kiss him deeply, stroking his sweaty skin before you pull his t-shirt off completely. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m sorry, I’ve…” you stroke his neck, “it looks…”

“Feels good.” He says softly, pilant and small. “I don’t want you to be sorry either.” 

You nod. 

He presses his forehead to yours, whimpering when you stroke his hair and kiss his nose, closing his eyes as he tangles himself up in your embrace. 

This isn’t right. This shouldn’t feel so comfortable. 

Thank you for reading!

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[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 7.9K

Notes: Hey look it's part two! This is the end of the fic!

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; mention of Reader's mother passing away, though it doesn't say how; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; possessive Tommy; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, unsafe sex

Summary: Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“You look impressed.” You noted it to him with pride. Thomas’ gaze swept around the hotel room as he pressed a tip into the bellboy’s hand. The young man dipped a courteous nod before hurrying out, shutting the suite door behind himself.

“You chose well,” Tommy conceded. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away to hide your proud smile. When Tommy had asked you to make arrangements for your trip, you’d been certain it was a test. It seemed like you’d passed, at least. The interior was opulent, with rich shades of red and tawny across the furnishings.

“There’s a balcony,” You nodded him toward it as you headed for the doors. You opened them, stepping out and peering over the hotel’s small courtyard. You heard Thomas come up behind you, felt his hand rest on your lower back as he set the other on the banister.

“It’ll be nice to be able to get some air without all of the street noise,” You added. Why were you so chatty now? It was hardly the first time you’d been alone with him.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy had trusted you with this in the first place. Maybe it was how close he’d stuck to you on the car ride down, urging you to sit closer so that he could hear you properly over the rumbling of the road beneath his tires. Maybe it was the fact that, unless something else prevailed, you were going to share a bed with your husband for the first time that evening.

You glanced back toward Tommy and found him eyeing the courtyard below. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder and nodding inside.

“Do you like it?”

He turned to you, a small, patient smile on his lips.

“Yes,” He reassured, his thumb sweeping gently over your lower back. “I like it.”

You nodded, relieved, and turned back to the courtroom.

“What time is your meeting?”

“Six o’clock.”

“What time do you want me ready to go?”

“Five thirty should work well enough.”

You reached out, fishing into Tommy’s jacket for his timepiece. You ignored his heavy, curious look as you eyed the face. You had a couple of hours between now and then.

“Alright,” You shrugged, tucking the watch back where it belonged before you turned, heading into the room. It was another moment before Tommy followed you back inside.

“What’ll you wear?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where we’re going and who we’re meeting.” You crouched by your suitcase, casting Thomas a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t told me.”

He hummed, drifting closer and leaning against the bed frame.

“We're meeting Jay Miller.”

You frowned. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. He waited patiently as you wracked your mind. Jay Miller. Jay Miller…

Your mind flashed with a face that you used to know well—a warm smile, a lopsided grin, the flutter of dark lashes as you took him between your lips—

You turned away from Thomas, your face going hot.

“I didn’t know that you knew Jacob,” You said crisply.

“It’s a young acquaintance. Lewis made introductions.”

And you would have to thank your brother for that—perhaps with a smack upside of his head. What the devil was he thinking, introducing your husband to your former beau?

“How fortuitous.” You straightened from your suitcase, looking down at its contents. Jay Miller. Lord above. You hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he wouldn’t remember you? Maybe he wouldn’t dare say a thing in front of Tommy. Maybe Tommy didn’t even know—

“That one.”

Your mind quieted as Tommy stepped up beside you, pointing into the suitcase. Your brow furrowed as you followed his direction, crouching down to pluck up a purple beaded dress.

“Why this one?” You asked, turning the fabric over in your hands.

“I’ve never seen you in it.”

“You haven’t seen me in most of the things I’ve packed,” You pointed out. Tommy hummed, pressing tightly up against your back, making your stomach turn somersaults.

“Then this’ll be a good place to start,” He insisted.

“And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“We're having dinner at the Granville Hotel."

You drew in a shaky breath as he stepped away again, reahing into his pocket for his cigarette case as he headed back toward the balcony. You'd wear your purple dress to the Granville Hotel. Fine. You looked down at the dress, smoothing the crepe satin with your fingers. You’d known that you would need to prepare yourself physically, but preparing yourself mentally was now an entirely different matter.

-- 

It was a boon that Jacob seemed as shocked to see you as you had been when Tommy had mentioned his name to you. For as long as it had been, Jacob seemed almost wholly unchanged. He stood from the restaurant table, straightening his jacket as you and Tommy grew closer.

Jacob’s dark hair was neatly coiffed; his warm, dark eyes lingered heavily on you as you approached him on Tommy’s arm. He was taller than Tommy, nearly 6’4, with broad shoulders, and biceps that bulged in such a way that they seemed to challenge the seams of his suit. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, shaking his hand warmly.

“Mr. Miller,” They shook hands before Tommy gestured toward you, “I believe you know my wife.”

“I do,” Jacob nodded, “But I’m ashamed to say that I have not had the pleasure for quite some time.” He took hold of your extended hand, and while you’d expected a shake, he bowed over it, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. You fought to hold your expression steady as he leaned back, murmuring, “Mrs. Shelby.”

Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“Mr. Miller,” You answered softly. “It is nice to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Shall we sit?” Tommy asked.

“Please.” Jacob waved his hands to the seat on the other side of the table from him. Tommy pulled your chair out for you, nodding as you murmured your thanks. He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, and you couldn’t help but glance back with a small smile on your lips. You didn’t even care if it was for show. The outward affection that Tommy had given you in the last few weeks felt so nice. It had been so long since you’d felt anything like that, not since—Well. Not since Jacob, at least.

You let your eyes stray to the other side of the table where Jacob seemed to be perusing the wine menu. It was a relief. You weren’t sure what business the two were engaged in, and finding out right off the bat would have been a bit much for you to handle. You knew well enough now that Thomas liked to ease into his business rather than state it outright.

--

Dinner was delicious. Course upon course upon course of perfectly prepared, filling food, chased by sips of the best bottles of wine that the restaurant had to offer you. Jacob and Thomas spent the entire meal exchanging pleasantries, talking around business…Until you reached the wasteland between dessert and the bill.

“...Now,” Jay started, folding his arms on the table. “We ought to come to our reason for meeting.”

“In front of the lady?”

“She can handle it.”

Where there had been a tease in Tommy’s voice, there was a thread of annoyance in Jay’s, insistent and firm. You weren’t sure who you were more grateful for at that moment. Jay knew you in your place in your family’s structure; Tommy was still learning you, in a way. He shifted in his seat a touch beside you, curling his arm around the back of your seat.

“I know she can,” Tommy insisted. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s simply not polite.”

Polite. You were almost certain that that word had never once applied to Tommy Shelby. Jay gave Tommy a tight smile, giving a small nod.

“Well then,” He replied, tone clipped. “Let’s get to it. We have sixteen distribution centers, but we’d only be able to lend five to you and your operations.”

You glanced toward Tommy, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He nodded slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table.

“When we last spoke,” He spoke matter-of-factly, his tone tipped with venom, “You told me that ten centers would be available.”

“Yes, well.” Jay’s gaze flitted toward you lightning-quick, then away again. “That was blue sky thinking on my part. The fact of the matter is, we have five. Take them or leave them.”

“I’ll leave them.”

Your gaze flitted over to Tommy, stunned. He’d leave the option of five, rather than pursue them and find five elsewhere?

“You’re kidding,” Jay scoffed before he nudged you beneath the table with his foot. “Talk some sense into your husband.”

You considered for a moment, taking in Tommy properly. It was stalwart—almost flat—but he quirked a brow. You took in his expression, his countenance…And you knew. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough for him. You shook your head a little, your gaze fixed on Tommy as you agreed:

“It’s ten or nothing, Jay,” You warned.

“Please,” Jay laughed. “You can’t have bought into his shit so quickly.”

Tommy’s expression flickered as he turned to meet Jay’s eye again, his eyes narrowing.

“You doubt my wife’s sense?” Tommy frowned, his voice daring Jay to disagree.

“Thomas,” You warned softly, but it was drowned out by Jay’s, “I’m questioning whether your wife still has a mind of her own.”

Tommy stood so quickly that it made you jolt, stunned at the sudden move. Jay followed suit, the glasses on the table rattling as his thighs hit the table on the way up. You reached out, hurriedly steadying the table as the motions drew the attention of the other diners. You looked up, gaze darting between the two of them.

“You question my wife’s intellect. That is a dangerous path to walk.”

“I knew her long before you, Shelby, and better, if I do say so.”

“Is that right.”

“Thomas,” You hissed, “Don’t.”

Your dread grew as Tommy’s gaze held steadfast and heavily on Jay’s.

“Tommy,” You reached up, catching hold of his hand and squeezing it, “Please. Not here.”

It was another long, harrowing moment before Tommy lowered himself to sit beside you again, his arm curling around the back of your chair. You watched him, your heart pounding as Jay reluctantly lowered himself to sit, casting an apologetic smile toward the maître d.

“So,” Tommy drawled, “If five is all you’ve to offer, we may as well conclude our business now.”

“I suppose we should,” Jay agreed, his gaze drifting toward you. Your eyes dropped to Tommy’s shoulder, holding steadily there, rather than look at Jay.

“I’ll take care of the check,” Jay offered.

“There’s no need,” Tommy insisted, drawing out his money clip and slapping a stack of bills on the table. “It’s on us.”

--

Your entire body was hot as you stormed into your hotel room, already reaching up to remove your earrings as you crossed the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” You spat, glancing back toward him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You bit your inner cheek, holding in a hysterical laugh. That was bullshit. You tossed the earrings onto the vanity, ignoring one that pinged off of the mirror and onto the floor. You reached back, struggling to tug your dress off. You huffed in irritation, simply holding your arms up. It was a moment before Tommy strolled over, drawing the dress off of your body. You turned away from you before he could get a proper look, snatching the dress, your pajamas, and robe before hurrying behind the room divider to change.

You drew off your slip and your stockings hurriedly, listening to Tommy mill around on the other side. You tugged on your pajamas and robe, tying the tie tightly before rounding the divider, your pretty purple dress balled up to shove into your suitcase.

“I did not appreciate that,” You announced primly, crouching beside the case for your toiletries. 

“Appreciate what, precisely?”

“Being used as a bargaining chip.”

You straightened, settling at the vanity and taking up your cold cream to take your makeup off.

“...That’s not why I brought you.”

“Bullshit.” You met his eye in the mirror, uncaring of the fact that you likely looked ridiculous, smearing cream all over your face. “You wanted a position from the higher ground, and bringing me, you got it.”

You sprung up, striding over to the restroom and taking up a washcloth. You twisted on the tap, running it under the water and raising it to clean away the cold cream. You looked into the mirror, swiping away the remaining smudges of kohl beneath your eyes. You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to staunch your irritation. It felt good, but it just wasn’t enough.

You could hear the twisting of a bottle top, chased by the almost melodic sound of whiskey being poured into a glass. You straightened up, pitching the used washcloth into the basin of the sink and winding into the room. You plucked the glass of whiskey out of Tommy’s hands moments before he could take a sip, stomping over to the balcony and yanking the door open. You drew in a deep gulp as you leaned against the balcony, peering into the courtyard. The small winding path around it was lit with small lanterns, swaying in the evening breeze. You heard Tommy’s footsteps approaching after a few moments, but refused to look in his direction.

“What if you’re right?” He asked after a few moments.

“Then I’d say that you’d accomplished your mission.”

“Thank you for following my lead.”

“You should’ve taken the five.”

“Excuse me?”

“Better to have five to start with and look for five,” You argued, glancing up at him. “You could’ve negotiated a lower fee with Jay and an equal fee elsewhere.”

“You think my choice is foolish.”

“I think it’s short-sighted.”

Tommy’s brows rose and fell swiftly.

“You’re certainly entitled to that opinion.”

The telephone rang on the side table just inside the bedroom, and Tommy stepped away with a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As he went back inside. You turned to watch him, leaning against the balcony and watching him. He plucked the phone up, tucking it against his ear and answering, “Yes…Ah, Jay,” His gaze darted to yours. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening…Mm…Mhm…I see…”

Your brows rose, stomach roiling with nerves as you listened.

“Yes…Yes, ten centers will still do just fine,” Tommy insisted. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Dickhead.

“Of course… I understand…Thank you…Lovely doing business with you as well.”

You rested your chin on your hand as you heard Tommy lower the receiver back into the cradle. A moment later, he joined you on the balcony. You listened as he drew out a cigarette, tucked it between his lips, and lit a match. You caught the acrid scent of his cigarette just a few moments later.

“...Go on,” You finally sighed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Gloat. Get it over with.”

“I think I’ll wait.”

--

“Tell me about him.”

Getting into bed with Thomas had been nerve-wracking. You’d been certain that he’d stay up and go out, but as you’d shut the light off and gotten under the covers, he’d joined you. There was a good amount of space between the two of you. You’d been staring at the ceiling, praying that sleep would come quickly, but you’d laid in silence until he’d asked that shocking question.

“What?” You frowned, letting your head loll to the side to look at him.

“Jacob Miller.”

You could feel him watching you in the room’s low light. You rolled onto your side to face him, tucking your hands under your head.

“I’m sure you did your research before doing business with him.”

“I did, but everything that I know is strictly professional. How did you meet him?”

You sighed softly, casting your mind back.

“It was at a party.”

“You brother’s?”

“No, he was still too young then. One of my Aunt Pearl’s friends threw it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“How old was he?”

“Mm…Twenty I guess.”

“You liked him.”

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“He was just…I don’t know,” You shook your head. “He was too showy, flashy. Loud. But, he was already drunk by the time I got there. He’s far more calm when he doesn’t have a few in him.”

“Did you want to marry him?”

You considered for a moment, your thumb sweeping along the band of your wedding ring.

“I used to, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“...It didn’t feel right.”

“And our marriage did?”

Did. The word hit you low in the belly. Did? Not does? What made Tommy think that your stance on the marriage had changed already? Was it your irritation at his tactics earlier that evening? You were certainly justified in that upset, and you wouldn’t let him talk you down from that, at least.

“...It’s different,” You insisted. “Jacob and I were simply attracted to one another. No strings. You and I married for the sakes of our families.”

“Do you regret it?”

You were quiet for a moment, taking in Tommy’s features.

“...No,” You shook your head. “We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?”

Tommy nodded slowly, his foot gently brushing yours beneath the sheets.

“That we did.”

You nodded, relief melting over you.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hedged. It took a moment before Tommy admitted, “Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“There was a girl. Greta. We were young, and…She got very sick.”

“Only her?”

“...Another, named Grace. She worked at the Garrison.”

“Why her?”

