#i feel like i have a lot of silent followers

[llamagoddessofficial]

hello llama

i have been thinking and headcanoning about vampire bad sanses lately, so i was curious if you have any thoughts about or interest in vampires of the nightmare and crew variety? (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

"do i have interest in vampires", he asks

ok, i will share my extensive vampire brainrot. but in return..... you have to write that vampire fic.... oooOOooO look into my eyes you know you want to write it ooOoOooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

I very much like the idea of Nightmare's castle being Castlevania-style. Lots of spooky architecture, lots of ancient magical passages that haven't been seen in centuries.

Horror can be summed up in one word. Bloodlust. There's a constant hunger inside him he can't ever seem to fill, driving him almost to the point of madness. He is more beast than man. When he smells or tastes blood, he loses control of himself, becoming little more than a starving wild animal - his capability for slaughter is limited only by his appetite. So unless Nightmare requires it, he generally abstains from blood. He doesn't like losing himself so entirely.

Something about you makes him forget his hunger. Is it your voice? Your scent? He has no idea, but oh, it feels good to feel whole. When you're around it's as if he'll never be hungry again... he follows you like a dog, grinning intensely every time you look at him. This is one hound that can't be shaken.

Despite his 'condition', he finds a lot of solace in cooking. Nothing will give him the same drug-like rush as blood but human food is nonetheless warm and filling and distracts him momentarily from the emptiness. He enjoys the process of making it, too, doing something with his hands. Let him cook for you, please? Watching you eat brings him vicarious joy.

Dust's backstory is one of legend. Something resembling a story can be spun from the loose whispers. A vampire invaded his peaceful isolated village hundreds of years ago, intending to turn the helpless populace into enslaved vampires. Dust, the first to be bitten, turned and slaughtered them all himself - and despite being a vampire for barely a week, the equivalent of a stumbling newborn, he killed the centuries-old invading vampire in single combat.

No one's quite sure why he's joined Nightmare. Perhaps Nightmare was keen to take this uniquely violent creature under his wing, and Dust just didn't really care where the wind took him. Or perhaps he has some other motive, hidden beneath that silent face. Who knows.

... Dust might be quiet, but it's obvious he's fixated on you. Which is a big deal. This is a creature who hasn't mustered a second thought for anything but blood for decades; but somehow, you've excited him. He's very clearly interested in you, silently watching your every move, listening intently to every word you say. Too bad he's not much for conversation.

Killer's backstory, on the other hand, is shrouded entirely in mystery. No one knows where he came from, who he is, or what he's done. He simply appeared one day - right within the coveted inner circle of Nightmare himself. He's the Night King's most trusted weapon, and the closest thing he has to a friend.

Killer seems very clear about what he wants. He thinks you're adorable, and he says you'd make such a pretty vampire. He talks (at length) about how much he wants to bite you, and how if it were up to him you'd already be one of them. A lot of his flirting involves calling you things like sweet treat and honeyblood. However... despite all the taunting, all the talk of seeing you as food, Killer is the one in the castle who treats you with the most respect. The others seem to see you as an object, a cute toy, something to squish and own. Killer talks to you like you're a real person. You can't help but like him for it.

Nightmare's inferiority complex has driven him to declare himself the king of the vampires. No one contests - Nightmare is royalty by blood, and vampires place a lot of emphasis on blood. But even if he wasn't, Nightmare frequently murders those who won't bend the knee. Plenty of powerful vampires have fallen embarrassingly fast at his hand.

... Nightmare's goal is to make you agree to be his spouse. A pretty little human partner would be excellent for his image. It would not only demonstrate his incredible self control as such an ancient vampire (not to mention his control over his warriors), but it would also show that his power is so great he doesn't need to strike a political marriage with another powerful vampire. It might also convince some of the pesky rebellious human groups to settle down.

His pride means that he won't force you. Not yet, at least. He likes to think he can seduce you. He's a royal vampire, after all, and you're just a simple human - isn't it only a matter of time?

... But it seems like, as time goes on... he's the one falling.

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Patching them up after a fight

꒰ ͜͡➸ You patch them up after a fight and put silly bandaids on their wounds just because you can

❖ Characters: Shinichiro, Benkei, Takeomi, Wakasa

❖ Reader: genderneutral

❖ WARNINGS: Mentions of physical fights, wounds and blood, a little suggestive at Takeomi

❖ A/n: I miss writing for TR so much so have this hehe

☰ Shinichiro:

ꕤ Shinichiro comes home a lot of times with random cuts and bruises. Not all of them are from fights, most of them happen while working with the bikes.

ꕤ But the nights he does comes home all bruised and battered, he wants nothing more than to crawl into your arms.

ꕤ He insists that he can take care of his own wounds but he wants you close before and after.

ꕤ He's a man but wounds hurt and he's not afraid to show his pain or even to cry, not caring about if it's considered “unmanly” or whatever.

ꕤ Shin adores you even more when you get the first aid kit out and insist on patching him up despite his initial protests.

ꕤ He feels so bad when you take care of him like that because him getting into fights and ending up as a punching bag should never be your problem.

ꕤ You of course don't mind it, gently dabbing the cotton swab over the cuts to clean them out and Shin doesn't even wince when it burns.

ꕤ His eyes are trained on your face, smiling softly when your brows furrow from concentration or when you pout at a specially nasty wound.

ꕤ Quiet “thank you’s” are mumbled by him when you start applying ointment before looking for band aids and start to snicker to yourself.

ꕤ “Looks like you only have the ones for your siblings left,” you say amused and present him the little dinosaur and pink star bandaids which makes him laugh.

ꕤ “I use these more than they do. Keep forgetting to buy new ones,” he explains amused and picks the green dinosaur ones.

ꕤ Gently you apply them to the few wounds that need a bandaid, a pink star one right on his cheek because you insisted on it.

ꕤ Shinichiro can't help but smile when he looks himself over. It shouldn't be so funny but you somehow took away the pain and tiny dinosaurs litter his skin as you make sure to kiss each and every bruise.

☰ Benkei:

ꕤ Benkei rarely ever needed you to patch him up, usually he would do so before he comes back home and you can only see his knuckles bandaged - the skin probably broke from throwing one too many punches.

ꕤ But this time he came home with a cut right on his nose, his face black and blue along with his almost signature look of busted knuckles.

ꕤ “Benks… let me help you,” you mumble and practically drag him to the bathroom where you force him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

ꕤ Benkei remained silent, far too tired to protest your tender hands and silently he thanked you for not even asking about any of it.

ꕤ Without further questions you kneeled down and started cleaning his knuckles, a hiss escaping him from the sting but the moment you kissed the back of his hand it was all better.

ꕤ While you wrapped bandages around his big hands he started apologizing to you for causing you trouble but you scolded him for thinking that this is trouble.

ꕤ Once his hands were taken care of you raised to stand between his legs, a frown on your lips when you saw his busted nose.

ꕤ “You know what I told you about cuts on your face,” you started and he only chuckled, knowing you get the hello kitty bandaids out now in hopes he will be more careful next time.

ꕤ His friends tease him to no end about it, but he doesn't mind. He thinks it's cute that you care enough about him to even do this.

ꕤ A bright pink bandaid rested on the bridge of his nose now and you couldn't help the laugh escaping your throat but he followed right behind.

ꕤ “That should be my new daily look, don't you think? I look so dangerous now,” he joked around and pulled you closer for a kiss.

☰ Takeomi:

ꕤ Takeomi never came home when he was vulnerable, not wanting to seem weak around you.

ꕤ But he seemed to have forgotten about the punch he got into his face hours back that left his forehead split open, dried blood staining his forehead and cheek.

ꕤ When he came home you immediately crowded him, not used to seeing your lover like this and cupped his face.

ꕤ “Calm down I'm not dying,” he grumbled and held onto your wrists to remove your hands from his face but you jerked your hands out of his grasp.

ꕤ “Perhaps you're not dying but let me at least clean this up,” you insist and he follows you into the bathroom to sit down on the closed toilet seat.

ꕤ “Only so I won't ruin the sheets with blood,” he lied with a straight face, craving your gentle touch, wanting to be taken care of

ꕤ Ever so gently you cleaned his wound for him, standing between his legs since he always sat with his legs wide open.

ꕤ His hands rested on your butt as you cleaned his wound, a dirty smirk on his lips “I need to. It hurts sooooo bad,” he mused, giving the globes of your ass a squeeze.

ꕤ You knew he was playing around by the way the smirk danced over his lips but you let him, planning your own revenge.

ꕤ Once the wound was cleaned up and the ointment put on you got out the most childish bandaids you could find, little green stripes with glittering duckies.

ꕤ Takeomi didn't even see the bandaid until he looked at your handiwork in the mirror “you're so gonna pay for that, brat,” he chuckled and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom.

☰ Wakasa:

ꕤ Waka rarely ever came home with wounds that needed tending, some bruises at most, if he's been training with Benkei a lot that day.

ꕤ But the few times he did, he didn't bother tending to them, insisting that cuts will heal on their own and bruises fade in a few days.

ꕤ Whenever you caught him with wounds he knew he was done for, protesting against your soft treatment so you learned how to drag him to the bathroom by force.

ꕤ “I'm not some kid. Let me at least do this myself,” he protested and ripped his arm from your grip but you gave him a stern look.

ꕤ “Even Senju acts more mature. Stop acting up,” you fired back, hating how he neglected himself from time to time. He has a big ego but that won't heal wounds.

ꕤ In the end it's a fight of who’s more stubborn and usually you win by either insisting until he gives up or by handing him his fave beer which he drinks grumpy while you tend to him.

ꕤ “You need to be more careful next time,” you scold him as you dab a cotton swab drenched in alcohol over his wounds.

ꕤ There is absolutely no reaction in his face but the way his muscles tense tell you that he's in pain and you frown, not wanting to hurt him.

ꕤ Once you were done, you got the last few bandaids out, one butterfly clip for a deeper cut so it will stay together and cute band aids with pawprints.

ꕤ Waka jerked back upon seeing the rainbow colored band aids “that one, yes,” he points to the butterfly clip and gives the colorful paw print ones a dirty look “and those... don't you dare come near me with them,” he growled out.

ꕤ You had to stifle a laugh at his reaction and opened a light blue one after using the butterfly clip on the big cut, forcing it into his skin while trying to be as gentle as possible. “Just this one... the rest can stay open if you don't put on a shirt,” you cooed and smiled at the light blue pawprints covering a cut.

ꕤ Wakasa glared at you for a moment but knew protest was futile. “At least give my shoulders a massage to make up for this shit,” he mumbled and pointed to the cute band aid decorating his chest.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

[velvetchrry]

━━━━ PRETTY LITTLE BIRDS (2)

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

2k. you play darts.

You can feel a warmth in your cheeks as you follow closely behind Simon. He parts the crowd easily, and you notice multiple pairs of eyes on you as you walk by. You do a small smile and wave to the table of your coworkers, most of them looking at you bug eyed. The girl who approached him earlier has her jaw on the floor. Hopefully she doesn’t take it personally.

He stops when he approaches the table he was sitting at earlier. “This is Johnny, Gaz and Price.” You smile at them and give a soft hello. Simon tells them your first name, and you assume he knew it from your badge the other day.

“Aye, Doc!” Johnny exclaims. His energy is contagious and you can’t help but return his smile.

“Nice to see you again, how’s the knee holding up?”

“Ach, fine. No issue,” he swats his hand, as if to swat your concern away.

“I’m not actually a doctor, y’know,” you add softly.

He shrugs his shoulders and Simon pulls out a chair for you to sit on, thanking him as you do. He silently walks the short distance to the dartboards and starts talking to a group of guys standing there.

“So, LT invite ye to our dart game?” Johnny asks, pulling your attention from Simon’s broad back.

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose on you guys…”

“Nonsense,” Johnny cuts you off, again waving his hand in the air. “Cap’s leavin’ anyway, so we could use a fourth.”

