#i hope we get to interact more before continuing on our separate paths

[boyfhee]

hellooo thank u so much for 2k?!?!?! honestly when i re-started this account, i didn't expect the experience to be better than the prev one ( i didn't even expect myself to stick around for a year, it was my blog's 1st anniv on 22nd ) anyway, i'd keep it short— thank u for reading my works and leaving your feedback, it really means a lot ♡

[tyonfs]

i like me better (when i’m with you)

PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader 

GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff 

WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff

SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio

WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words

TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster​ @steamyjaehyun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!

SOMETIMES, THE AMOUNT OF HATRED YOU HAD FOR JEONG JAEHYUN AMAZED YOU.

To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.

If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.

It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.

It was the annual training camp.

Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?

Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.

“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.

“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”

“I’m fine.”

You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.

“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”

Ouch.

You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.

And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.

It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.

Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.

“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”

You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”

“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”

You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”

Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.

Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”

“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”

“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.

“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”

Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.

“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.

“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.

While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”

You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.

“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”

You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”

“You say that now but we all know—”

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.

You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.

Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—

No fucking way.

You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.

No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.

Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.

You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.

The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.

Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?

No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.

You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.

Literally.

He was standing right in front of you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”

You were falling when you jolted awake.

A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.

After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.

You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:

Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.

Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.

Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?

It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.

You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.

You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?

You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.

Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.

His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.

He was unavoidable.

He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”

“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”

You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”

“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.

He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”

“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”

“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”

“Then keep begging.”

“If you say so.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.

You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.”

He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.

What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.

Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead

Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.

Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.

Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.

“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.

You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”

“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”

“You did. Many times.”

“Just fuck off already.”

Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.

“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”

His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.

He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.

It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.

The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.

But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.

Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.

You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.

“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.

“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”

That voice was most definitely Mark.

“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”

“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”

You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.

You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.

You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.

“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”

“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”

“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”

“Let me in.”

You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”

“You liked it last night.”

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.

You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.

You were a terrible liar.

Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.

“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”

“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.

“Fuck off.”

This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.

The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.

You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.

He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.

The worst part was that you wanted to let him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”

“You’re such a—ah!”

He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.

He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.

“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”

“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.

Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.

“I refuse.”

“Be a good girl and do it for me.”

You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.

Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”

Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.

You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).

“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.

He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”

“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”

Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”

That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”

You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.

“You’re never late,” he pointed out.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”

Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.

Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.

The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.

“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”

You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.

“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”

“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”

“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”

That was news to you.

“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”

So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.

You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”

That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—

Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”

“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”

You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.

And it pissed you off.

“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”

“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.

Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.

You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.

When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.

He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.

“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.

You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”

“You heard correctly.”

“So what am I?”

“You’re Y/N.”

You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.

You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.

Maybe you’ve always liked him.

“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”

“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”

“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”

“Years.”

You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.

“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”

“So you cut me off?”

“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”

“No.”

Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.

“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.

“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.

“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.

“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”

Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.

You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.

You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.

“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”

He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.

“We’re in the water, you idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”

There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.

“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”

Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.

“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.

He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.

He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.

“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”

“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”

Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.

A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.

“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”

“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”

Love? Love?

You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.

But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.

Maybe this was different.

It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.

With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.

Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.

Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.

“You love me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”

“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”

Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”

“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”

“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords—I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You wanted to slap him.

“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”

“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”

“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”

“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”

The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.

“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”

“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.

You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.

It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.

You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.

You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”

Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”

He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.

It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.

Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.

Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.

“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.

In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.

Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.

“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”

Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.

“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.

Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.

You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.

Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.

“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.

“R-right there!”  you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”

Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.

You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.

Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.

Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.

“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.

You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”

“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”

You couldn’t even disagree.

“Sounds good.”

Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.

You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”

“Oops,” he replied flatly.

“I hate you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.

“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”

You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.

“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.

Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”

“Wait, so you were kissing?”

“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”

Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.

“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”

“Let me explain.”

“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”

Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.

Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”

“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”

“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”

“Yes.”

“And this morning before I picked you up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”

Mark gulped. “About that…”

Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.

“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.

“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”

“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”

You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”

“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”

“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”

It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.

“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”

“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”

Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”

“Alright, fuck you both.”

What the fuck even was a date?

This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.

Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.

Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.

Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.

Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.

You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.

He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.

Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.

Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.

Wait—

Were you his girlfriend?

“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”

You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.

Plan B One-Step.

You no longer felt bad for him.

“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”

You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.

Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”

Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.

Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”

You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.

And you never would.

[thewankbankuk]

BRUCE AND CHRIS

TAKE A HIKE

Bruce anxiously hopped out of the car.  He had just arrived at the national park with his best friend Chris and this was the day he would propose to him.

They met on the swim team in high school and quickly became good friends. They seemed to be together for every major event in each other’s lives since then. They won swim competitions together, went to the same college, and Chris was even there when Bruce’s mother passed away.

They dated for a bit in college, but after they graduated life seemed bent on keeping them apart.  They both got jobs in other cities and began to drift away. They would catch up every now and then by phone or skype, but it was never like old times. But Bruce was so excited when he got promoted and was transferred to the same city as Chris.

This hike meant so much to Bruce. It was a chance to not only celebrate his promotion, but it was also a way to really reconnect with Chris, without any outside interference. A chance to express his thoughts, emotions, and dreams for the future.

The plan was they would reach the mountain top right before sunset. Bruce would, of course, get down on one knee and confess his deep love to Chris. After Chris said yes, they would set up a site and spend a beautiful night under the stars.

Everything was going according to plan.  They had been hiking for 2 hours and would soon be at the peak. But then the strangest thing happened.  A man dressed head to toe in rubber stepped out of the woods in front of them. The man had a loose-fitting black rubber body suit on with rubber boots, rubber gloves, and a gasmask. The rubber man didn’t say anything to them, but they could hear the slow deep breaths coming from the gasmask.

Bruce and Chris looked at each other confused. The rubberman then reach out an arm and offered them a gasmask. Bruce and Chris didn’t say anything and began to turn around in hopes of avoiding any further interactions with the rubberman. As they did turn around though they noticed even more rubber men standing behind them.  As Bruce’s relief to finally be alone with Chris, quickly became anxiety that they were all alone in the woods with these crazy rubbermen. What were these men doing out here and what did they want with Bruce and Chris?

Both Bruce and Chris were very strong muscular young men, but there were too many of the rubbermen for them to overpower. The rubbermen were beginning to close in on them fast. So, Bruce and Chris began to run.

Pushing rubbermen out of their way they ran off of the path and into the woods. Bruce was so focused on running away from the rubbermen that he didn’t notice Chris had tripped over a tree root and fell. Giving just enough time for the rubbermen to swarm around Chris.

Chris yelled and Bruce turned around, but at this point Bruce was too far ahead to help Chris. But Bruce could see the rubbermen hold down Chris and force the gasmask over his head. The gasmask seemed to suction itself to Chris’s head, subduing the young man enough for the rubbermen to control him without much force.

The other rubbermen stopped trying to peruse Bruce and turned around and walked towards Chris. They formed a large circle around Chris and they began to breath heavily through their gasmask in unison.

Chris grabbed at the gasmask on his face trying to take it off. But the longer the gasmask was on the more relaxed Chris became. He then gave up trying to remove the mask and instead unhooked his backpack, letting it fall to the ground. He then pulled out his phone and took off his smartwatch. He placed them on the ground and began to violently smash each device with his boots until each was inoperable. Then Chris stood up straight and let his arms fall to his side, breathing in heavily through his gasmask in unison with the other rubbermen.

The rubbermen broke the circle and Chris began walking naked and robotically into the woods as if he knew where he was going. The other rubbermen began forming a line behind Chris and they all marched in unison.

Bruce watch, from a far, in horror and disbelief.  He envisioned his dream of being with Chris.  A dream that he could not let go of.  

He thought out loud, “What the hell is going on?“

” What the fuck have they done to Chris?“

He didn’t know what to do. They were so far from any kind of help. If Bruce left to get help, he may never see Chris again.

So, Bruce began to follow the men into the woods. If Bruce could just get to Chris and pull the gasmask off his face, they could bolt and hopefully lose the rubbermen.

The rubbermen continued to follow Chris into the woods until they reach an abandoned military complex. Out front of the complex were a few men not in rubber but military uniforms and gasmask. They saluted and watched the rubbermen and Chris walk into the complex. They then stood out front of the complex with rifles guarding the entrance.

It was dark outside and Bruce knew he wouldn’t be able to go through the front, so he began to walk around the complex looking for an alternate way inside. He walked up to a side door to see if it was open. When all of a sudden two military drones emerged from the door, grabbing Bruce and pulling him inside.

Once inside, Bruce quickly looked around trying to orient himself. It was a large dark concrete room with no windows. There were hundreds of crates, against the walls, stacked on each other. There was a single light, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, where the drones brought Bruce.

Bruce fought and struggled but it was no use. The drones overpowered Bruce and forced him to his knees. Pushing down firmly on his shoulder to hold him in place.

Bruce yelled out “Where’s Chris?”

“Why are you doing this to us?”

But the drones didn’t respond. Then Bruce heard footsteps and deep breathing in front of him. The drones let go of Bruce and he looked up in fear.

But it was just Chris, standing rigidly, completely naked over Bruce. Chris’s muscular body glistening with sweat. Bruce thought that Chris looked really hot. As the sound, the sounds of slow heavy breathing pulsating from the gasmask still over his head made Bruce a bit excited.

Bruce popped up and hugged Chris.

“Chris, I was so worried. Are you OK?” Bruce said, But Chris simply kept staring straight ahead as if he was looking past Bruce. Chris began breathing even heavier through the gasmask. Bruce tried to look into Chris’s eyes but was unable to see them through the dark lenses of the gasmask.  

Chris mindlessly pointed at one of the drones.  The drone put down its gun and walked over to one of the crates, opening it. The crates were full of gasmask and the drone grabbed one and walked over to Bruce, offering it to him. Bruce knocked it out of the drone’s hand and it fell to the floor. Bruce then reached up and tried to pull the gasmask from Chris’s face, but it was no use. The mask was suctioned too firmly.  It seemed to be fused to Chris now.  

Then one of the doors, to the room, swung open and hundreds of the rubbermen flooded into the room. Creating a circle of rubber around Chris and Bruce.  It was clear there was no escaping.  

Bruce began tearing up as the feelings of dread and despair grew inside him. He shook Chris as if trying to wake him from a dream.

But Chris was no longer there Bruce realized. Chris was just a mindless drone like the rest of them.

However, just as Bruce thought all hope was gone, Chris turned his head to Bruce. The lenses of the gasmask glowed as they looked directly into Bruce’s eyes. Chris then began to gently caress Bruce’s face. Bruce leaned into Chris’s hand and began to profess his feelings for Chris. He told Chris that he had always loved him, that life kept getting in the way of that love, and that he wanted to marry Chris so that they would be together forever.  Bruce shared how he had planned to propose on the mountain top as the sunset.  

In a deep robotic monotone voice, Chris responded to Bruce.

“Put on the gasmask Bruce”. Chris continued, “Everything will be better. No need to think. No need to worry, just mindless obedient bliss”.

Chris briefly paused, “We can be together forever. Isn’t that what you really wanted Bruce?”

Bruce began to cry even more, unsure of what to do, falling to Chris’s feet.

“Pick up the gasmask Bruce and put it on” Chris said. “It’s our only way Bruce!”

“Do it for me Bruce, because you love me. Show me how much you appreciate me, and how much you want to be with me”.

Bruce picked up the mask and looked up at Chris. He wanted to please Chris so badly and show Chris how much he loved him. He knew he would be trap into the collective and this would be his new life from now on.  It was his only way he could be with Chris.

“JUST FOR YOU BABY!”   Bruce replied as he slowly slides the gasmask over his head and took his first deep breath. The mask immediately suctioned itself to his head beginning to fuse with his skin. The gas from the mask began to take affect and Bruce began to relax. He started to hear the voices and commands of the collective in his mind and Bruce felt numb and obedient.

Bruce wouldn’t mindlessly obey the orders of the collective, but most importantly he was overwhelmed with joy when he realized he would from now on be perpetually connected to Chris. He could hear Chris’s thought and share the same mindless bliss. They were finally a unit and nothing would separate them ever again.

Bruce stood up letting his arms fall to his side as the gasmask took over complete control of his mind. Knowing this was where he was supposed to be.  A couple drones brought over rubber suits. Bruce and Chris eagerly dawned the rest of their rubber body suits happily joining the collective knowing they would be together forever.  

[whatupitsastarrynite]

Into The Fire

A/N- Goooooood evening everyone! We hope your week started off great and that your Monday hasn't been too terrible! If it by chance has been.... here is a fic? Maybe it will cheer you up???

Thanks for all the support that you have given @starrynite7114 and myself, we appreciate it so so much and we hope you enjoy our first actual fic together!

We love y'all !!! ❤❤❤❤

You groaned, your phone had been ringing nonstop. You had just finished an on call week and all you wanted to do was sleep. But instead, you were being awoken at six at night.

“Fuck I slept the day away.” You sighed. The ringing stopped and you were grateful for that. But before you could even debate whether you wanted to continue to sleep the day away or move, the ringing came again.

Picking up your phone, you saw that it was Bishop. The club president rarely called you, when he usually did, it was to update you on your father who was serving life in prison. You weren’t exactly sure why your tio insisted on giving you updates when you visited your father every two weeks. But you knew it was his way of trying to keep in touch with you.

You let out an annoyed sigh and quickly hit the answer button.

“What is it?” You grumbled as you rubbed your eyes.

“Finally, look, there isn’t time to explain, but we need your help, now, your Tio Marcus got taken earlier and he’s in bad shape.” Bishop quickly explained.

Your stomach dropped. “Where at?”

“The factory.”

You kept medical supplies in your car in case of emergencies and in the event the club came calling. It was rare since Bishop tried to assure you didn’t interact with Angel. Bishop doesn’t know what occurred to cause the falling out between you two and he didn’t bother to question it, all he knew was that he was going to stay out of it and tried to keep you away from one another as much as possible.

Right now, all your drama with Angel was irrelevant. You couldn’t focus on your shit with him, you could only focus on changing your clothes and throwing on your shoes. You gave the house a once over before you grabbed your keys and all but ran out of the house.

You knew the way to the factory like the back of your hand, you had driven it countless times due to this exact reason. You had always made yourself available to the MC any time they needed a patch up, some medicine or even just an ear to listen to their troubles, you were there. You did everything in your power to make sure that your past with Angel didn’t interfere with you helping your family and usually that worked well because you were able to patch up a guy here, listen to one there, and you never crossed paths with Angel. However, there were times like tonight where you had no choice but to see the man.

You were so deep in your troubled thoughts that you barely realized that you had made it to the factory. You parked the car and jumped out, doing a half jog to make it up to the door. With every crunch that your feet took on the gravel, you inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady your nerves. Despite you being one of the top surgeons at your hospital, you still got nervous, especially when it came to working on family.

You took one last breath before you pushed into the factory. The typical hustle and bustle of dress making was gone and replaced by dead silence. Your boots clicked on the concrete floor as you made your way to the back of the warehouse. You could only imagine the scene that was going on behind the heavy metal door that separated the regular dressmaking world and the cartel world.

You didn’t linger for too long, your eyes scanned the door and you sighed as you pushed it open and made your way into the room.

The first thing you noticed was the vibe in the air, it was tense, so tense that you felt your own muscles starting to tighten up. The next thing you registered was the groans of pain that were coming from around the corner. You sped up, knowing full well those noises were coming from Marcus. As you rounded the corner, Marcus came into your view and you had to stop the gasp from escaping your lips as you took in his beaten appearance.

A movement from your left caught your eye and you turned your head to come face to face with a man that you formed an unlikely alliance with and saw as a friend. His typical suit was gone, and he was in regular dark washed jeans, black boots, a simple back shirt and a leather bomber jacket. His usually perfect hair was messed up a tad and he had a black bandiana in his hands, you followed his movements and realized he was wiping blood off of them.

“I tried to get them to take him to the doctor across the border, but everyone insisted that you would want to be the one to help Marcus.” Miguel said softly. You could hear the MC shuffling around as you shared this tiny moment with Miguel.

“I would have been insulted had I not been the one to help.” You said with a small smile.

Miguel nodded slowly and his eyes flicked over to where Marcus was sitting. His expression changed to a more pained one before he schooled it back to his neutral resting face. Your gaze followed Miguel’s and you looked at Marcus, he had numerous wounds that made your insides twist with anger.

You cleared your throat and made your way over to him. Miguel followed you and as you neared Marcus, Bishop walked over and pulled you into a firm hug.

“Thanks for coming sweetheart.” His voice rumbled into your ear.

“You couldn't have stopped me from coming to help you even if you tried.” You replied.

Bish nodded and you slowly bent down to look at Marcus’s injuries more closely. Your hands shook slightly as you mentally cataloged all his flesh wounds. You examined his hands, cringing when you noticed some nails had been ripped off. His left eye was black and blue, swollen shut and he had a nasty cut on his neck.

You sighed and quickly got to work. Off in the corner to your right, you could feel Angel staring holes into your skull. You cleared your throat again and clenched your jaw as you cleaned out the deeper wounds. Angel hated being ignored, it was a trigger of his, but you couldn’t risk looking over at him and falling into those deep brown eyes.

“Thank you mija,” Marcus whispered.

You looked up at your tio and gave him a half smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I just hope you killed the men that did this to you.” You knew they did, there was no way they would leave them alive.

Marcus chuckled, but it ended up turning into a wheezing cough.

“Miguel made sure of that.” He replied after his coughing fit had subsided.

You glanced over your shoulder and gave Miguel a small smile which he returned.