“I thought we were cut from the same cloth.”

“...And now?”

Pain flashed across Tommy’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Now I know better.”

-- 

It was strange to wake up with someone else. You opened your eyes slowly, focusing on the rise-and-fall of your belly with the weight of Tommy’s arm atop it, the heat of his body pressed into your side. You tipped your head to look at him, taking him in properly in the early morning light. You raised your hand, gently smoothing back his sleep-mussed hair.

The night had yielded far more than you’d expected. You hadn’t expected Tommy to tell you about his first love, and you hadn’t expected him to ask about yours. You hoped that it would bring you closer, but with Tommy, you could never tell. Maybe it was leverage…But if it was, why would he have told you about Greta, or Grace? You peered up at the ceiling, noting to yourself that you ought to ask Peggy more about them when you got back to Birmingham.

You glanced toward Tommy as you felt him sigh, nuzzling your shoulder sleepily.

“...Morning,” You murmured. He hummed softly, turning his head from the window.

“I want coffee.” “I’ll order room service.”

You rolled over, reaching for the phone. You sucked in a breath as Tommy’s arms curled around your middle, his body pressing up against your back. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to dial the front desk.

“...Hello?...Two coffees…” You requested, “And, um…” You drew the receiver away. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Toast for now.”

“And two orders of toast…Room 402…Thank you.” You hung up, settling back down in bed. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Should be ten for what we’re paying to stay here, ” Tommy sighed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Fine…You?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Tommy rolled away, stretching and yawning widely before he sat up. You stayed in bed, trying to remember the warmth of Tommy cuddling so close, certain that you wouldn’t feel it again any time soon. You’d forgotten how nice it was to be held. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the expanse of his pale back before you finally pushed yourself to sit up, lowering your gaze to the sheets as Tommy turned back toward you.

“...You alright?” He asked after a moment. You swallowed thickly, forcing a placid expression as you met his gaze again.

“Of course.”

For a moment, you thought that he may push back for an answer, but he let it go, nodding as he fished into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

-- 

The news that the Blakes would be visiting Birmingham had reached Pearl first. She had mentioned it to Polly, who had told Tommy while Lewis was in earshot. Lewis had written and sent you a note, and you’d had the facts of it by noon.

By the time Tommy returned for the evening, you were completely occupied with the arrangements. He found you in the kitchen with notebooks and your planner spread out over the table.

“I see you’ve heard,” He commented.

“I have.”

“Is there dinner?”

“There's soup and bread in the oven.”

Tommy grunted, walking more deeply into the kitchen. You hardly registered the feeling of him resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“...How was work?” You asked after a few moments.

“Fine.” You heard the oven door open, then close again. You tutted as he nudged some of your work aside, setting his plate down before he sat beside you. You could see Tommy rolling his sleeves up out of the corner of your eye, but you simply drew another notebook nearer to yourself, eyeing an itemized grocery list.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“Totaling the estimated costs. I want everything to be prepared before they arrive.”

“Mm…Have you eaten?”

You turned the page of your mother's old notebook, brow furrowing. Was it apple cake or apple pie that the Blakes preferred? Or apple strudel? You knew that there was apple involved—

You jolted as the notebook was yanked out from beneath your hands, tossed to the other side of the table, out of reach. You whirled around, eyes wide.

“Tommy!”

He pushed the plate toward you, turning it in your direction so that the stew was closer to you than it was to him. “Eat.”

“And what’s to stop me from just taking up the notebook up again?”

“I am.” Tommy snapped his fingers, pointing at the plate. “Eat.”

You huffed softly, taking up a piece of bread and reluctantly dipping it into the stew.

“...I made this for you,” You grumbled.

“What was it that the minister said when we were married? About the two being as one? Means we share.”

“How technical,” You grumbled through your mouthful. You glanced up as Tommy nudged a glass of wine closer to you. You took the glass up, taking a deep pull before passing it back. Lord above, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. It hit you all at once, your stomach grumbling as you swallowed. You didn’t dare look at Tommy, nervous that he’d heard it.

“How long have you been at this?” He asked, waggling a finger toward the mess on the table.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Mm. An awful lot of uproar for the Blakes.”

You cast him a sidelong glance, brow raised. “The Blakes are one of the oldest families in our acquaintance. I haven’t seen them since I was a child, since—” Since before your mother had passed. You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze to the plate. “Anyway. I was just going over my mother’s old party notes. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Beyond offending them and losing our connections? Gee, Thomas, I can’t think of a thing,” You quipped dryly. He seemed to smile unwittingly.

“Less chatting, more chewing,” He counseled, nudging the bowl closer again.

-- 

“I trust you have everything in hand.”

Pearl’s tone indicated that she did not trust that you did, in fact, have everything in hand. Despite her prickly barb and lack of faith, you’d managed everything quite well. The Blakes would be staying in your guest room, which had been fully kitted out when you’d remodeled the house. You’d ordered in a chef and a sous chef for the next few days, giving you the freedom to deal with the house, and you’d hired on a maid permanently. Ethel was a quick, eager, high-spirited woman, who had practically been your shadow for the last few days.

You cast Pearl a sidelong glance, jaw clenched as she lazily swept her eyes across the neat sitting room. You could just make out the sound of the cook and his sous chef bustling about in the kitchen, Ethel in the living room, setting the table.

“Yes, I have,” You nodded. “And thank you for all of your help this week.”

Pearl snorted at your contemptuous tone, tapping the ashes from her cigarette into a tray on the sideboard.

“You’re the lady of the house. You have to learn how to manage these things for yourself sometime. It may as well be now.”

You sighed, turning to the house and straightening the cushions for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

“Did you see them when they went into the office?” You asked, glancing back toward Polly.

“Mm, briefly. Beulah looked like hell. Poor woman never did have the stomach for the crossing. They booked too late, couldn’t get a cabin close enough to the middle. She must've spent the last five full days chucking her guts up.”

“Pearl,” You scowled, disgusted.

“I”m simply saying, don’t be too offended if she doesn’t eat too much at dinner tonight.”

“Mm. How about the old man?”

“Oh, you know Chester. Strong as an ox. He’ll outlive us all.” Pearl was quiet for a moment before she added, “They brought Hugh.”

The news hit you like a freight train. You groaned loudly, giving your foot one petulant stomp before striding over to the door to the dining room. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself before you opened the door.

“Ethel.”

“Ma’am?”

“We’ll be ten for dinner tonight—Unless,” You glared over toward Polly, “You have any more surprises.”

“Not a one. You’re a dear, Ethel,” Pearl gave her a bright smile. You turned your own tight smile toward Ethel, nodding, “Ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s better this way,” Pearl insisted as you let the door swing closed. “You were saying that you hated a lopsided table. Hugh evens out numbers.”

“How kind of him,” You grumbled. “How old is he now?”

“Thirty.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Mm.”

“...Attractive.”

You arched a brow at Pearl’s comment. She watched you for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the smoldering end of her cigarette.

“Is your husband still seeing that woman?” She asked. The mention of Lizzie made your gut pang with bitterness, but you forced your face into an uninterested mask as you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” You admitted.

“Does he bring her around?”

“No, but he may go to her. However he handles that business, he doesn’t—...It isn’t in the house, at least.”

“Have you considered asking him?”

“I don’t care what he does.”

“It’s up to you to know. Especially for the course of this visit.”

You sighed softly. “Thomas will do what’s best for the business. He won’t jeopardize it for a roll in the hay.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, aunt. If there is one thing that he cares for in this world, it’s that.”

-- 

Pearl’s assessments of your visitors had been correct—you could see that the second they walked through the door.

With a full head of greyed hair and a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, standing at 6’2, Chester Blake had the same larger-than-life air that he’d possessed when you were young. He was a little thicker around the middle than he had been the last time you’d seen him, but the sands of time didn’t exactly flow north. He was aging, but he wore it well. Beulah, on the other hand, looked as if she’d spent the entire crossing on the cargo hold of the ship. Her hair and clothing were neatly styled, but her typically pinked fair skin looked sallow, and her expression was drawn. Her bright grey eyes were dull, and her smile seemed just a little wobbly as she took you in.

“My word,” She managed, “How much you’ve grown.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” You smiled as you embraced her, “Either of you.”

“A lie, and one that your mother would’ve abhorred, rest her soul,” Chester patted your shoulder, “But I’m happy to hear it myself.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I think that my mother would’ve scolded me if I hadn’t said as such.”

Tommy skirted around Beulah, resting a hand on your hip and leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. You smiled, despite the fact that the show of affection was likely a show for your guests.

“We mustn’t all crowd in the doorway,” You insisted as Tommy helped Beulah out of her coat, passing it off to Ethel, “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Have you got whiskey?” Chester asked as they followed you into the sitting room.

“Man after my own heart,” Tommy commented, walking over to the sideboard.

“And you, Beulah? Some tea, perhaps?” You suggested softly. She took your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“Ginger?”

“You’re an angel.”

“Ethel,” You turned to your maid as she headed for the kitchen, “A ginger tea for Mrs. Blake, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

You guided Beulah to a seat before joining Tommy at the sideboard.

“Would you like one?” He murmured.

“Thank you, no. I think it’d be best if I kept my head for the evening. There’ll be wine with dinner, besides.”

“Mm.”

You glanced toward Beulah where she had closed her eyes, then looked toward Chester, where he was eyeing the tintype photographs of your parents, and of Lewis when he was young.

“...Where are the boys?” You asked after a moment.

“With Polly and Pearl, showing Hugh a good time at the Garrison.”

You groaned quietly in annoyance. That was just what you needed—the lot of them spilling in to dinner, absolutely smashed.

“They’ll be on their best behavior,” Tommy added before you could complain further.

“You’re certain?”

“They gave me their word.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you gave a short nod, murmuring, “Alright.” You could feel Tommy eyeing you for a moment before you felt his hand slide across your waist. You raised your eyes to his as he shifted just a little closer, his hip pressing to yours.

“The contract was signed this morning—everything from here on out is just pleasantries. Relax.”

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before you sighed, lowering your eyes to collar. You closed your eyes as Tommy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You patted his hand softly before he drew away, taking up one of the glasses and turning back to your guests.

“Here you are, Chester.”

You glanced toward Beulah, grimacing as you saw her raise her hand to her mouth, resting it there, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d be ill or not. You walked over to her, forgoing propriety as you crouched beside her.

“The tea should be ready in a moment. Would you like to go and lie down for a few minutes before dinner?”

She gave you a small, grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright, dear,” She insisted, patting your hand. “But could I ask you to get the tin of mints from my coat? They’re in the left pocket.”

“Of course.”

You straightened, heading for the coat closet. You’d only just retrieved the tin when the front door was flung open. You heard the clamoring of voices just a moment later, and you watched as Polly, Pearl, Lewis, Arthur, John, and an unfamiliar man piled in. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to help the slight, disapproving raise of your brow. Pearl caught sight of you first, and she cackled, pinching your cheek.

“Give up the sourpuss, pet, it’s only us.”

“I can see that, thank you.”

Ethel zipped into the hall, rushing to collect the coats as quickly as they were being shrugged off. You gave Lewis, Arthur, and John a peck on the cheek as they passed you, heading into the sitting room.

“I don’t get one?”

The man’s voice gave you pause, and you turned to get a better look at him.

Hugh Chester Blake had been a menace of a child when you were growing up—stealing your books, dipping the ends of your hair in ink, shoving you down into the dirt as he passed. Your gaze swept him speculatively. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s thick, dark head of hair. You had remembered a lanky little twit, but he’d grown to be quite tall and quite broad.

“Hello, Hugh,” You greeted.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, is it.” He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to step back, swallowing thickly as he crowded into your space. Christ, where had Polly and Pearl gone? Play nice, just play nice. Pleasantries, you thought. Thomas had done the hard work, you couldn’t undo it by insulting the man—

“About time, Hugh,” You heard.

You could’ve cried with relief as Tommy joined you, curling a territorial arm around your waist.

“Mrs. Blake is looking for those mints, darling,” Tommy added. Darling, that was new—Your mind stalled at the endearment before you squeaked, “Oh, goodness! Excuse me.”

You hurried away from the crowded doorway, just catching on Tommy saying, “You boys took your sweet time.”

You crouched beside Mrs. Blake’s seat again, murmuring your apologies as you passed the tin over.

“It’s quite alright,” She insisted, “I know all about the hosting game—your attention is torn ten different directions.”

You smiled gratefully, giving her hand a squeeze as you straightened, glancing around. Everyone had drinks in hand…And Tommy and Hugh were still in the doorway. You frowned, recognizing the tight, irritated set of Tommy’s jaw. What could they possibly be discussing—?

“Dinner is nearly ready, Mrs. Shelby.” Ethel’s news snapped you out of your contemplation, and you nodded, smiling at her.

“I’ll start herding the cats, then. Thank you, Ethel.”

--

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Every dish had been prepared perfectly—and the chef had been quick to heat broth for Beulah when she’d been wary of not being able to keep any of the rich meal down. You could feel yourself beginning to truly relax as you watched Pearl and Polly dance with John and Lewis. The sound of the record player, their chatter and laughter began to brighten up the typically drab, quiet calm of the sitting room.

“Room on your card for me?”

Hugh’s question made you clam up again, and your eyes darted to his palm. Pleasantries. You could manage one dance, couldn’t you? You gave him a small smile, resting your hand in his. You knew the moment that you did that it was a mistake. He tugged you far too harshly toward the others, causing you to nearly trip over your own feet. He rested his hand on your lower back, fingers splaying wide, nearly dipping lower than what was appropriate. Your hear ticked up in your chest as you took in the ruddiness in his cheeks.

Hugh was drunk.

You didn’t know how much he’d had at the Garrison, but he’d been pounding the wine back at dinner, nearly drinking an entire bottle alone, and hardly touching his food. Now, he jerkily steered you around the crowded space, his grasp on your hand so tight it was nearly painful. Where was Beulah? Maybe you could excuse yourself to check in on her—

“I’m cutting in.”  

Your eyes darted gratefully to Tommy as he grasped Hugh’s jacket, forcing the man to stop.

“What?” Hugh asked, face reddening in irritation.

“I said,” Tommy stepped closer, “I’m cutting in. I want to dance with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. It was tactful, almost genius. It put the ball in Hugh’s court. The polite thing to do would be to acquiesce; if he didn’t, the phrasing and his refusal to let go would seem absolutely ridiculous. You felt Hugh glance between you and Tommy before he reluctantly passed you into Tommy’s hands.

“Thank you for the dance,” You added over your shoulder before Tommy steered you to the other side of the dance floor. You sighed softly, resting your forehead against Tommy’s shoulder. “Your timing was superb.”