Simon walks back over to the table and places his hand on the back of your chair. You almost shiver as his fingers make contact with your back, knuckles brushing the fabric of your shirt. “Board’s ours.”

Johnny gets up and claps his hands together. “Let’s do this. Gaz, on me. Doc with Simon.”

Simon offers a hand to you and you use it to help yourself stand up. Price stands up, downs the rest of his whiskey and bids everyone a goodnight. The four of you do the same. “Don’t have too much fun you lot,” he calls out behind him as he walks toward the door.

The ghost of Simon’s fingers trail on your lower back as the group makes its way to the dartboards. The guys Simon talked to earlier clear out when they see your companions and Simon nods at them in return. Johnny pulls the darts out of the board as a waitress stops by to grab your drink order.

“Round a Jamo shots,” Gaz says to the waitress. Johnny laughs as he walks back to the table — darts in hand — noticing that you pulled a face. “Not a fan, bonnie?”

“Erm, not entirely… what about a compromise? Picklebacks?!” you suggest.

“Dinnae know what that is,” he admits. Gaz shakes his head. Simon stays behind you, silent. Observing.

“Shot of Jameson, followed by a chaser of pickle juice.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to pull a face. “Alright lass, if that's what ya want.” He nods to the waitress and she makes her way back to the bar. Johnny and Gaz argue over which game to play while you and Simon settle up to the high top. It’s chairless, like the rest of the high tops at the bar. Simon’s broad leg brushes against yours.

“So, how long you been working on base for?”

“Not long,” you admit. “A few months now.”

“Mmm. What convinced ya to join up?”

“My grandpa actually. He was medic and I would beg him to tell me his stories growing up… when I finished P.A. school, this job kind of fell into my lap and well… I took it as a sign.”

Johnny dumped the red set of darts in front of you and Simon when he walked back to the table. Gaz was firmly clutching the blue set in his hands. Right on cue, the waitress brings by four shots of Jameson and another four shot glasses full of pickle juice on a serving tray and places each in front of everyone. You bite your lower lip and try to look at Simon from your periphery. Is he gonna take off the mask?

“Cheers,” Gaz holds up his Jameson shot and Johnny follows. You join in, Jameson in one hand and pickle juice in the other. Simon lifts his large hand, the shot of Jameson engulfed in it, and you all clink glasses. Simon's hand brushes up against you, and you feel a spark run through your fingertips down to your toes. You visibly shiver from the minimal contact. What am I? A nun?!

You tap the bottom of your Jameson shot on the table before taking both the Jameson and then the pickle juice back in one breath hold. Johnny hoots in approval before him and Gaz take both shots right after. “Good call bonnie, kills the burn right off.”

When Simon lifts the bottom of his mask up from his chin and takes both shots, you swear you really must be a nun with how little of his face showing suddenly soaks your panties through. You see the strong outline of his jaw, and a very old, muted scar that runs slanted down his chin. A smattering of blonde 5 o’clock shadow is the last thing you notice before he pulls his mask back down. You quickly look away before someone can notice you drooling.

“Gaz, you’re up,” Johnny announces.

•·················•·················•

You have a tell when you’re about to shoot. You do this little side to side sway with you hips that Simon can’t help but watch. The soft noises you make after each throw that have him wondering if he can provoke those same sounds from you in bed.

He noticed you studying him with the mask pulled up from under his chin, your shiver as he brushed his hand against yours. Touch starved little bird.

He imagines what he could make you do with the promise of seeing all of him. Wonders if you would let him mark you as his, teeth meeting soft pillowy flesh.

He isn’t sure why you haven't asked about the mask yet. He’s never met a woman interested in him who hasn’t. He’s sure you’re curious — and it’s clear you were trying to get a peek of him earlier from the corner of your eye — but here you are, respecting that it’s just a part of him. That alone serves to make him a little hard.

Simon holds his breath when you stand too close to him. Your perfume threatens to send him over the edge, a soft floral and citrusy scent that has his muscles tightening.

You’re shit at darts. Absolutely horrible — although you do get a few lucky shots in every once in a while. He wants to teach you — the rough pads of his fingers caressing your silky smooth center while he breathes in your ear how to shoot. He wants you dripping down his fingers as you aim the dart, wiggling your hips just slightly before you throw it, him slipping two fingers inside of you and…

“It's your turn, Simon!” you exclaim, slight buzz coloring your cheeks as you hand the darts to him.

Fuck. He’s got a massive hard on right now. No way he can come out from behind the table.

“You take my turn for me, dove.”

“Wha.. really?! But… you’re the only reason we have a shot at winning.”

It’s true, Simon hasn’t missed a single shot all night. Not that Gaz and Soap aren't sharpshooters, but their talent has an inverse relationship with the amount of booze they consume, and right now the two of them combined are about neck and neck with the two of you.

“Absolutely. You got this.”

His praise warms your cheeks even further. He’s happy you haven’t drank much, unlike Gaz and Johnny. You’re still aware, cognizant. He doesn’t want to lose you to a drunken stupor, even though he’d be happy to hold your hair and then punish you for it in the morning with a few good spanks.

After a few lucky shots from you, he hears Gaz and Johnny moan something about hustling the two of them. Johnny pats you on the shoulder as you pass him and head straight for the table with Simon.

“Good work little dove.”

You beam, but blow it off by shrugging your shoulders before bumping one against his arm. “I have a good partner.”

Johnny and Gaz come up to the table. “Who’s up for ‘nother round? Ay, what were those shots we took earlier Doc?” Gaz asks.

Simon watches you closely as you put your small hands up and wave them around in front of your face. “Oh… no more shots for me, thank you.”

Gaz and Johnny both groan but Simon cuts them a look that has them backing off. “We’re gonna grab a quick one at the bar then, be right back,” Johnny says, practically pulling Gaz with him.

“Alright?” Simon asks you once they've left.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. This is… fun. I haven’t had much lately.”

Simon’s fingertips trace the wood grain of the table. “Why not?”

You shrug. “Self inflicted, really. Once I moved here, I didn’t know anyone and I didn’t exactly force myself to go out. Plus, I went on one really terrible date the first week I was here. After that, I figured I would just take the time to get my bearings first.”

Simon chuckles a little. “How terrible?”

You sigh slightly. “Well… to be honest… he was dreadfully boring and self absorbed. Some guy who works in… finance?” You waved one of your hands around. “He only talked about himself and how good he was at his job, then when we were about to leave he asked if he could ‘pencil me in’,” you make air quotations with your fingers “for a lunch date back on base. I lied and told him lunches are too hard for me to get away and have been avoiding him ever since.”

“Wait, he works on base? A suit?”

You shrug your shoulders, not knowing his terminology. “Lucky for me, we must not work near each other, otherwise he’d see I take most of my lunches outside under the trees by the track.”

You couldn’t know this, but Simon makes a mental checklist in his head to not only see if he can figure out who this suit is, but to scope the trees near the running track on Monday. He can’t have his little bird in harm’s way. He can only imagine which soldier’s eyes you’ve caught while sitting and enjoying your lunch. That track gets a fair amount of use considering there are more people stationed on base than there is room in the gym, and spring has just rolled around.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon mutters under his breath. You whip your head in his direction in time to see Johnny trying to stand on the bar, shirtless, and to the dismay of the bartenders. Gaz is cheering him on. Simon spins off the table and walks to the bar with swift intent. He barks something you can't hear at Johnny, who’s color drains from his face and gets down from the bartop. Simon flicks him on the nose and you can hear Johnny yelp. Gaz looks terrified in the corner. He drags both of them by the ear back to the high top.

“Should get these two idiots home. Let me give you a ride to your flat.”

You shake your head. “That’s okay, thank you though.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to shake his head. “Look, your friends are gone. Let me give you a ride home so I know you make it safe.”

“Please hen, maybe he’ll take it easy on us if ye ride wit!” Johnny pleads and his brow scrunches more after he speaks, Simon pinching down harder on his ear.

Simon hears your hearty laugh before you turn around and notice that indeed your coworkers have all left for the evening. “Almost bar close, anway,” Simon adds.

You bite that damn lip again and look around for a second before speaking. “Well if you’re sure…”

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

To Love You

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader

Word Count | 16,1k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.

⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️

ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!

Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth

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"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."

A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.

Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.

"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."

The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.

"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.

To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.

"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.

You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.

You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.

"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.

You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.

"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?

And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.

You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.

"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.

After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.

After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.

He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.

Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."

You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."

The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.

"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.

With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.

Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.

Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.

Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.

The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.

You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.

There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.

It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.

Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.

You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.

You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.

You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.

You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.

"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.

His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.

"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.

"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.

"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.

It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.

"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.

"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."

He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.

"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.

Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.

"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."

He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.

"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."

Before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."

You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.

"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.

You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.

"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.

They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.

"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.

"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.

"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.

It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.

"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"

"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."

"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.

"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.

"She is a princess, that is her duty."

He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.

He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.

Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.

The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.

Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.

"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.

"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.

"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.

She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.

When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.

"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.

"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.

He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.

"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.

"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."

The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.

"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."

You grit your teeth.

His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?

This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.

"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible...  "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.

In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.

"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.

Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.

"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"

Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.

"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.

He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.

"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"

"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.

As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.

You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.

They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.

You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.

"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.

"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.

They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.

"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.

"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.

"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.

"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.

A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.

You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.

"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.

"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"

Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.

"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.

"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.

"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."

"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.

"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.

Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."

Jimin grins slightly and nods.

"She is."

You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.

You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.

‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.

Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.

You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.

You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.

Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.

"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.

"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.

You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.

He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?

It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.

This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.

"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.

With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.

You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.

You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.

You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.

To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.

"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"

"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.

"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.

He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.

He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.

Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.

Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.

"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.

Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.

"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.

The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.

When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.

The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.

The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.

"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.

"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.

"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."

A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."

"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.

Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.

You are there.

You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.

"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.

With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.

Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.

Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.

You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.

You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.

You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.

You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.

"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."

You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.

"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.

"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.

You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.

Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.

"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.

"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.

"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.

As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.

"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.

Then everything falls silent.

You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.

He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.

"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.

You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.

"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.

What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.

"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.

Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.

"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.

"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.

"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.

Orobel.

With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.

"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.

You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."

Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.

You really wish it were that way.

Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.

You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.

Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.

Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.

Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.

Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.

Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.

He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.

You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.

You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.

"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.

You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.

"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."

"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.

"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.

Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.

When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.

Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.

You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.

As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.

You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.

"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.

A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.

"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.

You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.

"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.

"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.

"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.

"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."

"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.

"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."

You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.

He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.

His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.

You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.

"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.

The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.

His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.

"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.

You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.

"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.

You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.

It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.

"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.

You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.

"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.

He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.

You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.

"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.

This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.

He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.

"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.

"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.

"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.

You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.

You are worse than a circle of hell for him.

When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.

"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.

"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.

"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"

This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."

"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.

"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.

"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."

"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.

"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.

‘She's a woman like any other.’

No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.

Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.

He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.

He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.

Yes, you are still his lovely princess.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."

You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.

"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.

Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.

"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.

He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."

"The most important thing?"

"Yes, you."

You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.

"You're saying that..."

"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."

His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.

In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.

You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.

"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.

"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.

But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.

"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.

He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.

"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.

You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.

Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.

A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.

"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it,  considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.

"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.

"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.

The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.

You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.

"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.

The man nods.

"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."

You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.

"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.

You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.

"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.

With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.

"Runes?"

"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.

"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.

"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.

In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.

"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.

He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.

"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.

"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.

"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.

He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.

"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.

You don't think about it for a single moment.

"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."

Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.

He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.

You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.

When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?

"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....

"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."

"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."

You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.

"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.

"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"

You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.

Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.

He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?

He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.

You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.

"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.

You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.

You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.

"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.

Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.

A princess does not do such things as a street woman.

Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.

"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.

You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.

Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.

"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.

"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.

He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.

"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.

"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.

"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.

"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.

"Ours."

He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.