From the corner, Angel watched the exchange and clenched down on his jaw, physically stopping himself from asking a question that would fuck up the already strained relationship between the MC and The Galindo Cartel. Angel couldn't help the ugly jealousy that stirred in his chest as Miguel hovered over you while your nimble fingers tended to Marcus' wounds. If Angel could put a description on it, he would say Galindo looked like a Pitbull right now, floating around you in a protective manner that made Angel's stomach churn with anxious nausea.

"You good?" Ez whispered from beside Angel.

All he could do was nod, he knew if he spoke then Ez would hear the stress and anger in his voice and he would pounce on it like the little "fixer" he was.

Miguel crouched down next to you, his shoulder bumping yours, and the small contact caused Angel to ball his fists up and turn to look at the worn down wall. He couldn't look at the two of you, not right now, not when he felt a million different complex emotions flying at him from numerous different ways.

"Chill mano." Coco said softly from Angel's other side.

Angel rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he tried- but failed to block out your voice.

"He should be good after I stitch up this last wound here, he needs to rest Miguel." You stated in a professional yet sentimental tone.

You could feel Miguel's shoulder pressed against yours and your nerves kicked up just a tad. Miguel Galindo was a powerful, intense man with perfect bone structure and impeccable fashion taste. Underneath all of that- was a brutal, animalistic cartel leader who killed numerous people in the past.

Ever since Day 1, when Miguel walked into your hospital carrying his trampled wife, you managed to look past his cartel dealings. You always saw him- the man who was family oriented, loyal, fiercely protective and charming. All of your assumptions about him had became more permanent this year, after you spent almost every day tending to Dita's third degree burns.

Shit- Miguel practically hired you as his mothers personal doctor. Still to this day you saw her once a week, every week, to check in on her healing.

"There,” you gave him a small smile. “All better." You whispered as you finished off the last stitch and sat back on your heels. Marcus grimaced slightly, but he already looked so much better.

The elephant size weight on your chest lifted, and you found it easier to breathe now that he was okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Miguel rise to his feet. As you packed up your medical supplies, the cartel leader helped Marcus to his feet. You glanced up at him, making sure he had good balance and could stand.

You smiled at him when he could and you happily shut your kit.

As you went to stand, Miguel stretched out his hand for you to take. You didn't hesitate in grabbing it, and his long warm fingers wrapped around your hand and he pulled you up softly.

"Thanks." You stated as you let go of his hand and brushed off your pants.

"No, thank you. Truly, Marcus wouldn't have survived without you." Miguel responded.

"Please," you began

"Its true Mija. Thank you. I owe you so much." Marcus said cutting you off.

You gave him a half smile and moved to give him a soft hug, which he returned.

"Bed rest." You stated firmly as you pulled back.

"Yes ma'am." Miguel joked. Your eyes flicked up to his face and you took the time to appreciate his rare smile.

"Off you go then," you mumbled, bending down to pick up your kit.

Miguel nodded once more and then with the help of Nestor, he helped Marcus out of the room.

"Thanks for the call Tio." You said as the president came up to you.

"Nah, no worries. Just glad we got you to patch us up when we get hurt."

"Yeah, if you guys could stop doing that, that would be amazing." You said scrunching your face up as you followed your Tio outside.

The rest of the MC trudged behind, and you were silently thankful that Angel was all the way in the back.

Once outside, your eyes watched as Nestor got inside the SUV and drove away. You followed their vehicles for a split second before you turned your attention back to Bishop.

"Are there any other injuries I should know about?" You questioned with an arched eyebrow.

Bishop laughed and shook his head before he pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thanks sweetheart, go home, get some sleep." He said softly as you pulled out of his embrace. You gave him a smile and started to walk back over to your car. You pulled out your keys and fiddled with them for a second, trying your best to avoid looking over your shoulder at the MC.

You sighed as you unlocked your trunk and threw your medical kit. Your fingers gripped onto the cool metal of your trunk and you took a moment to steady yourself before you slammed it shut with more force than needed.

As you looked up from your car your eyes connected with Angel's. Even from across the lot, you could tell he was upset. His face was impassive and disconnected from everything around him. His eyes looked dead, and while part of you wanted to go over to him and hug him, the stronger, more irritated part of you wanted nothing to do with Angel.

He had hurt you-- and it had taken everything in you to leave him, but you managed to do it.

You swallowed thickly and ripped your eyes away from Angel. You could feel your throat closing off and you quickly jumped into the car. You glanced down at your body for a moment before you inhaled deeply and started the car.

You chanced one last look at Angel before you put the car in reverse and backed up. He was shaking his head and listening to something Ez was saying while twisting his rings absentmindedly.

You sighed again and peeled away towards your home. It never got easier when it came to seeing Angel, and the fact that a stray tear had fallen from your eyes and landed on your cheeks only solidified that fact for you.

The drive back to your house was quick, and you barely remembered it due to being so deep in thought.

You groaned as you pushed yourself out of your car, your lower back was killing you, and your feet felt like you had been walking on hot stones all day. All you wanted to do was to climb back in bed and sleep through your entire three day weekend.

As you opened your front door, your phone began to ring again and your body deflated at the thought of another Mayan needing your help.

You pulled out your phone and a wave of surprise washed over you when you saw it was Miguel.

You quickly answered it and tried your best to keep the exhaustion out of your voice.

"Hey."

"You sound tired." Miguel stated.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your stuff off on the kitchen island before you kicked off your shoes and padded down the hallway to your room.

"Yeah, busy week." You replied.

You heard Miguel hum on the other end of the line and the break in the conversation made you nervous.

"What's up?" You questioned, running out of patience.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner, as a thank you for saving Marcus's life."

A you could respond with was a lame "Oh," you froze in the doorway to your bedroom and searched for the right words to say.

"Tomorrow. 7 o'clock, at The Rosa. I can have a car pick you up." Miguel responded smoothly as ever.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. Over the months you and Miguel had steadily become good friends, you enjoyed spending time with the man and loved his entire family. Every time you visited his house you ended up staying for hours, either talking with Dita, joking with Emily or playing with Cristobal.

"Um sure… yeah, that sounds great Miguel." You finally answered

"Perfect! See you then, oh and Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep por favor."

You smiled to yourself and nodded.

"You got it boss."

Miguel chuckled and the pair of you wished each other a goodnight before you clicked off the phone and tossed it onto your inviting bed.

It took you no time at all to strip out of your clothes and tuck yourself into your sheets. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes closed and you drifted off into dreamland.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You woke to the sounds of birds chirping outside as the sunlight peeked through your shades and welcomed the morning to you.

You stretched and let your hand run absentmindedly up and down your stomach while the other hand rubbed the morning crust out of your eyes.

You loved waking up naturally, without an alarm barking at you or your phone blaring arrogantly. You sighed and let both of your arms fall onto the mattress with a soft thump.

Mornings like these were always so still and quiet. You reveled in it, if was one of the few times where your mind was just as silent as the world around you.

You let your arm feel around for your phone and when you found it, you looked at the time and sighed.

11:00 am

Despite wanting to stay in bed, you did have a lot to do today. You had to go to the grocery store, wash your clothes along with your dishes and then you had to go visit your mother's grave and wish her a happy birthday. On top of all of that, you had to get back here and get ready for dinner by 7 PM.

You groaned and checked your messages, a small smile formed on your lips as you read one from Coco.

Coco: Can you talk to Letty? She is out here running around with this boy who is shit. She won't listen to me. Maybe she will listen to you.

You chuckled and imagined the conversation that Letty and Coco had about her new boyfriend. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been successful otherwise he wouldn't have texted you.

You: Yeah I can come over to the clubhouse later around like 8 or 9? Talk to her?

You went to turn off your phone, not expecting Coco to respond right away, but the ding caused your attention to shift back to your phone.

Coco: Yeah, yeah that will work. We are having a party here tonight anyway..sure she is gunna show up with Gabi."

You smiled again and clicked off your phone before you threw the blankets off of your body with a sigh.

"Let's start this day." you muttered to yourself.

It took you no time at all to throw on some comfy athletic clothes.

First thing to do was head to the graveyard to visit your mother.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sat down on your couch and let out a yawn. You opened your water bottle and drank like a dehydrated animal. The cool water rushed into your throat and you loved the way the refreshing feeling seeped through your whole body.

You stroked your stomach again and sighed.

You had to start getting ready, dinner was in an hour and you looked like you just finished running a marathon.

The timer on your dryer pinged signaling the completion of your final load of clothes. You thought about getting them out and folding them, but you didn't have the time, nor did you feel like it.

You finished off your water and pushed yourself off the couch and to your room. You already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and you went straight to your closet to pull it out.

It was a simple dark green dress that had a V neck, and thin straps. It came to your knees and had a small slit in it that revealed your thigh. You decided to pair it with some black heels that wrapped around your ankle and your black clutch that matched.

You moved to your bathroom to do your hair, settling on straightening it. You kept your make up simple yet effective. Dewy foundation, brown eyeshadow, filled in brows with a nude lipstick.

You finished off your hair and make up and took a step back to double check it in your mirror. You flattened some stray hair pieces and smiled at your reflection. You couldn't deny you looked good.

It didn't take you long to put on your dress and heels, and you quickly finished off your look with some gold hoops and a gold minimalist necklace.

You checked yourself out in your full body mirror and you grimaced slightly at the extra weight you were carrying in your midsection, but you couldn't dwell on it, you knew you still looked hot.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock and your timing was perfect as you had 10 minutes until dinner. You walked over to your phone and sat on your bed as you opened your messages.

Miguel- Nestor should be there in 5 minutes.

He had sent that about 3 minutes ago so you figured Nestor would show up any moment now. You smiled at your phone slightly before you pushed yourself off your bed and unplugged your phone.

You checked yourself out one last time before you headed out to the living room to wait. You didn't have to wait long because as soon as you made it to the kitchen, your doorbell rang.

"Prompt." you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You opened the door and came face to face with Miguel's best friend and bodyguard.

"Evening Y/N." Nestor greeted. You didn't miss the way his eyes raked over your form before they snapped back up to your face.

"See something of interest Nestor?" You joked before you walked out and shut your door. You turned to lock it and Nestor cleared his throat.

"Sorry." he apologized.

You waved him off and gave him a small smile. You weren't bothered by him checking you out, it was a silent compliment, plus, it gave you a small boost of confidence and that never hurt anyone.

"The drive should only be about 10 minutes." Nestor said as he pulled the SUV out of your driveway.

"I know, I have lived here my whole life." You joked, wanting to lighten the air between you two. Nestor was always so stiff and you felt the need to help him ease up. You weren’t his boss, you weren’t reporting anything to Miguel, you just wanted him to chill out.

Nestor chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just not used to Mikey having friends. Don't really know how to talk to you." Nestor stated as he looked at you in the rearview mirror.

You shrugged and moved a stray piece of hair out of your face. "Talk to me normally, I’m a normal person you know.”

Nestor huffed, but didn't say anything else. You weren’t normal, not to him. Miguel Galindo was fond of you and you were Mayans royalty. The rest of the drive was completed in a comfortable silence. You had expected to be nervous, going out to dinner with the most powerful man in Santo Padre, but you found yourself calm, collected and excited to see your friend in a more relaxed setting.

Truthfully, you liked him better like that anyway.

"Here we are." Nestor announced as he pulled up to the front of the restaurant. There was a line outside, but you knew Miguel was probably already inside, waiting for you.

Nestor came around to open your door and you smiled as he helped you out.

"Thanks Nestor."

"No problem. Mikey is inside."

You nodded and smoothed out your dress before you walked over to the restaurant, past the line of hungry people and into the door. Your eyes scanned the dining room, but you couldn't seem to find Miguel. You pursed your lips and glanced over at the hostess, she was on the phone but you decided to walk over to her anyway.

"Yes, yes, thank you. Hi! Welcome to the Rosa, how may I help you?" The hostess said as she hung up the phone.

"Hi- um I'm here for Miguel Galindo." You stated.

The lady looked up at you and arched an eyebrow before she schooled her shocked expression back a neutral one.

"Right this way ma'am." She said before she walked off towards a private area. You rolled your eyes and followed her- you should have known Miguel would be in a VIP area.

"Here you are, enjoy."

At the sound of the hostess, Miguel glanced up and locked eyes with you. He smiled and stood up as you walked over to him.

"Hi, you look beautiful. Thank you for meeting me." Miguel said as he came around the table to pull out your chair.

"Such a gentleman and no problem. I'm always down to eat.” You placed your phone face up on the table. “Oh, how rude of me, you don’t look too bad yourself Miguel.”

You weren't lying, the man had impeccable taste in clothing. Currently he was in a light grey suit, with a black tie and matching shoes. His hair was perfectly gelled back, and his beard was groomed to perfection.

Typical.

Miguel laughed and pushed your chair in slightly after you sat. He rounded the table and sat back down, scooting his chair in once before he leaned back and evaluated you.

"How are you?" He asked.

You shrugged and opened the menu that was in front of you. "Good, tired but ya know, what's new."

"Did you not sleep last night?" Miguel questioned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

You glanced up from your menu and held his gaze for a moment before you looked back down at the food selections.

"I did, but I'm a surgeon, I'm always going to be tired." You stated. Your body was always playing catch up with all the sleep you lost over the years, both through surgery and Angel.

Miguel hummed and opened his mouth to say something but the incoming waiter interrupted him.

"Good evening, my name is Ezra, I'll be taking care of you tonight. Mr. Galindo can I start you off with any drinks?"

You rolled your eyes, of course Miguel didn't have to introduce himself.

"Yes, I'll have a bottle of whatever wine is featured tonight, and two glasses."

Your eyes flicked up to Miguel's face and your eyes widened for a fraction of a second. A weight settled on your chest and suddenly it felt a little hotter in here.

"Uh actually Miguel, I'll have water,” you corrected.

Miguel looked at you but didn't say anything, the waiter nodded and he took off to get your drinks.

As soon as he was out of ear range, Miguel turned his full attention to you. You squirmed slightly under his questioning gaze and you let out a sigh before you closed your menu.

"I can't drink okay?" You whispered.

You watched as understanding washed over his face, his eyes flicked to your stomach and then back up to your face.

"I didn't realize you were seeing someone." Miguel said softly. You were surprised at how soft and nonjudgmental his tone was. You had expected him to be harsh, or even condescending, but once again you were taken aback by Senor Galindo.

"I'm uh, I’m not." You corrected him. “I was seeing someone.”

“A shame, what an idiotic man for letting go of such a lovely woman.” Miguel leaned back, pursing his lips. “Does he know?”

“He doesn’t, I’ll tell him eventually, things are just…….rocky.” You didn’t want to divulge further. You didn’t want Miguel to find out you were pregnant with Angel’s baby. It wasn’t the judgement you feared, you knew Miguel saw the MC as beneath him, but saying it out loud meant it was real. That you were pregnant. You meant to tell Angel when you found out, but after you broke up four months ago, it never seemed like the opportunity was right.

You recalled that night then, the fight that broke you and Angel apart. It was a stupid fight, now that you think about it, you got on Angel’s case due to some laundry on the floor. For some reason, that escalated into a huge fight between you two and you broke up with Angel. You weren’t proud of how you ended things, but that whole week had been surgery after surgery, sleep was basically non-existent. Instead of talking it out with Angel, you took it out on him. Despite that your relationship had not exactly been perfect leading up to that week. Angel was always on a run with Adelita, you weren’t exactly a fan of their budding relationship, especially knowing the truth between them before Adelita joined forces with the cartel.

Jealousy, lack of sleep and hormones due to your unknown pregnancy then, it took a toll and you broke up with Angel. Instead of fighting for you, he walked out, he was tired of the endless fights between you two. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you two broke-up since Angel slept with anything that fucking walked. Your Tio Bishop didn’t exactly miss the break-up between you two but he chose to stay out of it. Your break-up had nothing to do with club business, if anything Angel kept his head in club business to keep himself from going crazy after losing you.

Six years down the drain, over some petty miscommunication. Neither one of you wanted to break the deadlock, you were both stubborn as mules, and unsure of how to fix things. You felt bad, you wanted to fix the mess between you and Angel, or at the least, tell him about his unborn child, but every time you had the courage to do so, the sinking dread came along with it.

You’ve been part of the MC since birth. Your mother was no longer alive and your only living parent was spending the rest of his life in jail. You didn’t want to blame the MC of you feeling orphaned since Bishop and Marcus definitely stepped up, but it could never replace a mother or a father’s love. Due to that, you were reluctant to tell Angel about the baby. Being with Angel frightened you because you were afraid you would either be six feet under just like your mother or you would be doing weekly jail visits just to see him. An even worse thought you had frequently was that Angel could be the one who was six feet under. With his impulsive behavior and quick temper, you always feared for Angel's life.

At the same time, this has been your life, the family that has held you down. It was all you knew.

Why did life have to be so fucking complicated?

“Y/N, I lost you,” Miguel shook you softly.

“Sorry,” you gave him a small smile. “It’s just complicated.”

“Is he a co-worker?” Miguel didn’t want to pry, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t curious.

“No, he isn’t, he’s a family friend.” That was mildly accurate. Your family knew Angel.

“Ah, so he’s in the MC.” Miguel wasn’t an idiot, he also wasn’t oblivious, he noticed how the eldest Reyes basically burned holes through him with the way he stared. He wasn’t a fan of the Reyes men, having to deal with the youngest due to Emily and their father who had a weird relationship with his mother. If anything, Angel was the less obnoxious of the three.

“What? What makes you say he’s in the MC?”

“Because I’m not blind, I saw how Angel glared at me.” Miguel chuckled. He noticed how worked up the eldest of the two Reyes’ were. He was a little shit and pushed him further, but he knew he wouldn’t do anything.

Ezra placed your drinks in front of you. You two placed your orders, Ezra quickly brought it down to the kitchen, not wanting to keep Miguel waiting.

You sighed. “Angel isn’t subtle.”

“No he is not, but I cannot say I blame him. You’re a beautiful girl, any man who is near you that is not family would also upset me.” Miguel took a sip of the wine. “This wine is divine, you would have enjoyed this.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in, prick.”