Tommy hummed knowingly, swaying you slowly as Arthur switched the record over.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sweeping his thumb over the side of your hand.

“I am now,” You murmured, lifting your head to look at Tommy. He nodded, gaze sweeping your face. His nose brushed gently against yours, his eyes flitting to your lips, and lingering. You swiped your tongue along your lower lip, stomach fluttering as Tommy pressed his lips to yours. You felt the swaying slow, then stop as Tommy’s arm curled around your waist, drawing you into his chest. You gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, resting on his nape. You had barely kissed him on your wedding day. This was sweet in a way that you’d never known from Tommy—a way that you wanted to become more familiar with.

The hoots and whoops from Lewis, Arthur, and John snapped you from the tender embrace, and you turned your head from Tommy, embarrassedly pressing your face into his neck.

“Alright, pipe down,” Tommy grumbled. When you managed to draw yourself from your nervous hiding place, you found Polly and Pearl sharing a smile.

--

“…What are you doing in here?”

The question flew out of your mouth, coated in your surprise, and you could see the swell of Tommy’s amusement as he closed your bedroom door behind himself.

“Hugh is in my room,” He informed you. Oh—Lord above. You nodded a little. Of course. How hadn’t you thought of that?

“I see,” You muttered. Tommy hummed, pushing off from the door and walking deeper inside. You watched him take in the furnishings, his gaze sweeping the armchair and bookshelf, the small reading table, the nightstand…And the bed. You raised your hand, scrubbing at the back of your neck.

It was going to be alright, you told yourself. You’d slept with Tommy—you’d been asleep with Tommy—before, just a few weeks ago. That had been a comfortable enough experience, so…So this would be more than alright. You were certain of it.

“I’ll just,” You gestured toward the divider in the corner of the room, “I’ll go change.” You skirted around it before Tommy could argue, or offer to be the one to change behind it. You plucked up your pajamas and stepped behind the divider, scrubbing your hands over your heated face once you were out of his line of vision. How did this man still make you so nervous?

“...It was a lovely evening.” Tommy’s insistence floated over the divider to you, prompting you to snap into action.

“Yes, it was,” You answered, words slightly muffled as you drew your dress up and over your head. You hung it over the silk folding screen, reaching for the fastenings on your brassiere and corset. “I’ll have to give the cook an excellent recommendation. Dinner was superb.”

“Yes.”

You drew off your thigh-highs, hanging them on the screen by your dress. You pulled on your nightdress, smoothing your hands over the cool, sky-blue fabric before putting on the matching robe.

“…May I come out?” You asked, damning your nerves.

“Of course.”

You stepped around the screen, surprised to find Tommy in bed already. He had the manuscript that had been on your bedside table in hand.

“You’re making progress,” He commented, flipping through a few pages, skimming a few of your corrections and notes.

“I was. Things got a little…Held up with the Blake’s visit,” You admitted. You’d hardly touched the manuscript in the last couple of weeks. You walked over to the basin, trying to ignore the feeling of Tommy’s gaze following you.

“…Is that new?” He asked.

“Hm?” You looked at them, finding his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. The interest in his gaze warmed you, and you hurriedly looked away again as his eyes swept upward. “Oh, the—This? No.”

“Had it long?”

“A few months.” It was another outfit that you’d gotten for your honeymoon months ago—one that Tommy would never had had a reason to see before.

“Will you be reading before bed?” Tommy asked.

“I think not. It’s been a long day.”

The stress was beginning to drain from your system, making you feel the full weight of your fatigue. You were almost certain that you’d fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You washed your face quickly, listening to Tommy turn the pages of the manuscript every few moments. When you finished, you dried your hands and turned back to the bed.

“Would you like to leave that light on?” You asked, nodding toward the lamp on the bedside table as you shrugged your robe off, hanging it up on the bed post.

“I can do without it, unless you’d like it on.”

“No! I’m alright,” You chirped as you climbed into bed, tugging the covers up. Tommy set the manuscript aside, shutting the light off before he settled down in bed beside you. You could feel his legs brush against yours as you the two of you laid on your sides facing one another.

“…Hugh’s a live one, isn’t he,” Tommy commented.

“He hasn’t been told no much before.”

“That became quite clear.”

You shivered at the thread of steel in Tommy’s tone. You reached out, tracing a finger gently along the back of his hand.

“Thank you again,” You added, “For stepping in when you did.”

“I told you,” Tommy turned his hand over beneath yours. “If I ever find out another man touched you, I’ll give you his hands.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose.

“May put a bit of a damper on your contract with his father.”

“Though they’d make an excellent trophy above the mantle.”

“That’s vile,” You giggled, smile widening as Tommy’s hand wrapped around yours. You were quiet for a few moments, reveling in the heat of his palm against yours. “…I don’t suppose I’m afforded the same opportunity?” You added.

“What do you mean?”

“Whose hands would I get to take as a trophy?”

Tommy met the statement with silence, and it made you want to sink into the bed. You’d been joking—

“There’s been no one,” He finally said. The admission made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s been no one,” He repeated.

“But…Lizzie—”

“Not for months.”

Months. When had it stopped? And—

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He pressed another to your forearm, then shifted closer, lips brushing against your shoulder. He turned his head, and your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Tommy—” You breathed, but you were unable to get another word out as his lips covered yours. You sighed against his lips, raising your other hand to smooth over the close crop of his undercut. He let go of your hand just long enough to grasp your nightdress, using his hold on the fabric to draw you closer, then steer himself up over you. You let your thighs splay as he slotted between them, pressing his bare chest against you, hips flush and grinding against yours. His kisses trailed lower, hands grasping covetously at the fabric covering your chest. He gave the lace a yank, and you hissed softly as you heard it rip.

“Tommy—Oh,” Your mouth fell open as he drew one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, “Damnit—I liked this nightdress.”

Tommy lifted his head, lips brushing your chin. “I’ll get you others,” He grumbled against you, “I’ll buy you a hundred more tomorrow.” His hand slipped between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your pussy. You tipped your hips up into his touch pleadingly, lowering your chin and finding his lips with yours.

“I want you bare,” He murmured against your lips.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.”

The answer made you go still, embarrassment and nerves flipping your stomach. Tommy took your face in his hands, holding your gaze steadily with his.

“I’m going to make love to my wife.”

--

His palm pressed heavily over your mouth, muffling your moans as his cock stretched your needy core. You pressed your head back into the pillows, curling your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around the backs of his.

“Sssh,” He murmured, the push of the hush brushing against your ear. “We don’t want the Blakes hearing, do we?”

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Tommy as you panted broadly against his palm. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. You reached up, tugging Tommy’s hand away and catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. Tommy fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another’s mouths.

Tommy broke your kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to creak with his movements, the slapping of your hips slightly muffled beneath the sheets. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping Tommy’s behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

Your eyes widened as the headboard whacked against the wall behind you.

“Tommy,” You chastised, “Hugh will hear—”

“Let him,” Tommy spat, “Let him hear how I take care of my wife.”

You bit your lip to quiet your moans, grasping his wrist and stilling it as his touch tipped you over the edge. Your hips bounded up against his, chased by the harsh slamming of his hips, and the heat of him spilling into you. The scrape and squeak of the bed quieted as Tommy braced himself over you, looking down at your sweat-sheened body. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your breasts, then up, over your neck. You closed your eyes, curling your arm around his shoulder and resting your hand on the nape of his neck. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the pounding of his heart against yours. You turned your head, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his head.

“…Think that dresser has enough room for my things, too?” He mumbled. You grinned, tightening your grip on him as his hand tenderly smoothed along your thigh.

“It certainly does.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @babaohhhriley ; @thescarletfang ;

[uzurimisery]

chapter 5: the call. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Rating: Explicit

WC: 6746

Warnings: MDNI, he's still insane and possessive, he's not a good guy but he's hot, vomit mention, not beta read

AO3 version | Series master

Friday evening had finally come, the pit in his stomach made Coriolanus anxious. Somehow, despite the years he’d known your mother, and the year he’d spent “dating” you, he had never met your father. The man had taken your mother’s last name when they married, something that rarely happened before, maybe only twice. A myriad of questions swam in his head, threatening to drown him. Ancient myths of sirens singing his doom. Would he be just as insane and twisted as your mother? He couldn’t be, he was far too public-facing. Would he be more like you then? A playful actor with a cold nature? You had to get that from someone and it was not your mother. The traits you shared with her were cruel.

Sometimes his mind was his worst enemy. He conjured up scenarios that ranged from disastrous, to pleasant, to ones that ended Panem as he knew it. He couldn’t shake the feeling like he was walking into the lion’s den. 

“Will you quit picking at that seam?” Tigris slapped his hand away from his suit pocket. “I spent too much time making that for you to ruin it.” It was a miracle she had agreed to come to dinner tonight. 

That last time they spoke had ended badly, the confrontation lingering. Despite their difference, Tigris did care for her cousin. 

“Relax, it won’t come undone from that.”

Grandma’am chided, “Now you two play nice. I am far too excited to talk with Mr Gaul about updating the apartment to let you both ruin it.” She was oblivious to the underlying tension and chirped excitedly about getting a look inside your family estate.

“Sorry Grandma’am,” Tigris always backed off when she got in trouble. “It won’t happen again.”

When the car pulled up to the gates, a private force of peacekeepers let them through, opening the gate after confirming their identities. He had known that your mother kept security with her, but not to this extent. The drive up to the front of the house was long, longer than it should be. The winding driveway, flanked with trees, led them to the crest of the hill and when the canopy lifted, Coriolanus could see your house.

Bathed in the warm orange of the setting sun stood the grand chateau-style mansion. Its two-story structure adorned with intricate architectural details and expansive windows lit from the inside. The mansion’s commanding presence, nestled amidst the green rolling gardens, was a symbol of just how important the Gauls were. 

Tonight was going to be a formidable challenge, his nerves building as they got out of the car and escorted through the front door by an Avox. The foyer featured a grand staircase at the back, sleek black railings with intricate breaks in the straight metal showcasing various scientific objects, custom-made to reflect the occupants of the house. The floors were white marble, polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the twin crystal chandeliers that illuminated the space. If the Snow apartment was extravagant, this was utter decadence, opulence in inches of the estate.

Underneath the foremost chandelier stood your family, your parents flanked you on either side. 

Mr Gaul was a tall man, taller than Coriolanus. His hair was neatly cropped and styled, the sides tapering into his beard, which was short and neatly trimmed. The combination framed his face, etched with lines of experience and an air of stern authority. Everyone in the Capitol knew him to be a fashionable man, and tonight was no exception. His suit was velvet and impeccably tailored, a testament to his discerning taste and attention to detail, only adding to his imposing physique. He had on a house coat as well. It was in a matching velvet and embroidered everywhere apart from the trim, with fine beads swirling and encircling each other. He had a way of making people look at him. It must be where you got it from. Your mother was speaking to the both of you as he watched on. 

Dr. Gaul was not wearing a lab coat-esque top for once and instead was in a black pantsuit. The trousers hung straight on her, a crisp pleat going down the centre, stopping just past the heels. Her blazer had a white inside that carried out onto the lapels, and under it was a simple black blouse. She had told him once that fashion was something she didn’t care about. 

You were the first to notice the Snow family approaching. It seemed like black was your family’s colour tonight. Your gown was longer, trailing behind you as you walked, turtleneck and long-sleeved. It was simple. Nothing very interesting about it other than the way it clung to your curves. You pulled your hair back and up, a few curls loose to frame your face. You were stunning.

“Welcome Snow family,” Dr. Gaul spoke first. “Thank you for joining us tonight.” She extended her hand for Grandma’am to shake. 

Grandma’am shook it and offered her own greetings. “Thank you for your invitation. I thought it a wonderful idea to get us together before the engagement party.”

“Of course. Mr. Gaul was insistent on it.” Did he have a protective streak? 

Your father finally spoke, his voice bassy and resonant. “I would like to know the man my daughter is marrying before walking her down the aisle.” He was friendly, all smiles, as he grabbed Grandma’am’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You must be Mrs. Snow. Lovely meeting you.”

He moved on to Tigris, offering similar treatment, before coming to Coriolanus. Mr Gaul stared him up and down, picking apart his appearance. Coriolanus felt like a shadow was being cast over him, the man looking down at him as if he was appraising a purchase. His gaze was unwavering, judgement and assessment being made every second Mr Gaul looked at Coriolanus. He could feel the pressure mounting, settling on top of him heavy and grinding, expectations being placed on him. 

“So this is the man that has the Capitol in such a stir, proposing to my daughter without a ring on national TV.” 

Coriolanus stood tall, composed despite Mr Gaul’s intensity. “Yes, sir.” 

The older man cracked a smile, bright and blinding, as he reached out to grab Coriolanus’ hand. Mr. Gaul’s hands were soft, but Coriolanus could still feel the remnants of calluses. “I like your gumption, son.” Relief washed over Coriolanus. 

“I couldn’t risk the chance of ever losing her,” Coriolanus smiled, hoping it was charming. 

“Are you two done, then?” Your question was jovial, playful and light, as you came to the pair. Mr. Gaul pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. He watched Coriolanus as he did, the smile he previously had gone and his eye holding a warning. Perhaps Mr. Gaul was the judge and jury, and Dr. Gaul was the executioner when matters came to you. 

“We’re done.” Mr. Gaul’s previous expression was back on his face as you pulled away from the hug. “The chef is just finishing up the first course. While he does, I wanted to give you all a tour of Gaul Manor.”

“A tour would be wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Gaul.” Tigris was the first to accept the offer, wanting to get away from whatever had just happened between your father and her cousin. She was followed by Grandma’am voicing excited agreement. 

“I’d like to show Coriolanus the gardens before the sunsets entirely. Would that be alright Father?” 

Mr. Gaul didn’t seem like he wanted that to happen at all, lips tightening into a fine line, but the man was weak to you. He always had been. “Of course, baby girl.” Surrender.

You walked Coriolanus to the gardens, pointing out the different rooms as you went. The click of your heels echoed down the corridors. He could see the back patio lead out to the rear gardens down a set of stairs. The train of your dress was going to get dirty if you walked around like that. He grabbed it, lifting it off the ground for you. Why did he do that? He didn’t care if the dress ruined, clothes were just clothes. Did he care if it had been ruined and it upset you? His emotions had been haywire since he woke up. 

The twilight embrace of the gardens was nice, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of insects. Suddenly you laughed, holding your stomach and grabbing Coriolanus’ arm as you walked through the garden. 

“You looked terrified.” 

Indignation ate at him. “I did not.” 

“You did. I swear I could see you trembling, shaking in your shoes as he stared at you.” You straightened up, facing him. “He’s always wanted to do that to someone. He thinks it’s one dad thing he’s never had the chance to do.” 