"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.

It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.

Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.

Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.

The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...

Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.

In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.

You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.

"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.

You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.

Making love with Jimin.

Yes.

Carrying his child.

Yes.

Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.

Yes.

You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.

Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.

You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.

"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.

"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.

"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."

But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.

"We will be fine now," you nod.

"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.

"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.

It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.

You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[samandcolbyownme]

Prompt: someone takes reader to the airport, but only to have their car break down on the way.

Warnings: swearing, angsty? Fluffy, kissing, confessions of love, suggestive language

Enjoy!

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The look on Matt’s face when you told the triplets you accepted the job in London, absolutely devistated you.

You knew you needed to go, you also knew that the feelings you once had for him haven’t gone away either.

The decision to break up and stay friends, was mutual, but you both know, that to this day, it was still the worst decision you both ever agreed on.

The days leading up to your flight were heartbreaking as you spent time with your few close friends and of course, the three boys you grew up with.

Each time you left, Matt went to his room before you were out the door. You spent nights out in your car talking to Nick about everything, and he agrees that you should go, it’ll be best for everyone.

One thing Nick said to you one of the nights was as follows, "The Universe sends us exactly what we are ready for at the exact time we need it in our lives.”

It stuck with you since, but you felt like you were overthinking it, at times, like when Matt didn’t go straight to his room the night before you were set to leave.

Or when you got that phone call from your friend saying she couldn’t take you to the airport, family emergency so you let it slide.

You were in a panic. Every one you called was already booked and busy.

Expect one.

You let out a sigh as you tap on Matt’s name, your heart racing as you hear the first ring.

“Hello.”

“Matt?” You ask, not even bothering to hide your nervousness that shakes within your words, “Sorry it’s.. so late..”

“Don’t be. What’s going on?” He asks, voice slightly raspy. It was clear that you had woken him up, “Um, I was just..” you pause before letting out a sigh, “Nevermind. I’m sorry for wa-“

“No.” He raises his voice slightly and sighs, “I-I mean, No. you don’t have to go, y/n. What’s going on? A-Are you in trouble?”

“No I- well. Actually, yeah.. kind of.” You give in, “I need a ride to the airport tomorrow night.”

The line is silent for a few seconds before Matt answers, “It’ll be just me if that’s okay. Chris and nick are going to a party.”

“If you’ll need to pi-“

“Y/n.” Matt cuts you off, his voice lower, almost a whisper, “Please let me do this.”

You close your eyes, taking in a quiet breath, “Okay.”

——

When you opened your front door, Matt was standing there with a, clearly forced, smile, “Hi.”

You press your lips together and give him a small smile as you wheel your two suitcases out of the door. You sling your carry on over your shoulder and by the time you look back, Matt is already walking to the car with your cases.

You were dreading this.

A lot could happen in the hour from your house to the air port.

“Which airport?” He asks as he grabs his phone to pull up the maps. You lick your lips, “Um, it’s LAX.” He nods, tapping his phone before setting it down.

The first twenty minutes of the drive was silent, nothing but the other cars passing and the music playing on the radio filled the tension filled silence.

“So did you just ask me because you didn’t have anyone else?”

His question, the way he asked it, sounded awful of you. You look over at him, “I didn’t want to have to ask you.”

“Why?” He glances over at you and you look away, “I just.. with how you acted when and ever since I told you about London...” You look over at him, he’s looking away, “Matt, the way your face sank..“ you lower your voice, “It broke my heart.”

“Being told you’re losing someone you don’t want to lose and not being able to do anything to stop it is also enough to break someone’s heart.”

You close your eyes, the burn from the tears welling in them cause you to tense up for a second but both of your attention is taken away to the car when it starts to sputter and you both jolt forward.

“What the fuck?” Matt curses as he veers off the road. He puts his four ways on and you look in the mirror and over at him, “What the hell happened?”

He shrugs, turning the car off and trying to start again but the engine just clicks and then it goes silent.

He does look at you, “Are you okay?”

You glance over at him, frowning when you see that he isn’t looking your way, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just-“ you look at the time, “I have to be at my gate in twenty five minutes.”

“Okay, okay.” Matt grabs his phone, “Can you call Nick and tell him that I’ll be late to get them?”

You nod, calling Nick while he figures out the car.

“Miss me already?” Nick asks as he answers. You roll your eyes, laughing slightly, “I mean yeah, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Um okay?”

“Matt’s car broke down, we’re like I don’t know..” you glance over at Matt who has his phone pressed to his ear, “Like twenty ish minutes away.”

“Y/n, your plane takes off in twenty ish minutes.” Nick mocks you, “Is Matt calling someone? I don’t-“

You hear Nick fill chris in and Matt starts speaking, “Yeah, I’m about twenty minutes away from the LAX Airport..” he hums, pulling the phone away from his ear as he tells them what street you’re on.

“Okay. Thank you. Mhm.” He hands up and tosses his phone into the cupholder. You turn your attention back to Nick, “Hold on.”

“They said they can get someone out here to look at it as soon as they can. She said it could be up to an hour.”

All you hear is Nick say, “The universe, babe. It’s on your side.” Then the three beeps.

You pull your phone away from your ear and stare down at your lap.

“What did Nick say?”

Matt’s voice snaps you out of your daze, “Oh, um. They said that.. they’ll find a way home.” You look over at him, “Do you.. I don’t know.. ever have moments, where you’re like.. wow the universe actually loves me?”

You look over at him, laughing anxiously. Matt gives you a confused look, “What are you saying?”

You turn towards him, glancing back at your bags in the back seat, “I’m saying.. maybe Nick was right.”

“About?” He raises his brows and you look back up at him, “A few nights ago, Nick told me something.” You laugh slightly, “He said something about how the universe will send us what we are ready for right when we need it most and-“

Matt leans over, cutting your words short with his lips on yours. His hands slide to your cheeks, holding your face gently as he deepens the kiss before pulling his lips away from yours, “You’re right where you’re meant to be.”

You give him a slight nod as your hand comes up to lay on his, eyes looking between his and his lips, “With you.”

He smirks, a smile forming as he grips your chin, “With me.”

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I hope you liked this, let me know what you thought! As always, I love you! 🖤 thank you for reading!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ now i see daylight : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader

summary: three weeks have gone by since your last encounter with reid. you'd both been doing an exceptional job of pretending that the other didn't exist. you felt like it was only fair. he didn't have the right to talk to you any type of way, and you supposed in his mind, you didn't have the right to behave so jealously. three weeks of no ground being made, that is, of course, until a conversation with rossi helps to screw your head on straight

content warnings: love confessions. reader definitely has anxiety and a fear of romance/relationships, BUT she fights her fear! i also think it's fair to say that she views telling spencer about her feelings as facing her fear, regardless of his response! this is part two to 'guilt is a motherfucker'.... i'm so sorry it's taken forever, but i've actually preparing to enlist in the army && haven't had a lot of down time. i've got 10 drafts to prove it, but i tried my best to make this longer than part one, and i hope that you guys enjoy it.

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Grow up.

Those words had haunted you for about three weeks. It'd been that long since the day you and Spencer had sort of... drifted apart. You refused to blame yourself, despite knowing full well this whole ordeal was majorly your fault. Okay, all of the blame very well rested on your shoulders, but you were stubborn. You'd been that way forever.

Maybe you were the childish, scared, and jealous little girl he'd accused you of being. That wasn't your job to figure out, because he had no business speaking to you that way. Who did he think he was? You could hit him right in his stupid little face. That last thought of violence seems to follow you.

Especially as you sat as your desk, leg bouncing furiously underneath as you counted the seconds until he was away from the kitchenette. Your cup of coffee was dwindling, and you still had a few more files to get through, before you'd give yourself room to slack off. You needed more caffeine, but the newfound thorn in your side was taking up space, using up all the sugar as he made his third cup of the day.

A more mature person might have questioned why you didn't just go up there anyway. He didn't own the kitchenette, and it wasn't like you had to say anything at all. It was meant to be cut-and-dry, you were both mature adults, you could interact as such. Except neither of you were quite as mature as you affronted. You could just picture the screwed up expression he'd offer you if you chose to approach.

You were certain your face was already twisted up, showing off your own annoyance, and he wasn't even near you.

You'd been berated by Derek, Emily, and Penelope over your petty streak, all three parties really driving in the point that you were behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum. They had a point, but you also refused to accept any such criticism about your behavior. Partly, because you hated correction, and you didn't want to think about the possibility that all of your friends were on his side.

But you think most of your refusal to accept your part from any of them had a lot to do with the fact that they weren't the ones who'd been so callously humiliated, and they weren't the ones with feelings for someone who obviously knew, and was perfectly content flaunting such knowledge right in your face.

God, you could punt him like a football.

You needed to work on your insult creativity, these were starting to get repetitive. You shake all thoughts of assault out of your mind as Dave begins to approach your desk. Rossi wasn't stupid, he like everyone else had noticed the significant decline in attention passed between you, and Reid. But unlike the rowdier members of the team, he and JJ had elected to go the route of silent but deadly.

They'd cast the both of you disapproving looks when in rare form you'd allowed your spat to affect your job. Their clear disappointment in you exceptionally loud. Times like those were sparce, you really only ever objected obedience when Hotch insisted on partnering the both of you up. Which had luckily become much more rare in the last few weeks.

"Still pouting, angioletto?" he asks, and his ability to read right through you seems to make your pout deepen. "It's been three weeks, don't you think it's time to talk about it or move on?" he questions, and there's no judgement there. It's what you like the most about Rossi, he seemed to have fallen into the role of paternal figure incredibly well. He gave you the tough love that you often needed.

But he never disrespected your boundaries, he never went too far. He'd always say just enough to nudge you in the right direction.

"Maybe." you agree, and it's true. You know it's time to put this situation behind you in one way or another, but you refused to cave first. You didn't want to give Spencer the satisfaction of it, and once again you're made aware of just how petty you really were. "But I don't want to." you voice this thought to Dave, who offers an unamused expression. You narrow your eyes in his direction.

"He's the one that started it..." you exclaim your side for the umpteenth time. Rossi's expression doesn't morph, but there is a bit of disappointment swimming in his eyes. It makes you avert your gaze quickly, you could feel the first pinpricks of guilt slicing at you. "It's true." you insist. Rossi waves a tired hand at you, ushering you to proceed, and you find yourself grateful for the chance to vent.

Everyone else knew too much about the behind the scenes to let you get a word in edgewise. Rossi was basically a clean slate. "If he knew all along, what he thinks he knows..." you stop long enough to look towards the kitchenette. He's still there, which is a relief, you'd be pissed if somehow he managed to overhear this. "Then why would he come over here and flaunt it. Was he trying to rub it in?" you demand.

Silly you for thinking that Rossi would be any less on your ass than the rest of the team. He was David Rossi after all, one of the founders of the BAU, a smart man that could read you like a picture book. "You finished?" he asks, and your mouth parts. You weren't finished, but you don't tell him that, he looked like he was ready to lecture. You offer a curt nod, and he hums under his breath.

"What exactly were you expecting from him, Y/N?" he asks, and you blanche. You weren't expecting anything, you'd never expected anything from Spencer. "I mean just stick with me here... put yourself in his shoes for one second." he prompts, and you huff. Those were big shoes, probably uncomfortable. Still, you play along as you wait for Rossi to proceed. "Would you wait around for two years for someone to finally realize that they want to be with you?" he asks.

You hope that it's rhetorical, because the answer for you was probably a lot different than the one he was expecting. You also feel the urge to correct him, you didn't take two years to figure out you liked him, you'd known since your first day. Your issue was verbalizing it, because you cared about your bond. Spencer was nice, he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. You liked seeing him get excited about the things no one else seemed to care about. He was different.

He was your friend, and you had always admired him.