Miguel laughed. “So why have you not told him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“Just haven’t had time.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes at Miguel, begrudgingly drinking the water, wishing it was wine instead. “We didn’t have the greatest break-up and I’m not really sure how to tell him.”

“Angel, I’m with child,” Miguel shrugged. “Seems simple to me.”

“Nothing is ever simple with Angel.”

“You’re scared to commit to Angel.”

“I’m sorry, did you become a licensed therapist in the span of the one day that I didn’t see you?”

Miguel laughed. “I did not, but you’re easy to read. You try to keep away from the MC lifestyle, but you ended up falling for a man that basically breathes the MC lifestyle. You don’t want to end up like your mother, a drunkard that couldn’t handle the fact that your father was put away for life.” It made you slightly uncomfortable how well Miguel read you, how well he knew you, but you figured it was due to your Tio Marcus. “History doesn’t have to repeat itself. You don’t strike me as a drunkard and Angel, as ill tempered as he is, seemed to be calmer around you.”

“Again, how do you know all of this?”

“Your Tio Marcus worries about you. He favored Angel for you, but it seemed your experience with your parents proved to be too much for you and Angel.” Miguel explained. “Can I offer a word of advice?”

“Sure,” you might as well listen, it’s not like Miguel Galindo was the local therapist.

“Do not fear the past, learn from it. You’re not doomed to repeat it if you learn from it.”

You looked at Miguel, your eyes welling up. He frowned, unsure of what he did that upset you.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately fired out, not wanting to upset you.

“No, you’re fine,” you slightly laughed, wiping the tears that had escaped. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Good, it does not happen often.”

“Well, I’m very touched to be fortunate to earn your wise words.”

Dinner went smoothly, which was no surprise to you. Your conversations with Miguel always flowed well and you never had trouble being comfortable with Miguel. You kept a boundary between you two since you knew the relationship between the cartel and the MC was rocky at best. But you enjoyed Miguel’s company, a much needed distraction. He escorted you out of the restaurant, recalling a funny memory of he and Emily when they were still dating.

Unbeknownst to you, Angel was coming out of a restaurant with Coco and Gilly a few buildings down. He looked up and saw you, his heart stopping, clenching at the sight of you with the cartel leader. Miguel was smiling at you, placing a hand on your stomach. All these thoughts ran in his mind, the most prominent one was that you were sleeping with Miguel.

Why else would Miguel be as protective as he was towards you?

Anger coursed through his veins, he couldn’t believe you would sleep with Miguel Galindo. Cheating was a deal breaker for you, it was the reason you two fought as much as you did. You had accused him of cheating on you with Adelita even though that was far from the truth. While he understood your worries, it wasn’t anything like that.

But watching Miguel handle you with such care, tucking your hair behind your ear, Angel almost charged towards you two, but Gilly and Coco held him back.

“Don’t, he would have you sitting on that pew, yellow raincoat and all.” Gilly warned.

Angel struggled against them, but they watched as Miguel opened the door of the SUV for you, waving goodbye before closing the door. He entered his own vehicle that was behind yours and left as well.

“The fuck was that?” Coco questioned, in disbelief that you were with Miguel in an outside setting.

“I don’t know, but I’m gonna fucking find out.” Angel got on his bike, speeding after the SUV that drove off with you.

Angel kept his distance, making sure that whoever was driving the SUV didn’t notice him. He eventually decided to pull over a few blocks away from your place, giving it ten minutes before he would come to your house and ask what was going on.

It’s been fucking hell these past few months. Sure, he fucked the pain away, but it never lessened what he felt. He wanted to speak to you, to make amends, but he couldn’t swallow it. You broke up with him, for something so miniscule. He knew you two had been fighting, he just didn’t think you would leave him. And now, instead of immediately fixing things between you two, Angel restored to self-destructive behavior to ease the pain. Seeing how you were with Miguel the other night, it irked him. He wasn’t sure how he was able to keep his anger at bay then, but it came back up now.

Were you pregnant with Miguel Galindo’s bastard child?

No, that was not possible.

You wouldn’t sleep with a married man.

More importantly, you wouldn’t sleep with Miguel Galindo.

The longer Angel waited, the more he his thoughts grew darker and darker. His anger was building to a dangerous level and some small conscious part of him knew that he he barged into your house like this, that nothing would get solved. You would probably end up yelling at him, and he would end up yelling at you, a lamp might be broken due to it being thrown across the room.

Words would be said that could never be taken back.

Angel gritted his teeth, as much as he wanted to break your front door down and demand answers. He knew he couldn't. But he was spiraling down a deep hole and he needed something, anything, in order to keep his dark thoughts at bay.

Thankfully- there was a party tonight, and a party meant women, and women meant he could fuck his emotions away.

Angel stared at your house for a moment longer before he kicked his bike on and tore out of your neighborhood.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You sighed as your eyes roamed over the MC clubhouse. It was definitely bumping, the party alive and well. Numerous people were outside hanging around a fire, and you knew there were more people inside. It had not taken you very long to change and head back out once Nestor had dropped you off.

Originally, you had came.to talk to Letty, discuss her new boyfriend, but after your conversation with Miguel, you had also decided you would tell Angel you were pregnant. You needed him to know he was going to be a father, you needed him to understand that because of that, he was going to have to shape up.

This baby was going to need both parents, it was going to need to be loved by both parents, taken care of by both parents. Angel couldnt do that when he was fucking around with the club and random women.

You sighed and got out of the car.

You couldnt believe you were here to fix things with Angel based off the advice from Miguel fucking Galindo.

Your boots crunched on the gravel as you made you way to the door. The closer you got, the louder the music sounded. For a brief moment you wondered if you could even do this- but you pushed that thought out of your head and walked your way into the clubhouse.

Your eyes scanned the room for Letty, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Coco spotted you and waved you over to where most of.the MC was sitting.

You pushed your way through the bodies of people and let out a breath once you made it to the guys. They all smiled and stood up to gi e you a hug.

"I couldn't get Letty here.” Coco sighed. “We’ve been fighting more lately so I'm not surprised she didn't fucking show." Coco pulled away.

"Don't worry about it, she's a teenager, you two are bound to fight. Just don't let it linger into something an "I'm sorry" cant fix." You statedz

Coco nodded and took a step back allowing all the guys to give you a hug. The last one to hug you was your Tio Bishop. His hug was warm and welcoming per usual, and you felt yourself lingering in his comfort for a few moments longer.

"Everything okay?" Bishop asked as you pulled away

You swallowed and nodded. Bishop was another person you had wanted to tell, but never found the right time to. You didn't know if he would be happy or angry at you for getting knocked up with Angel's kid, but eventually you knew you were going to have to tell him.

"Uh yeah, actually, have you seen Angel?" You questioned looking around.

Bishop arched an eyebrow at you and evaluated your face before he cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nah, maybe Ezekiel knows." he said pointing over to the bar.

You followed his point and saw that Ez was standing at the bar with his girlfriend Gabi. You turned back to your Tio and thanked him with a smile before you B-lined it to the bar.

"Yo E-" You called out once you got closer to the pair.

Ez and Gabi turned around and when they realized it was you who called Ez, they smiled. You rushed to give Gabi a hug first and then repeated the process with Ez.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Ez asked over the music.

"Funny story- I was supposed to talk to Letty about her boyfriend, but she didn't show, so I'm looking for Angel now. I gotta tell him something." You answered.

"Her boyfriend is disgusting." Gabi chimed in.

You laughed as Ez looked over your head, searching for his brother.

"Honestly Y/N, last time I saw him he was heading outside. Said he needed to use my trailer for a phone call. Figured he was calling you." Ez said.

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Angel using Ezekiel's trailer, your mind floated to all the bad things that he could be doing in there but you stopped yourself.

"Don't fear the past, learn from it."

Miguel's words echoed in your head and you silently chanted them in your head repeatedly.

"Is it cool of I go check?" You asked.

"Did you need me to go?" He questioned.

"Nah- I'm good. Stay here, we shouldn't be long." You lied.

Ez nodded and you turned on your heel to head out to the trailer. You were determined to tell Angel that you were pregnant. You were determined to fix things between the pair of you and you knew that the conversation wouldn't be easy, but it needed to happen.

As you neared the trailer you heart rate kicked up. Your palms started to get clammy and you felt nauseous. You rubbed your belly gently as you looked down at the tiny bulge that was beginning to form.

"We got this little one," you whispered to yourself.

You inhaled and let out a slow controlled breath before you knocked on the door. There was no verbal response, but you could hear the shuffling sounds just behind the door so you figured Angel was in there and ignoring you.

You rolled your eyes and quickly yanked open the door before you could change your mind. You took two steps inside before you heard his voice.

"Yo Ez what the fuck, I'm busy.”

You stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes zeroed in on Angel. From this angle, all you could see was his naked, freshly tattooed back. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you realized there was a woman underneath him. You could hear his familiar grunts of pleasure echoing throughout the trailer and you could smell the unique scent of Angel in the air. Cologne, cigarettes and leather- it all mixed together with the scent of sex and it practically made you gag.

Time seemed to slow down and your blood turned to ice in your veins as you fully absorbed what was happening in front if you.

"Seriously bro get ou-"

Angel looked over his shoulder and his eyes connected with yours, his sentence died and his mouth fell open as he took you in.

The longer you stared at him, the longer your exterior hardened. You felt yourself physically closing off and pulling away from Angel. Everything that you had planned to tell him flew out the window and all you could do was stare at him.

"Shit." Angel said as he pushed himself up off the woman and wrapped a blanket around his waist. The woman let out a groan and pulled another blanket on top of her.

As Angel neared you, you took a step back down the stairs. You didn't want to be near him, shit you should have known this was a fucking mistake.

"Y/N, what, what are you doing here?" He stuttered out, upset at the predicament you caught him in.

The wheels in your head were stuck. You could barely process Angel's words and you didn't even realize you were responding until you heard your own strained sounding voice.

"Nothing, this was a bad idea. I'll let you get back to um. Yeah."

You turned away and practically ran down the stairs and to your car. Everything you had been worried about came to the surface, Angel wasn't mature enough for this kid. He was always going to run away and self destruct every time you and him got into an argument. What if you needed time away from him? Was he going to run off and fuck everything that walked??

Hell probably.

How the fuck were you supposed to tell him he was going to be a father soon when he couldn't even take care of himself?

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t risk your child growing up in a household that was bitter and cold due to parental arguments. You couldn’t risk that trauma and pain being absorbed by your child and causing them to have problems with relationships later down the road.

The more your thoughts spiraled, the closer you got to your car. You could barely make out the heavy footsteps that were following you, you sped up, not wanting to give Angel an opportunity to throw some bullshit excuse at you.

“Y/N!” Angel called out.

You ignored him.

You unlocked your car with your key remote and your fingers found the door handle but just as you were about to pull it open, Angel’s large hand slammed against it and kept it shut. You didn’t dare look up at him, your chest was rising and falling rapidly and your heart rate was increasing to a dangerous level. You knew this kind of stress was not good for you and your baby.

Your baby. Just saying that made your insides churn and caused a new wave of nausea to wash over you.

“Y/N, please give me a chance to explain.” Angel pleaded.

You still refused to look up at him. You kept your eyes trained on your window, and in the reflection of the night you could see he was still naked except for the blanket that was wrapped around his waist.

“Explain what Angel? How could you possibly explain why I just found you fucking some girl in your brothers trailer?” You snapped.

Your voice was sharp and icy and you saw Angel subtly flinch away from your tone. You couldn't find it in you to care though, you wanted him to hurt the way you hurt.

“Y/N..please.” He begged

You finally looked up at him through narrowed eyes. His brown orbs were back to normal and they were mixed with numerous different emotions. You could pick out a few- pain, anger, sadness, but it wasn’t your place to help him through those emotions- not anymore.

“Get out of my way Angel.” You ordered

“No- no, wait just let me.”

“Angel move!” You yelled, cutting his begging off.

Angel stared at you for a moment before he lifted his hands up in an act of surrender. He took a couple steps back and you ripped your door open so forcefully that you could have sworn the hinges creaked.

You threw yourself into the car and slammed your door shut. It took you no time at all to start your car and back out of the gravel lot. You watched Angel out of the corner of your eye and he ran his hands through his hair. He rested his hands on his knees and inhaled deeply before he stood all the way up and gazed at your car.

"Fuck you…" you whispered before you backed all the way out and peeled off.

Your anger was coursing through you at such a blinding speed that you didn't even register that a tall, lanky man with long, wispy brown hair was watching you from his hidden spot across the street.

He hummed to himself before he opened his phone to dial his office.

"Oh the trials and tribulations of love." He muttered to himself.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 13 - ao3 -

The wedding of a sect leader with the stature of Wen Ruohan was, as Lao Nie had predicted, an experience unlike any Lan Qiren had ever had before.

It was also, as Wen Ruohan had predicted, loud and full of crowds, things that Lan Qiren didn’t especially like. Luckily, despite being the groom’s ‘brother’, Wen Ruohan wasn’t requiring Lan Qiren to actually participate in any way, and he was just able to watch from a distance.

He tried not to think of Wen Ruohan’s casual admission that he had, in fact, devised the marriage just to deal with the issues with Lan Qiren’s reputation – and Lao Nie’s concern thereof, no doubt – and reassured himself that the bride was undoubtedly well prepared for her new life and would soon find her footing as the mistress of the Wen sect, where she would more than likely be happy in time.

That was how such things went, wasn’t it? Even with his sect’s notorious tendency towards love-madness, the people like his father, who married for love, were the exception and not the rule…

(He also tried not to think about the fact that Wen Ruohan accepted all the toasts for his wedding using a drinking bowl in Gusu style, painted with a border of vermilion birds, or the fact that, despite Lan Qiren having gifted a set, it was the only one of its kind on the table, leaving Wen Ruohan's new bride to drink from a much fancier gold-gilded bowl – but that was more because he didn’t understand what it meant, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.)

“Did you even get a chance to see him?” his brother asked when they returned, looking coldly disapproving.

“I did,” Lan Qiren said, thinking to himself less of the dinner that they’d shared with Lao Nie and more of the brief moment when the Lan sect delegation been about to leave, a servant appearing and whisking him off briefly back to the family quarters where Wen Ruohan, looking as composed as ever, pressed a too-familiar hand to his head and told him that he was sure he’d be seeing him again soon. “He didn’t say much.”

Nothing his brother would care about, anyway.

His brother nodded, looking unsurprised, and dismissed him, remarking unnecessarily, “You missed the first few days of classes,” as if Lan Qiren wasn’t aware of when each season of classes started for the disciples better than him. After all, Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher one day, when he tired of traveling, and to do for future generations of the Lan sect what his teachers had done for him, and he took it as seriously as he did anything else.

The seasonal classes were his favorite, largely because such classes were open not only to the Lan sect disciples but to certain guest disciples – typically the children of rogue cultivators that the Lan sect wanted to encourage to join the sect, which meant that they had to pass through the same rigorous standards applicable to the usual sect disciples. Lan Qiren had always thought it was a shame that their classes were so limited in scope, although he acknowledged there wasn’t much to be done about it; after all, how many sects would be willing to send their children to be taught by outsiders?

A puzzle for another day.

For now, Lan Qiren made his way to the classroom, taking advantage of the lunch break to settle his things in his familiar seat at the side of the room. He hoped that coming in during the middle of the day would reduce the number of whispers that seemed to invariably greet him these days – luckily much more inclined to see him as a source of information rather than a victim or, worse, a perpetrator – but he didn’t have much faith in it.

“Hey, you’re in my seat.”

Lan Qiren looked up: it was a female disciple. Her face was unfamiliar to him, which suggested she was a rogue cultivator – while men and women lived separately in the Cloud Recesses, they came together for meals and other such events, and despite his introversion, Lan Qiren knew most if not all of his peer group by now.

“Sanren,” he said politely, rising and saluting. “Forgive me, but this has always been my seat.”

She frowned at him. “You didn’t claim it at the start of classes.”

“I missed the start of classes due to an unavoidable conflict.”

“I’ve been using it all week,” she said, and looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating an answer.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say here. “I’ve been using it all my life. What’s your point?”

“So you’re not going to give it up for me?”

Lan Qiren stared at her. “Obviously not.”

She grinned toothily at him. “All the boys give up their seats for me. I understand that it’s a matter of etiquette.”

“Whoever told you that was lying,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I like you,” she said, and crossed her arms – an aggressive posture, although her tone, like Wen Ruohan’s, seemed more amused than anything else. How strange to see a sudden resemblance, when they very clearly had nothing else in common. “How would you know? Maybe it’s in the rules.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Really,” Lan Qiren said, and smiled. “Why don’t we examine that supposition?”

She blinked at him, suddenly wary, but it was too late: if there was one thing Lan Qiren knew, it was his sect’s rules. Learning how to beat people over the head with them on purpose was a more recent development, and he was still working on fine-tuning that – most people started begging for mercy while he still felt irritated, but when they continued listening with apparent interest, as the rogue cultivator girl did, he swiftly forgot that he was trying to make a point and shifted over to actual enthusiasm for the subject.

“Cangse Sanren!”

Lan Qiren’s listener started and very nearly fell over – she’d put her chin on her hands at some point during the discussion of the origin of the rules regarding interactions between men and women, and hadn’t accounted for that when twisting to see who was calling her.

It was a mixed group of sect disciples, with some of Lan Qiren’s cousins and disciples of other surnames that he recognized, plus a few more that were likely rogue cultivators’ children as well.

“Oh,” she said. “You. What is it?”