“Wonderful” Coriolanus was sardonic in his reply. 

“Oh, lighten up. Let him have his fun. If this alliance is serious, this will be the only time he’ll see me get married.” 

Did you not believe Coriolanus was serious about this? He had told you, in not so many words, that he wanted this. He didn’t make friends, let alone allies, but you were both things. Was your worry about him falling in love with someone and screwing you over serious? How could you doubt him? He had given you no reason to. 

“It is serious. Did you think I’d say that in jest?” 

You shrugged. “Perhaps. You’ve been all over the place for the past couple of months. One minute we’re friends and the next you’re telling me off for standing too close to Dennis Fling, of all people.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Coriolanus knew that the answer was lacklustre. It didn’t account for his actions, nor explain them. The past few months there had been a lot on his mind, grappling with his growing feelings for you and going between acting on them or closing them off completely. He’d get close to the latter, and then he’d see you again and his resolve lost. The want he had for you vexed him, and he’s felt sick to his stomach since realising he loved you. 

“You can talk to me about it.” Your shoulder bumped into his as you spoke. “We are friends, and allies now, too.”

“Another time perhaps.” 

“Sure.”

The rest of the stroll through the greenery was quiet. Coriolanus lost himself in his own head again. Should he give up his previous plan and tell you how he feels now? It was there, threatening to jump out of his mouth. But doing that was risky. You could still walk away from him. He should just wait until you had been married or a few before telling you that being married made him fall in love with you, not that his desire to possess you led to him genuinely coming to care for you in the past year. Sick and twisted bastard he was.

He was in too deep, the surface feet above him and he could not reach it. 

“We should go back inside with the others. I imagine dinner’s ready by now.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Coriolanus held onto the train of your dress until you were back inside, letting it fall and fan around you. He hadn’t realised the chill that had seeped into his bones from being out there. It wasn’t cold today. Maybe he was just sensitive. He made sure to escort you properly, fearful your father would pop out of a corner, glaring at him for not treating you properly. Dr. Gaul had cameras everywhere, so who’s saying there weren’t any in the house?

When the two of you reached the dining room, the rest of the party was seated. This was the smaller of the dining rooms, the other being reserved for large parties. Mr Gaul had designed the one to offer a more intimate space, better for conversing as a whole. It was just as ornate as the rest of the house, the ceiling an ornamental relief. Each of the Gauls sat at opposite ends of the table, Tigris and Grandma’am on the left and right of Dr. Gaul respectfully, leaving the only seat free near your father. 

Coriolanus pulled your chair on for you before sitting on his own on your father’s right. Two waiters came out, putting down plates in front of everyone and filling their wine glasses with crisp white. The first course was some sort of salad, colourful on his plate, a champagne vinaigrette tossed over it. 

“What did you think of the gardens, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Gaul asked him as she took a sip, an eyebrow raised. 

“They were wonderful.” His words were polite, nothing too overplayed.

“Indeed.” Was he supposed to say more? 

Before he could, Mr. Gaul injected. “I spent a long time designing them and then pruning them. When the plants finally matured, I hired a gardener for it, hoping that they’d be taken care of. But much to my chagrin, they weren’t. So I fired that gardener.” 

Your mother hummed. “Finding a new one was a simple task, wasn’t it, husband?”

“Very. You’d be surprised at the number of competent men who lined up for the job.” 

“You had a replacement picked out that same day if I recall correctly, no?” 

“Indeed, I did.” Mr Gaul wiped at his mouth with the napkin on his lap. “Luckily, that new gardener was good at his job.” The threat was hardly hidden in the story. Coriolanus was replaceable to the Gauls. If he acted out of line with you, they would cut him down. He felt your foot rub his ankle, a show of comfort. 

“You’ve always been too attached to those gardens father,” You were aware of what your parents were telling this story for. “Someone might think that it was your child and not me.” 

Mr. Gaul backed off. “Well, they would only be partially blind to confuse the two of you. You’re as pretty as a rose.” 

“Grandma’am are you still keeping up your rose garden on the roof?” Coriolanus could kiss you right now, as you steered the conversation away from him. 

The chatter was light as everyone ate, courses coming and going. Mr Gaul was a jokester, cracking them to make yourself, Tigris, Grandma’am and even Dr. Gaul laughed, but it never reached her eyes. They were always on him, studying what he said and did. How he looked at you. 

It was odd, striking in a sense, so different from the initial stiffness of your interactions and formality that had previously been established. It was homey, a warm blanket on a cold day. You had grown up like this, a sprout the Gauls had watered and tended to until you bloomed one day just as you were now. 

Would you want a house like this? To have family dinners and tell stories of the days you had? Coriolanus didn’t think he could offer that. He didn’t know how to be a good partner, only play at one. His parents’ marriage was one based on fear and obsession, just like his own feelings for you. To him, that’s what love, partnership, was. A foundation of need. Even now he still wanted to hide you away, to run from the situation. Your parents’ overarching care for you is tenuous to navigate. It’d be a tough role, he’d stumble over his lines, his delivery shaky, but he could try if it made you happy. If it made you stay. If it made you love him.

___________________________

“We’ve received an increase in our budget.” Dr. Gaul stood at the front window of her office. It was two stories above the main lab and looked out over it all. 

From here she saw all. Right now she was watching you, her only child, as you led a training session. Your lab coat was an altered one. She had permitted you to wear black over the usual white. It was an older style, pre-war, from a country that was no doubt dead. You had read about them in an old book, Cheongsam, and you told her that when you grew up, you wanted a lab coat just like her but one that looked like that. Her favouritism for you was a quiet thing, often unnoticed, but she gave you that. 

She had summoned Coriolanus to her office with little warning. He had been mid-experiment when his communicuff buzzed with two words. “Office. Now.” 

He was unsure what she needed to tell him that urgently. When the family dinner ended well, he assumed he was off the hook. Mr. Gaul agreed to push the engagement party to the end of the month, instead of when it was supposed to be today, citing that he wanted to make the event more grand. Coriolanus was grateful for that. 

“That’s great news. It allows us to move forward with expanding the arena”

“Yes, it does.” Dr. Gaul’s tone was flat, devoid of her usual sing-song, her hands clasped behind her back as she stared down below. It was always so quiet in her office. There was no ambient noise to soothe the mind, only silence unless you spoke, and she was quiet. 

“Do you need me for anything else Dr. Gaul?” 

“Tell me, what do you think of her?” His blood turned to ice. 

“Of who?”

“Don’t play stupid,” she sighed, low and heavy. “Of my daughter, my Y/N.” 

His panic built, rising in his throat, the taste of bile settling on the back of his tongue. His heart pounded, a relentless drumbeat surging against his ribs. It was so loud he swore she could hear it. Sweat built at his forehead, his palms clammy. This was a test. She had seen something at the dinner that set her off, a bloodhound on a trail.

“I…” his voice caught in his throat, words refusing to form. “I think she’s extraordinary.” 

The words felt inadequate, but too much at the same time. Did she want to hear about how skilled you were? Should he lament on your strongest attributes and how he admired them? Or should he confess to his greatest sin, his need to have you?

“Yes, she is.” The short answer she gave only tormented Coriolanus, unable to determine what course to take. “Did you know she almost killed me?”

He stammered. “I’m sorry?” 

“When she was born, she almost killed me. I carried her for 40 weeks, gave up opportunities for her, and then when she came into this world, kicking and screaming, I nearly bled out,” she spoke without turning to face him. 

“I-”

“I didn’t like her at the start. She was small and fragile and cried so much. I could never get her to latch properly, making her colic. There were times when I wanted to end my suffering and kill her, but each time her father would be there and she’d calm down again. She’d smile. And then one day, three weeks after she was born, she latched on with no issues.” He was afraid to speak again. 

“I started watching her after that, treating her like an experiment. To me, she was one. Was I capable of motherhood? Of loving a child? It’s a hypothesis that is still being tested to this day. Bur preliminary results show one thing.” her body turned and finally facing him. “I care for her. I have killed for that girl and I will do it again, regardless of the consequences.”

Dr. Gaul began walking towards him, her steps silent.

I raised her with everything that I had. I gave her every opportunity and helped guide her into the ambitious woman she is today. From the moment she suckled on my teat, I laid the world at her feet, feeding her independence.” 

They were face to face now. Even though she was markedly shorter than him, she still looked down at him. 

“Are you a threat to her independence, Mr. Snow?”

Coriolanus stood his ground, gaze unwavering under Dr. Gaul’s scrutiny. Her tone laced with pride for you and an accusation for him. She questioned if he was a threat to you. Was she threatening to kill him? Replace him like they had the gardener.

“I would never do anything to jeopardise her independence, Dr. Gaul.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Even now, after years of working together, she unnerved him. “I would never dream of doing anything to harm her.”

Your independence with him was still under question. If he could let you do as you please, just like you had been this whole time, was something he didn’t know the answer to. So far, your independence has been good for him. But would it always? People change over time and who was to say you wouldn’t change, no longer view him positively. If that happened, your independence would most likely be lost. He wouldn’t let you get away from him. Would he hurt you then? Nothing life-threatening.

“Her father likes you.” Her eyes narrowed, slits like a viper ready to strike. She tore apart his words as she looked over him, searching for any hint of deceit, but she found none. “Do you know how an actor dies?”

“No.”

“They start to believe the part they play is real, that the story is real, that their feelings are real. Do you believe that it’s real?” He wanted to vomit, expel the contents of his stomach and her feet. To gag and gag as they poured out. She was onto him. She knew everything. 

“No, it’s not real.” 

She had seen the lie there, that he thought it was real, and that his feelings for you were real, and she called him on it. “Don’t lie to me, Mr. Snow.”

“It’s real.” He was exposed. “It’s real to me.”

She turned again, walking back to the overlook. What ever anger she had for him now covered. He couldn’t tell what she wanted. Was this the right answer? Had he passed her test? 

Her voice was flat when she spoke. “If you ever hurt her, I will destroy you. I will cut you from pelvis to neck, pull your innards out and suspend them. I will lock you in that state, pump you full of the bare minimum nutrients you need to live and force you to watch your loved ones die, and for her to live on happily. Do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Good. Now get out of my sight.” 

Coriolanus was out of the room before she could finish her sentence as Dr. Gaul’s words rang in his ears. She would always be watching him, making sure that you were safe. You would always be hers before you were his. She knew the truth now too, that his perverse need for you, debauched thoughts, had him in love with you. His tie felt like it was choking him, fingers pulling at the knot to free it. His pace rushed as he retreated into his private lab. This was bad. It was more than bad; it was deadly.

How did he play this out? Would Dr. Gaul demand you stop seeing him, ruin all his plans? She wasn’t someone who spoke in empty threats and Hypotheticals; she spoke only of factual reality. Even if it meant destroying her protégé, she would do it for you. This was a bed of his own making, tangled in the sheets called emotion and desire, that he had to lie in. 

On the walk to his lab, he could feel Dr. Gaul watching from above. Or perhaps he was paranoid, imagining the feeling of a thousand eyes on him. Coriolanus’ mouth was dry, his hands trembling slightly. Weakness prevalent. Panic prevalent.

When the door closed, he nearly collapsed, stumbling across the room, knocking over a cup of pens as he reached his chair. The rows of instruments, intricate machinery with vials filled with different solutions, sat mocking him. They were tainted. Signifiers of his ambition now show just how much he still lacked. 

If your mother knew, did you? Had you known his feelings this entire time and strung him along? If you had known of those, how much did you really know? Coriolanus had never considered what you might know about him and what he’s done. What if Dr. Gaul had told you of his sins, how he turned on Sejanus and reaped the benefits? The possibility of you knowing the truth, his biggest flaws, wasn’t something he could let happen. You’d turn on him in judgment, your affection lost. 

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, the mask slipping on again. 

“Come in.” He needed to drink something. Speaking felt like sandpaper on his vocal cords. 

The door opened as you slipped in, closing it behind you. “You alright? You looked like you were upset.” 

You were the last person he wanted to see right now, unsure if he could hide what was going on. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just need to rerun a test.” 

“Oh. That’s unlike you,” you spoke as you plopped down on his couch, clueless about his struggle. “Normally you’re so on top of things.” 

You didn’t believe him. You were questioning him. Have you already spoken with your mother? Did she tell you everything? The temptation to confess, clear the air before it could change, pulled at him. 

“What do you know?” His accusation was sharp. 

Your presence, perceptive gaze that was always watching, unnerved him. “In general or?”

“What do you know about me? About my past?” Coriolanus knew he had to tread carefully, caution in every breath. He had to stay guarded and protect his ambition, but he desperately craved your understanding. The acceptance that what he had done was fine. 

You were silent, unsure what to say, dropping your flashlight in the dark, reaching out to find it. “Well,” He could tell with just that you knew it all. “All of it, I suppose, other than what you were feeling.” 

His voice wavered, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “How?” 

“I was there when my mother got the jabberjay. She almost ignored it, but I pushed her on it.” You had always known what he had done the whole time. “I told her that the extremes she had always wanted me to go to and I was incapable of, you could do them. That you’d be what she wanted.”

You had been the catalyst, the one that saved him from having to live out 20 years of service in District 2. At any point, you could have told the Plinths what he had done, but you didn’t. You had met them many times and never said anything. In fact, you offered condolences for their loss when you had first met them. Said that Sejanus had always been a positive light at the Academy. 

“What about the games?” 

“Just that you cheated, gave her rat poison and made the snakes desensitised to Lucy Gray’s smell.”

You sat there, casual and relaxed in his lab, acceptance clear. There was no question of morality from you, how he could do that to Senjaus, how he could cheat at the games. You understood that the ends justify the means. This was just another ordinary Tuesday for you. 

“I did have one question for you about her actually,” Coriolanus tensed. “Did you love her?” 

“No.” Coriolanus hadn’t loved Lucy Gray. He loved controlling her. He thought that being with her would be enough, but it wasn’t. She would always be District, low class and Covey, and he would always be a Snow. It was youthful naivety to think that being with her would ever amount to anything. 

“Is she dead?” 

“Yes, I killed her.” 

“What changed? You looked close during the games.” 

“She was a distraction, a liability, a threat to my success.” That’s all Lucy Gray had ever been to him. “So I killed her.” 

“You were right to kill her, then. Sounds like she was a loose end and the last thing we need is loose ends.” You were so unbothered by his confession, like you had expected it ages ago. “We should be more truthful with each other if this alliance is going to last.”

“Then it’s your turn to share. You know my biggest secret.” 

He felt calm now. The weight of your acceptance comforting him. Morality was inconsequential in the pursuit of greatness, and you knew that and you agreed with it. He had been vulnerable. You could have struck and crushed his heart by running, but you sat there taking it in. 