"I wasn't making him wait..." you voice the correction. "And I didn't need time to realize anything..." you trail off, and realization seems to set in for Rossi. He sighs deeply, head shaking as you continue on your tangent. "I liked him back when all the girls in the unit still looked at him like he was some freak, and I'm not saying it entitles me to anything... I'm the dummy for being a chicken, but he didn't have to be so mean." and you're certain that's the root of it all.

Your feelings were hurt.

"Ah, well haven't you heard? Boys are quite stupid." Rossi offers, and you think he only said it to get you to laugh. It works, because you do chuckle, and it makes Dave's shoulders relax just slightly. "Talk to him, Y/N." he presses, and you find yourself looking across the bullpen. "It's the right thing to do." and you know he's right. "And who knows, it might even wind up being for the best." he offers, and you blanch. You nod your head, and Rossi beams proudly.

"You're right." you agree audibly, and you're fidgeting in your chair.

"You are coming this Friday aren't you?" Rossi pries, and you've gone nonverbal, head nodding once more as he mimics your action. "See if you guys can't get this squared away before then, won't you?" he asks, and he's leaving you with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You stare after Rossi with a mixture of disdain and appreciation. Leave it to the old man to get you off your ass. Your eyes are drawn to Spencer as he draws closer, you know he's not coming to you.

It was a byproduct of your desk location, but it wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage. When he's within earshot, you take the first step. "Spence?" you try, and you expect him to ignore you, to keep walking like the sassy bastard that he is, but he shocks you. He seems to mirror your feelings with his own surprised expression. "Can we talk?" you try, and it's the cliche thing... but you don't have it in you to be poetic. He stops abruptly, head nodding stiffly as he does so.

You feel like you need to stand up, having him stand over you feels too much like you're being cornered or something of the sort. He takes a small step back when you do so though, and the tension seems to only grow tenfold. You mask your disappointment in his retreat easily, instead standing up a bit straighter, sticking your chin out as you prepare to bite the bullet and be the bigger woman. It was utterly humiliating having to bring yourself back to Earth like this.

"Sure." he finally verbally answers your question, you take that as a cue to get on with it. Your patience for back and forth seemed almost as thin as his.

"Maybe it's three weeks too late..." you begin, and his eyebrows furrow. "And I know we've got this new rhythm of pretending we don't exist to each other," and his face betrays how wrong he finds that statement. His face pinches up like he's smelled something bad, and he wants to remind you that the only reason you hadn't spoken was because you hadn't had the guts to own up to the fact that you had feelings for him, but he digresses. He wasn't here to pick a fight.

"But, I'm sorry...." you spit the apology out and it feels hollow. You know you have to do better, so you proceed before he can shoot you a disapproving glance. "I really am." you insist, and despite the fact that you had only just begun to feel guilty about the whole thing in the last few minutes, you meant it. "I never should've acted like that, and I never should have let this go on for so long." you express.

Across the bullpen, Rossi, Penelope, Derek, and Emily are huddled up watching the exchange, not so discreetly. You're none the wiser to your growing audience, but Spencer sees them clearly. Not that they were really aiming for subtlety. "It's not my business what you do outside of work or who you do it with." and your nose curls, mostly because you want it to be your business. You want to be valid in your aggravation, more than that you wanted to be his. How annoying.

Your leg starts to shake just barely, and you look like you'll crumble to the ground at any moment. Spencer notices all of these ticks, and stores them into the part of his brain that's full of things specific to you. "So I'm sorry that I was being a jerk." you offer, and Spencer's face doesn't show any signs of whether or not he believed you, so you continue. "I'm happy for you." you clear your throat, and feel embarrassment setting in.

"Thanks, Y/N." his head tips to the right as he appraises you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. It's not a menacing sort of glance. He seemed to be waiting for something else, you weren't sure what more could be put into your apology, there was no way you were about to give an outright confession, that'd be humiliating. Instead, you avert your gaze, and it seems to be enough of an answer to whatever internal question he had. "That actually means a lot."

You don't smile, mostly because you're not sure what the actually means, he seems to notice the way your expression changes just slightly, and he's quick to correct himself.

"I just mean that your approval does mean a lot to me." he says, and you relax. You can't quite beam, you're still not up for it, but you offer a small smile, one that could count more as a grimace than anything else, but you weren't in the headspace to monitor your facial expressions. You were growing bothered all over again, and you had to do everything in your power to ensure that this time things didn't end with another three-week break between you and Spencer.

"Really?"

Spencer's nose curls now, he's an expressive guy. His facials said a lot more than his words could at times, and you note that this particular expressions reads somewhere between confused and surprised. Those were almost synonyms in the grand scheme of things, right? "Is that a real question?" Spencer asks, and despite the tension that hung over you at the start of the conversation, with this question you witness the way his guard drops. It was liberating in a way.

"I asked it didn't I?" you quip, but there's no real bite behind your words. Spencer seems to note this, lips pressing together firmly.

"You're important to me." he promises, and you hate that his first reaction is to validate you. Your anxiety-riddled mind would convince you that he secretly thought you were fishing for praise, which was the farthest thing from the truth. Still, you love Spencer, platonically and otherwise, and you're certain that's why you're mimicking his words back to him so quickly.

"You're important to me too."

He takes a second to stare at you, and you stare right back. You're careful not to show any signs of timidity or awkwardness, things were finally starting to look up. "I..." he begins, and you stay silent to allow him the time he needs to get whatever was on his chest off. "I'm sorry." he says, and you're surprised. It was the last thing you'd expected from this conversation, you're certain your surprise is evident plain as day on your face.

"Yeah?" you feel it's only fair to press him onward.

"Jealous little girl." he cringes as he repeats it, and you wince because it still hurts. "That was-" he shakes his head. "It was out of line. Plain and simple, I guess I was just a little frustrated, but that's not your fault. It wasn't fair of me to come at you in that way." he begins to ramble. "I wouldn't want you to feel... mocked or belittled by me." and you blink. Mostly because that was exactly how you had felt, but how did he know. It's then that you finally feel the beady-eyed stares.

You look over your shoulder just in time to witness the group dispersing, Penelope grasping a file in her hand as she scurried in the opposite direction. Derek picking up a file folder, and Emily focusing all her attention on the drink sloshing around her mug. You really hate profilers, this is the loudest thought in your head as you turn back to Spencer. "It doesn't matter if I felt justified then, or even if I feel justified about it now." and it makes you snort.

Classic Spence.

"D-Do you forgive me? Are we okay?" he asks, and his voice has grown a bit fainter. If you listen hard enough you hear the echoes of the Spencer you first met. Even with all his strides, and the confidence he gained, there was still that small part of him that felt like the nerdy boy that everyone overlooked. The one that talked too much, and was constantly silenced with looks or snide remarks whenever he rambled for too long about some niche subject.

You think this train of thought is what gets you to see Rossi's point of view. And who were you to get in the way of someone who clearly was ready for someone as amazing as Spencer. You didn't know much about the woman, aside from the fact that she was constantly making coffee, and staring at Spencer. You didn't know how long she'd worked at the bureau, you didn't even know her name, but you knew that she was brave. She knew what she wanted and got it.

Unlike you.

You suppose 'snooze you lose' is your burden to carry from this ordeal. At least you'd gotten your friend back though. And that was enough, it could be anyway. You nod your head at his question, offering a half smile. "We're okay, Spence." you promise, and he seems relieved. His smile is one of those rare ones, the gorgeous kind that Spencer reserved for special occasions. He then visibly and audibly lets out a quiet sound of relief, and it makes you relax.

"Hey, Spence, can I get your help?" JJ is calling, and your pulled from your bubble. The world is still spinning, there's still work to do, pressing matters that needed your attention. You felt a little lighter, offering another half smile as he offers you a sheepish glance. He's heading towards JJ as you sit back down at your desk. Your leg bounces despite the perceived 'win'. It only takes you a moment to wonder why, reality sets in, and you realize your shortcomings.

You'd failed the test twice.

Twice you'd had the chance to be the most open and honest with Spencer, only to let your nerves or fear of rejection get in the way. The jealousy is gone now though, instead replaced with a brief feeling of self-aggravation. You hear Dave's stern voice in your head. 'Talk to him, Y/N.' and you frown. Hadn't that been what you'd done? You'd talked to him, so why did you still feel so bummed.

Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling? Derek's question from three weeks prior slaps you like a ton of bricks. You supposed that was the end goal, wasn't it? The only way to relieve yourself of all this anxiety and all the big feelings you were having a hard time digesting. You're back to pouting, mostly because you've got no idea where to start.

You pick up one of your files, and flip it open, hoping to bury yourself in work. Every time your mind tried to stray to Spencer or your feelings, you'd switch files, until all twenty-five on your desk had a dent in them. Your hand was cramped, and you know that soon enough you'll need a cup of coffee. Emily approaches your desk, hands centered as she leans forward, eyes right on you.

"So how did it go?" she asks, and you cut your eyes at her. "Tension's all gone, so it must have gone well, right?" she's grinning down at you. "I told you if you told him the truth, you'd have nothing to worry about." Emily proceeds, and you're shaking your head back and forth.

"Emily... Emily, no!" you exclaim, and her smile drops.

"No? What do you mean, no?" she demands as you exhale.

"I still haven't told him, and I'd really appreciate it, if you'd lower your voice." you hiss as she pouts. "Maybe it's just not supposed to be." you shrug, and Emily looks visibly disgruntled with your thoughts. "I'm just saying... we're okay, because we apologized." you explain. "I don't want to risk making it awkward again, because I think I have feelings." and now you're being purposely dismissive.

"Oh, so now you're not sure?" Emily questions, and then she's clicking her tongue against her teeth. "No. I don't buy that." she denies, and she's stern, but discrete. "Don't do this, Y/N. Don't be that girl." she pleads. "There's nothing worse than regret. It eats at you until there's nothing left, you don't want to look back, and think 'what if!'" and that's twice you're hearing something of the sort. Wasn't there some quote about hearing important things twice? You're not sure.

"If you like him-" she pauses, head still shaking from side to side. "If you love him... like it seems, you owe it to yourself to tell him. What's the worst thing that could happen?" she questions, and you scoff. "No, realistically." she insists. "Realistically tell me what the worst thing could be? And not from that place where your irrational fears sit." she deadpans, and you feel attacked, it makes you look away.

"In the two years of you knowing Reid, do you actually think that he's the kind of guy to break you down to nothing if he doesn't feel the same?" she asks, and the answer when presented to you like this is no. "So tell me what it is that you're really scared of?" she presses, and you don't understand why everyone's so worked up over this. Why the whole unit seemed to be invested in you expressing your feelings.

"I don't want to mess it up..." you shrug your shoulders. "I don't want to make it weird." you offer, and Emily's unmoved by your answer.

"You managed to do that without saying a thing." she retorts, and you feel like you've got no room to speak, no voice to rebuttal with. "Let me be your shrink for a second." Emily is your friend for moments like these, where her clear allegiance to you shines through. "Talk to me." she prompts.

"Why are you so invested in this?" you inquire. "Why does it even matter?" you huff.

"Because it matters to you." she answers. "What? You didn't know that's how this team works?" she asks, and you huff out a puff of air through your nose. "This isn't about us playing matchmaker... it's about you realizing that you've got a few bad beliefs about romance... and friendships.... and relationships that are going to keep you all by yourself if you don't start speaking your mind." she shrugs.

"And despite the way you curl into yourself back here at your desk, we both know you don't really want to be alone." and you think you might cry, it makes you wince. "You owe it to yourself to try, but ultimately the decision is all yours. I just think you'll feel better if you take Reid aside, and tell him the truth about how you feel." she seems done, and you don't know how to respond. Emily pats your shoulder as she rounds your desk, before heading back across the unit.

You really hate profilers.

By the time you're heading home for the night, you and Spencer hadn't spoken again. You'd been so buried in work that you'd skipped lunch to get things done. You'd gotten a comment from Hotch about that, wondering if you were feeling alright. You knew that he knew the truth, even as you told him a fib. Hotch though, was discrete enough not to make you feel scrutinized by exposing just how obvious you were. You couldn't get Emily's words out of your head.