“I see you got caught up in one of Lan-er-gongzi’s boring rule lectures,” one of the disciples said – one of Lan Ganhui’s friends, with Lan Ganhui himself nearby, grimacing at him in an attempt to make him stop. Lan Ganhui had gotten a lot more likely to leave Lan Qiren alone ever since Lan Yueheng had decided to befriend him, even intervening to make his friends leave off, but this time the other disciple ignored him, his eyes too focused on those ahead of him to pay him any mind; he was smiling intently at the rogue cultivator girl in a way that was clearly attempting to seem charming. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to him just because he’s main branch, you know! No one else does.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” one of the others muttered, glancing warily at Lan Qiren. It wasn’t apparent whether he was concerned about Lan Qiren’s rank, personality, or family connection.

For his part, Lan Qiren just felt tired. He would like to think that they were all part of the same sect, learning the same things, but he knew that wasn’t how the world worked. There were good people and bad in every sect, and the undercurrents that came with any community were inescapable.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl – who had the title of Cangse Sanren, apparently – said unexpectedly. “His explanation is three times more interesting than the stupid learning by rote we’ve been doing so far.”

“Learning by repetition has a long history of being the most effective way of learning something,” Lan Qiren objected. “Even the most unrepentant scoundrel would learn the rules by heart if he had to copy them down for a month, and then when that was done and the foundation built, you could get started on explaining the why of them.”

“But repetition’s not as interesting,” Cangse Sanren said. “I really liked that story about Lan Yi.”

Lan Qiren looked at her suspiciously. He’d never outgrown his tendency to speak in a dull monotone – one of his peers had once compared it to the thudding of grinding stones in a mill – and it was the rare person who actually appreciated the rules the way he did. His teachers, of course, and some of the other more studious disciples did, but even with them he’d be hard pressed to say they actually liked his rambling.

She held up her hands. “Really! I feel like I understand why she put the rule in place now, whereas before it felt like I was just learning the rule for the sake of learning the rule.”

“That’s because you need to learn the rules before you learn the background,” he said. “The rules are a house built without nails, each piece in its place doing its part to maintain the whole - one rule backs another, while being supported in turn. Only once you know what the rules are can you move to understanding the reasons behind them.”

And from understanding to accepting, allowing our ancestors’ wisdom to act as a guiding light that clears the fog from your path, he wanted to say, because he loved the rules, truly and sincerely.

People made fun of him sometimes, thinking him boring or stuffy or overly strict, with no flexibility and too little empathy, saying he was obsessed with the rules for no beneficial purpose, but to him the rules were a gift from the past to the future. The Wall of Discipline represented the accumulated life experience of dozens if not hundreds of Lan sect disciples before him, turned through debate and contemplation into advice they thought would be able to help guide those that came after them to living a good, clean, happy life. As their descendant, how could he fail to honor that which those people, who had loved him without knowing him, had strained themselves to give him?

In just the same way, it was his duty to love the future generations that had yet to be born, to act as the bridge to that unknown future, entrusted by his ancestors to carry to them the rules that would be both his inheritance and his legacy. Those nameless faces dressed in Lan white, unborn children with his brother’s face or even his own, of his cousins and fellow disciples alike, all those souls that had yet to enter this world but who he loved so much already – if he could spare them a single iota of pain through his own experience, how could he not do so, and gladly? How could he not do everything he could to give them everything he had received from the rules, that sense of pride of their history, the strength and wisdom that could be passed down no other way? How could that be a burden?

Lan Qiren had never really had the chance to explain any of that to anyone, his tongue too stiff and clumsy to convey what sometimes he felt could only be expressed in song or poetry, and he did not have such a chance now: as usual, the other disciples were already laughing, dismissing him as a teacher’s pet, overly rule-bound, obsessed with homework and test-taking, a boring old fart whose soul was prematurely aged.

“What’s wrong with being old?” Cangse Sanren asked, her voice flatter than it was before, and the boys in front of her suddenly scrambled to start apologizing so fast that Lan Qiren was left wondering what exactly he’d missed.

“Class is starting soon,” he said instead of asking, though he promised himself he’d ask around later. Surely someone would know. “Everyone should take your seat – no, Cangse Sanren, as I’ve said, that one is mine.”

She grinned unrepentantly at him and stepped back over where he’d kicked his foot out to block her. “You win, this time,” she said, and took the seat next to him with absolutely no remorse for whoever might have been sitting there before. “Watch yourself, stick-in-the-mud.”

Lan Qiren glared, though somehow Cangse Sanren’s teasing didn’t feel as annoying as the other disciples’ usually did. Even if she did make several more attempts on his seat over the course of the day, causing him to have to fend her off or think ahead to evade her latest attempt.

He initially thought that she might try to come to class early the next day to try to claim it before he did, but instead she dragged herself in only moments before class was due to start, face haggard as if waking up at the very tail end of mao hour was the equivalent to rising at yin, although she was back to her regular form soon enough, bright and clever enough to make any teacher fond of her.

This became something of a pattern, in fact – sluggish wakening, intellectual jousting during class and an unspoken competition over the seat that had formerly been reserved for him outside of it. In the afternoons she usually went off with the more martially minded disciples, while he spent his time in the library or musical halls, though at some point she started dropping off random foodstuffs by his door in the early evening as if she thought he was too thin.

“Maybe she has a crush on you!” Lan Yueheng said enthusiastically; bizarrely enough, he seemed to like romance as much as his explosions or his math.

“I think it’s a little closer to treating me like a stray cat that she found and took a shine to,” Lan Qiren said, shaking his head. All the boys in the sect would have paid in gold and jewels for Cangse Sanren to give them a second look, and she didn’t care one whit for the best of them; there was no need for her to go courting when she could get three serious offers of marriage just by winking. “Give them here, I’ll redistribute them to the younger children.”

“You can’t do that!” Lan Yueheng looked offended. “It’s her sincere offering! From the heart!”

“It’s food she purchased in town,” Lan Qiren said doubtfully. “It’s not as if she baked them herself. Anyway, I can’t eat this many sweets without getting a stomachache. What else am I supposed to do with it? Let it rot?”

“Qiren-xiong, you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing,” Lan Qiren said, not taking offense. “Do you want some? Last offer before they’re gone.”

“…well, I mean, if you’re going to give them away anyway…”

He told Cangse Sanren what he was doing the next day, as a matter of politeness in the event that she wanted to stop once she knew what he was doing, and she just laughed – she always laughed at just about everything, he’d found. She didn’t stop delivering food, either, which he might have expected, though she did shift over into items that were easier to distribute.

Their entire mode of interacting was simultaneously very annoying and also not, and Lan Qiren didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do with it.

And then he got his first letter from Wen Ruohan.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loki Series Thoughts—Glorious Purpose

Ok, I’m always nervous about posting my thoughts, but here we go. Spoilers ahead of course!!! (Disclaimer: Any gifs or images are not mine.)

Let’s start out with the episode’s name: Glorious Purpose. I know some people were a bit miffed about the emphasis put on the line, but I actually thought it worked well. It’s not so much that Loki actually believes in this “purpose,” but rather he is clinging to what he’s been told his purpose is. And by the end of the episode, he’s finally working through some of the things he’s been hurt by, abandoning what he’s been forced into and ready to be who he wants. Granted, it’s still going to take some time for him to come to grips with all that has happened, but I’m excited to see the journey.

The TVA. They undeniably suck. Whether or not it will be addressed directly, they are the (or one of the) antagonists in the show. What they are doing is, frankly, tyrannical. Three “time keepers” have taken it upon themselves to force countless versions of time and people into one single stream. And you know what? They can’t control that timeline. Not like they want to. As much as Loki’s line about “the weak” applies to himself, it applies to the TVA, too. It’s a facade of control that they cling to; if they truly had the right, the ability, to control time, everyone would follow their path. There would be no variants. Now, I could write a whole separate analysis on the MCU’s explanation of time travel. It’s convoluted and in a large way doesn’t make sense.

I’d like to talk about Loki’s characterization. I am, in a word, relieved. From the trailers, Tom seemed to be over-acting, something rather strange for someone so good at conveying deep emotions through nuanced actions. Now I believe any exaggerated lines from the trailers are just Loki trying to separate himself from who he’s been told he is, and trying to reinvent himself. I don’t think that’s a bad thing either; they’re not rewriting Loki, he’s just growing in a new way. And though this way is “new” I think it will be similar to what we’ve seen before. From what we’ve seen so far, there is good continuity, and they are addressing things about Loki that should be addressed in canon.

Loki projects. Most notably in the Avengers, but also a bit in Thor 1 and The Dark World, a lot of Loki’s lines can be applied to himself, though he is talking generally or towards another group. What comes to mind is actually something he touches upon again in the series. The illusion of freedom. And though it is not said that line in particular is him thinking of himself, it can be inferred based on his admission that the line in the gifs above apply to him. Also that little gesture when he says “weak” breaks me. He’s hurting so much.

Loki is not a villain. He may think he’s one because everyone else is telling him that, yet we’re already seeing it brought up that it’s not true. I can only hope that we’ll see Loki state this himself later in the series. He was largely forced to do what he did. It is not his fault, so how can he be a villain?

Loki cares. Tom’s acting is just *chef’s kiss* Seeing his mother’s death hurts so much. I love that his first response is denial. Loki is thrown into something he’s never known about before, being shown things that, to his knowledge, have never happened. But then when he’s had a few seconds to wander around the TVA on his own terms, he’s more come to grips with all that’s going on. So, when he’s by himself and see’s Frigga lying there, dead, it gets to him. Then seeing Odin still call him his son, he feels the slightest glimmer of hope, but also regret; he already knows in the back of his mind that he’s not actually going to get that. Loki’s living from second to second, trying to hold on. He probably thinks this ends with his death. (I do have issues with that Odin scene in context of Ragnarok but that’s more a tangential aside, so I’ll gloss over it for now.) Then seeing Thor and himself acting like brothers again is heartwarming. So just when he’s feeling uplifted, Thanos comes into the picture. He realizes how much control the titan still had over his life; he never really escaped. And in the end, Thanos made good on his promise. And that is terrifying! And he laughs at it. It’s a sad sort of laugh, one that’s slightly crazed. Loki feels that no matter what he does, it ends in pain. By the end of seeing all that, he is a man broken. Rather, more broken than he already was.

Loki is struggling. That’s nothing profound; it’s obvious. But where it really stands out to me is actually in a part I originally thought to be out of character. I am referring to “What if I was a robot and I didn’t know it.” Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s actually that his perception of himself has been so thrown that he really isn’t sure about his own chemical makeup anymore. Odin and Frigga keeping from him that he’s a frost giant made him so unsure of himself, he thought he might not even be a living being.

Nervous tics. Was I the only one noticing his leg bouncing when he talked to Mobius? And what about that scene when he’s sitting on the steps? He begins to pick at his hands. Note, that’s something he did in T1 after finding out he was a frost giant and while confessing to the Warriors Four about how he was the one who told the guard of their trip to Jotunheim. Just a little detail I really appreciated. (If anyone has gifs of any of these things, feel free to share :)

Mobius. I’ll be honest, I’m a bit undecided. I’m hesitant to say he’s evil. After all, we haven’t seen that much of him yet. However, I will say he is unscrupulous and manipulative. His questions weren’t to help Loki work through his trauma. Mobius was trying to goad him into helping, and likely was trying to gauge how much this Loki is like the variant he’s tracking. When Loki makes any admission of his feelings, it’s something he already knew, not a conclusion Mobius helped him reach. Mobius mocks him a bit and pushes his buttons because he sees Loki as a means to an end, and wants to know how easily he can get him to work with him. And what strikes me is how similar Mobius’s deal is to Thor’s deal in TDW. Thor doesn’t offer Loki freedom, he offers revenge. Mobius’s deal is just another variation of this. He can’t offer “salvation” but he can offer something “better”. Working for the TVA really isn’t better, though. So what does he mean? Well, I think he means a chance for Loki to prove he’s a hero. I hope as the show progresses it’s addressed that Loki doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. That’s what he’s been doing his whole life, but I want Loki to see for himself that he doesn’t have to.

Miss Minutes. Propaganda. Plain and simple, it’s propaganda. Besides the way it praises the “time keepers” as amazing saviors, necessary to keep the world in order, it’s essentially saying “don’t think for yourself.” The whole point of the video is “the time keepers are great. The TVA is flawless. Trust us to decide everything. You have no autonomy in the world we want, so surrender your free will. Submit to the system we’ve decided is perfect and everything will be just fine.” Of course, by “just fine” they mean the variant will be pruned and the timeline will keep going as the time keepers see fit. The animation style was great though! It really fit.

The infinity stones. I think their inclusion makes sense. If you remember from Endgame, the stones being in the right place in the right time keeps the timeline from branching, and thus prevents the multiverse from being created. Likely, the time keepers used the stones to make their “sacred timeline.” Naturally, any variant time stones would cause a problem. That’s why they have so many extras. But think about how pointless so much of what happened seems. Nat, Gamora, Vision, Tony, everyone who was snapped, everyone who was left. So, literally the entire universe was flipped upside down for paperweights. It really puts Thanos’s pursuit of the stones into perspective, doesn’t it?

The cloaked figure. I think there’s some misdirection going on here in one way or another. Mobius says he’s chasing a Loki variant, then immediately it cuts to a scene with the cloaked figure. Our minds are likely to assume that is the variant then. But they don’t actually say it’s Loki, so I’m inclined to believe it’s not. Though, I don’t have enough information to say who I do think it is, I could make a couple of educated guesses and say Mephisto (he certainly interacted with Loki in the comics, plus there’s the stained glass window) or Sylvie. Well, whoever Sophia Di Martino’s character is. I know she was previously listed as Sylvie on sources such as IMDb, but that has since disappeared. But why would you have a “young Sylvie” (Cailey Fleming) without an older version? There is speculation Di Martino’s character will be Lady Loki, but I hope this won’t happen. If they make Lady Loki her own character, I doubt we’ll see Variant Loki get to be fluid. Even if it’s confirmed on the record, it’d be nice to see actually happen beyond a piece of paper. And with twist villains being such a prominent force in modern media, I’m interested to see who our cloaked friend really is.

Time travel. Like I said earlier, this is a lot. But I can’t talk about the episode and not mention this aspect in at least a little more depth. I don’t like how the MCU deals with time travel. I think it’s an unnecessarily complicated mix of a number of different, already complicated theories. However, I think Loki will ultimately escape from the TVA and create a multiverse too difficult to prune (and maybe he’ll actually get to burn the place down too!) This will then tie directly into Doctor Strange 2. Do you guys know what that’s called? The Multiverse of Madness. Actually, in the Miss Minutes propaganda, they almost exactly say “will throw the multiverse into madness.” Will we get to (finally!) see a certain raven-haired god meeting Dr. Strange? And maybe even the Scarlet Witch herself? Well, I’m not sure, but right now I think it’s looking pretty good!

And some random things that didn’t really anywhere else:

Peggy is in the background?! My thought here is that Steve wasn’t supposed to stay with her. This made not only a Variant Steve, but also a Variant Peggy. We may not see Steve, but I bet he’s been taken care of too!! And who knows? Maybe there will be a cameo later. Otherwise, it might be something that was cut from the show, or just a fun easter egg of sorts.

The score was so good! It sets the mood perfectly.

Loki is a good fighter. Even if he’s overpowered, he finds a way.

Some of the humor didn’t land, but that might just be a personal thing.

So now my final thoughts. It’s their strongest pilot yet. So much emotion crammed into less than an hour. A lot of exposition, too, yet it didn’t feel tedious (Endgame I’m looking at you). And then we get to delve into Loki’s psyche, something that really appeals to me! Overall, 9/10. I hope the rest of the series is as good!

Did I miss anything? Was there something you were hoping I’d mention and didn’t? Or do you have something to add or (politely!) disagree with? I’d love to hear it all! Remember, fandom is a safe space to talk about, analyze, and debate about things you enjoy. My ask box is always open with anon on. Reblogs and comments are great too. Thanks!

Me after watching the episode:

[brynwrites]

Plot progression: points, twists, and hinges.

(And why hinges rock.)

Please excuse me while I assign already well-loved terms new meanings for my own benefit. (This is to say, writing terminology means something slightly different or goes by slightly different terms depending on who you ask. Two of the definitions I use here are based ones that stuck with me, while the third is something I pulled right out of my backside because it didn’t quite fit with my acquired definitions of the other two. Other terms and definitions are equally valid; I’m just using these ones until I figure out how to telepathically funnel wordless concepts.)

First let’s get basic: What’s a plot anyway? Tis a bunch of things that happen to move your character toward something. Usually this something is a goal. Win the war. Find the killer. Survive the winter. Get through the wedding. Kill the dragon.

Plots (should) have important scenes within them which propel them along. A full book that’s just a knight walking on a path for twenty-five chapters thinking about killing a dragon and then finally reaching the dragon to do so it boring. A book about a knight facing random trials that have nothing to do with the dragon she’s set out to kill is more interesting then walking. But the most engaging version of this plot would be if each trial she faced was connected to the dragon killing in some way.

We could, if we wanted to, label each of these trials with terms like plot point, a plot twist, or a plot hinge, depending on how they interact with the story as a whole. (Now I have to define what each of these terms mean to me. I set myself up here, didn’t I?)

We probably all know what a plot twist is. A big reveal. A shocking conclusion. A revelation that puts the whole story into a new light. (Luke, I am your father!)

Most writers will describe a plot point as some version of ‘an event which progresses the plot.’ This is all fine and dandy until you have to decide what counts as progress and how much of it you need for something to genuinely be a plot point. For the sake of this article, I’m going to call it anything that has a noticeable effect on either the ultimate or immediate goal of the story.

A plot hinge is a type of plot point. It can also include a plot twist. But not all plot twists or plot points are plot hinges, because a hinge actively swings the plot in a new direction. It takes the goal the story is set upon, and it rattles that mother-fork until its eyes pop out.

Let’s have some examples, shall we?

A knight is crossing a mountain on her way to slay a dragon.