“No more secrets?” you questioned, offering to establish equal ammunition on his side. A pact of mutually agreed destruction. 

“No more secrets.”

“Do you remember Emon Quiver? You might have seen him on the Academy campus before. He was in my year.” You went on describing the boy, familiarity reminding him exactly who you were talking about. 

“He’s the one who got sent to District 11, no?” 

“That’s him. I lied about him ever touching me. Poor boys never touched a woman because of me.” Coriolanus watched you pick at the lint on your trousers. “The true story is that I was cheating off of him in history with Professor Demigloss. It was fine for a while. He let me do it with no problems until one day he wanted more from me, tried to say I owed him and if I didn’t sleep with him, he’d tell everyone that I was cheating.”

“What did you do?”

“What needed to be done. Told him to meet me in the library, made out with him a litter, put us in a position where he looked like he was in control and forced me. I waited for a few minutes, letting it happen. He didn’t know it, but they were doing an inspection of the Library that day, and all the staff was there. So they walk in and see Y/N Gaul underneath him. I started crying, begging him to stop, and said that I didn’t want this. Next thing you know, he’s off in 11 with no flesh on his fingers, if he even has fingers anymore.” You yawned as you finished the story. 

Your moral compass was just as fucked as his own. The willingness to crush others beneath your heeled feet, like the bugs that they were, was so similar to his own. “What if they believed him?” 

You laughed. “Why would they?” The point was fair, you were very convincing. “Anyway, that’s my big secret. I was thinking we should go out for lunch today. I’m tired of being in the lab.”

“I think that’d be fine. You can pick where we go.” 

As you started going through the option that you and he could go to, Coriolanus was stuck in limbo. He had expected this conversation to go so much worse than it did. You hadn’t cared that he turned on Sejanus and Lucy Gray. In fact, you commended him for it. Told your mother that his willingness to destroy others, kill their physical form and the memory of them, was a good thing, something she needed. It sent a jolt through him, heady with lust, making him giddy. You were validating his true nature, content with the darkness, at home in it. 

He felt a connection with you he had never felt before. You weren’t the sheltered playing card he had thought you to be, but a formidable force all in your own right. You understood the true nature of power and control, and the extremes one had to take to obtain it. You were cruel and vindictive, condemning a man to District 11 for threatening you.

It excited him. The prospect of navigating the Capitol’s political arena side by side, both of you playing the game well. There might be times when your interests clashed, but you were smart and willing to adapt. 

All he could think about was biting into your cherry-red lips like the fruit they were. Their tempting fullness waiting for him. He used to be afraid you’d run if you knew his truth. Now that you knew it, he just wanted you more.

But could he bear telling you that?

Don't worry! The series isn't dead. Holidays have just had me busy

(edit: forgot to do the tag list originally, silly me)

@serrendiipty @namelesslosers @glitteryblizzardsalad @harrysbitvh123 @secretsicanthideanymore @ayyyeeeeidk @hinata7346 @kisstheskin @sumo-b98 @duds31

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Something Wicked: Final Part

Read part one here

Read part two here

Read part three here

Jennifer's morning in her grand mansion was a far cry from her previous life as a goth girl. She awoke in a plush, canopied bed with silk sheets, her room bathed in soft, filtered light. Her skin was practically glowing with beauty as she took off her eye mask and got out of bed.

She sauntered over to her walk-in closet and gazed at its vastness, filled with designer outfits. Each outfit was mostly bright and preppy, a stark contrast to her previous goth attire. But her mind never once thought of the girl she used to be. Her desires and her thoughts were all focused on being Jennifer, the mean spoilt princess of high school were none were her equal.

In the expansive bathroom, adorned with marble and gold accents, she marveled at the decadence. As she gazed at her reflection in the gilded mirror, a feeling of superiority washed over her. The part of her who used to be content with simple routines was now basking in opulence.

A chauffeur-driven car awaited her outside, ready to take her to school. Jennifer descended the grand staircase, her high heels echoing through the mansion's marble foyer. Her parents, who were equally as absorbed in themselves, barely noticed her as she left.

Jennifer's life had become a whirlwind of luxury, vanity, and popularity. It was a stark departure from the goth girl's humble existence and was transforming her into a person she had never imagined she could become.

Once she stepped out of her car at school she was immediately flanked by her beta besties Amanda and Brooke who instantly showered her with compliments and a drink from Starbucks.

“Oh my gosh, Jennifer, you look absolutely stunning today!” Amanda gushed, her eyes wide with admiration.

Brooke, equally effusive, chimed in, “Seriously, Jennifer, you’re like the most gorgeous girl in school. Everyone’s talking about it!”

Jennifer basked in their adoration, her vanity fully satiated. As they strolled into the school together, Jennifer continued to soak in the praise. Jennifer couldn’t even remember what it was like to not be popular, to have Amanda and Brooke as her ever-loyal supporters who doted on her every word and gesture. It was intoxicating. But one thing that made her feel more alive than anything else was bullying and she knew just who to target.

“Where’s that loser Lily? I have some new insults I wanted to try out on her.” Jennifer asked and her sycophants just shrugged. Sometimes they were so useless Jennifer thought to herself.

“Whatever, I’m sure we’ll smell that rank bitch before long.” Jennifer smirked and Amanda and Brooke giggled. However, as the school day progressed, Lily was conspicuously absent. Despite Jennifer’s confident prediction, there was no sign of the goth girl. Where was Lily, and why hadn’t she shown up to school? Jennifer couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding, as if this mysterious absence held a deeper significance.

Throughout the school day, Jennifer busied herself with being adored and feared in equal measure. Her newfound popularity and vanity was still intoxicating after a week. She reveled in the compliments, the admiration, and the apprehensive glances of her peers. The nagging sense of foreboding that had haunted her earlier was conveniently pushed aside as she basked in the spotlight.

However, when the final bell rang and the school day came to an end, Jennifer stepped outside to find her chauffeur conspicuously absent. Annoyance began to well up inside her as she realized she had no way to get home. She quickly reached for her phone, intending to call her parents, but the phone rang with no answer.

Jennifer was beyond pissed as she stomped home. Her parents would have to make up for this big time to her, maybe they would finally shell out for that boob job she wanted.

However as she entered her house she knew immediately something was wrong. The grandeur that had surrounded her earlier in the morning had transformed into an eerie darkness. Instead of the bright and white interiors, the house was now painted in sinister shades of black. The luxurious furnishings had been replaced with gothic décor.

With trembling steps, Jennifer entered the unfamiliar space. As she walked closer to the staircase, her breath caught in her throat as a figure came into view. There, sitting on the steps, was Lily. She was dressed in tight black latex, every inch of her exuding a sinister confidence. Her lips were painted black and her hair was a striking shade of deep red. Her eyes gleamed with wicked amusement.

Jennifer stammered, "Lily? What did you do to my home?"

Lilith’s evil smirk widened as she leaned forward, her voice dripping with malevolence. “Oh, Jennifer you prissy little cunt, this isn’t your home anymore. It’s mine now. And the names Lilith”

Before Jennifer could react to Lily's ominous claim, an unseen hand struck her with a powerful blow, knocking her unconscious. Her vision blurred and dimmed, and the last thing she saw was Lily's malevolent grin.

When Jennifer finally regained consciousness, she found herself in a bewildering situation. She was tied to a chair in her own bedroom, which had undergone a profound and unsettling transformation. The bright and cheerful room she had once known was now a dark and eerie shrine to gothic style. Candles cast flickering shadows across the room, and eerie symbols adorned the walls.

Lily's voice, dripping with a silky smooth purr, reached Jennifer's ears. "Oh, good, you're awake," she purred, her black lips parting in an evil smile.

Jennifer, though bound to the chair, summoned her earlier arrogance and attempted to threaten Lilith, her voice quivering. "You get yourself a little goth makeover and you think you’re some kind of hot shit? You have no idea what you're messing with. Release me now, or you'll regret it! My parents will end you after they learn what you’ve done!"

Lilith, however, responded with an unsettling calmness. She maintained her sinister grin and didn't make a move to untie Jennifer, which only heightened the unease that gnawed at her.

“You still don’t get it do you Jennifer, I hold all the cards now. Poor mommy and daddy aren’t coming to your rescue. Not after I threaten to expose all their sordid business dealings. You know the ones I’m talking about. And if you know them I know.” Lilith smirked with superiority as she left the room for a moment for Jennifer to ponder.

Jennifer searched her mind and knew it was true. She remembered her father boasting several times at the dinner table about all his illegal activities. As Jenna she had thought she had ignored it but it had been filed away nonetheless and now Lilith had used it against her former parents.

With eerie deliberation, Lilith returned and wheeled in a television and placed it directly in front of Jennifer.

“Once I had them wrapped around my finger they agreed to move out and I got to work transforming this mansion into my new lair. Having access to their money helped expedite the process of course. Once I threatened them with possible jail time that were only too happy to give up their spoilt princess too.” Lilith grinned as she switched on the tv.

“Fuck you, you dirty goth slut! I don’t believe you! When I get out of here I’m going to make your life a living hell!” Jennifer said defiantly despite tears welling up in her eyes.

Lilith clip clopped over to her slowly in her platform heels and leaned into Jennifer’s ear. She didn’t need to whisper but it felt appropriately sinister.

“I’ve been to hell bitch, I’m the queen there and once I break you’ll love being a part of my empire.” Lilith said. She was close enough for Jennifer to smell. To the cheerleaders surprise, it was an intoxicating aroma that was resurfacing old memories of being Lily that she fight to contain.

Lilith returned to TV and switched it on. On the screen Jennifer saw an unremarkable looking stock room. It was completely still and uninteresting until two figures suddenly burst through the door. They were kissing and groping at each other like two desperate creatures. It took a Jennifer a few seconds to realize who the figures were but when she did her eyes went wide.

“Turn it off! Turn it off now!” Jennifer demanded but that only made Lilith positive her plan would work.

“I could turn it off but I know a part of you, a deeply buried part of you wants me to leave it on and I want her to come out and play.” Lilith said with a wicked smile.

Jennifer couldn’t look away as she watched Lilith and Raven go at it in the stock room of Eclipse. The part of her that was Jenna, was disinterested in such a thing but the part of her that was Lily couldn’t help but start to get turned on. After all Lily had adored Raven and had wanted to be with her for as long as she had been going to the store and now she was watching her old body get exactly what she had long desired and more.

Jennifer bit her lip and softly moaned as she squirmed in her seat watching Lilith and Raven fuck in such a primal way. Lily’s personality was starting to reemerge in her body. She started to wonder why she was wearing such bright and colourful clothes? Why were her nails painted pink instead of black?

However Jenna’s bitchy personality was still too strong and despite her panties being soaked, as the tape wrapped up the cheerleader started to giggle.

“Was that your big plan? Try to awaken the weaker part of me to be some lesbo goth again? Please! I’m happier now being the popular spoilt princess with guys lining up to fuck me than I ever was being a loser goth. Nice try but no one bests Jennifer.” She said with a confident cackle but Lilith seemed unfazed. In fact her smile seemed to increase.

“I was hoping this would be the case because it allows me to move onto plan B.” Lilith said and snapped her fingers. Within seconds the door to the bedroom opened and in walked a woman known to both of them.

“There’s my lovely little nasty slut, kiss your queen a kiss before saying hi to our guest Raven.” Lilith said to her paramour who strode over to her and Jennifer watched as the two of them made out with each other. Watching the video was one thing, seeing it before her eyes made Jennifer almost drool. Had she been standing, her legs almost certainly would have given out.

After what seemed like an eternity Raven broke off from the kiss and set her sights on Jennifer. Raven’s lips were still glossy from her kiss with Lilith as she straddled Jennifer in the chair she was tied to. Leaning in close so only Jennifer could hear, Raven whispered, “I hear you’ve had a crush on me for some time…. Lily.”

Pulling back Raven watched in glee as Jennifer’s eyes darted around, her mind at war with itself. Her persona splintering. Raven seized upon the opportunity and kissed her deeply. Jennifer was frozen for a moment before struggling and pushing Raven back off of her.

“What the fuck!? As if you goth bitch! Ohhhh no fuck I want you so bad! No fuck off Lily! I’m in charge here! No you fuck off Jenna! Ohhh that felt good! Fuck you Jenna! Yessss it feels so good to say that! Ughhhhh no! I won’t let this happen! I’m a god damn princess!” Jennifer groaned still holding onto the personality that had been grown and cultivated over the past week.

Rolling her eyes, Lilith approached Jennifer and grabbed her hair, pulling it back so they would lock eyes. “Yeah? Well I’m the fucking queen!” She grinned before sticking her tongue deep into Jennifer’s mouth. Jennifer struggled like before but only for a moment before completely giving into the kiss. The two enemies locked lips intently, swirling around their tongues together, tasting each other passionately.

Jennifer felt her prissy princess attitude melt away and be replaced with a darker melding of Jenna and Lily in much the same way Lilith had been born. She didn’t want to be the spoilt blonde brat anymore, she wanted to be covered in black and sow chaos. She wanted to dwell in darkness and strike fear into others. But more than anything right now, she wanted Lilith.

The feeling seemingly mutual, Lilith practically ripped the bonds around Jennifer’s hands and starting to undress the cheerleader as Jennifer started doing the same in kind to the goth. Raven watched on in amusement as the the tanned blonde brat and her gorgeous goth queen stumbled onto the bed grabbing at every part of each as if it were a matter of life and death. Raven started to finger herself as she watched, enjoying the scene.

“Hey slut, don’t waste those fingers over there, come here and pleasure us.” Jennifer demanded as she tore away from Lilith for a second to address Raven who stood frozen for a second unsure if she should do as asked.

“Well what are you waiting for, you heard Jennifer.” Lilith told the perplexed Raven.

“Fuck that name! Call me Guinevere.” The cheerleader said with a sinister grin.

“Mmm I love it.” Lilith grinned back and returned to kissing her.

The rest of the night was a blur of sweaty limbs, sexual juices and the loud repeating of each of their names. The three women became an ouroboros of pleasure and by morning each had been changed explicitly.

Days went by at school without its top girl and it’s most reliable punching bag and there were whispers that Lilly had finally snapped and killed her tormentor. No one was prepared for the pair that walked in the following Monday.

Clad in tight black revealing latex with matching dyed red hair and a multitude of piercings and tattoos between them, mouths were on the floor as Lilith and Guinevere walked in clutching each other like the intimate couple they now were. They revelled in the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces and took pleasure in making out frequently with each other.

None were more shocked than Amanda and Brooke who managed to pull Guinevere away from Lilith to talk to her.

“Jennifer what’s gotten-” Amanda started to ask before Being cut off by Guinevere.

“Guinevere.” She simply said.