You didn't feel angry with her, and your embarrassment had managed to go away within the first forty minutes after she'd left you alone. You knew she was right, but it still didn't make things easier. It was almost like you forgot how to speak whenever the time came to really express yourself. You supposed that was why your apology had been so flat. Feelings weren't your strong suit, and you'd learned to express them by lashing out. A less than healthy way to live.

You liked that the team didn't speak to you like a child or treat you like you were incapable. Instead, they talked to you like an adult, gave the truth to you in a way that sliced through all your stubbornness and attitude. As you head towards the elevator, you hear footsteps, and look just in time to see Spencer making his way towards you. His satchel hangs off his shoulder, and he looks relieved, an emotion that you knew all too well by the end of a work shift.

You hoped there wouldn't be any cases that drug you back to the unit, all you wanted was a shower and a nap in your own bed.

Stepping into the elevator, Spencer trails you. He takes one side of the elevator, while you huddle up in the other. He offers you a tired smile as the doors slide closed, you offer him a smile right back. It's weary, mostly because you were drained, but partly, because Spencer had been the object of your thoughts the entire day. Especially after Emily's blunt speech. You were drained. The anxiety of keeping the secret far outweighed any fear of rejection now.

"Hey, are you alright?" he addresses you, after noticing the way you seemed lost in your head.

"Hmm?" you hum, and he repeats himself. It snaps you out of your mind spiral, and your head nods. A lie. "I'm all good, Spence." you reply, and he looks disappointed, but not surprised. "Thanks for asking though." you add a second after, and he offers you a dry little nod of his head. The elevator is back silent, and you hope the doors open quick. You might drown if the tension grew any thicker.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." he says, and you blank. Your confusion is clear as day on your face. "Earlier..." and your still not understanding. "I wasn't telling you that you were important to me, because I was expecting anything in return." he explains, and it clicks. "If it made you feel weird, I'm sorry. It just felt like the right way to express my point then." he proceeds, and you don't know how to collect yourself. "So, I'm sorry." and you want to scream.

Mostly at yourself for being so infuriatingly inadequate at expressing your thoughts and feelings.

"If you want, we could just pretend I never said anything?" he offers, and you don't answer quick enough. The elevator slides open just as the words are settling inside your head, and he's stepping out into the parking deck without another word. You sit there in the elevator for a moment, the door sliding shut after a moment, but you don't move. You feel like you're at a crossroads, almost at a point of no return. If you let Spencer leave now... like this, there would be no coming back.

There would be no room to gain some balls later, and try again. It wouldn't be fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to yourself.

You feel like hyperventilating, thoughts everywhere. Love had never been a subject you really understood. You'd always sort of saw it as this concrete construct. Unchangeable, always either black or white. A gloomy, gray, existence that could cut you up and spit you out. Love could turn you into a hollow version of who you once were. Love could break you down, and make you nothing. But then you think of your team. JJ and Penelope, Hotch, Dave, Emily, Derek. Spencer.

They were the rarest and purest examples of love in your day-to-day life, weren't they? You'd never quite met anyone who had your back more than your team. They fought for you, they fought with you. They believed in you, pushed you to be the best you that you could be. So why was it so hard, what were you scared of? Was it the notion of getting Spencer, and staining him? Blowing out that light inside him the way you'd witnessed for so long?

Was that a life worth living? Was it a chance you could take?

And then you huff, because damnit... you were tired of waiting. You were tired of anxiety, and uncertainty, and insecurity, and pain. You're certain that is why you hit the button to open the elevator. Gracefulness is not on your side as you practically sprint out into the car park, your eyes scanning hopefully for the familiar silhouette of your friend. When you spot him, you release a quiet noise of relief. "S-Spencer!" you hear the echo from your shout, and cringe.

But it doesn't matter, because he turns, he stops, and he's looking at you. His eyebrows are raised, hands gripping his bag, as you start to run. You ignore your fatigue, and your desire to run and hide, and instead run towards something for once. You don't stop running until you're past the point of 'personal space', you want to hover, you want to be in his space, because it was the only way you could possibly get through this. He looks a bit unsure, and still a bit grumpy.

You hope by the end of this that's no longer the case.

"Spencer, I don't want to forget about what you said." you're trying to catch your breath, bouncing up on your heels. "I don't want to pretend you never said it." you add, and Spencer's surprised expression has the hairs on your arm and neck ready to stand on end. "I-I actually want to know what you meant." you admit. "Because, I know what I meant when I said it... and it's not something that I take back." you express, and you can hear blood rushing in your ears.

"What did you mean?" Spencer asks, and you blanche.

"I asked you first." the obvious retort, and Spencer exhales loudly, but there's no annoyance, no exasperation. Only amusement, like always.

"I've done enough talking, haven't I?" he asks. "I want to know what you're thinking." and his voice is so soft, full of tenderness that you feel like you're being serenaded. You feel like you've got a knot in your throat also, almost like you'll suffocate if you don't get your thoughts out. "I promise I won't leave you hanging." and you're not sure what he means by that, but it helps. It makes your heart stutter-step, and you need to catch your breath, because you can't believe this is actually happening, or that you're actually here.

"I-" you play withy your fingers, and you have to inhale deeply to ensure you don't chicken out. "Spence, I didn't tell you that you were important to me, because you said it first." you promise, and he nods, but he doesn't say anything. His eyes are syrupy, alluring, and beautiful, still twinkling under the dingy, flickering lights of the parking deck. "I said it because you're all I really think about." you admit, and his eyebrows furrow, and you're scared.

"And the last three weeks... I've been so mad at you." you blurt out. "I was the one that acted like a child, but I was angry with you, because I thought that you were making fun of me... and all the feelings I have for you." you exhale, and you look down at the ground, because the nerves that come with your words are overwhelming. "I was jealous, I acted like a child, but it was only because I thought you were rubbing it in my face... I thought you were being cruel."

Spencer's long lashes blink rapidly, but he's still stone silent. Probably because he knows that you're still not done. "And that wasn't fair of me, because I know you, Spence. You're not that type of person, but I just I couldn't reign myself in, and I acted immaturely because I was scared... and then just now, in the elevator... I almost did it again. I almost let you think that I don't care about you... but I do. Spencer, I have feelings for you." and you clear your throat, legs shaking.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not... this isn't some trick or ploy or cry for help. I understand if you're mind is elsewhere... and I'm so sorry if the way I've been acting ruined everything, but I-I love you okay? That's what this has all been about. I'm sorry it took me so long to say something, but there it is." and you gasp, chest heaving now that you were finished. You finally look up at Spencer again, and he's staring you down. It doesn't feel hypersexual or heady with tension.

Instead, it's like the first intake of air into your lungs after being under water for so long. You supposed that's what the truth did, you supposed that's what your feelings for Spencer did when you allowed them to exist. "You mean that?" he asks, and you huff.

"Of course, I mean it. I mean it so much, I think I'm going to be sick." and despite himself he laughs, a bright beam following after it. He takes a small step towards you, and you feel crowded, the body heat from you both warming you up from the inside out. Still, despite how outwardly calm he looked in comparison to you, you managed to spot the shyness, the anxiety that rested in his own eyes. He looked unsure, almost like he was being careful not to ruin the moment.

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that?" he asks, and you're shocked, stuck, surprised. You don't know if this is in your mind or if you just got lucky. "Have you ever-" he's got this gleeful look on his face. "There's this quote by Lao Tzu..." he stammers, "Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses." he quotes, and there are no butterflies... you think that might be a good thing.

"I don't know if there's been a time since I met you that you haven't been on my mind." Spencer explains, and there it is. "I think that's why I snapped the way I did, I don't think I ever imagined a scenario where we'd be here." he admits, and it pains you to know that he thought that way. "It was-" he motions between you both. "The thought of us being something was sort of just something I believed would always sort of just be a thought." Spencer's glowing red.

The blush coats his ears, cheeks, nose, and neck. His eyes are brighter, and his hands twitch at his side, almost like he's restraining himself. You think you only notice, because you're doing the same.

"I want to be with you." he says this so faintly you're almost unsure you heard him correctly. Your eyes widen, and your surprise is obvious. He takes a small step forward, and he's crowding you. It's nothing like the movies, in fact, the closer he gets to you, the more you're able to see the shyness in his eyes. He reaches out, and his hand ghosts over your side.

"Spence-" and the you that you were just an hour earlier, the one too scared to tell him the truth almost feels like she never even existed.

"Can I?" he asks, and your eyes drift to his hands that are inching closer to your body. You nod your head quickly, and he doesn't look amused. "I want to hear you." he says quietly. "I want you to tell me that I can." he adds, and you find yourself nodding anyway.

"Y-You can." you promise. "But I don't want you to pretend." his eyebrows furrow again. "Please don't do this if you don't mean it." you say, and Spencer's hands drop to your side, there's no wandering fingers, in fact it feels like he wanted to touch you for the sole purpose of keeping you from shaking any longer.

"Y/N, I want to be with you." he repeats it more firmly this time, and he's looking directly at you. It's intense, the eye contact more than anything else. He sounds sincere, and that makes you nervous.

"But what about..." and you trail off, because you don't know what to label the pretty woman he'd been entertaining. Spencer chuckles quietly, and his head shakes from side to side.

"She was nice." he reiterates the words he'd said three weeks prior. "But, she's not you... I don't think anyone would've been able to fill your shoes." he says, and you squeeze your eyes closed, because God, Spencer was so good with words. His hands are on your face, brushing at your cheeks as you shed a few long overdue tears. "Are these happy tears?" he asks hopefully, and your eyes shoot open. Your head nods, and you're not sure why you're so quiet.

Maybe, because life had thrown a curveball and surprised you in a good way. "Happy tears." you agree, and he presses his lips together, thumbs still working to keep the tears at bay. "I just can't believe-"

"Please do." he cuts you off, before you can get it out. "Believe this, believe me." he almost begs, and you hum. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, and you don't answer him, instead you surge forward and press your lips to his. You're certain security is getting a full view of the action, Spencer kisses like he wants to inhale you, and it's nice.. It's more than nice, his kisses are surged with emotion, every ounce of affection that his words had been drenched in was felt in the kiss.

Had breathing not been a factor, you might have stayed there. When you pull back to inhale, Spencer's got this twinkle in his eye that makes your nose scrunch up. "What?" you press, and he grins at you.

"You love me..." he breathes it out, and you're not sure if he's stating it or asking, but you suppose now that the cat's out of the bag, saying it again is nothing.

"Yeah. I love you, Spence." you promise, and he's quick to lean in and peck you on the lips. "D'you love me too?" you ask, once he's pulled back, and his hands move up, cupping both sides of your face as he drags his thumbs up and down.

"I love you." and it sounds like a promise.

So you believe him.

 "It’s a profoundly strange feeling, to stumble across someone whose desires are shaped so closely to your own, like reaching toward your reflection in a mirror and finding warm flesh under your fingertips. If you should ever be lucky enough to find that magical, fearful symmetry, I hope you’re brave enough to grab it with both hands and not let go.” ― Alix E. Harrow

[rynwritesreid]

This is v specific so totally get if it’s like too much pressure, but what about angst/fluff with a BAU reader. It’s her birthday, and Penelope tried to throw a little office surprise party for her after snooping through her file, not knowing she doesn’t like her birthday. Her dad died on her birthday years ago, so when everyone starts singing and all this attention’s on her she freaks out and leaves. Then Spencer goes to see what’s wrong and they spend the day together on her terms (very hurt/comfort yk?)

A/N: To everyone who has lost a dad, or any close family member/friend, I am so very sorry. Grief is a difficult process, but I do know that it does hurt less eventually, and you can talk about them without crying. I truly do love all of you guys and please feel free to reach out if you need someone to listen to you. I hope this story does bring someone comfort though.