While at the mountain, she fights a random dwarf. It’s a nice action bit where she’s in peril a few times and at the end, she kills the dwarf and continues down the other side of the mountain. A real page turner. (Spoilers: it’s probably, actually, not.) It’s also not a plot point (or, a plot anything), because the entire segment could have been cut without anything else changing. This whole scenario has no effect on what the plot’s current goal is, how it’s being accomplished, or how we perceive it.

If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight fights a dwarf with ancient knowledge on forging dragon-killing weaponry and convinces him to forge her a dragon-killing sword that ends up being the only reason she can kill the dragon at all, then you have what’s purely a plot point. The goal of the plot hasn’t been altered, nor our perception of it, but we’ve taken an irremovable step towards accomplishing it.

If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight uncovers ancient knowledge that reveals the villainous dragon is actually part of a much larger system of dragons with magical human form, and her own mother was secretly a dragon, giving her dragon blood of her own, this is purely a plot twist. The goal of the plot hasn’t changed, and we’re not closer to having killed the dragon, but our perception of the plot, how our main character fits within it, and what it should mean to us as readers, has been altered.

Pretty basic, yes?

Now imagine that those two things both happen while our knight is at the mountain, but as she’s leaving, the dragon she’s been riding out to face finds her. They battle. Barely prepared, our knight is losing terribly. She tries to flee, making it to the nearest town before the dragon finds her. In order to lay him low, his must use both her dwarfish weapon and her secret dragon powers. The town sees this, and decides she, too, is the enemy. A town guard steals her dragon-killing sword and tries to slay her with it. In a moment of compassion, the dragon she nearly killed helps her escape the town, but every knight our valiant half-dragon once fought alongside now sees her as a monster. And they’re coming for her.

This is a plot hinge. We just flipped out perception of the plot, tackled and crashed right through our main goal, and opened the doors for a new goal that’s still adjacent to our original one (and might still lead back to it by the end of the book—who knows, the villainous dragon might still need to be killed after all).

The trick with plot hinges, is the throw the reader for just enough of a loop to make the story fresh and interesting, without letting them question why the story before and after the plot hinge aren’t separate books. For a plot hinge to work, the plot must be pushed without being torn off the hinges. The old goal can’t be left dangling, limp with unfulfilled promise, and the new goal must build off everything the book has already established.

When done well, though, a plot hinge can turn a “this is enjoyable!” story into one that makes readers go “oh god, please read this, I NEED someone to scream at, I’m literally dying.”

I’m not going to tell you how many of these you should have in any given story. I’m not even going to tell you that you need to have any of them. (That would be hypocritical, as not all of my own stories do. Some are pulled along by simply plot points and twists, and they’re still perfectly enjoyable, if I do say so myself.)

You can also slip plot hinges into side plots, and make cases for what constitutes a hinge in character development. And at the end of the day, there’s a hundred different ways to build tension into a story and engage the reader. This is just the one I’m having fun identifying and analyzing at the moment.

And I hope you can set out and have fun with it to.

(Also, call it by my personal terminology. Pretend I, and I alone, invented a brand-new kind of plot point. Buy my book. Ascend me to godhood. Rebel and kill god-me to take back the world for humanity. Something like that.)

[treblrebl]

Lucifer S6 - A Question of Purpose

Now that it's been more than a month, I'm in a place where I can start to deconstruct the morass of complicated feelings I have over the ending of Lucifer. You know, without devolving into a sobbing mess or screaming an endless series of 'WHYYYYYYY' at my cat.

Truth is - I fully expected a mortal separation between Lucifer and Chloe at some point of time. A traditional happily ever after on Earth was never going to work out for good, and not only because of the whole celestial-mortal angle. The crux comes down to something Linda had pointed out way back in S2:

Lucifer's story is him searching for something, something that he found in LA. The obvious inference might be that it was love and acceptance that he was looking for, and he found that in Chloe, and by extension, the rest of his human family. And while that's not inaccurate, I will say that what he has been searching for across eons, and across generations of human history, is himself.

Lucifer has been vocal and insistent on the fact that the Devil is NOT what he is painted out to be in scripture and religion. But ironically, until the end of S6, he had no idea how to define who he actually is instead. For someone who holds the idea of individual identity and choice as more sacred than you know, literal GOD - he has subconsciously identified himself through others monikers and ideas. He's the Sower of Chaos, the Lord of Hell, the King of Desire etc etc etc. And these may be his parts, but we are not just the sum of our parts. Neither is Lucifer.

What did he find in LA? Freedom - to choose his home, how to occupy his time, who to interact with. People who either immediately, or ultimately, saw behind his title, his money and his facade. And a desire to change, to be better, to find how to be happy. All of which ultimately circles back to finding who he truly is.

And this brings me to the question of purpose. While I did find Chloe's decision to quit the LAPD in 5B noble yet quite hasty, she was bang on about one thing - Lucifer HAS been helping her do HER job for years. His occupation, or time on Earth not spent in debauchery, was spent essentially in service to HER purpose. And for all the joy that brought them (and us as fans), once Lucifer found HIS true purpose, there is no conceivable way to justify him continuing to stay on Earth as her partner while neglecting that which truly only he can do.

Now does that mean a complete separation? No. But the absolute ideal of him staying back with Chloe, raising Trixie and Rory with her and having the family he has been yearning for all the while being Hell's therapist as a day job? I just can't get behind that - since I do NOT think helping souls navigate their guilt is anywhere similar to what a traditional therapist does. We did see it in the third episode - following a soul's source of guilt is often following them through a non-linear confounding maze of their whole life before being able to identify what their key trigger point is. There's no set path, or time period, or process to that.

Also - hell time. And yes, I know this is one of the massively confounding plot points which the writers either hand waved away or hoped 'not the same as Earth time' would be a decent enough explanation. Well, it's definitely NOT an explanation. The show is over and we still have no idea whether time in Hell has a set proportional value to Earth time, whether it fluctuates, or if it is even linear. I lean towards the 'fluid, non-linear' side of things because frankly I doubt the laws of physics hold there. So just taking into consideration there is no synergy between the two planes in terms of time - the conventional 'life' together would anyway not have been possible, with or without Rory and her illogical time-travelling bullshit.

Could they have had the mother of all LDRs? Ideally, yes. It would not be anywhere close to a full life, and would be difficult to time to an exact science. The way Lucifer's spoken of his Earth jaunts, his perception of Earth time rarely was more accurate than to the year. Considering what Joe and Ildy say, this is in essence what happened (if you consider post show writer remarks to be canon which for the sake of my happiness, I will do so).

In the end, it comes down to two people knowing what they're meant to do, wanting to do it, and yet their purposes ultimately pulling them away from each other. Chloe rejoining the LAPD because she finally sees the rot which was hidden behind her idealistic view of law and justice is so true to her character. Somehow, I cannot see Lucifer identifying with that purpose the way he did with her regular job of hunting down criminals. It would be unfair to Lucifer, his growth, and undoubtedly to Chloe. And while Chloe undoubtedly admires his calling and would always be supportive of it - HER true calling is in doing her bit to clear the rot within the institution which is a core part of her identity. Her choosing to be Lucifer's partner in the afterlife speaks true to their love, their respect and their unending partnership. At some point their paths DID diverge - and I don't see how else it could have been.

Does that mean I'm uncritical of all aspects of S6? Bloody NO. Rory WAS unnecessary, even though I absolutely loved all her scenes. Never ever would I have thought I would LIKE seeing the Devil as a father, but well. Although as with most other fans, I wanted to see his emotional growth as a pseudo-parent with Trixie, and I'm certain Rory was meant to fill the space which the showrunners knew would be there due to Scarlett's unavailability. The whole time-travel/time-loop drama is, to borrow from Lucifer's phrasebook, utter bollocks. But where I think the majority of fan despair lies is in Deckerstar being separated AGAIN, life on Earth being deemed an unimportant blip compared to the eternity of afterlife and Lucifer and Chloe respectively being alone for no strong reason.

I agree with all of the points, and won't ever try to justify them, not even to myself. But I guess it's slightly easier for me to make peace with the separation - NOT because 'life is a blip', but because both Lucifer and Chloe's ultimate purpose is such.

And well, they ARE partners to the end.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 12

So I wanted to send out a warning that there is some spicy content. And I needed help from a friend ( @lusciousmalfoy67 ) with the spicy because.... I am ✨nervous✨. It’s there, there’s the warning. Spicy. 

----------------

My scream rang through the empty building, the same building from the vision. It had turned out to be a railway depot that had been foreclosed. 

Derek rushed me inside, “Isaac, grab the chains.” Isaac looked at them, hesitating to grab them. 

“NOW!” Derek roared, his eyes blazing red. Isaac grabbed the chains, handing them to Derek. I was on the floor, writhing in pain. My bones cracked and ached, my back arched off the concrete floor. 

“(Y/N), you have to breathe.” Derek’s face filled my vision, “Just give into to the change.” I could feel Isaac wrapping the chains around my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and my scream turned into a loud, ear splitting roar. 

-

When I woke up, I felt the familiar feeling of my blankets around me. So I had made it home somehow. There was someone playing with my fingers gently, running their thumb over my knuckles. I opened my eyes looking and saw Derek there. He was leaning up against the bed frame, one arm wrapped around me and the other holding my hand. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. 

I inhaled deeply, “I feel okay, only a little bit like I was hit by a bus.” 

“Do you remember anything?” 

“No, I just remember that it hurt. What did I do?” He shifted us so that he was down beside me on the bed. 

“Well, when Isaac was wrapping the chains around your hands you threw him across the room. Then you got up, roared, tried to go outside. So I had to body slam you through a wall, we fought for a while until you eventually knocked yourself out hitting a pole.” 

I nodded, “That would explain it, wouldn’t it. Is Isaac okay?” 

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s laying low at the depot until it all blows over.” I nodded, turning into his body so my head rested on his chest. 

“I talked to Deaton. He said my parents did a spell that would halt the change.” I looked up at him, “It also takes away my memories of anything werewolf related. So... I wanted to ask... Did we know each other?”

Derek took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “Yes, we did. We were friends. I came to see you after the fire, your parents told me to leave you alone.”

Laura waited at the end of the sidewalk that led to the (Y/L/N)’s house while Derek walked up to the front door, knocking hard. (Y/N)’s father opened the door. 

“Is-Is (Y/N) home?” He asked, a slight tremble in his voice. Her father sighed.

“Derek,” He looked up, “Laura,” He looked back to Derek, “We are so sorry about what happened to your family. But we can’t let you see her. And from now on, you need to leave her alone.” 

“Wh-what? Why? What did I do?” Without realizing it, his eyes had turned blue.

“Right there, that’s why. Hunters will see that, follow you here, and destroy our family. We have a good deal with the Argents, you understand.” 

“But... Please, she’s my friend.” 

“Not anymore.” Her father closed the door. Derek panicked, slamming his fists against the door. 

“Wait! I need to say goodbye! Please! (Y/N)!” He shouted. 

Laura pulled his hands from the door, turning him so he faced her. 

“Enough. We need to go.” She pulled him towards the car.

The vision ended and I bit my lip. 

“We left for New York after that.” 

I held my head, “But... I remember you at school after the fire.” 

“The spell your parents did took your memories and replaced them with fake ones. You remember seeing me in the halls, but I wasn’t there.” 

“I can’t imagine how alone you felt, I’m sorry.” I wrapped my arm around his waist. 

“It’s not your fault.” He was looking up at the ceiling, playing with a piece of my hair. 

“It explains a few things. Our interaction at your house when you gave me your jacket makes so much more sense now.” 

“When I saw you there, I thought...Maybe when you got hurt in the parking lot it had dropped the spell, you came to see me. But I could tell that you didn’t recognize anything besides someone you vaguely knew.” He looked at me, our faces mere inches apart. 

“I hope the memories come back soon. Now it just feels like something is missing.” 

“Maybe we can do something to help jog your memory.” He said with a sly smile. 

“Like what?” I asked. He turned so he was on his side, his palm sliding over my cheek. I turned on my side as well, staring into his green eyes. They were bright enough to get lost in. So lost that I almost didn’t realize he was leaning closer, not until his lips brushed mine. And in that moment there was a spark. Not like they zap from static but it felt like lightning surging from his lips to mine. It wasn’t painful, it was like feeling butterfly wings against your nose. It felt like the heat of a bonfire. 

He pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, “Did it work?” I shook my head. Feeling bold, I turned him on his back and straddled his hips. He inhaled sharply, his hands resting on my hips. 

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t try it again.” I smiled, slightly breathless. He grinned and sat up, slipping his hands under my shirt and moving his hands over my back as he kissed me again. Derek’s touch warmed my body as if he were made of fire. Our lips were like magnets, only separating when something came between them. The first was my shirt, then his. Derek broke the kiss, his eyes taking in my body. My cheeks flushed under his gaze. He moved in to kiss along the line of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His lips trailed over my shoulder and across my collar bone drifting down my chest. 

“Is this alright?” He asked softly against my skin. 

“Mhmm” I couldn’t quite articulate anything further. I felt him as he continued moving lower. I gasped involuntarily as I felt his tongue softly flick my nipple which spurred him on. My fingers curled tightly in his thick dark hair as he lightly sucked and kissed my breast. Every touch lit a spark in me, shock waves traveling through my body. Even if my mind wouldn’t remember, it seems my body did. It’s like something placed itself into motion and I was being pressed down into the mattress. Derek hovered above me, one hand propped him up and the other slid down my front, undoing the button and zipper on my pants. He paused again, waiting for my nod for him to continue. I nodded, lifting my hips for him to slide my jeans and underwear off to be tossed to the unknown. My fingers fumbled with his jeans. As I began to slide them off, his breath hitched. He was hesitant... how long had it been since he had....this? 

“Derek, we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.” 

“No, I’m not going to let her ruin this.” He removed the last of his clothing and there we sat for a moment, bare to the world and each other. Slowly, he laid me back on the bed, the softness of the sheets above me and the firmness of his body above made me lose any uneasy feelings I had. My hands ran up his sides and over his shoulder blades. He leaned down, growling softly in my ear as his hand went south towards my inner thigh. I squeaked a little when his thumb brushed the little bundle of nerves. He chuckled, bringing his hand up and licking his thumb. Cocky bastard. 

“All that for me?” He grinned, positioning himself. My hand ran through his hair, tightening my hold and bringing his attention to my eyes. 

“I may be patient, but not that patient. So-” I was cut off by a sharp gasp as he rocked himself inside. Any other time, it had always been a pleasurable sensation but now it felt like there was loud music playing and the bass was making my chest vibrate with every beat. Derek pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes glowing red. The reflection of his pupils showed me that mine were red as well. This was the ritual. 

-

Derek fell beside me panting heavily. My chest rose and fell in rhythm with his. He was laying on his stomach so I could see the triskelion tattoo between his shoulder blades. I turned on my side, tracing it with my finger. He shivered at my touch and hummed. If those dreams from before told me anything, it was that I was on the right path, no matter how hard it was to get here. 

“(Y/N)?” He turned to look at me, his head propped up by his arms. 

“Yes?” 

“I need you to help me today. There’s another person I’m looking at for the pack.”

“Derek,” I sighed, “I don’t think it’s safe to turn more people with the hunters around.” 

“Just come by the hospital with me today. I promise you’ll understand.” I looked at him, thinking if I wanted to continue the Beacon Hills werewolf population. 

“She needs our help.” He sat up, a serious look on his face. 

I nodded, “Okay. Let’s go.” 

*

At Beacon Hills memorial hospital, Derek and I had taken our seats in the waiting area, closer to the treatment rooms. 

“Where did you find this girl anyway?” 

“I heard her ambulance drive by, plus there’s a viral video of her having a seizure and it’s not pretty.” 

I shook my head, “Why are people so cruel? I don’t understand how people have the time or energy to just be that hateful, it must be exhausting.”

“Listen... find Melissa McCall’s voice.” Derek leaned over, whispering in my ear. I closed my eyes, tuning out the voices in the emergency room. 

“It's been a while since we saw you, Erica.” Melissa said kindly, “You were being so good about taking your medication.”

“Are you gonna tell my mom?” 

“Well, I swear I don't want to, but there's this team of lawyers in the back who would break my legs, and I don't know if you've seen my legs, but for a girl my age? They're still pretty hot. So... doctor's gonna be in a minute, okay?”

“Okay.” When I opened my eyes, I saw Mrs. McCall leaving an examination room, placing a chart in its holder outside the door. Derek took my hand, pulling me to the room, closing the door behind us. Derek was looking at her chart that he had taken when we had come out. According to her chart, her name was Erica Reyes. She was a mousy looking girl, her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes were dull, lined by lack of sleep. She didn’t seem like someone who would stick out in a crowd, but one thing could make her the victim of cruel kids. 

She sat up on the hospital bed, looking worried as two individuals who definitely weren’t doctors came into the room. And of course, Derek was an intimidating person. 

“Lie still.” Derek looked over her chart, “Side effects may include anxiety, waking, acne, ulcerative colitis..." Yeesh!”

“Who are you?” She asked, looking between us. 

“Let's just say we have a... mutual friend. You get a warning right before you have a seizure?”

“It's called an aura. It's-it's like a metallic taste in my mouth.”

“You don't have to lie, Erica. What does it really taste like?” He looked at her seriously.

“...It tastes like blood.”

“What if I told you... that all of this could go away? The side effects, the symptoms... all of it. And what if all those things not only went away, but everything else got even better?”

“How?”

“Let me show you.” He started to walk towards her, but I grabbed his arm before he made it further. 

“Erica, before you say yes. You need to understand that there are consequences. If you are not extremely careful, you will be hunted down. If you don’t learn control, you could kill someone. That’s not something that goes away. So you need to think about this-” 

“I’ll take it. I am tired of being the girl who shakes and pisses herself on the floor. I don’t care about the risks, I can’t live like this anymore, please.” She pleaded. I looked back at Derek, he only nodded. She was so troubled and desperate to be normal, something that I could understand seeing as I was someone who became the town’s pity case. But I could never imagine her life. 