“What?” Amanda replied.

“My name. It’s Guinevere now.” The new goth said staring icily at her former besties.

“Snap out of it babe! This isn’t you! She’s done something to you! Didn’t you say a couple of weeks ago something about an amulet to make you lesbo or something?” Brooke asked desperate for an explanation.

Guinevere turned away from the two girls so she could roll her eyes. These two idiots were in need of a reeducation and she knew exactly where to send them.

“O. M. G. You guys, she’s brainwashed me or something. She… ugh… said something… ugh.. about the amulet being kept in the… ugh… mall. Some store called…. Uggggh… Eclipse… you have to help me!” Guinevere said clutching her head and giving the performance of a life time.

“We knew it! Don’t worry babe, we’ll save you! Come on Brooke!” Amanda said and the two girls rushed away. Once they were out of sight Guinevere lifted up her head and smiled sinisterly. Lilith rejoined her girlfriend.

“What did those two bitches want?” Lilith asked with a sneer.

“Oh just to save my soul. I sent them to Raven to start a little reprogramming. We’ll join her later and then they’ll see our way of things soon enough.” Guinevere smirked at Lilith who returned it with added lust in her face.

“Oh you evil little fucker, I love the way your mind thinks.” Lilith said wrapping her arms around Guinevere.

“You should, it’s the exact same way yours works too. Now how about we find a closet to fuck in and then we can go see how Raven is doing.” Guinevere said already pulling Lilith along.

“You read my mind you hot little minx.” Lilith said closing the door behind them.

The end

[kissingghouls]

'leave me behind' and Terzo if I may ☺️ you can chose if you want to break my heart or just let him be the drama queen we know and love 💜

Oh my goodness Cake this took so long! I am so sorry 😭

Here's 1k words of Drama Queen Retired Terzo Fluff 💜 (Terzo x Reader [gender neutral reader, but there is a mention of wearing a dress], established relationship, relatively SFW but suggestive, MDNI, not beta read)

Terzo Emeritus is a magnificent bastard. Magnificent and beautiful. The warm light of the morning shines on your lover’s bare face—a luxury very few are allowed to see even now in his retirement. Trouble is, he’s as charming as he is handsome. The Third has completely stolen your heart and—if you were inclined to search through his room—probably some of your clothes as well.

The suite is just as dreamy and over-the-top as he is, all luxe velvet and silk in the deepest violet built to house royalty. An opalescent gleam dances over every surface thanks to the large stained glass window on the far wall. Touches of gold and marble from the fireplace to the valet where his suit waits for him seem to sparkle at this hour. Even the bed feels softer than the night before—as if Papa Emeritus III would sleep on anything less than a cloud. 

It's hard to leave this place. As much as you’d love to dramatically drape yourself over every opulent piece of furniture in the room and pose like a Victorian woman waiting for a letter, there were things to do. You were happy Terzo was enjoying retired life—even more so that he was spending his leisure time with you—but he’s been pretending to be asleep for a half-hour and you really need to get out of this bed. 

You’ve tried wiggling, huffing, and physically trying to pry his fingers away from you, but Terzo will not let go. Normally you think it’s sweet the way he clings to you, but he knows you have important meetings to attend. And he knows exactly how it will look if you are late. 

“Terzo, please,” you finally try, your voice hitting a pitched whine you hadn’t intended. You hope it helps to make your point.

“Amore,” he whines back. His eyes are still shut tight, but he’s fighting that sweet Terzo smile you usually enjoy.

“You have to let me go, Terzo.”

He groans in response, tightening his grip on you.  “I will never.”

“Terzo, darling, I need to get dressed. You know how they get if I’m late for a meeting.”

He sighs heavily and slowly releases his hold. Before he can change his mind, you slip from the bed and gather your clothes for the day. He watches you dress, eyes following the line of your body as you move through the room. He knows every part of you now, loves every part of you. There isn’t a dip or curve he hasn’t traced with his fingers or his tongue. He’s committed each freckle and scar to memory, knows them better than all those songs he used to sing. Songs he’d still sing at your request, but only for you.

Maybe he is a selfish man, but he can’t help but want you to stay in his arms. If not forever, then at least ten—no—sixty more minutes.

“Go on then,” he laments, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes. “Leave me behind.”

The mattress dips under the weight of your knee as you sigh and climb back onto his ridiculous bed. You straddle his waist, leaning forward to press a kiss against his chest—that perfect pretty space right over his heart. “Terzo?” Your voice is soft, but you know he can hear you. You repeat his name, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t move at all.  “Terzo, look at me.”

“I can’t,” he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out a little more as he keeps his arm in place. 

“Why not?”

“You’re too beautiful. Like staring into the sun,” he admits with a sigh. “And if I look at you now, you will never make it to that meeting. What kind of man would I be then? Contributing to your delinquency?”

You bite your lip and pry his arm away from his face, pinning it to the mattress instead. “I think you would be the same man you were last night—the same man who spent the entire evening with a hand up my dress.”

“Well, that’s not my fault, amore. You have bewitched me, temptress. I’m nothing more than a possessed man.”

“I wasn’t complaining.”

“Oh?” He asks, his left eyebrow quirked up. “Perhaps you could tell me what you meant, so I can understand.”

“I like you. I like being with you. I like being around you. I would rather stay here with you and let you worship me than sit in that stuffy conference room for even one second.”

“Sì, sì. I like where this is going,” he teases, raising his hips under you.

“But—” You pause to pin his other arm to the bed, holding him firmly. “If I miss this meeting, you better make it worth it—”

“Oh, amore, I—”

“And you are coming up with a much better excuse this time.”

He frowns. “And what was so bad about the last one?”

“Telling you brother I ‘choked on something’ isn’t exactly subtle.”

“Copia? He wouldn’t know an innuendo from his own fist.”

“You know the Siblings call him ‘Fuck Machine’ right?”

“They what—”

“It doesn’t matter, but you should be very proud.”

“Ah, sì, good for him I suppose…Why do you know they call him that?”

“Shush darling, it’s just girl talk.”

“Wait, what do they call me?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m going to work.”

His body shifts and twists until his hands are free. He grabs your waist, easily pushing you onto your back before he climbs over you. He softly traces his lips over your jaw as he speaks. “You said you’d stay.”

“I said if I stay. And that you better have a good excuse.”

“Hmm,” he hums, drawing a hand between your legs. “I don’t know, amore. I think it feels like you might be getting a fever.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, Hell Flu is deathly contagious too. We should quarantine for at least a week I think.”

“A week, huh?”

“At least. You may need even longer to recover. I’m afraid you are very, very ill. I’ll call Copia and let him know you aren’t feeling well. You go ahead and get undressed, amore. Let me take care of you,” he says with a wink and hops up to call in sick for you.

[climbthemountain2020]

The Adventure - Eris Week Day 5

@erisweekofficial Day 5: War/Adventure

Biggest thanks ever to @cauldronblssd and @witch-and-her-witcher for the beta reads on this. Also @cauldronblssd made this mood board and I haven't stopped laughing since hahaha.

Ao3 Link

For some sibling bonding after a lost bet, Lucien takes Eris to experience a rite of passage. But is Eris ready to enter this new, strange world?

“Lucien, are you absolutely certain about this?”

“Eris, seriously?” Lucien rebutted with a long-suffering sigh, pulling the car around the nearly empty lot.

He shot him a look, irritation and wariness clear on his face.

“Don't Eris, seriously me. This place looks like it might give me tetanus if I touched any surface for too long.” There were dark clouds building on the low horizon, and Eris couldn’t help but see it as a portent of things to come.

“You're too high brow. You need to relax and come join the rest of us plebeians for some joy every once in a while.”

Lucien slammed the car into park, Eris huffing as his head slapped back against the seat. Years of experience hadn't made Lucien any better at driving, though Lucien seemed entirely unaware of it every time he got into a car to put the rest of the community at risk. Eris rubbed the back of his skull with a hand while Lucien ignored him. As always, Lucien was calm and collected as he pulled his keys from the ignition, an assured air in everything he did that Eris had never experienced a single day in his life without faking it.

“I'm certain I just saw a man fighting a raccoon behind that dumpster.” Eris was only half kidding.

Lucien smiled broadly, the wisps of their mother's copper hair hanging loosely around his face. “I'm not gonna discount that. That means the food is good.” Eris wasn’t sure if Lucien was more than half-kidding, either.

He grimaced, but followed suit as Lucien opened his door. The air here was hot, muggier somehow that it was further inland in the city. Lucien spent his time further out by the coast, his and Elain’s pricey beach house intentionally looking well-used and well-worn. It was both opulent and cozy somehow, but Lucien fit in out here. He enjoyed being surrounded by people and novelty and community.

Eris, on the other hand, preferred his upgraded, updated, historical and now very fashionable Tabby home in the center of the city. He liked being a brief drive or walk from wherever he needed to go–typically a drive because the air here was insufferably heavy year round. When he'd been promoted last year and found that the new offices were on the Lowcountry coast, he'd envisioned antebellum architecture, sandy beaches, and swaying palms. What he’d not anticipated was that every single season seemed to be covered in a weighted blanket of salty sea air heavy enough to bring sweat to your lip the second you stepped outside the loving, protective bubble of the air conditioning.

“It's a crime you've lived here this long and never been here.”

Eris scoffed, looking down his nose at the squat building, tones of yellow, red, and gray mixing in a discordant mix of colors that didn't quite fit together. He had acquiesced, though, after losing a bet with Lucien last week, who had been absolutely appalled to hear Eris had never been to a Waffle House.

“Stop acting like you’re going to war. It’s literally a Waffle House, Eris.”

Lucien opened the door, gesturing his brother through. He was greeted with the smell of frying meats and brewing coffee, twisting around his nose and enveloping his senses lovingly against his better judgment. Eris paused for a moment before opening the inner door, wondering if he might use his handkerchief to open the greasy helm of this establishment, but Lucien was already there grabbing it.

“Pussy.”

Eris gritted his teeth and shoved him, following Lucien in, who was of course waving at everyone, looking like an old friend.

“Lu! Back so soon? It's not Wednesday!” The cook was a rotund older man, his salt and pepper stubble covering every inch of his lower face. He could have been someone’s grandfather had his face not been entirely filled with prison tattoos.

“Can't stay away, Bo. The waffles call to me.” Lucien slid easily into a seat at a booth by the windows, Eris following suit and grimacing as the hard plastic of it cracked against his tailbone.

“How often do you come here?”

“At least once a week. Elain loved their grits bowls when she was pregnant with Lara, and then we just made it a habit.”

Eris startled as a grizzled old woman seemed to suddenly appear at the side of their table, her haggard appearance reminding him of the witch masks they used to sell at Kmart in the early 90s.

“Rena! I haven't seen you in awhile. I wondered if you were still here.” The aged woman grinned a near-toothless smile at his little brother. She reeked of stale cigarettes layered over the smell of coffee and the cloying undercurrent of weed. Her curled bangs were teased to the skies, and her baby blue eyeshadow was sparkling over wrinkled eyelids.

“Yeah, well I was workin’ night shift until Katie beat the shit out of Carl on Sunday. Now I'm coverin’ until we can find someone else.” The drawl to her voice was unmatched, truly a relic from the coasts down here.

Lucien let out a low whistle. “That was bound to blow up eventually.”

What the fuck is happening, Eris whispered under his breath. How did Lucien know these people?

Rena shot him an ugly look, not missing his comment, but Lucien stepped in. “It's my brother’s first time. Gotta pop the Waffle House cherry,” he laughed out, wiggling his eyebrows at Rena. She turned and shot Eris a mocking, saccharine smile while Eris fought the urge to roll his eyes.

She sat a menu down lovingly in front of Lucien, as though cradling a laminated babe, then haphazardly tossed Eris’ at him.

“Coffee?”

Eris and Lucien both nodded and Rena left to go grab mugs.

“How the hell do you know all these people, Lucien?”

“I told you, I'm here at least once a week. If you're not a surly asshole all the time, people talk to you.”

“Then thank God I'm a surly asshole.”

Eris looked down at the brightly colored and slightly sticky menu. He wasn't sure where to begin, and some of the combinations of food were things he'd never even seen before.

“Why would you put scrambled eggs into your grits?”

“Careful. Elain might have your skin for talking shit on her favorite breakfast.” Eris grimaced. “Everything is great, truly you can't go wrong.” Lucien wasn't even looking at the menu, probably assuming he'd just say “my regular” when the waffle bog witch returned.

And return she did, silently again as Eris fought the urge to jump, setting two steaming mugs of coffee down. She was unsettling, a single milky eye tracking him with absolutely unveiled distaste as she dropped a bowl of tiny creamer pods in front of him with a clatter.

“What'll ya have?”

Damn. Eris hadn't decided yet. Lucien, annoyingly gallant, just grinned with all his teeth, pulling her attention to him.

“I'll get my usual.”

Knew it.

“And he’ll have the hashbrowns, double order, extra well, smothered and covered. Do you like it spicy?”

Eris nodded, dumbfounded at the string of words leaving his brother's mouth like some sort of code or spell. “Peppered and country, too, Rena, please.”

She smiled at Lucien. “You want a grits bowl for Elain and a to-go chocolate for the little one too?” His grin broadened and his eyes sparkled.

“You're too sweet to us, Rena, but the girls are at the beach today, so just us.” She patted his shoulder.

“You let me know if you need anything else, and I'll get that right in for ya.”

She left without a single look Eris’ way while he tried to decide what just happened and decode what the fuck Lucien had just ordered him.

“How's work been?”

That, Eris could talk about. He dumped a cream and two sugars into his coffee and stirred.

“Fine. Busy lately with the Strayer case.” There had been a big local uproar lately about the Strayer family–old money and a succession of attorneys with a long line of suspicious crimes covered up over the decades. It had finally all come to a head this past year when the wife and youngest son had been brutally murdered on their plantation property.

Eris had been assigned as partial counsel on the case, and it had been consuming all his days and some of his nights, too. It was invigorating in a way work had never been for him before, and he'd been happily enjoying the challenge

“It's all over the news. You're gonna be some big hot shot now?” Lucien asked, teasingly. Eris sipped the coffee, strong and hot and, against his better judgment, not half bad.

Eris couldn't help but laugh at his brother's teasing. With twelve years between them, they hadn't always been close, but it was nice getting to live near him again. He liked Elain, and he enjoyed being around Lara and playing the fun uncle.

“Hardly. But it has been nice.”

“Has dad called?” The question might as well be rhetorical. Their father, a once-prolific attorney himself in North Carolina, would sooner drop dead than offer a word of praise or kindness towards his children.

“Of course not. But I did talk to mom. She said she’ll be down to visit for Christmas?”