Also, I want to give @iluvreid a lil shoutout, and if you want to follow an amazing person, follow her. She always proofreads my work, and gives me the best requests. ILY.

Summary: After Garcia, and the rest of the team, surprise you for your birthday, you're forced to face how hard this day really is for you.

Content: Hurt/Comfort (angst to a degree). Grief. A lot of talks about losing a father figure. Comforting!Spencer. Sad!reader. Fluff.

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As the last notes of "Happy Birthday" faded away, you stood frozen in place, unable to move. Everyone's eyes were fixed on you, waiting for you to make a move, and cut the cake. Garcia's face was beaming with a wide smile, clearly proud of herself for throwing this surprise party for your special day. "I had to do some snooping through your file to find out when it is," she admitted with a delighted singsong voice. 

You could feel your eyes welling up, you knew you meant to feel happy, especially knowing Garcia had put so much effort into this. But you hated your birthday, it was no longer a happy day to you. All you could imagine now was getting that call, one to inform you that your dad had sadly passed away.

Without saying a word to anyone, you run out of the building hearing Garcia, Emily, and JJ shouting after you, trying to stop you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you sprinted down the street, the distant sounds of your friends' voices fading behind you. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed yourself to keep running, desperate to outrun the memories that threatened to consume you.

You didn't stop until you reached the park, the familiar sight offering a semblance of peace. Collapsing onto a bench, you buried your face in your hands, the sobs wracking through your body. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, the weight of grief pressing down on you like a physical force.

You hadn’t told anyone about how much you hated your birthday, and the only one who knew about your dad dying was Spencer. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you felt a presence beside you on the bench. Looking up through tear-streaked eyes, you saw Spencer standing there, concern etched in his features. He didn't say anything, just sat quietly next to you, offering his silent support.

“Everyone’s going to hate me, aren’t they Spencer.” You wanted to know, your voice barely a whisper amidst the sounds of the park. Spencer shook his head gently, his eyes filled with understanding.

"No one is going to hate you," he replied softly, his hand reaching out to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze. "We all care about you, and we just want to help."

"It's just... every year on my birthday, I can't help but remember the day I got that call about my dad," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “And I know I should have told someone, but I just couldn’t.”

Spencer listened attentively, his presence a calming balm to your raw emotions. His gaze was warm and understanding, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain. The weight of unspoken grief hung heavy in the air between you, a shared moment of vulnerability that drew you closer together.

"I understand," Spencer finally spoke, his voice soft and gentle. "Losing someone you love is never easy, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed, especially on days like today."

His words offered a sense of solace, a reminder that it was alright to struggle with the memories that haunted you. You let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension begin to ease from your shoulders as you leaned into Spencer's comforting presence.

"I should have told you all," you admitted quietly, the weight of guilt settling in your chest. "I didn't mean to run out like that... I just couldn't handle it."

Spencer's expression softened even further; his eyes filled with compassion. "It's okay," he reassured you, a small, understanding smile tugging at his lips. "We all have our own ways of coping with pain, and it's alright to take the time you need to heal."

“I don't know how to face this day anymore, Spencer," Spencer's hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, offering a steadying presence. "You don't have to face it alone," he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. "We're here for you, no matter what you need. Whether it's to talk, to cry, or just to be with someone, we'll stand by you."

“Is it okay if I just spend the day with you? I’d like to do some stuff to remember my dad by if that’s okay?” your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’d be honoured to spend the day with you and remember your dad together. Just let me call Hotch first to tell him you’re okay.” Spencer dialled Hotch's number and explained the situation while you sat beside him, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude wash over you. As Hotch assured Spencer that everything was under control back at the office, Spencer turned to you with a gentle smile.

"We have all the time you need," Spencer said softly, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that resonated with your own pain. "Let's take today to honour your dad in a way that feels right to you."

“Is it okay if we go for a little drive, I always give my dad his favourite flowers and write him a letter. It makes me feel closer to him.” Spencer nodded; his expression filled with unwavering support. "Of course, let's go," he said, standing up from the bench and offering you a hand. You took it gratefully, rising to your feet as a sense of calm settled over you. The weight of your grief felt a little lighter with Spencer by your side, his quiet strength a grounding presence.

Together, you walked out of the park and towards Spencer's car. The drive was quiet, the soft hum of the engine providing a comforting background noise. You watched the world pass by in a blur, lost in your thoughts as memories of your dad flooded your mind.

When you reached the flower shop, Spencer parked the car and turned to you. "Take all the time you need," he said gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You nodded, grateful for his understanding, before stepping out of the car and into the fragrant shop.

The shop was a riot of colour and scents, the vibrant blooms lining the shelves like a kaleidoscope of memories. You moved through the aisles with a sense of purpose, selecting your father's favourite flowers with care. Spencer followed quietly behind you, a silent presence of support as you gathered the blooms in your arms.

As you made your selection, you approached the counter to pay for the flowers. The florist, a kind-faced woman with gentle eyes, looked at you with understanding as she rang up your purchase. "These are beautiful choices," she remarked softly, her voice tinged with empathy.

"Thank you," you replied, offering her a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. The weight of grief sat heavy in your chest as you accepted the bouquet, cradling it carefully in your arms.

Stepping back out into the sunlight, you felt a mix of emotions swirling within you. The drive to the cemetery was quiet, the gentle presence of Spencer beside you offering a sense of peace. As you approached your father's resting place, the familiar sight of his gravestone brought a fresh wave of sorrow crashing over you.

You knelt down by the grave, arranging the flowers with care as tears welled in your eyes. Spencer stood a few steps behind you, giving you the space to grieve while offering his silent support. With trembling hands, you placed the bouquet at the base of the gravestone, your fingers brushing against the cold stone surface.

"I miss you, Dad," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur. Memories of him flooded your mind – his laughter, his guidance, his unwavering love. The ache in your chest felt raw and consuming, but being here, honouring his memory with Spencer by your side, brought a sense of solace.

The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze seemed to echo the whispered words you spoke to your father's memory. Spencer moved to stand beside you, a silent sentinel as you poured your heart out. The weight of your grief felt momentarily lighter with each word you uttered, each shared memory a balm to your wounded soul.

"I wish you were here, Dad," you continued, your voice filled with longing. "I wish I could tell you how much I miss you, how much I still need you." The tears flowed freely now; tracks of sorrow etched on your cheeks as you laid bare the depth of your pain.

"I know he's watching over you," Spencer said softly, his voice a soothing murmur. "He's proud of the person you've become, and he'll always be a part of you, guiding you through the difficult moments."

Spencer's words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “Thank you for being here with me," you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Spencer's gaze was unwavering, filled with a depth of understanding that spoke volumes. "You don't have to face this alone," he said softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray tear from your cheek. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

“Is there anything else you’d like to do today?” Spencer offered, his voice gentle and reassuring. You took a moment to consider, the weight of grief still heavy on your shoulders but somewhat lifted by Spencer's unwavering support. After a moment's pause, you looked up at him with a small smile playing on your lips.

"I would like to go to that little cafe my dad and I used to frequent," you said, a faint glimmer of nostalgia in your eyes. "It would mean a lot to me to revisit those memories today."

Spencer nodded, his expression warm and understanding. "Let's go," he replied simply, offering you his hand as you rose from where you knelt by your father's grave. The two of you made your way back to the car, the drive to the cafe filled with a comfortable silence.

The cafe was just as you remembered it - cosy and inviting, with the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. As you and Spencer settled into a corner booth, memories of shared laughter and quiet conversations with your dad flooded your mind.

"I remember how much he loved coming here," you said softly, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. "He would always order the same thing and sit by the window, watching the world go by."

"He sounds like an amazing man," Spencer replied, his voice warm with genuine interest. "I wish I could have met him."

You shared stories of your dad with Spencer, recounting cherished moments and funny anecdotes that made the weight of grief feel a little lighter.

Another A/N: If you seek help, or advice while dealing with grief, please do not be afraid to reach out to anyone/someone.

Sibling support (for those dealing with the loss of a sibling)

The good grief trust

The grief gang

Cruse-parent loss

What’s your grief-podcast

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PLEASE ONLY ADD YOURSELF ONCE, AND IF YOU ARE NOT ON HERE YOUR TAG DOES NOT WORK

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hello lovelyy, hope ur doing good! 🫶🏼 can i request a studying w college matt fluff? where he is like all boyish and sweet and perfect and boyfriend ughhh

ps.: yes I KNOW i only request for him 😭 but im new to the fandom and obsessed w him.. sometimes i feel like the hype on him is kinda gone idk.. so if you do not feel like writing, it its all good! thank uuu and love ur blog! 💐

hii my angel!! I am and hope you are too!! so so cute and ofc!! it depends on who you follow bc matty gets lots of love on my dash. if you want i can rec some matt writers? but if you follow me, I have a feeling you probably follow them already😭 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

he’s the prettiest

STUDY BUDDIES.

college matt murdock x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 353

At the end of every school week, you and Matt would have a long, laborious study session to complete all assignments before the weekend rolled around. They would be tedious, but they were worth it when it meant you could have a couple of days together, interrupted and enjoying the other's company.

You would always be far more productive when you were in the presence of your boyfriend, though most would think otherwise. His silent encouragement and support would give you the push you needed to work through your copious papers and assignments - his hard work ethic also rubbing off on you.

You were in your dorm, you at your desk, Matt laying on your bed - braille papers bunched and resting atop his chest —disregarded—

Both of you were trying to cram as much as you could before calling it a night, each of you far too tired to be using your brains in the way you currently are.

"I can't do anymore," you sigh, twisting in your chair to face Matt. "My head will explode," you playfully groan, standing to join him on your bed. 

"I can help?" he offers, scooching across the mattress - making more space for you.

You flop beside him and curl into his side, head resting atop his paper-covered chest. "No. No, absolutely not," you laugh softly, far too weary to give it any more than that. 

"I didn't mark you down as a quitter," he lightly chuckles, stroking a hand up your spine - gently nudging you closer to him. "Shame on you," he teases, pressing a kiss into the top of your forehead.

You peer up at him, his signature boyish smile out and on display. "Did you even finish your assignment?" you ask, gesturing to the papers beside him. 

He hums, tone somewhat sleepy. "Forty minutes ago."

"Forty?" you repeat, lifting your head from his chest, trying to find signs of a lie on his face. "What have you even been doing for forty minutes?"

He hesitates, the corners of his lips tilting back up into a soft grin. "Listening to you."

[snzleclerc]

pt 3!!

here you can find the other parts of pour toujors

-

"Hey love!" Pascale welcomes me with open arms at her doorstep. Despite being in Monaco, their house isn't overly fancy. It's the same simple yet beautiful home since I met Arthur.

"Hey Pas!" My smile always lights up when I see her, and her hug brings me back to my childhood.

She greets the boys with kisses on their cheeks and grabs the groceries, turning her gaze towards me. "Lou, come help me with dinner, let's catch up." She says with a warm look at the end; I already know what our conversation will be about.

The boys head towards the living room, and I follow Pascale to the kitchen. She knows I'm terrible in the kitchen, and it's obvious I won't be much help, so I sit on a stool, leaning on the counter, waiting for someone to say something.

We sit in a loud silence for a while until I decide to break it. "They called me two days ago, said they wanted to talk. I guess I should give them a chance, right?" I say with uncertainty in my voice. This has happened before, and I don't know why I'm letting it happen again. I just can't seem to avoid it.

She comes closer and places her hand on mine for comfort. "Lou, we've seen this before, you know where this will lead, it's only hurting you more."

"But despite all that, they're my parents, Pas."

"I've told you many times, parents are those who care for you, not just those who brought you into this world." Tears well up in my eyes; how can I be so naive to trust them after all this? But worse, how can I be so foolish to want to give them another chance and just can't seem to stop?

"Look, I just want what's best for you, Loulou. You're my heart's daughter, and you know I hate seeing my kids sad, right?" She continues with a soothing voice that calms my heart amidst all this mess.