Derek stepped up beside me, his eyes red, “Do you want to give her the bite?” 

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” I turned away, “I’ll watch the door.” I walked out and closed the door. The general chaos of the emergency room covered up the sound of Erica’s scream. 

-

The next day was quiet. I had gotten some flack from Scott and Stiles about Erica and interrogated to find out who the next beta was going to be. And in all honesty, I had no idea who he was choosing next. 

“You honestly don’t know?” Stiles leaned against the doorway of my room. 

“Yes, Stiles, I don’t know.” I said, finishing up an inventory for the lacrosse team. He stomped up behind me, turning me in my chair abruptly so I looked at him. 

“How are you so calm about this? Derek is drawing battle lines and all he sees is power. Who does that sound like?” He raised his eyebrows. I clenched my jaw and stared up at him. 

“He is nothing like his uncle.” 

“Ya know, you’re right. He’s not dead like his uncle. But he’s going to be when Gerard Argent cuts him in half.” He said in an exasperated voice, “You and Scott are important to me. You know that.” I reached up to my locket subconsciously. 

“(Y/N), we found out who the other beta is. Vernon Boyd from the lacrosse team and we think he’s turning him tonight. You have to talk him out of it.” 

“I can’t talk Boyd-”

“Not Boyd, Derek. Scott is going to the skating rink where he works, I’m going to his house to distract him if he’s still there. Please.” I sat back. Stiles was right, Derek was thinking about destroying the hunters, fighting fire with fire. He took the death of the omega personally, and I think that Gerard’s purpose of defending Kate’s memory was also a breaking point. I don’t think he realized that he was putting these kids in danger. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.” He said, looking towards the door, “Because Scott is waiting in your car.” A horn sounded outside. 

-

I pulled up outside of the skating rink and shut my car off. Scott looked at me, seeing my hands still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No. Derek made me believe that he was changing these people because they needed it, but now that I know that he’s changing them for a battle with the hunters?” I looked over at him, my eyes flashing red, “I’m pissed.” 

Scott led the way inside, the skating rink was empty. I could remember when my parents had brought me here for a birthday party. Stiles had fallen on his ass many a’time, even when using the walker. 

“Boyd, we just wanna talk...” His voice echoed through the rink. Somehow walking on the ice wasn’t as hard as it used to be. 

“Hey, come on. Boyd, please. Did Derek tell you everything? And I don't just mean going out of control on the full moons-- I mean everything.” We saw Boyd appear from the other sink of the rink. 

“He told me about the hunters.” Boyd said, not seeming concerned at all.

“And that's not enough for you to say no? Whatever you want, there's other ways to get it.” Scott said incredulously. 

“I just don’t wanna not eat lunch alone every day.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. So Derek’s approach was the closeness of a pack. Isaac wanted power, Erica wanted to be adored, and Boyd wanted friends. 

“If you're looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek.”

After he spoke, Derek walked out from behind a Zamboni in the middle of the rink, “That really hurts, Scott.” He looked at Erica and Isaac who followed, “I mean, if you're going to review me, at least take a consensus. Erica, how's life been for you since we met?”

Erica looked completely different than yesterday. Her hair was curled, her outfits looked like they had been taken from a fashion magazine and her makeup...well, she was wearing makeup.

She hummed dramatically, “Hmm. In a word? Transformative.” He let out a roar,  her fangs growing it. 

“Isaac?”

Isaac smirked, “Well, I'm a little bummed about being a fugitive... but, other than that, I'm great.”

“Derek, this isn’t right what you’re doing. You have to know that right?” I tried to find a trace of the man from yesterday but he wasn’t there. 

“I’m doing what’s right for my pack.” He motioned his head to Isaac and Erica.

Scott glanced at me, then back at Derek, “Okay, hold on. This isn't exactly a fair fight.” He sighed. Fighting? I don’t believe Scott mentioned fighting here. But from the stance that Derek held and the energy coming off of him, he wouldn’t step down. 

“Then go home, Scott.” He said in an amused voice. 

“I meant, fair for them.” He said, seeing Isaac and Erica walking towards them. He went down on one knee, punching the ice, sending splintering cracks through it. When he looked up, he had shifted. Derek looked at me and seemed just a little shocked that I had also shifted. He looked betrayed almost. 

“So you’re choosing his side?” He asked. 

“I’m not choosing sides, you’re the one making them.” I growled. Isaac went after Scott, while Erica started towards me. Scott went forward while I went back. From what Derek had said, alpha wounds on betas could be fatal if not treated right, so I didn’t want to hurt Erica. I just had to make sure that I didn’t get hurt by Erica. She swung her claws wildly, I barely dodged each swipe. I grabbed her hands.

“Erica, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“That’s funny, because I want to hurt you!” She slammed her forehead into mine, sending me skidding back on the ice. When I was trying to stay on my feet, Erica kicked me back into the wall. I slammed my back against the glass, sending cracks up the wall. She smirked at me, grabbing my face in her hand, her claws stabbing into my skin. 

“For an alpha, you really are weak. But don’t worry, once Derek realizes that he created the perfect woman, he’ll come to me, leaving you behind...Poor and pathetic.” 

Now that. That made me want to hurt her. 

Say what you will about Derek and I... But I’ll be damned if I let his sixteen year old girl act like she had any chance with him. I could hurt her, I just couldn’t wound her.

I narrowed my eyes and grabbed her wrist, snapping it away from my face. She looked at me shocked, pain in her eyes. Normally, I would feel terrible. But in this cliché way, I wanted to throw her across the room for even insinuating that Derek would leave me for her. She swung her other hand, claws ready to shred through my face. I grabbed her other wrist. 

“Listen, little girl. I think it’s time you need to sit your ass down!” I grabbed her by her neck, throwing her across the rink towards the Zamboni where Isaac had also landed from Scott. 

“Don't you get it?” Scott shouted in anger, “He's not going this for you. He's just adding to his own power, okay? It's all about him. He makes you feel like he's giving you some kind of gift, when all he's done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!”

“Derek, please tell me this isn’t about power. Please tell me he’s wrong.” I plead with him, my face shifting back to normal. I still wasn’t used to the itch that came from the hair growing and leaving my cheeks and jaw. He looked at me, then back to Scott.

“It's true. It is about power.” He walked up to Scott with his claws out. The look in his eyes, that was the same look from the vision. He wanted power and would take down anything that stood in his way. I rushed over to stop him, but he shoved me away as soon as I reached him, sending me across the ice. They began to fight, but Scott was no match for him. He slashed Scott across the stomach, then punched him in the jaw. He sent Scott to the ground, stepping on his chest. Scott sputtered, coughing up blood. I rushed back, grabbing him by the arm and sending him back into the Zamboni. Keeping my eyes on him, I knelt down and looked over Scott who was breathing heavily. He looked in rough shape. 

“You’re making a mistake, (Y/N).” Derek said, cleaning Scott’s blood from his hands with ice shaving from the rink, “A deadly one. Once you realize that, I’ll take you back.” he spread his arms out, “With open arms.” 

“If you ever lay a hand on Scott again, I’ll kill you.” I said through gritted teeth, feeling more pain than anger.

Hurt flashed through his eyes, but he kept the same smirk, “Offer still stands.”

Boyd got down from his seat on the Zamboni where he had watched all of the fighting take place. I helped Scott to his feet. 

“Don't... You don't wanna be like them...” Scott said weakly. 

“You're right...” Boyd lifted up his sweater, revealing the bite mark on his side, “ I wanna be like you.” We were too late. When we were fighting with Isaac and Erica, he must have bit him. I watched as Derek looked back at me before walking with his three betas. They left the arena, the lights going out around us. Scott coughed, his body jerked. I lifted up his shredded shirt. Alpha claws, with festering black wounds. 

“It’s okay, Scott. You’re gonna be okay.” I helped him out of the arena and into the back of my car. I sped out of the parking lot, going well over the speed limit to get to the vet clinic. Hopefully, Dr. Deaton was still there. 

“You’re okay. You have to be okay.” I’m not sure if I was speaking to Scott or me in this situation. But I was panicking. Scott was dying in the back of my car and he is my friend and I couldn’t lose him. Yes, he was a dumb love-sick boy, but he was one of the best friends I could have asked for 

My tires screeched as I parked. 

“Oh thank god he’s still here.” I got out and brought him inside. As if he knew, Dr. Deaton was at the door, rushing me inside. We brought him to the operating table, lifting up his shirt. 

“Why aren't I healing?” Scott panicked. 

“Because it's from an Alpha.” Deaton and I said together, causing us to look at each other. 

“...I think we better have that talk now.”

-------------------

Read part 13 here!

Conflict, lots of conflict. Sometimes people you loved need to be criticized, especially when fighting 16 year olds.

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[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | 

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

 When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

 You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

 “Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

 “Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

 Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

 “Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

 The knock came again.

 “Ma’am?”

 Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

 “You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

 “Good morning, ma’am.”

 You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

 “How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

 “Much, thank you.”

 He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

 “How did you sleep? Any pain?”

 “No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

 Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

 You nodded again.

 “May I begin my examination?”

 Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

 Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

 “And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

 “Not really,” you confessed.

 “As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

 Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

 “Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

 Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

 “Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

 “I am diagnosing it now.”

 You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

 “It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

 “I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

 “Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

 “What kind of changes?”

 “Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

 “Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

 “Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

 “Bed rest?”

 “Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

 You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

 “I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

 “I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

 “God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

 “Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

 Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

 “Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

 Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

 “What exactly do you suggest then?”

 “What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

 “Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

 “Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

 “Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

 “No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

 Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

 Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

 Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

 “I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

 “Two days?”

 The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

 “No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

 Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

 “Fuck.”

 You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

 “I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

 “I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

 Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

 What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

 You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

 “Are you all right?”

 You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

 Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

 “Xari.”

 Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

 “Nika!”

 She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

 “Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

 “I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

 “I don’t get it. How are you?”

 Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

 “Him. He’s how I’m here.”

 You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

 “I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

 “Henry, please, I insist.”

 Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

 Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

 “He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

 You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

 Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

 “Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

 “Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

 “Excuse me?”

 His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

 “While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

 Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

 “Is that right?”

 “Why are we leaving?”

 Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

 “According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

 “I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

 “Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

 “He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

 “Nika!”

 “What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

 “I must agree with Lady Anika.”

 Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

 Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

 You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

 Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

 “If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

 “My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

 Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

 “I bet,” Anika finished.

 “Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

 “Thank you.”

 He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

 “Are you leaving?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

 With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

 “Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

 You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

 “Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

 He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

 “Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

 You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

 “Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

 “Fuck censor.”

 “Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

 Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

 Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

 “Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

 You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

 “What are you grinning at?”

 “You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

 “No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

 Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

 “First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

 “Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

 You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

 “You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

 You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

 “Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

 The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

 A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

 “Hi.”

 You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

 “My god, you are beautiful.”

 You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

 “You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

 She giggled but still looked genuine.

 “I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

 “It’s nice to meet you.”

 “I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

 You smiled and assured her it was fine.

 “How are you doing?”

 You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

 She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

 “Brother.”

 “Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

 She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

 “No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

 Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

 “Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

 You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

 “The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

 “What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

 “It’s okay.”

 “No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

 “Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

 You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

 “Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

 When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

 When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

 “Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

 “I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

 You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

 Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

 “Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

 “No. I’m all right.”