“Yeah, she’s staying with us. You’re welcome to stay at the house–”

The food arrived just in time, steaming bowls of…something dropped in front of both of them, then plate after small plate of orders descended until it felt like the whole table was full. Rena ignored him again as she asked Lucien if he needed anything else before leaving.

“What the fuck did you order me?”

He couldn’t deny it smelled heavenly–some sort of monstrosity with a variety of breakfast foods involved.

“Don’t be a dick, Eris. Just try it.” Lucien was already shoveling food into his mouth. Ever since he’d turned ten, he’d become a human garbage disposal. Eris grimaced, but lifted his fork, checking it for cleanliness before tucking in.

Lucien watched him, still shoveling some sort of breakfast sandwich into his mouth.

The hash browns were a crisp caramel color and shining with grease, the melted “cheese” on top giving off a sparkling sheen of plastic. It looked like onion and jalapenos had been mixed in with breakfast sausage. Eris had never in his life seen anything so ridiculous, but it smelled incredible as he raised a forkful to his mouth.

As soon as he bit down, he knew he was a goner. He’d lost, and now he’d have to humble himself in front of his little brother for being right.

“Well?” Lucien was smirking like he already knew.

“Fine.”

“Fine what, Eris? I couldn’t quite get that.”

“It’s delicious.” The words were garbled as Eris was already barrelling another forkful into his face. He’d never had anything like it. It should be illegal to have any breakfast items this good. No wonder this place needed to look like a back alley diner attached to a prison–it would be flooded if everyone found out how good the food was. He was already calculating the time it would take to drive here on his way to work in the mornings.

As if reading his mind, Lucien pointed the fork at him. “Now you have to make friends with Rena”

“I’m not sure anything I say can endear her to me at this point.” They looked over to find Rena outside lighting a blunt in the parking lot. “Something tells me she isn’t a fan of law enforcement.”

Lucien laughed. “Elain brought her fudge. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Eris was wondering if she might like those cookie baskets the interns were always buying and leaving around the office when she turned, caught him staring, and spit onto the sidewalk while maintaining eye contact with him.

“Yeahhhhh, I’m not gonna hold my breath on that.”

Before he knew it, Eris was scraping the bottom of the plate, the last slips of hash browns evading his fork while Lucien leaned back in his seat, sated.

“Now wasn’t that a lovely breakfast, Eris?” Instead of answering, he swigged down the dregs of his coffee, more satisfied than he’d been at a breakfast in, well, ever.

“Yes, yes. You win, I yield.”

“See, now, if you’d just be more open to going places with me without having to lose a bet to do it, who knows what you might find?”

Eris grumbled something unintelligible.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” The wild eyes of his littlest brother sparkled with mischief as he leaned across the table.

“I’m NOT going to South of the Border with you, Lucien. I don’t care how many times or ways you ask.” But there was a hint of amusement in Lucien’s voice as he issued a responding cackle, the two brothers happy and laughing in the marbled gray plastic booths of the Waffle House.

Taglist: @erisweekofficial @chunkypossum @clockwork-ashes @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @the-darkestminds

[vikwrites]

" DAEMONUIUM " - Tony Stark

Chapter Summary ➣ The Fall of Stark Castle. Pairing ➣ Fallen Prince!Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 611 words Chapter Warnings ➣ Medieval! AU, Slow Burn, Violence, Major Character Death. Author's Notes ➣ An idea by @welldonekhushi, a bit different to what I usually write, next chapter will hopefully provide more context. Thank you to my lovely beta reader @nicoline1998enilocin <3

Prologue - Overture

The rope felt rough against the Prince’s neck.

Tapestries of silk, once proudly displaying the kingdom’s colours and emblems, have been shredded from their rods, some burnt into meagre piles of ash; the rest torn by the passage of time and faded by the harsh sun. 

The throne, once a shining beacon in the grand hall, now stands in solitude. Its layers of gold leaf have been stripped away, revealing the cold iron underneath. The brilliant gemstones that adorned its surface have been pillaged and looted, leaving only empty settings behind. The rows of stained glass windows, each depicting a moment of the kingdom's triumphs, are now shattered, their intricate designs marred into shards. 

The peasants stormed the palace. They came in hordes of near thousands, pitchforks and flames in hand. The grand doors splintered under their force, crashing open to reveal the opulent corridors within. The echoes of their cries reverberated off the stone walls as they surged forward, a seething mass of defiance against the monarchy. The nobles, once standing proud and untouchable, now cowered in their gilded chambers, the unfortunate ones having been slaughtered in cold blood.

The same could not be said for the Prince. For he ran, like a swift wind through every nook and cranny of the castle — up twisting stairwells, down spiralling towers — the peasant’s voices like cries of the damned — the walls quaking with emancipated rage, like the first leak in the wall of a dam, forewarning that nothing could hold for long. His patterned robe dragged upon the floor, stained red with blue blood.

His legs could only carry him so far; he found himself perched at the edge of the turret, overlooking the dark horizon and the sheer drop into the ocean below, the waves crashing against the splintered rocks. He could hear the peasants’ voices as they approached, drawing closer by the second. It dawned on him that death was not a matter of when, but how.

“ There he is, ”  — fear became a tangible, living force, creeping over his figure like some ravenous beast, holding him in a standstill — “ Seize him! ” 

The Prince was bound; not by silver shackles or golden chains, but by simple rope. He was marched like cattle out of the palace gates, being put on as a barbaric display of irreverence; a sovereign turned laughing stock in the span of a night. The peasants scrambled like rats, just for the chance to witness the spectacle. 

Amidst the crackling of bonfires and the scorching heat. His body trembled with cold, but his mind burned with anger — with memories of the firelight still drifting like phantoms in his brain. 

Tears fall from the Prince’s eyes. They meander down his cheeks. 

That fateful second before the floorboards dropped, the Prince pondered if he had anything left to save in death.  He stands in solitude on the gallows. While the Cardinal recited blessings in Latin, the words in the people’s mouths were nothing but curses, laced with vitriol and the name of the Devil, lashing out like a bitten and cornered dog, condemning him to the deepest rings of Hell.

The creak of the floorboards, the roar of the crowd — these were among the last things he would hear before he died. His eyes did not bear remorse; instead, they held shame, to be stripped from the high chambers of the castle and reduced to the same fate as a lowly outlaw. 

What he’d give to be a young prince again, adorned with jewels and veneration — now he’s traded in his necklace for a noose — 

The Prince took his last few straggling breaths, and the floor gave way beneath him.

⎊ back to masterlist

[littlestpersimmon]

Here we go.

A quarter of a quarter of a quarter.

A wip from a spinoff in my other wip.

Opulent rebellious and hedonistic prince and how he met his manipulative adviser and saved him from a brothel. Southeast Asian inspired fantasy world. There is a scene where more than kissing is done!!!!!

M/M (trans / cis )

I was gonna delete this from my twitter but it seems I can't! So posting this here.

This is not proofread / raw and unedited- many mistakes, many confusing bits that I hope to sort out soon. If you like it hehe maybe you can let me know.. I turned on anon for this

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

𒀭 unconventional methods of rescuing your chosen one

── short Neo x Trinity Drabble ── feat. Sub Neo and Dom trin ── I don’t even know where this came from. I’m so sorry. ── TW: implied consent, d/s stuff, nsfw in the Matrix itself, not really proof read or beta read or anything like that, just pure, utter filth

There he is, slick and bobbing, leaking into the dip of his navel, purpling beautifully from her hands and licks and little, teasing kisses. She giggles, placing another light peck to his engorged tip, then rolling her tongue round the wide base, and cradling his bloated balls, lovingly squeezing and spidering with her fingernails.

She’s got his cock banded at the base, and the same stretchy tight rubber secured around his scrotum. The colorful hue of desperation and umpteenth edges muddles so prettily his sensitive skin.

God, needy looks so good on her big hero.

“Oh, Trin. Please lemme cum, Trin.” He pulls at the ropes fixing him to her bed frame, and she chuckles a dark suckle into his hipbone, then grazes with her teeth just to distort his words, get that deep honey voice whining incomprehensibly.

She sucks his tight belly, laps up all that salty cum, flicks her tongue through the sweat sickened cavern of scar tissue and muscle, and then nuzzles into his protruding ribs. He watches her, because she hasn’t put the blindfold on yet—because she’s beautiful and her eyes are shiny with mirth and he’s so fucking desperate but this is just a funny game to her and he loves her so much it hurts and burns and consumes.

His poor nipples. She had spent so long toying with them that they’re bruised and chafed. What a delight it will be, to rub slippery, soothing balm on them later and make his cock twitch and hips fuck the unfulfilling air.

She arrives leisurely at her destination, which is her mouth pressed against his, tongue licking out all the drool and whimpers and timid little sounds of submission. He tastes himself, salty and rich and ruddy and dull in comparison to her sweet spit

“Please, God, Trin,” he whispers, lips moving against her neck when she kisses his temples and the bridge of his nose.

“Honey,” she murmurs, licking the shell of his ear, “are you crying?”

Fat little drops run down his cheeks, his bobbing throat, pool glittering into his collarbones, and she gobbles it all up so lovingly. “That’s alright, Neo. It’s okay. Cry for me. I know. I know it aches.”

His cock must know she’s talking about it, because it throbs in answer, sending a clench of pleasure through him that turns silent tears into ugly sobs and quiet whines into heavy mewls. Under her deft touch, he trembles, quakes the whole bed like he’s sick with the fever that is her devotion, and she pushes her fingers through his hair and cradles him to her bare chest.

Trinity smiles, adoration and pride for him. He’s so brave, so strong, always there for his people, always there to save the day and the team and the stupid fucking world, and if this is the least she can do for him, then she’ll gladly lock him in her opulent cage, embossed with the softest, shiny black latex filigrees, wreathed with glaring, glittering slick and spit, coated with feathery, maddening coos of praise.

And when she’s tired of him begging, she’ll gag him. When she’s tired of him seeing, she’ll blindfold him. When she’s exhausted from rubbing her cunt against his eager face, she’ll put him back in the Matrix with something slippery, sticky, hellish and curious to keep his hard, throbbing cock company.

And he won’t cum, not for a while. Not until she tells him he can…maybe at the same time as her, while she flutters around his thick base, or maybe while holding him close and slowly pumping him empty and watching every little line of accidental, precious drool that dribbles from the side of his lips.

Maybe it will be while she’s got his tip trapped in her warm, wet, suctioned mouth, and maybe she’ll stay there suckling long after he’s spent, and then maybe she’ll make him beg her not to let him ever do this again because it’s so sensitive, it’s too much—he just can’t take it.

And, of course, she’ll give him anything he wants. Anything he needs. Anything for him, the man who she loves.

[fayes-fics]

Driven to Distraction

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (sort of...), modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. An eventful ride home from a Christmas Eve party...

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, one use of derogatory language, arguing as foreplay, sort of a threesome... sort of.

Word Count: 2.5k

1k followers build-a-blurb prompt: Anthony 👅 Smut 😡 enemies to lovers 🥳 party 🚗 car/carriage sex Smutmas Kink: Day 3 - Voyeurism/Exhibitionism Smutmas Dialogue Prompt: "There's no way I'm letting you spend Christmas alone"

Authors Note: Well... I have no excuse for this. This is sort of fulfilling a 1k follower celebration Build a Blurb request and Day 3 of @hallownightsblog 12 Days of Smutmas. Thanks to @makaylan for beta reading this. Err, enjoy <3

Your sequin dress catches the light as your stride out of the opulent country house Christmas party. A fire of golden indignance.

“Don’t fucking follow me, Bridgerton,” you spit out over your shoulder.

“Don’t walk away from me; we are not done here,” Anthony shoots back, almost breaking into a jog to catch up with your pace as you charge out the main door.

You stalk onto the driveway, fold your arms and cock a hip, shooting daggers at him. You wish you had brought a coat with you tonight; it's freezing out now. But you don't want to admit to that chink in your proverbial armour, don’t want to give an inch in this stupid, petty argument. You know it's twisted, but nothing gives you more of an illicit thrill than sparring with this man.

An s-class Mercedes pulls up almost silently next to you as if summoned from thin air. It must be his, as he nods to the driver; that just seems to fuel your irritation.

“Get in the car,” he sighs.

“No.”

“Get in the bloody car, y/n,” he grouses. “How else are you going to get back to London?”

“I’ll order an Uber or call a cab,” you sniff.

“Out here in the sticks? On Christmas Eve? To go forty miles? Yeah, good luck with that,” he snarks.

He's right, and you hate it. You were supposed to go home in your friend's car, but she was last seen headed upstairs with her tongue down the host's throat. You doubt you’ll see her again until well after Boxing Day.

You narrow your eyes at him, then wordlessly wrench open the rear door to his fancy car, sliding into the seat with a sour expression and throwing aside your clutch bag. He opens the driver's door, which momentarily confuses you, exchanges a couple of words with the driver then huffs a hollow laugh as he climbs in on the other side of the backseat.

The car glides away almost silently, the gravel driveway crunching under the tyres the only audible noise. You stare out the window, posture stiff, fuming, refusing to look over at him, watching the blur of trees reflected in the headlights as you zip down a narrow country lane. The heated leather seat is doing wonders to warm your legs, but you don't want to give away any sense of contentment.

“Not going to talk to me?” he needles after a few tense minutes.

You don’t dignify a response.

“Fine,” he sighs, “at least tell me where you want dropping off.”

“My flat is fine,” you sniff.

“Who is there?”

“No one,” you frown.

“Nope, not dropping you there,” he grouses.

“Why not?” you cry indignantly.

“There's no way I'm letting you spend Christmas alone. You will come to Bridgerton House,” he states plainly.

“No, I won't,” you scoff. “Drop me home.”

“No. We can stop there to pick up a few things if you wish, but then we drive on to mine.”

This is why you hate this man in almost equal measure to your attraction to him. The way he expects the world to bend to his will. It makes you so angry you want to try and fuck the arrogance right out of him.

“You are not the boss of me!” you volley back.

“No, you’re right; if I were your boss, you’d actually have to fucking listen to me and do what I say,” he spits.

“Hah!” you laugh bitterly, “I’d never do what you told me. In fact, I’d always go the polar opposite.”

“Fine,” he retorts, “keep your fucking knickers on, then.”

“Excuse me?!?” You finally look over at him, and his chest is heaving.

“You heard me,” his eyes flash at you.

He has you stuck; in order to do the exact opposite of what he’s saying and win this petty argument, you’ll need to remove your knickers.

You are never one to back down in a fight. And you need to fuck him so bad your skin itches.

Pushing up slightly, you pull up your sequined minidress just enough to grab your underwear and slide it down your legs.

You say nothing but look at him defiantly. You see his pupils dilate and his chest heave as you do exactly what both of you want.