"I feel so useless. I've tried everything for them to love me, but it seems like nothing ever worked. It was always my sister, always. She was the princess of the house, it was hell. And maybe the fault isn't on either of us, but on those monsters I can call my parents. I just wish they'd love me for a second, is that too much to ask?" I let it all out, the words and my tears. I can't talk much about this with Arthur. Yes, he'd understand, but it's not the same.

Little did I know that someone was behind the door listening. Charles.

He enters the kitchen silently; only Pascale saw and didn't tell me anything. She knows that, despite Charles not being my best friend, he would always support and help me with anything I needed.

Charles was the only one, besides Pascale, who knew all about this. Well, almost everything. She knew she could trust him and that he would give advice to me, even if not directly.

He starts approaching and sits next to me, and when I notice, I quickly wipe my tears. Until he asks his mother for something. "Mom, could you leave us alone for a moment, please?"

She nods and leaves the kitchen, leaving just the two of us side by side. Him watching me and me with a distant look, focused on the table at the same time.

"Lapine, with what little I heard just now, I already understand all your feelings," he lies a bit. "You're such a strong person, and I admire you a lot. I know we're not that close, but I wish we were. But most importantly, I want you to know that you can always count on me, no matter what, I'll always be here for you, okay?" He finishes, and my tears keep falling. No man besides Arthur had ever said that to me before; I couldn't hold back.

"You know, Charlie? I see you and your siblings all happy and being treated the same way, and I wonder why my family isn't like that." His fingers go towards my face to gently wipe the liquid flowing from my eyes.

"Look, Lapine, every family has its weaknesses. Do you think I don't wonder every day why Papa and Jules are gone? I know, it's hard, but we have to accept it over time. You've been our family since the day you met Arthur, don't worry, we're here for you, always."

He finishes saying, and I pull him into a hug without hesitation; those words warmed my heart immensely. "Don't let them back into your life, Lapine, you don't deserve that."

[shroomsroom]

Hiii I was wondering if you can do all the greasers with a s/o that doesn't talk at all only for one day they just spoke like normal drink lots of water dear 😘🫶🏽

Summary: The Outsiders x Silent!Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Note: thanks for the reminder to drink water, been feeling a little sick lately

You were not a talker, the whole gang knew that. The best they'd get out of you is a chuckle or a word or two. So when you're out with one of the gang and you're nonstop talking, imagine their shock!

PONYBOY CURTIS

It started when he got you a milkshake from the DQ, you smiled and thanked him and that was that. Imagine his pleasant surprise when you asked him how his day was. He eased into the conversation, unsure on how to talk to you, but he found you easygoing and fun to be around. There was always hesitancy in his voice, like he didn't want to scare you back into your shell, but really enjoyed your conversations and when he dropped you off at home he asked if you wanted to do the same thing next week.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny understood your wish to be quiet. He felt it too, although not on the same level. It was a quiet night on the lot where you and Johnny spent a lot of night together when you suddenly spoke.

“I think I saw a bunny over there” you whisper quietly and point at a bush.

“Do you like rabbits?” he asked, expecting a simple nod but when you opened your mouth and started rambling about your favorite animals he was giddy with excitement. He complimented your voice once, but saw how shy that made you so he laid off and started asking you about your favorite things to get you chattering more.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda usually let you hangout at the DX with him while he works because you don't get in his way and talk too much. He was just fixing up a car from underneath when you asked him a question.

“What're you doin?” He nearly bumped his head trying to get out from under the car quickly. He had a huge grin on his face, excited that you used your voice to express interest in what he enjoys.

“Just fixing up the axle of these tires” he said, “if you have anymore questions, just ask” you nodded and started to asked a slew of questions, Soda was almost overwhelmed if it wasn't for the fact that he was hanging onto each note of your voice, savoring this rare moment.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve doesn't really talk much without Soda either, so when your sitting at the drive in in silence you get an overwhelming urge to start conversation.

“What're you doin tomorrow?” You ask quietly. He smiles,

“Longest sentence I've heard you say in a while” he teased and you smile awkwardly. “I'm not doing anything, what are your plans?” He asked, trying to prod more conversation out of you. You happily obliged and started to tell him about your plans from beginning to end. Steve can't help but feel happy that you've talked to him for so long, and he definitely knows he's gonna brag about this to the rest of the gang.

TWO BIT MATTHEWS

Two-Bit had invited you over to his house for the day to help with his sisters. They were respectful and cute and got excited when you came in. They started by asking you a sea of simple questions to which you only curtly replied to until you started to warm up to them. When they had you talking about certain events in your life, you started getting more talkative. Two Bit was watching from the side in awe and he quickly sat down next to you. He started trading stories with you, anecdotes from the past or plans for the future and that was how you spent your whole day talking to Two-Bit and his sisters.

DARRY CURTIS

Darry had invited you over to cook one of your favorite dishes with him for dinner. You originally had a recipe paper but had lost in on the way to his house. It took a little bit of confidence but you eventually warmed up to the idea of instructing verbally. The moment you started, Darry blinked at you for a few seconds before smiling.

“Yes ma’am” he chuckled, readily following your instructions.

When he served up the dish later, he nudged you with his elbow.

“How many more recipes like that do you have?”

DALLAS WINSTON

You were at Buck's with Dally for a party. Your drink glass was drained and you were craving another so you turned to Dally trying to ask him for another drink using hand gestures. He wasn't getting the message so you tried to ask him verbally, however the music was too loud and you were getting frustrated. You grabbed him by the collar and yelled into his ear,

“CAN YOU GET ME ANOTHER DRINK?”

He looked at you shocked for a moment before laughing,

“Didn't know you had that in ya, dollface” He picked up your glass,

“‘S long as your willing to talk to me more, I'll get you drinks any time you ask.”

You rolled your eyes but a small smile settled on your face.

[alottiegoingon]

could you write bsf!lucy and reader practicing for boys. r’s loud and lucy has to shut her up because no one can know!!!!

i just KNOW she’d be whispering “shh, shh, baby, i know.” as she fingers reader ÑWIFKANFKSJWOFKS sorry im ovulating :/

lucy maclean x bsf!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, pet names, just a short and not proofread blurb (pls ignore the mistakes its 1am)

this made me so 😵‍💫 i hope you like it!!

living in the vault was fun. everyone had their own way to contribute to the community and the days were filled with lots of things to be done in order to the wellbeing of everyone. but for you and lucy, it could also be very boring.

lucy, always the perfect role model for everyone, was the perfect best friend as well. talking about boys and fantasizing about sex and marriage was one of the best things you guys did together but regardless of the many hours you spent gossiping, you were still insecure about not being good enough. and that’s how lucy came up with the magnificent idea of hers. she used to practice with her cousin all the time, it would be practically the same if she did it with her best friend. right?

and that’s how she ended up in your bed.

“you have to relax for me, okay?” she breathes, hot puffs of breath hitting your face. lucy was on top of you, face millimeters away and arm resting on the mattress to support half of her weight.

after toying with your wet and puffy clit, watching the many reaction of yours attentively and feeling aroused by how your face contorted in pleasure, her fingers were now playing with your entrance, threatening to go in.

you could barely get a hold on yourself, hips involuntarily thrusting up to feel more of her.

gently, she pushed a single finger inside of you first just to get you used to it and you immediately felt overwhelmed. your soaked pussy clenches around her and your mouth hangs open to mimic a silent scream as you feel your tight insides being filled.

your hands reach for her arm and you grip on her skin, squirming under her.

“oh, you’re tight” she groans, fingers completely still inside of you. slowly, she begins to pump in and out of you and you can’t help but dig your nails into her arm, holding it in place and keeping her hand hidden by your halfway open jumpsuit. “you’re doing so great, love.”

when you were just adjusting yourself, lucy adds another finger and your legs feel weak, shaking. in the same instance, the first noise of yours left your ajar lips. a husky and loud moan followed by widened eyes and eyes full of terror looking at your best friend.

lucy seems to understand your silent feelings almost immediately but she doesn’t stop. instead, you feel her fingers getting deeper and you wriggle harder underneath hear.

“no, no. it’s okay.” she reassures you with a comforting grin and it takes you no time to relax and let her do whatever she pleases. “it feels good, doesn’t it?” you watch her shift in bed, now on her knees in bed between your legs.

and you urgently nods. lucy picks up the pace of her own thrusts and her fingers go deeper, finding your sweet spot and curling her digits right on place, rubbing it. you roll your eyes and your toes curl as not just one or two but many eager moans come out hurting your throat.

“lucy!” you gasp, “oh my god.”

worried about the thick walls of the vault not being nearly enough to silence you, lucy hurries to shush you, hand flying to your mouth to muffle the sounds. “shh, baby. i know, i know.” she whispers, soothing and smooth, eyes locked on you. “keep it down, angel.”

with lucy’s fingers frantically going in and out of your pussy, a knot begins to forms in your stomach and as an unconscious response, you desperately try to close your legs just for her to stop your attempt by briefly letting go of your mouth to slap your upper thigh and spread your legs further. “nu-uh. keep them open, sweetie.”

your breath gets more and more ragged followed by suppressed moans barely making into a coherent sentence. hips fervently moving and matching lucy’s pace, you cheeks flush as you were humping her fingers. “don’t hold it, bunny. it’s okay.”

and with her magic words, your entire body gets taut, eyes fluttering shut, pleasure coiling inside of you and back arching as you come undone, making a mess out of lucy’s fingers. whimpering into her hand and shaking beneath her, you try to recover yourself as she gradually stops fingering you.

“you did so good. i’m proud of you.” withdrawing her fingers from you and her hand from your mouth, lucy smiles at you, not bothered by her fingers coated in your cum.

panting, you finally mumble a few breathy words. “that was so hot…” and she just shakes her head with a cute smug smirk while leaning up towards you to fix your hair and brush it off your sweaty forehead.

“should i… try now? just to make sure you’re ready too.” not sure of what the answer would be, you decide to take the risk of being rejected by lucy.

what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t help her to feel more confident and ready for boys?

“okie dokie!” she moves in bed, excitedly, not thinking twice.

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Okayy, so I've read the rules. This blog is pretty much free, soooooo here's my req:

It's a Hawks × reader [optional: female]

This is an angst-y one wherein Hawks comes back home with reader missing. Like he comes back and notices that reader isn't home. It turns out that reader was doing grocery shopping. But on the way back, reader got targeted by some alcoholic drunkards in an alleyway. Reader gets 🍇-d (only mentioned).

Now that Hawks' found reader, he realised that it was too late and that the reader was already traumatized. So, as a result, the reader got a bit distant from Hawks because the reader might not see him in the same way again because of the recent events.

(It's okay if you're uncomfortable with this. It's hard finding a blog this free. Dw, I'm patient enough to wait for this. *If you'll ever do this*. Goodluck and take your time!)

(Hey! Thank you for being so kind, it means a lot! Also no worries about my comfort, AND I was proofreading this very quickly so please excuse any errors. Also the ending was hard to write ;-; I was struggling. I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day!)

“For the Best”

Keigo Takami x GN! Reader

(Warning: SA mention, swearing, ANGST AND ANGST)

It was an ordinary day, well, quite a boring day for The Wing Hero: Hawks. A few quick fights here and there and a couple of small interviews, nothing special, Keigo couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

Fortunately time went by fast and evening came quicker than expected, not like Keigo minded at all. He decided to end his Hero patrol and fly his way to his shared home, whistling the tune of a song that’s been stuck in his head for a while now.

He arrives home, unlocking the door and opening it, “I’m homeee! Where’s my wonderful partner?” Keigo calls out for you, only to be met with silence, he didn’t even hear a single sound. “Maybe they’re in the bedroom napping.” He thought, heading into the said room to find an empty bed.