 She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

  ~~~~~

 -Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

 Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

 “Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

 This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

 This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

 “Christ,” he whispered.

 “Are you all right?”

 Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

 “I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

 “No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

 You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

 “You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

 A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

 “Can’t we ask each other?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

 “Liar.”

 His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

 “I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

 “You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

 You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

 He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

 Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

 “Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

 You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

 “So you are implying I look bad.”

 You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

 “I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

 A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

 You looked at him but didn’t answer.

 “I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

 You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

 “Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

 He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

 “Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

 You pinched your lips.

 “Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

 “Today was the first day in just as much time.”

 Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

 You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

 “Thank you.”

 When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

 “You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

 He shrugged.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

 That made him happy.

 “Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

 “Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

 “Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

 Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

 “Dinner is served.”

 The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

 “I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

 He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

 “Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

 You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

 “What was that, your highness?”

 That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

 The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

 “I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

 You paused with your fork in your mouth.

 “It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

 “Clark Kent. Superman.”

 “Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

 A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

 “What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

 He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

 “It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

 He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

 “Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

 He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

 “Oh, this, I must hear.”

 “No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

 He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

 “So?”

 “None of those.”

 “Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

 Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

 He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

 “I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

 Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

 Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

 He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

 “What did—what did you expect?”

 You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

 “I am happy it is pleasantly.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

 “What’re you working on?”

 He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

 The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

 “Want me to take a look?”

 “Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

 You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

 “Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

 He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

 “This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

 “No critique?”

 “How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

 He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

 You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

 You were right.

 “I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

 “Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

 “You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

 He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

 “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

 He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

 He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

 “I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

 “Let me help you.”

 You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time.  When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

 “I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

 “Thank you for this,” you said.

 He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

 “You have my email?”

 “I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

 “Good night, Xari.”

 “Good night, your highness.”

  He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[saphirered]

Hi there! You writings are wonderful. Please could you do an EssekXreader where the reader is from another high ranking den and is betrothed to Essek for political reasons. Both Essek and Reader aren't keen on the idea but eventually after spending time together realise they actually have feelings for each other, I'm thinking a bit like The Swan Princess. Please and thank you.

This is gonna be a two parter as the current draft already exceeds my usual word count limit 🙈 so stay tuned for part two in the next few days! Hope you enjoy 😘

Denial. It must be a cruel joke. Your family, your den they would never use you as a pawn in a bigger plot. This was all just a cruel joke or a move to assure their political advancement without the need to go through with this.

Anger. No. This is real. How dare they? How could they? They would use you like that? Without having the decency to let you know before the deal was made no less! Were it anyone else you’d crush them beneath your boot like the vermin they are for condemning you to a fate not of your own choosing. Perhaps you still might…

Bargain. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could just play your part and go your separate ways. A betrothal doesn’t have to end in a marriage. Even if it does, all that counts is appearances. Beyond that you could still have your own life right? You’d always be able to make the ‘me’ decision and wouldn’t have to take in account the ‘we’. Yes that should be right.

Depression. Your life is ruined! You’ll forever be tied to someone else without your consent. Your decisions will reflect on the many now. You’ll have to watch your every move and every choice or it may reflect terribly on your legacy. There’ll be expectations and can you ever live up to them while still being content with your own life or will you be sacrificing your happiness for something so stupid?

Acceptance. Acceptance…. Hell no!

Time for the first official meeting with Essek Thelyss in the context of your arrangement. You’d met many times before given both of your stations and reputations but now, you couldn’t help but feel a coldness towards the man regardless of what cordial or friendly dynamic you might have had in your limited social interactions.

Your respective families meet. You on your side, Essek on his. Both of you portray the facial expressions excepted of you; indifferent content. Nothing over excited nor anything remotely negative either but you’ve been raised a reader of the people and you could see through the cracks in Essek’s appearance. He’s just as happy with this arrangement as you are; not at all.

“It is a pleasure to meet you here today.” Essek speaks. The rules of engagement have not forgone any of you despite your discontent with this whole situation but for the sake of your watching families you’d play your parts. You’d put on a damn good show.

“You as well Shadowhand. Light be blessed we get to spend it in such magnificent company.” You can feel the approving look burn into the back of your head from your Denmother. They’d be none the wiser.

And so the negotiations began. All be damned if you did not at the very least were able to set some of your own terms in this arrangement. Fundings to sustain your lifestyle or a dowry were the least of your worries. You were more concerned with a place you could call your own, time to spend for yourself, security and stability and the ability to continue your life as is regardless of possible marriage. You would never give up your seat at the Bright Queen’s council and you’re very sure Essek wouldn’t give up his either.

Essek had to admit you played the game well. You’re a killer negotiator. Your persuasive side had shone at the Bastion more than once but those circumstances are wholly different than these. Your ability to make it sound like these ideas came from your den and not yourself, and have them think these suggestions were their ideas in the first place is simply remarkable. Remarkable and dangerous. Respect. But no matter how good of a talker you are, or he is for that matter, neither of you could get out of this.

Afternoon tea, a few lunches and dinners here and there and even a few events you were forced to attend with Essek as your escort under the careful watch of your dens. Whenever you were sure they were out of earshot you did not make it unknown neither of you wanted to be here and would prefer to be as far away from each other as possible.

Then there were the times you swore you might actually be able to like the Shadowhand. Councils held lead to many arguments, the Bright Queen watching the court fight among themselves for a next course of action, fundings to be divided and efforts to be pursued. You always kept a level head not allowing yourself to get worked up, or at least appear you weren’t but sometimes you could strangle the life out of some of these fools.

To your surprise in some of these occasions Essek would take your side and support your arguments, concerns and points brought up in debates. So he does know what’s good for him after all? Those moments were quickly ruined by the next point on the schedule where you’d be at opposing sides again. Usually you’d be able to work up an opponent in debate until their credibility would be questioned but Essek had caught onto your games and was no fool. If you could keep your cool, so could he. You had learned how to push his buttons as he had yours.

After a particularly heated debate the Bright Queen dismissed the dens, done with the bickering and infighting for the day. You couldn’t blame her even though there were still many things unspoken. You and Essek were at odds once more and you couldn’t be happier to be done for the day and head somewhere you wouldn’t be forced to interact with the asshole.

Conferring with your allies, trying to gain support of others, you grabbed your things ready to leave the Bastion. There he floated in the anti-chamber eyes cold focussed on you, waiting. You pretend you don’t notice and keep walking for the exit. Essek calls your name as you’re about to pass him. You don’t respond and keep going. He calls again. No response. He grabs your arm stopping you in your tracks. How you’d hoped to escape this confrontation.

“A moment of your time please.” The words leave his lips with an artificial, well-practiced warmth. Oh you’re fighting so hard to contain yourself but you too had a facade to keep up.

“Another time perhaps. I’ve grown quite exhausted after the day’s events. If you will excuse me.” You smile innocently placing your hand over his secured around your wrist. You pry your fingers beneath forcing him to release his grasp on you.

“Then allow me to escort you back home. Should you be able to muster up the strength to converse on our path I’d love nothing more than to just hear your voice.” Essek encases your hands between his. Eyes of the dens fall upon the two of you in the middle of the anti-chamber. Essek is known to be a reserved individual and these advances definitely stand out.

Oh so that’s the game we’re playing. Asshole move, Shadowhand. Two can play this game. If it’s the company you’re currently in he’s using against you you can do the same. You take a step closer to him standing on your tiptoes and lean in to press your lips to his cheek. You linger just a little and whisper into his ear.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You allow the distaste to bleed through your barely audible words before you pull away and take a step back. You couldn’t refuse his ‘generous offer’. It might make you look bad so you smile bright and nod even managing to call on a fake blush like some lovesick fool. From the corners of your eyes you notice the court members whisper among each other. Good. Let them talk. You link your arm through Essek’s still carrying your things.

“I believe I might have forgotten my transcripts of the day. Would you mind joining me in retrieving them?” So whatever the wizard needed to discuss with you he couldn’t say in public… Oh Essek what a mistake you made… That certainly offers you some opportunities to use to your advantage.

“Nonsense! I have my transcripts. You’re free to borrow them, or perhaps you’d like to study them with me? It might give us the opportunity to come to a compromise without wasting the Council’s time. After all, there’s much more pressing matters.” His expression might be a thankful one but if looks could kill… you’d be introduced into your next life this very second.

You begin leading Essek out of the building not allowing him any response or comeback for your previous statement. You walk head held high catching onto the praises of others. ‘A great match’? If only they knew…

Your walk continued in seething silence from Essek. Until you reached your home. Opening the door and leaning against the doorframe making sure no one else is in sight, you smirk at him.

“I’m curious. If I refused to part with these,” You hold up the transcripts. “What would you do? Would you go back and receive your own copies or would you go without them?” You leaf through the pages. It’s not like you needed them. You already had all you needed memorised so if anything they’d go into your archives for future reference and case study if necessary. Essek doesn’t dignify you with an answer yet so you continue to press his buttons.

“Would you be able to discredit my every word or counter them without the direct word for word reference? Would your arguments hold any weight against my own? Or would you be forced to depend on the vote or Light’s mercy, the Bright Queen’s verdict because if the latter, you’ve already lost, my dear.” You can’t hold back the smugness in your achievements. The look of defeat brought you satisfaction.

Essek bites his tongue. Even he knows that in theoretics you have the upper hand now. Recalling your words from memory alone wouldn’t be enough. He’d needed to cite them exactly providing the transcript in your possession. He couldn’t go back or it might arise questions, questions he couldn’t afford at this moment. What caught him off guard was you offering him the transcript still. He takes it before you can change your mind, the pages disappearing beneath his cloak.

“Luckily for you I’m not your enemy. Yes we might disagree on matters of state but at the end of the day we’re going to be stuck together and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Essek doesn’t know wether he should be wary, outright suspicious, or glad you’ve come up with a plan amidst the chaos.

“A truce. If we keep these antics going it will lead to a war between the two of us. Are you really prepared to be expected to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve grown to hate? Because I’m not. I’d rather sleep in my bed withe the comfort of knowing my partner will not stab me in the back or sabotage me at every opportunity he gets.” Partner. He. Not they. He. So not even you had a way out of this betrothal.

“Resentment grows much faster than affection.” Essek deadpans. Yes he sees your reasonings and you make some solid arguments but that doesn’t mean he has to trust your motives. He’s aware you in your position are much more dangerous than any spy, assassin or foreign force.

“Light be with me.” You’re exasperated. You’re offering an olive branch and this is his response? You pull him inside and close the door dropping the act entirely within the confines of your own home knowing no one will be watching you here.

“I am not offering you an epic enemies to lovers tale! I’m offering to make the best out of a situation neither of us actually want to be in! Marriage is just another contract. We do what is expected of us by following it to the letter and nothing more, nothing less. Love or affection is not part of that contract but respect is.” Essek takes in your words and considers them making sure you’re not twisting things in such a way you could later use against him or to your advantage.

“Your logic is sound and your arguments persuasive.” You raise your hand in an exasperated ‘thank you’ as he straightens your back and looks down at you.

“Very well. We have an agreement.” You’re on the verge of letting out a breath of relief at Essek agreeing to your terms and suggestions. You’d rather be sure this man isn’t going to drop you on a different plane in your sleep once you’ll be forced to share a home. You’d rather know you can trust him to have your back despite your grievances. At the end of the day, you both want to survive.

“Match made in Elysium.” Sarcasm is clear in your voice and the both of you cannot help but smile. More like match made in hell with the ‘letter of the law’ approach to navigating your predicament.

—————

Pacing back and forth fingers pressed to your lips in thought of Essek’s sitting room you ponder the terms of your agreement. Essek himself is seated on the couch leaning over a two sheets of paper, a long list of demands from both sides written on each.

“Next up housing.” You announce. Essek fiddles with the pen looking over the lists.

“I’m not willing to part with my towers unless something of equal or greater value is returned. I need space for my practices, experiments and studies.”

“I’ll agree to part with my own home under the terms you will share your personal resources with me and I will have amicable space for my own pursuits be this here or at another place of our mutual choosing.” Essek considers your terms on this matter. They are agreeable but this is a negotiation and neither of you are refraining from pushing for an outcome to suit yourself best.

“We will share my home then but we will both share our resources unless they pertain to exclusively personal matters or those of state when we inevitably find ourselves on opposing sides in the Bastion.” You stop pacing and turn to face Essek. He watches for your responses.

“I get my own tower.” You counter.

“That’s preposterous. I have need for certain rooms and areas for my studies and cannot relocate them.”

“Fine. Then I’ll get all unoccupied or unnecessary rooms.”

“You’ll get your own private bedchambers, study and sitting room just as I’ll have mine. These chambers will be exclusive and privacy to be respected. Other spaces save for my laboratory, for your own safety, are communal.” By the expression on your face Essek knows you’ve caught him in a loophole.

“Agreed. We’re entitled to our private spaces and will share the unspecified ones. Kitchen, dining room, living area… library…” You caught hime there… Essek’s expression turns sour. He’d have preferred to keep that one to himself but the agreement is fair.

“I wish to make an amendment.”

“Name your terms.”

“Some shelves will belong to my private collection. You will refrain from touching these tomes and scrolls without my explicit permission.” You ponder not entirely convinced. There’s nothing in there for you and Essek knows it. You raise an eyebrow for him to continue and concede on a previously negotiated term for this amendment to go through.

“And in return, you get to redecorate our communal spaces how you see fit, within the realms of reason.” Essek empathises the latter part of his statement.

“Agreeable.” You nod. “Next up; social engagements.”

The two of you go back and forth agreeing, adjusting, and conceding to come to an equal understanding and finalise your arrangement. Over all, it went surprisingly well. It certainly was a nice change of scene to have somewhat friendly negotiations without the added pressure of the dens and the Bright Queen herself watching you.

Essek makes for a good conversationalist and you might even dare say you enjoyed your afternoon setting the terms and conditions. Maybe you could be friends after all. That would be nice.

[angelisverba]

ambrosia

in which y/n hopes to find a loving new home, and faeking!h has a lot of love to give. 

word count: 12k-

pairing: y/n and the Fae King, Harry

warnings: descriptions of a sheep birth (for all the queasy readers, it’s brief)

author’s notes: this was made possible by @moonchildstyles wonder work “athens” (had it not been for that and her I would not have been inspired to write this, and it wouldn’t have come until months from now). i love u linds <333

Y/n woke to the sound of cooing doves startling near her ears,  and the warm feel of sunlight on her bare skin accompanied with a wet snout prodding at her elbow. 

Eyelashes fluttering open, the girl could see beams of sun streaming in through the arching window, motes littering the light that splayed over the stone floors and on the bed where she lay. The branches extending from the tree in the corner of the room had blossomed into a dainty pink flower that oozed a calming scent throughout, and the calming trickle of the stream surrounding the castle soothed her greatly, stroking her eardrums in a therapeutic caressed that stretched all the way down to her thighs, dissolving the sore knots that had formed there from her long walks in the forest. 

She could work with three days, especially if they all started this way. In a dreamy, etheral morning daze that was sure to carry on through the rest of the day.

Beside her was Angus, squealing excitedly now that she rose up from her position, stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied groan. 

“Good morning, Angus,” she cooed at the animal, giggling when he sniffed playfully at her chin. He plopped himself on his hind legs, and lifted his chin up to the sky so y/n could see the rolled up parchment that had been strapped on his neck with a thin, flowery vine. “What’s this?” She asked him, and he only tapped her with his hoof. “This is for me?”

The pig only squealed in response and, y/n gently stroked his warm back before untucking the paper from its place, and breaking the vine with her finger-nail so it wasn’t wrapped uncomfortably around his neck. It fell on the bed, and Angus happily bent to eat it. 

She unrolled the paper, and was stunned by the intricate cursive that was embedded into the rich material. Swooping lines of dark ink taking the shape of old-fashioned script. Y/n could imagine that whoever had written it had sat with a cork-topped pot of ink, and a long, sharp quill. 

It read, 

My lady, I’ll be awaiting your presence in the Courts. Agnus will lead the way.

A small giggle bubbled on her tongue and the king’s formal language. She hadn’t quite realized the different timelines their universes’ lived on. Not to mention, it was also a reminder of the ruling government. Harry was a king, and to have him waiting on her was a… very pleasurable feeling. 

Angus nibbled on her thigh again, impatiently urging her as they had somewhere to be. 

“Alright, I’m going! You don’t have to bite me.” Y/n patted the pig’s head once more, and hopped out of the bed, the soft material of her dress feeling like cool water against her skin. Now standing in the morning light, the shape of her calves could be seen through the material, the soft curves of her hips and swell of her breasts a hidden image; teasing in the most innocent way possible.

Agnus leads her out, his head turning to make sure that she was still following him. He led her down the same path the king took her when he showed her to her room, and even though she had seen it all already, the novelty of such a grand castle still hadn’t worn off. The brightness of the new day showered the stone walls with an enchanting gleam. Flowers had blossomed in the cracks, and tendrils of swirling leaves twisted through the arched windows. 

Harry hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep that night. 

He was overcome with a strange feeling of… deja vu. Even that didn’t begin to cover what he was experiencing. The moment that his eyes had landed on the female mortal that had so foolishly begged for entrance into the Faerie realm, the intense torment of loneliness he had endured for eons had just...sated, almost... relaxing with a sigh of relief. Something inside of him had… shifted. It was something that could only be compared to the righteousness that came with the correct alignment of stars; the balance of nature restored. 

One would think that he’d sleep like a baby because everything that had once felt so wrong was now feeling so right, but no. Not Harry. Harry was amazed and confused and… tentative. All of the many overwhelming emotions barreling in on his immortal body made it impossible to sleep. Instead, he did what he always did when he could not sleep.

He went to the library. 

From dusk till dawn Harry worked himself in the library, sifting through the eons of information that had accumulated to see if he could find anything that explained what in the worlds he was feeling. What had happened. Why a mortal girl had so easily, so pleasantly, been granted access to the fae realm. Why the wings of the newly hatched butterflies had fluttered and gained flight solely for the reason of covering her modesty. Why there was a sudden drop of… warmth* in the people that were known to be so cold. 

Alas, the king found nothing in the volumes he searched through that night. If* there was an answer, he wouldn’t find it that night. Not with the amount there was to search through. His search would simply have to continue after-

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” said y/n. 

His back was turned to her, as he was knelt over a bush of forget-me-nots. “Ah, didn’t I say you were to call me something else?” 

He was dressed in similar robes as the ones from yesterday, except that they were in a lilac shade, and the sleeves cascaded all the way down to his wrists, ending with a white trim. Although his look was more roman god-esque, y/n felt a very 70’s roller rink chic-ness to it. 

“Oh!” Her lips formed a surprised ‘o’, “right. Sorry, Harry.” He then stood up and turned to face her, a soft smile playing on his lips. A cinnamon curl swirled between his eyebrows. 

“That’s right. Good morning to you as well, my lady.” He folded a hand over his abdomen, and bent over in a bow. A king, bowing to her. 

Before she even had time to fluster over his unnecessary actions, he was barreled into by Angus, who had trotted off somewhere to eat his breakfast after leaving her in the tall arch that led to the gardens. 