“Keep your legs shut,” he orders gruffly.

You have no choice. You open them, your jaw squared.

He sinks into the footwell in front of you, and your breath hitches. These huge, luxury cars always have acres of room in the back, and this one is no exception. Your seat must be almost three feet from the passenger one in front.

“Close them harder,” he growls up at you.

Your dress rides up around your hips as you splay your knees wide. His eyes drop to between your legs, and you suddenly feel a throb there as he licks his lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare kiss me,” he snarls, his fiery gaze back on your face.

He’s well and truly got you there.

With a raised eyebrow, you lean forward, grab both ends of his undone bowtie, and roughly pull him to you, your mouth slanting over his.

“No tongues,” he mumbles against your lips, and your mouth opens hot on his, tongues meeting and almost biting each with the intensity.

“Don’t you dare touch my pussy,” you whisper against his cheek, joining in the game, and his whole body flexes.

You gasp as he expertly brushes your clit. So turned on and electric hot.

“I suppose you’d hate it if I ate you out,” he murmurs hotly, his thumb swirling a teasing pattern that makes you want to bite him.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you breathe unevenly, settling back into the chair as he dips down and roughly tugs your hips forward, pushing your legs even wider.

Suddenly you remember you are not alone. There’s a driver, likely listening to everything the two of you are saying. You glance in the rearview mirror, and your breath catches. He is looking right at you, his eyes so intense.

That isn’t a chauffeur at all.

That is Anthony’s brother. Benedict.

Anthony’s tongue ploughs into you, and you cry out as his swirls wet and questing around your clit. He definitely knows what he is doing.

But you don’t look away from the mirror. In fact, you lick your bottom lip lasciviously, then bite down. By god, you want him to watch you. Be the voyeur as his brother makes you come; give him something to remember. There's a hint of blush high on his cheeks as he quickly looks back at the road—his sudden rash of bashfulness just makes you want this even more.

You fist Anthony's hair, and he growls against your inner thigh as you direct his movements, taking your pleasure as much as he is giving it. He tilts your pelvis and moves lower into your heated flesh, his nose nudging your clit as his mouth covers your pussy, gently pressing his tongue into your body just a fraction, your walls clinging to him; his invasion feels like so much and yet also not enough. You glance down as you breathe heavily, feeling a ghost of stubble on his cheek, chafing the sensitive skin around your labia.

As Anthony tongue fucks you steadily, your eyes drift back to the mirror, knowing Benedict is cataloguing every look on your face. He shifts slightly in his seat, and you hear a change in the revs as his foot slips for a second. The idea he is hard and wanting is a depth charge of lust. You moan loudly as much for him as the man expertly taking you somewhere pleasurable.

Anthony moves back to your clit, running increasingly narrow circles right over your sensitive nub. For what feels like ages, he is swirling, teasing, changing pressure and bearing down harder with every noise you make, his hand almost bruisingly wrapped around your thigh.

You writhe and pant, your gaze pinging between the delicious sight of chestnut hair buried between your legs beneath you and the wanton eyes of the driver in front. You silently mouth his name in the reflection, staring him down. You watch as his pupils dilate even more.

You fight the potent, heady urge to push yourself into Anthony’s face, not to let him even breathe unless it's into your body. You want him to drown in you. He growls as your manicured nails scrape heavy on his scalp, his mouth open wide, sucking your flesh, his tongue lapping flat and broad.

You pant as you realise Benedict has taken one hand off the wheel, and you guess by the angle of his elbow he is palming his erection.

“Yes, don't stop,” you murmur, your voice throaty and rasping. It's a double meaning for both of them, and you stare Benedict down in the mirror, nodding, goading him to touch himself, almost wishing you could watch. From this angle, all you can see is the motion of his arm, and somehow that makes it all the more appealing. That you have to imagine him, hard cock in hand, relying on the car’s technology to take over as his concentration slips.

Anthony’s panting breaths buzz against your clit as he furrows on, and you take to shamelessly grinding yourself on his face. He sucks your clit hard between his lips, then uses a little edge of his teeth to nip at the tip, and you kick out a leg against the window, the tink of your stiletto against the glass making Benedict swerve until the car course-corrects for him.

“Be careful,” Anthony gruffs, pulling away a fraction and grasping the leather seat next to you as leverage.

You smirk at Benedict in the mirror, shaking your head slightly, and he raises his eyebrows challengingly as if blaming you.

“Touch yourself,” you call softly, knowing they will both interpret it as a command for themselves, which is precisely what you want. You hear a trouser zip, and the heady thought that you have no idea who’s, just excites you beyond belief.

Anthony redoubles his efforts, making filthy sodden noises as he pulls your swollen bud hard into his mouth. Suddenly two fingers plunge inside you, hooking deep, and you can't help but cry out.

“Fuck yesssss,” you stutter, eyes rolling back and your whole body flexing.

You can feel an almost magnetic pull inside, the start of a fluttering in your channel, as he finds that spongy spot that makes you lose all sense and drags harshly against it with a come hither motion. You pant open-mouthed as the sensation makes every muscle in your body clamp down hard, tensing, every fibre of your being taut and shaking. You don't break your heated gaze with Benedict the whole time, seeing out of the corner of your eye the play of taut muscle rippling in his white dress shirt, knowing that he must have his cock in a vice-like grip.

You are extra vocal, knowing it is making Anthony preens with pride at his skills and giving Benedict fuel for his masturbatory movements.

“Don't you dare come all over my hand and face,” Anthony snarls, knowing he has you close to the edge now, twisting his head slightly to kiss the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your pelvis.

“I’d never give you the damn satisfaction,” you yap back breathily, eyes glinting in the flashes of overhead lamps as you enter the motorway.

Luckily, you clamp your thighs hard against Anthony’s ears just as Benedict growls, presumably at the idea that you will orgasm soon. Come with me, you mouth urgently to his reflection as he presses hard on the accelerator, the car zipping along now on the fast road back into town, everything outside the window a blur and the engine a soft purr in the background.

Just to tease everyone, including yourself, you spider a hand down inside your dress and pinch your nipple, shuddering and moaning as you do. It's for Benedict as much as Anthony—he can see it in the reflection. Anthony glances up at you just as you look down at him, his eyes blazing lustfully as his face shines with your juices.

“You are such a wanton little slut,” his voice is low and dangerous, and you instantly know that he knows. Knows what you have been doing with his little brother. And the slur you usually find so utterly insulting just rockets you higher when it drips from his decadent tongue.

“Don't you dare fucking call me that,” you hiss, but it’s undermined by the way you bite your lip almost to the point of drawing blood and writhe so lewdly in your seat, so desperate for that last bit of suction and friction to get you off.

“I'll call you what you are,” he menaces, then his mouth is back on you with more than an edge of teeth this time, and it's what pushes you over the precipice he has been dangling you over. You fight to keep your eyes open and on Benedict's face, his neck corded, and pulse hammering as your world narrows down to the rushing in your ears, the throb of your heartbeat in your chest and the burning pulsing ache around your clit.

“Fuck Bridgerton!!” you scream, and then you are convulsing, your eyes screwing shut as you bare down on Anthony’s face, knowing you are leaking all over him but not caring; you can feel him lapping hard at you, rousing filthy noises spilling from his throat as he drinks from your body. The sensation seems to last forever, notching across your skin, tensing and releasing in waves that you ride, undulating against his jaw, grabbing his hair in tufts until he growls harshly. As you float away, breathing heavily, his body jerks against you as you realise he has just made himself come too.

The car smells of sinful sex as you slowly come back into your mind. The realisation of what you have done hits you as Anthony slides back into the seat next to you, refastening his fly. You steal a glance in the rear-view mirror, but Benedict's eyes are on the road, steadfastly refusing to meet yours, and you sense he has the same mutual feelings of guilt you do.

“If you want to fuck my brother too,” Anthony drawls, running a hand through his hair, “all you have to do is ask.”

You blush deeply and look down, ashamed, picking at the edges of your manicure.

“No answer is an answer, y/n,” he chuckles darkly.

You just bite your lip and pull down your dress as far as it will go.

“You shouldn't feel ashamed,” Anthony intuits, “part of the reason I like you so fucking much is your wild side. I have no problem with it,” he adds casually. He leans in; his voice is velvety as he utters the last devasting line. “Especially if you let me watch.”

Benedict almost crashes the car at that.

After a brief stop at your place, it’s on to Bridgerton House for quite the most spirited, adventurous Christmas break you have ever had.

Anthony & Benedict taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @queenofmean14 (if you want to be added to my taglist drop me a message)

[spiralnaissance]

Masquerade

Mr.Keegan x Reader [Bullet to the Head](2012)

Summary: Keegan fucks you in the bathroom Baptiste’s costume party. canon compliant (somewhat). 

Warnings: Not beta-read, semi-public? , p in v sex (unprotected) teasing, slut as pet name (once), rough sex, creampie 

A/N: This is a fic for a movie barely anyone cares about so bare with me for being super self-indulgent LOL

---

The living room of Baptiste’s ivory mansion pulsed with a cacophony of noises, as drunk guests bustled about engaging in vacuous and meaningless conversations. The smooth jazz and the sounds of chattering muffled as Keegan has you pushed against the walls of the sage green bathroom, large hands on your bare middle as he burrowed his fat cock into you. 

Baptiste had arranged for this opulent gathering as a flaunt of his personal wealth to his peers of the underworld; much like a peacock spreading its magnificent feathers to gather attention for a mate.

You aren’t particularly close to Baptiste, or Morel, in fact. You are just one of the many brokers on Morel’s payroll who scurries around the country to run errands and deliver parcels for generous pay. What initially began as a side hustle to pay for your education years ago eventually bloomed into a full-time job that you have no way of getting out of. Though attendance wasn’t mandatory, you reckoned it would be courtesy as an associate to respond to the invite nevertheless. In reality, you feared what would happen if you decided to be a no-show; Morel certainly isn’t known for his compassion towards those he is suspicious of. 

The bathroom is silent--save for the low humming of the ventilation, a tranquil haven from the otherwise hedonistic chaos outside. Keegan wastes no time manhandling you; arm hooked and curled around your waist as his other toys and teases your clit. You suck in air through your gritted teeth, and huffed-- he takes you from behind with a feverish, brutal pace-- frustration and irritation apparent in his haste movements. 

He’s absolutely pissed off at you, for being such a enticing distraction when he has a job to do-- to make sure no uninvited guests loiter around. The way you were making eyes at him from across the room, face partially concealed by the white and ornate Colombina you bear upon. He has the audacity to be crossed with your shameless behaviour, as he maneuvers his way across the restless crowds towards you. When he reaches you, you playfully desist his advances, in which he had enough decency and respect to begin to leave you alone-- until he looked down at your covered face and sees you giving him that damned teasing look. 

He brings his face closer to you, the cheap plastic of the mask rubs against the side of your head and your cheeks as he goads you. 

“Fuck,” Keegan murmured, face so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath against your own. “So good for me, aren’t you? So nice and wet and tight--” he groaned as he bit his own lips as an attempt to shut himself up, abandoning his obscene comments as the pleasure of your sweet cunt wash over him like sunshine after a storm. 

He despises the fact that he is enjoying this lewd display of flagrant lust; sounds of lewd, wet squelches and the rhythmic slaps of his balls against your ass amplified by the silence and echoes of the bathroom.

He has your silver cocktail dress bunched up on the back, his proximity to your back held the bunch in place. “K---Keegan--” you gasped, breath quickening as he continued to use and take whatever he needed from you. He hummed lowly in acknowledgement, the guttural sounds coming from his throat spluttering with his fitful breathing.

“It’s no good,” you spurred through breathless moans, dripping cunt clenching around his cock, “You can do better than this sloppy-ass job, Keegan,” you murmured, urging him on. “C’mon, harder,” your lips twisted into a self-satisfied smile, as you sense him grit his teeth in further exasperation. 

“Fuck,” he spits venom at you, “Aren’t you such a fuckin’ slut? Taking me right here where anyone else who needs a quick piss can see you take my cock like an animal in heat.” Yet despite his less-than-graceful comments, he obeyed your whiny pleas, cock dragging along the wet walls of your cunt, and slamming back into you with unforgiving pace. Keegan bottoms out, his cock fills you up snuggly, and the pleasure he offers you have your eyelids fluttering and your legs shaking.

The passion in him that detested you for diverting him shifted to one of pure primal need, his lips attacking any bare surface he could find on your skin, marking you all over places where he knew everyone would see. Keegan knows, for certain, that when he passes, he will be condemned to hell for the blood that stained his very hands, yet in this current moment, he allows himself to believe he's in heaven. 

His well-tailored suit, once sat nicely on his broad frame, is now drenched in sweat from his persistent pounding. You feel your lower stomach twist itself into blissful knots, signifying a euphoric release. “I-I’m gonna,” you whined, moaning wantonly as you felt your brain melt into jelly as you chased your orgasm. Keegan shifts one of his hands over to your lower abdomen, holding you up while he chuckles.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” He cooed, breathless and panting as he rolls his hips against you in spurs and uneven rhythm, signifying his own release. “I know you need to cum, baby, do it with me.” He pushes you further onto the wall-- as far and as close to you as he can get, as he grinds harshly against you. 

“Y-Yes--” your eyes rolled back, voice wavering, as Keegan fucks into you with shallow, rough thrusts while he pants and groans and growls. You feel your orgasm swell, as you milk Keegan’s cock for all he got-- every drop of his thick cum as he continues to pound into you with shorter and sporadic timing. 

He shifted positions again, removing his hand from your stomach and the wall as he steadied himself, making sure not to slip out of your spent cunt when he didn’t want to. He bunches up your creased dress further up and watches perversely as his softening cock slips out of you with his semen dripping slowly out of you. “Good girl,” he muttered, “You take me so well; your cunt is made just me, sweetheart.”

The embarrassment you once lacked suddenly fills your very being, and blood rushes to your face as you try to get your thoughts back together. Seeing this, Keegan chuckled darkly, as he pulled your panties back up--without cleaning you up, letting you wallow in the fullness of his cum inside of your pussy. 

“W-We should probably go,” you uttered, voice weaker and much more coarse than you’d like, as he took your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles, and you felt his stubble graze your soft skin. Soon, he ushers you out of the bathroom with one hand around your hips. 

As the night slowly went on, you eventually parted ways with him, along with a hopeful promise of another meeting.

Keegam stood in a corner, gathering his thoughts, while he pulled something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. His cellphone. About fifteen different miscalls from various associates of Morel, and another one from Morel himself. A notification for a text popped up as he began to scroll through his ‘recent calls’ list, and when he checked the text, it was a surveillance camera footage of an unconscious Baptiste being carried off by two other men.

Oops.