Keigo searched the house top to bottom, each room he went through and showed no sign of you he got increasingly worried. Though he tried to stay optimistic. He figured maybe you went to the store since yesterday you’ve talked about going and plus your wallet is gone. He sighed and laid on the couch, hoping that you’ll come home soon and relax with him.

....

A slow and dragged out hour passed and an unnerving feeling settled in the pit of Keigo’s stomach, only growing more as time went on. He decided to go out and look for you, following the same usual route you take to go to the store. Searching attentively, he wonders what could’ve happened, he’s an optimistic person but this feeling he feels is just way too unsettling.

All of the sudden his senses perked up as he passed by a dark alleyway, trusting his gut feeling, he unhesitatingly went in. That’s when he heard small desperate cries and ran over to the noise, spotting you on the ground, blood streaming down the side of your forehead.

“Y/N!” Keigo’s shouts, running over to you, “What happened to you?” He says in shock but you stayed silent, only cried. Keigo uses a few of his feathers to go to the nearest person and drag them there, ordering them to call the police to start an investigation while he takes you to the hospital.

Flying you to the nearest hospital, he worries about your wellbeing, not only physically but mentally too. He swiftly arrives there, practically bursting through the door and explains the situation to the receptionist. He’s not sure what exactly happened but all he knows is that you need to be checked out immediately just in case you have any serious wounds.

“Hey I’m not sure what happened, I just found them in an alleyway.” The receptionist nodded her head in acknowledgment and soon the nurses rushed you into an available room and got to work. Keigo frowns when he gets one last look at your face, it pains him to see you so hurt. How could he let something like this happen?

....

Keigo sits in the waiting room, getting increasingly more impatient as time goes on. It’s only been a half hour and it already feels like eternity. Suddenly he got ripped out of his thoughts when he heard his Pro Hero name, standing up to the detective.

“Any news?” Keigo questioned.

“Yes, security camera footage from a nearby building caught the incident. The victim was walking and the suspects dragged them into an alleyway. Luckily the cams caught their faces and we’ve identified the suspects. The three of them were taken into custody for assault, all three were highly intoxicated too.” The detective informed him.

“I see, is that all?”

“After the victim has recovered from their injuries, we’ll ask them some questions to get more information on what happened in that alleyway.” The man explained, writing something down in his notebook.

“Alrighty.” Keigo says, hoping that you’ll have a quick recovery and everything will go back to normal soon.

“Hawks, the victims' treatment went well. So well in fact, that they should be released in about a day, you’re free to see them right now.” The doctor said behind him, and the detective patted Keigo’s back as a way of nonverbally telling him to go ahead, they’ll wait a minute to ask you questions so he can have his time with you.

Keigo nodded his head in acknowledgment to the detective as he speed-walked to your room. He opens the door and a feeling of relief washes over him when he sees your eyes open and conscious.

“Heya babe, how ya feeling?” Keigo asks, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t respond though. Not even making any eye contact with him.

There was a pin-dropping silence for a moment before he broke it, “Ah yeah, I understand, you’re probably not doing so well right now.” He says awkwardly, trying to do his best to comfort you through words. Though he was always terrible with his words, so he decided to comfort you by initiating physical affection; he attempted to hold your hand only to fail when you flinched away, eyes flashing with a fear he’s never seen before in your eyes.

A small ‘oh’ came from his lips, pulling his hand away to not accidentally startle you anymore. He figured that something more happened in that alleyway that the cameras didn’t capture, something traumatic.

“Sorry babe, didn’t mean to scare ya there..” Keigo apologized, putting his hands in his pockets, a look of pity rested on his face. He doesn’t like seeing you so upset and troubled, he hates it. “Do you want me to leave so you have time to process it?”

You nodded your head, still steadily avoiding eye contact, “Alrighty then I’ll see ya later my love. Oh! By the way, a detective will be coming in soon to ask you some questions about what happened.” Keigo sees your nod of approval and starts to walk away, closing the door behind him. As he walks by the detective, he gives him a thumbs up, letting the man know that it’s okay to go in there.

He decided to go home that day, after all, visiting hours are almost over sadly. Stress got to Keigo and tiredness quickly consumed him so he went to bed early, and in the morning he’ll finally take you home. He prays to whoever’s listening that you’ll get better soon.

....

As soon as Keigo woke up the next morning he went to the store to buy a bouquet of flowers, a vase, and some of your favorite snacks. He wanted to see you happy again, even if it’s only a small smile. He got the stuff and went to the hospital. When he got there he had a short conversation with the doctor, asking about your well-being. The doctor said that he recommended you some psychologists near the area once you are out of here considering what happened.

Once the conversation was over he made his way to your room, opening the door to find you sleeping. He smiles softly, glad that you’re at least getting some rest. He sets the items on the end table and pulls a chair closer to the bed, resting his head on the edge of the bed while he waits for you to get up.

After a few minutes Keigo starts to doze off, that was until he felt the bed jolt. He lifts his head up and sees you sitting up looking utterly terrified like you were scared of him. “Hey are you-” he’s interrupted by a pillow getting thrown at him.

“Get- get away from me!” You shout, tears streaming down your face, unknowing that it's your boyfriend that you’re speaking to. You’re far too blinded by the trauma, perhaps even PTSD. His feathers quickly got the glass vase out of your reach before you threw it at him.

“Y/N, it’s me, Keigo!” He tries to tell you, but the look on your face didn’t get any better. You weren’t convinced. All you saw was the main guy that led the assault on you.

“No you’re not! You- you are nothing like him!” You stammered, getting out of your bed, shaking like a leaf.

The sounds of the chaos rang out through the door, alerting the other doctors and nurses outside, causing a few of them to rush in to see what’s going on. They see you freeze in place out of fear, hyperventilating and shaking. “Sir it’s best if you step out of the room for a minute.” The doctor advises while the nurses try to calm you down.

“Okay okay, I’ll be going.” Keigo says, not wanting to make the situation even worse. Shutting the door, he rubs his head. “Damn.” He muttered to himself, while he made his way to the god awful waiting room again.

....

“Keigo.”

“Huh? Who’s there?” Keigo looked around, seeing absolutely nothing, not even a single speck of light.

“Stay away from them if you know what’s best for you.” The unknown echoing voice spoke in an almost threatening tone.

“What are you talking about? Who the hell even are you?” Keigo questioned, fist clenching a bit as he got increasingly more pissed. He wasn’t quite sure why he was getting so angry this quickly. It’s probably because that unknown voice was talking about you and he’s a bit overprotective of you because of the recent incident.

“That is none of your concern. All you need to do is stay away from Y/N if you love them enough. It’s for the best.”

“Wha-”

.…

“Hawks!”

Keigo shot up from the chair, wide eyed for a moment before he realized that it was only a dream. A strange dream at that. He notices the doctor standing there, the same one that’s been checking up and taking care of you.

“Yes doc?” He said, straightening out his clothes, getting himself together.

“We managed to calm them down, and we asked them a few questions and it’s clear that their mental state is very unstable. We suggested a mental hospital to them and they agreed to go. It's best if you keep your distance to prevent any further complications with their mental health. I know it’s hard considering they’re your partner but don’t worry they’ll be in good hands. It’s for the best.”

“Well if it’s for the best then I understand.” Keigo says, his mood dampening even more. He was upset that this was happening, upset that this happened to you. Anger boiled his blood when he thought about the drunkies, he hoped for all of them to get the maximum penalty. Hell, he wouldn’t mind if they gave you the death penalty, even though he knew that was highly unlikely.

He heads back home, this time walking instead of flying so that he can take a long walk to get his mind off things. A few people recognized him on the way and asked for autographs which he put on a fake smile and agreed, making small talk. Though during the whole interaction he just couldn’t shake the image out of his head; the image of how you looked at him in the hospital. Keigo knows that you’re currently mentally unstable and you didn't know what you were seeing. Keigo understands this, but it still hurts greatly, like a knife piercing his stomach.

Waving a friendly goodbye to the star-struck fans, he continued to walk home; and sooner than expected, he arrived. Arriving at this home always used to be a joy, but now it’s only lonely and empty. A constant reminder of you. Keigo always tries to be an optimistic person but he just can’t be optimistic anymore when things are so dark and gloomy and everything seems to be going wrong. Especially when you’re the one that's hurt. It hasn’t even been that long since he had seen you acting like your usual self but it feels like it’s been ages.

How long will it take for you to get better? Will it take a few days, months, years? Will you actually be okay by yourself? What did that dream he had really mean? All types of questions run around his head like a carousel. Maybe he needs to speak to someone about this, after all it isn’t healthy to keep all of these emotions in.

All of the sudden his phone dings, it was a text notification from you. Keigo’s heart dropped to his stomach when he read the message.

——————————

My partner in crime ❤️😘

“Hey, sorry about what happened, I wasn’t all there and still am unstable. I’m sorry to say this but, I can’t see anyone the same way again, that includes you. It might take me a long while to recover from this and it’s not fair to you. So I want to break up so that you can move on. It’s for the best, for both of us. I truly am sorry, I hope you find someone way better and stronger than me. You deserve it. I’m going to therapy and working on myself so don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself Keigo, goodbye.”

——————————

“Is this really for the best? Hahaha, so this is goodbye huh? Well, I guess this is just my luck. Goodbye my lov- no, goodbye Y/N.” Keigo says to himself, as the message sunk in; the denial faded and sadness came quickly, ready for the waterworks. So it really is goodbye. Forever. What an unexpected plot twist to happen.

Masterlist

[lovesosweeet]

i have sm fun with my lil polls sorry to anyone who doesn’t care!!!

[piecanl]

Do you think Tubbo would recognize the path Bad is going down, because it's one he's already walked down on?

This self-destructive behavior coming from a broken heart?

He hasn't seen Bad at his best, before the eggs got kidnapped. He's seen him a victim to grief more than a father. It's why the blue staining Bad's being isn't out of the ordinary.

But suddenly he starts carrying flowers to remind him of the love he lost, suddenly the void calls out his name even louder and suddenly Tubbo sees himself in the older demon.

And it's scary, because suddenly he sees what he has become, how it affects others.

And for the first time of many, he sees Bad walk down a road he's paved. For the first time of many, Bad is the one repeating Tubbo's mistakes.

[secretmellowblog]

Another parallel between Valjean and Javert is that they’re eerily silent when captured or threatened.

Jean Valjean being captured by Patron-Minette:

The silence preserved by the prisoner, that precaution which had been carried to the point of forgetting all anxiety for his own life, that resistance opposed to the first impulse of nature, which is to utter a cry….

Javert being captured by Les Amis:

Javert had not uttered a single cry.

The other police spy who’s captured at the barricade— Le Cabuc— is not like Javert, in that he behaves like a normal person. He cries out in pain and anger and fear; he begs for mercy; he prays. But Javert is inhumanly tranquil, and reacts to his death with indifference.

Jean Valjean, when captured by Patron-Minette, is similar. He acts eerily “calm,” and inhumanly “silent.” Of course in Valjean’s case, he has to be silent, because he’s aware that the police would only hurt him if they arrived; his politeness is also a survival strategy. Knowing how to behave in a superficially polite solicitous way to avoid punishment from authority is clearly something he’s had to learn to survive prison.

This parallel feels like another way the trauma of prison has affected both of Valjean and Javert’s lives. Javert spent time in prison as a child, Valjean spent nineteen years serving his sentence— and both of them have now learned to silence “the first impulse of nature” to cry for help. They know instinctively how to behave in situations where they are trapped in another person’s power and have no autonomy. They are able to remain calm and tranquil and even “polite” even when they’re threatened with death.

[elvenbeard]

Road Trip 2/4 🏜️

Absolutely no smoking allowed in the car (cause it's Vince's baby... coffee and fastfood to go are already pushing the limit), but it's important to take breaks anyway when you're on the road for a while, crammed into a tiny, hot space together!

... to enjoy the new sceneries, stretch your legs, and give big hugs to make up for being stupid a little while earlier about something that doesn't even matter in the grand scheme of things.