“And hello to you as well, old friend,” Harry chuckled, and happily scratched behind the pig’s ears, crinkled forming at the corners of his eyes from all the smiling. Y/n noticed that he has a very, very* nice smile and his eyes looked a little less lonely when he allowed himself to grin. Angus snorted happily in his arms, nipping underneath his chin with the same tenderness that he’d used to wake y/n that morning. “Thank you so much for getting our guest to me this morning, I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?” Angus seemed through reply with excessive squirming and licks to his friend’s face. 

Y/n giggled at the interaction. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?” She asked him, smiling warmly. 

“I would surely hope so. Raised him since he was a little piglet, and he’s been my loyal companion since.” He placed a tender kiss on the furry animal’s head. “Angus, my friend, I do believe that is enough love for this morning, do you agree? I have to show our guest around.” With a final scratch, Harry placed Angus on the floor, and clapped his hands together. “Shall we?”

“I would love to.”

    *                                                *              *

                                                  *                                **

They walked away from the castle and deeper into the gardens. Rows of thornless flowers on an endless field of soft grass that was a similar shade of the king’s irises. In the near distance, a river flowed and curved in a circle around the castle, separating the grounds where the people dwelled from Harry’s residence. Y/n found it odd for the king to live in isolation from his people, and she wondered if perhaps there might be conflict in the seemingly peaceful community. 

Side by side, they strolled in silence, Harry stopping every once in a while when his guest became intrigued by the constantly blooming flowers. He wanted her to take everything in at her own pace, and in that moment, silence seemed appropriate. Between the two of them, no interaction, no conversation, was present- because it was not needed. A comfortable, warm quiet atmosphere disrupted only by the soft swish of her dress and his robes against the blades of grass, the distant trickle of water, and the leisurely chirp of birds in the trees that littered the grounds. 

Eventually, they reached the halfway distance from the river and the castle grounds, where a single stone bench resided amongst a circle of sunflowers that were taller than Harry.  

Y/n gasped, “Those sunflowers are so tall!” She ran to the bench and climbed it so both her feet were planted on the smooth surface instead of her bum. 

Harry was still standing just a few steps behind the circle, hands behind his back as he watched her gawk with an amused smile on his taffy lips. He didn’t tell her that he grew those sunflowers, and tended them without the use of his fae powers, to create a private circle where he came to talk to the moon on the nights where he was most lonely. Sometimes, he would close off the open ends- then using his powers- like curtains, so none of the animals or fae people could watch him as silent tears of anguish slipped from his eyes like liquid silver. 

It was indeed, amusing, that she found joy in something that was used in acts of sadness. 

“I’ve never seen such tall sunflowers before,” she whispered, an awestruck look on her face. “They’re amazing.”

The sunflowers grew an inch at her praise, their heads tilting in her direction, like she was the sun. Their leaves stretched out to tickle her cheeks, and she giggled and squirmed at their actions. She didn’t question that it went against all laws of nature, how everything now had a touch of magic. She didn’t know that the flowers had a special connection with their birthgiver, their planter, and shared the same feelings he did. She didn’t know that they reacted because Harry saw her as his own personal source of light, as his happiness. 

Hells, the king himself didn’t know. But, the bond between the planter and his plants ran deep, and they knew the secrets that ran deep in his heart for they were nature, and Harry and y/n were natural.

“Thank you,” He mused, “I planted them myself. Though, they will grow a mighty ego at your praise.” 

Y/n giggled once more, and the leaves retreated back into the circle, and the sunflowers resumed their previous position. “I love it here,” she said to him. She was careful with her words, and her tone remained soft, dreamy. She didn’t know the king that well yet, and although he looked like the absolute gentleman, she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and test him. 

Harry sensed this, sensed her slight fear, and walked into the circle of sunflowers. He took a seat next to where she stood, and patted the place besides the hem of her robes, signaling for her to sit with him. “Take a seat besides me, m’lady,” he murmured.

Y/n pouted like a child at his formal words, and placed a hand on his shoulder as she sat herself down. She didn’t notice the way he straightened. “If I can’t say Your Majesty, then you can’t call me that, either.” 

No one beyond his mother and the water wraiths he sometimes took to bed had taken the liberty to touch him the way she did. A casual gesture, very nonchalant, and it held no underlying motive to it. She didn’t want to get into bed with him with provoking touches, and she didn’t want to get into a king’s good graces with friendly gestures either. She simply wanted to get down and not topple over. 

“Do you not like the term?” He wants to caress the side of her face, brush that single strand of hair off of her shoulder so it lays on her back. Everything and anything tender, and it is strange. Instead, he settled for placing his hands in his lap. Awkwardly. He was all around rigid and tense. 

Y/n, however, does not see to notice this, and she bumps her shoulder against his playfully. “Do you not like when I call you Your Majesty?”

All too quickly, he said, “No, I do not.”

The light air around her goes stale, and she goes stiff like him, too. A crimson shade blooms on her neck. “Oh… well… I just… didn’t want you to call me something formal if I couldn’t call you something formal.” That’s what she gets for trying to play with a king. 

“Very well. Then I shall not repeat it.” He cleared his throat. “I digress. Love, the fae realm is not what it seems.”

She tilted her head, confused. Harry continued, “Every living being residing in these lands will attempt to trick you into turning your life over to them, and my-”

“Harry, are you trying to change my mind?”

“No. I am simply trying to warn you of the dangers you will have to face every day if you decide to live here.” He was scared for her, and anxious over… something that he couldn’t put a finger on yet. The thought of her in danger roused an emotion in him that he could not name. 

“I know the dangers. Frankly, I would rather face them than going back…” There is a moment of hesitation. She is unsure what to name where she came from. It certainly was not home. 

“Was the human realm really so terrible to you?” Harry asked. He himself had only been there once, during a time when a woman by the name of Stevie Nicks had accidentally summoned him during a wiccan ritual. Had it been any other creature, Harry imagined it might have been much worse. But the woman was young, beautiful and kind. She offered Harry hospitality and apologized profusely for her mistake. She had a lovely voice, too. 

“Yes. And I really do not want to go back. When I said that by going back I would die, I meant it. Whether it’s the world that gets to me or…”

“Or what?” The king swallowed. He had a feeling that he knew what she was getting at, and the thought of her doing such a thing...

“Or my own hand.” She stared down at the dewy blades of grass, kicking up her feet so her toes slid from underneath the draping white fabric of her dress. 

Silence and nature yelled. Harry was at a loss for words at her admission. Could she possibly be in so much pain? Would she bring that fate onto herself? He was heartbroken that y/n- who had been nothing but smiles and admiration- could do something so dark and evil to an energy he saw as bright and innocent. He couldn’t- wouldn’t let her do that, whether she went back to the human realm or not. 

“I promise you, you will not meet such an end, dearest y/n.” And if there was one thing the Fae honoured, it was a promise; a bargain. 

Y/n only smiled at him sadly, as if she was merely humoring his attempts at keeping her from herself. Though, she admired the way he was so sure of himself, how he was so quickly willing to help her. It was remarkable how she had found friends in such little time; Angus and Harry. 

“Now,” he clapped his hands together rather abruptly, startling her and causing her to jolt upright from her sad slump. “Let’s bring an end to this somber talk, yes? How about I start showing you around, rather than just sit here?” 

“I’d like that.” She said. “Where will you take me?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up and extended his hand to her; an open palm, an invitation. The sunflowers around them shivered and grew another inch when she finally took his hand, and new stems shrouded from the dirt when the two shared a look. It was almost like… like an entire universe bloomed when their irises locked together, a supernova exploding in their chests in unity.

Neither of them reacted with more than a happy exhale. 

Harry led them out the other end of the sunflower ring, directly towards the river and all the while they still held hands. For Harry, it was the most intimate kind of touch he has ever experienced in the centuries that he’s been alive. He’s never had a serious platonic or non-platonic relationship with anyone other than… well, no one. The male and female beings he often took to bed to experience warmth never gave back the pleasure he offered; never stayed the night, and never caressed him back; never reciprocated the… love. It was highly embarrassing that no one respected him enough to even pretend to care or reflect his emotions in the most intimate setting, but that’s just the way it was (not to mention the fact that Harry started bedding others at the ripe age of one hundred because he wanted to learn how to be an adept lover, and the creatures that would be closely titles 'prostitutes’ in the human realm taught him well. For their own pleasure.)

For y/n, it was the most intimate kind of touch she had ever received from anyone of the opposite since ever. She’d been a neglected child, and the boys at school never felt she was adequate enough for their standards. Sure, there had been catcalls in the streets or in the bars she frequented, but those weren’t the kind of affections she wanted to give back. 

It was safe to say that the experience was electrifying for the both of them. Y/n couldn’t help but feel like a giddy school girl that had just received her first love note in her locker, and Harry wondered what kind of magic this human girl could possibly have that made tingles spread from where their palms connected all the way to his shoulder blade. Maybe, she was throwing a glamour over herself so that she appeared more beautiful than she looked, and was practicing wiccan love spells like that Nicks girl a few decades back… no. Who was he kidding. She was an innocent human girl. A beautiful human girl who had no idea of the effect she had on his ethereal existence. 

The closer they got to the river the taller the grass became and the easier it was to see the creatures that lived within it. A swan and her ducklings meandered down the stream, tadpoles and sparkling fish swam in the crystalline water. On the other side of the moving water, deer, rabbits, and squirrels scurried amongst the various shrubs and trees. It was like something out of a fairy tale book, but even then that comparison was weak. 

She slowed her steps as they reached the edge of the bank, just before her toes dipped into the water because… well, they weren’t prepared to go into the water. Harry seemed to have other plans; he only tugged her further, and did not pause like she did. 

His feet, however, did not dip into the water because the grass and dirt extended beneath their feet, lurching forward in an arch over the water to create a bridge for them to walk across. 

Astonished, she gasped, “Did you do that?” She held onto the large hand that was warm against hers and relied on it to guide her because she was too busy looking down at the bridge. 

“No, I didn’t. The ground did that itself,” he said. And it was true. The ground and nature loved him, and the amount of his magic he spent on it was minimal. 

Y/n was too surprised to say anything else. The bridge dispersed once they stepped back onto firm ground, and y/n let Harry lead their stroll on the other side. She realized that they were now in the non-isolated part of the Fae realm, which meant that any creature could pounce at them like how she experienced when she first arrived. That made her nervous. 

“The ground is- oh, hello!” 

She was about to make a comment regarding the earth’s self awareness, but something nipped at the hand that wasn’t holding Harry’s. Looking down, she sees a lamb licking and sniffing at the tips of her fingers. It was shaky on its legs, and it’s nose was a tiny pink triangle on the snow white wool of its face. The lamb jumped back when she opened her palm towards the sky so it could continue smelling. 

“It is not very nice to bite our guests, lovie.” Still holding onto her hand, he crouched down to meet the lamb and reached out to caress it’s back. “Where is your mother, little one?” 

“It’s not scared of you,” y/n noted. In fact, the lamb leaned into his touch, and similar to the upturning of Angus’ mouth, this lamb’s own lips seemed to smile. 

He shaked his head, “no, I would think not since I aided her mother during her delivery,” he gently squeezed her hand in reassurance that her actions weren’t harmful. “However, they are naturally skittish creatures.” 

The lamb’s mother skips out from behind a brush, preening for her kid to come back from any danger she might be in, until she notices that the only danger is Harry, and really he isn’t any danger. So, she quiets and scurries to his side to receive tender caresses. 

“Well, hello,” he said to her. “It’s been a long time since I have last come to see you, isn’t it? I have brought someone to meet the rest of you today,” the sheep bleated, “Oh she is no harm, I assure you.”

They seemed to understand each other, almost like they were having a conversation. It was intriguing, “You understand her?”

“Yes. As Fae King I am given certain abilities upon crowning day. One of those being the understating of all languages, and this includes all living creatures.” 

“I see.” A shiver runs through her when his thumb strokes the back of her hand. Her toes curl in the glass. It was an intimate touch.

Harry licks his bottom lick. “Would you like to meet the rest of them?”

She’s assuming that he meant the rest of the lambs and sheeps, but the sun-lit glitter of green in his eyes hypnotized her. He was a drink of spring on the last winter night. “I’d love to.” 

The mother then licked at the ear of her kid, and they trotted off into the same bush. Y/n could see that there was an archway in the brush, and through this they disappeared, even though there was no tunnel following beyond the opening. Like a portal. 

“You’ll have to crawl through m’l- love,” his eyes bounce from hers to their hands, and almost as if it saddens him to do so, he lets go of her hand. “After you.” 

She bends down and follows after the creatures through the tunneled arch. It’s a tight fit, but her size made it manageable. Harry had it worse.

His height and broad shoulders made it uncomfortable for him to get through; he nearly had to get on his forearms so his forehead didn’t smear all over the greenery. The lilac of his robes made it hard for him to move, but if he dragged them- and that meant grass stains on his knees- he could get by just as fast. Y/n, too, was experiencing the same issue but she had paused momentarily to tie to fabric in a knot above her thighs, and Harry… well, Harry was trying really hard not to look because he knew it’d be disrespectful. 

The passage twisted and turned, and it was unclear where they were going because the turns were sharp. The only thing visible ahead was the curved wall of greenery beyond the quaint trotting of the sheep and her child. Eventually, they turned one last time and a series of ‘baa’s greeted them behind a circle of opening light. 

Behind her, Harry chuckled. The heat of his breath spanned across her ankles and the soles of her feet like a blanket. She had not realized he was that close to her. 

Y/n and Harry hadn’t been in the tunnel for more than two minutes, but it was amusing to see him arch his back in a stretch and pointless try and wipe away at the dirt and grass stain on the lilac fabric covering his knees. 

Instantly he was surrounded by a flurry of white clouds that bleated and licked at him. 

“Oh my. Hello- Ladies, please! Ow, Ruby we talked about tha- okay okay,” He was protesting, sure, but he was also laughing. It was the widest Y/n had seen him smile. He was… happy.

There was an sense of home and right to the picture he presented. A gleeful king surrounded by creatures that adored him (there was no doubt why the way they licked at him, and the Angus-like smiles on their faces as they looked up at him). Harry was not isolated here. 

Here. Wherever this here was. 

It was different from the Fae realm. The ground was softer than the dirt that occupied the space between her toes before, and it was a lighter shade of green. The color of Harry’s eyes when the sunlight cut through the iris from the side. It sloped up and down like the valleys of the Fae village, but there were no homes, and it centered around a heart shaped pool of crystalline water. The sky was the closest thing to strange- out all things, this is what y/n found strange- about it all. It was a cotton candy pink color; a solid shade that didn’t suggest a fading of the sun even though there was a white spherical object in the 5’oclock position. 

They- Harry, y/n, and the few lambs that had come to greet him- stood atop one of the crests around the heart-shaped pool. 

“Welcome to the Land of Nurture.” He said, breaking her out of her dream. He held the tiniest- tinier than the one that had nipped at her palm- of the lambs she had seen yet in his arms, and it was asleep. “This is where the woodland creatures come to birth and nurture their young. I spend quite a lot of time here, helping with the births.” 

At the sound of Harry’s voice and it not being directed towards them in praise, the lambs turn to see what- or who is the object of his attention. Many of them are curious to greet the human woman, but a few stick to his side, rubbing back into his loving hands. 

Through that magical bond, Harry caught onto an unusual request. The sheep, they wanted… they wanted y/n to oversee a birth. The ‘midwife’ of the lands spoke to him,

Harry, we’ve never had a woman here before. Let her femininity bless a birth? One will birth tonight, and her hands as much as yours are needed. 

“H-harry?” Harry looks up from the wise sheep at his feet to the anxious voice that calls him name. 

The lambs at y/n’s feet had gotten a hold of the cotton at the hem of her dress with their mouths, and were tugging her, leading her to a place that she didn’t know. The fact that they were leading her away to some unknown destination wasn’t what made her nervous, no. What made her nervous was the fact that they were leading her away and Harry wasn’t with her. She was unprotected. 

She had taken a few steps with the pull of animals. “Harry?”

He was at her side in seconds, the fluffy creatures parting like the sea to allow him to get closer to y/n. “They want to take you to the birthing grounds. There is a lamb that will go into labor soon, and the rest wish for you to be there during the birth. They say they would like your… blessing.”

The lambs, like the sunflowers, knew more than the Fae King did about his feelings. 

Her jaw drops in surprise and her eyebrows furrow. “Wha- me? But what can I do?”  At her hesitation, the lambs still and wait, looking up at their king for his jurisdiction.

The lamb in Harry’s arms nuzzles into the crook of his elbow, and he saddens at the fact that he cannot take y/n’s hand without waking him up (it was the son of one of the feistiest sheep). “Your presence is all they require.” They lock eyes, and immediately her unease is dissolved. There was Harry, and with Harry everything felt… right. He smiles softly at her, his features melting because he felt it, too. 

Remembering that he had a job to do, he looks back down at the awaiting creatures, and says, “Let’s be gentle, yeah, lovies? We’re not going anywhere,” he cooed. 

A chorus of bleats responded, and the babes let go of y/n’s cotton dress. They trot away, their tails flicking and heads turning back to make sure they’re being followed by Harry and his guest, who looks around, amazed at the change of scenery. Slowly, the rosy tone of the sky was melting into a serene shade of red, and the white orb of light was dimming, it’s positions growing smaller, like a light slowly going out. 

“Is that the sun?” She asked. 

Harry laughed, “No. It acts more like a heating lamp, and it fades away to replicate the night, so the animals huddle together for warmth until it… turns back on again. The color of the sky is connected towards menstruation and placenta; blood, a symbol of females and fertility.”

“That’s a beautiful meaning,” she mumbled. The ground on which the lambs walked on was so fresh and healthy-looking, a bright shade of green, that almost looked artificial. “So, is this another… realm?” 

He had to bite on his lip to keep from shouting endearments at her. She was smart, bright, curious, and Harry loved the way that she was right on track, a few steps behind, but she understood. “I suppose you could call it that. Although, it is more like a pocket in the Fae realm, a singular realm on itself entirely. It is a space where mother’s can come to have their children safely. This pocket belongs to the sheep. There are others for other animals, and even one for the Fae.”

“Do… Do other Fae come here?”

He shook his head. “No. No, they are not trusted.” Even he, at first try, was not trusted. It took him three days of sitting underneath a large oak tree, watching and letting the sheep sniff him, in order to let him pet them. Another two months for them to let him through. Why Harry wanted to become a part of their society, Harry himself could not tell you, but in reality, he yearned for their tenderness. He watched the way the animals loved each other, and deep down, he wanted their affection, too, because it wasn't something he was getting from his people. 

“And they trust you?” They were beginning to descend the hill, when two large rectangular rocks spaced about ten-feet away from each other sprouted from the ground without so much as a rumble. The animals thought nothing of this, and walked right through the space between the rocks, the image of the grassy land rippling as if a drop of water had just hit a pond’s surface. Another portal.

Y/n is only slightly fazed, and the halt in her step lasts a second. If Harry is going through it, then she would, too.

“Yes. It took me months to get them to trust me, but I would do it all over again for their company.” 

Their company? Harry was a king and he was looking for company among animals? 

“Prepare for warmth when we pass those stones,” he said, “The cave replicates the coziness of a womb to make it easier for a newborn to transition to the world.” At this point the lamb in his arms stirred and began to bleat in his arms, to which Harry shushed quietly and patted to silence. 

Y/n subtly crept closer to Harry, the head of the lamb that laid on the bend of his elbow brushed against her arm. Walking between the stone walls was similar to the time she walked through the portal; the similar consuming sensation, only it was accompanied by immense heat, almost suffocating. Not the type that made you sweat, but the kind that put you to sleep. A blanket of warmth, just like he had described. A dull, but concentrated, heat rolled over her skin like a fitted membrane. It was comforting and hazy.

Upon first walking in she was more focused on the feeling than her surroundings. She shut her eyes and took a waking breather before opening them and noticing that, again, just like Harry said, they were in a cave. The walls were a vein-y, papery texture- like when you shine a flashlight through a chicken’s egg and can see the embryo in a shadowy red silhouette. Lambs were sleeping in curled piles on top of each other so they looked like tufts of cotton clouds. There was a crackling fire in the middle of the large cavern that added to the source of heat, and the brightness of the papery walls suggested that there was a light source coming from the outside. 

A nervous ‘baa’ called out to Harry. In the far corner there was an isolated circle of space where a sheep lay on her side, her legs stiff in pain. The only ram present was next to her, nudging his horns against her womb (not in aggression, but in concern). He must’ve been her mate.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re almost there,” Harry cooed. He put down the lamb he held in his arms into the pile of nestled clouds. “Go, on. Keep pushing, you can do it.” He’s quick to kneel at the sheep’s side, and rub down her belly in encouraging strokes. The female gives another strangled cry when Harry looks up at a horrified y/n. “Come, my dear. It’s all right.” He said, summoning her with an outstretched hand. 

“I know I’m supposed to be helping, b-but it really looks like she’s in pain,” her voice is wobbly, and she’s fidgety, not knowing what to do with herself. It’s a relief when Harry offers physical touch, almost like he knew that it put out whatever fire of anxiety burned in her heart. She took his hand and knelt besides him. 

He nodded. “She is experiencing labor, and with that comes the pain.” The sheep’s lower half contracted, and her legs stiffened, a pained bleat escaping her. “Being a mother is not an easy task, from the start.” With a soothing hand, Harry patted her belly softly. A sheen of sweat settled on his forehead, his eyes darting, assessing the animal’s pain. 

“What can I do to help?” Her hand grew sweaty in Harry’s grip, and she was worried that he would grow repulsed and let go, but he only squeezed reassuringly. There was a moment of silence, even the mother sheep took a break from labor pains and took deep breaths. 

“Nothing, yet. Your presence itself is calming. If there are issues during the labor, then we step in. Otherwise, we are only to oversee and let nature take its course.” 

Y/n nodded, and that was it for speaking until the sheep began to cry out again. Harry didn’t say anything either. He was too busy trying to comfort, trying to soothe, not at all surprised or disconcerted by the scene playing before him. She wasn’t disgusted or repulsed, but definitely in shock, having never seen such life-altering events. 

“Will she be in pain much longer?” She squeaked out. The ram besides the sheep was growing restless, huffing through his nose and stomping his hoof. The mother’s legs curled forward again, and something- the lamb or the placenta- became visible. 

“Your baby is almost here, love, keep going- not much longer. She is a brave being. Her last birth did not even last a three hours, but this one seems to be going by quick. Her time between contract- oh, I know it hurts, c’mon, keep pushing,” Harry looked up at y/n and smiled, “Her time between contractions is short.”

Y/n bobbed her jumbled head. It was safe to say that the girl was very confused. Confused and shocked, and at a loss because she knew absolutely nothing about what to do in this situation. So, she sat still with her hand in Harry’s and stayed quiet, listening to Harry murmur to the mammal in labor.  For how long she sat there, who knew, but everything past her ankles lost feeling, and the back of her neck grew damp. Although Harry told her that the mother sheep would be fierce through this experience, she was slightly hopeless in the fact that she couldn't further help the animal. Her mate- the sheep’s- was too. 

It wasn’t until there was the sound of water spilling, and the thump of something hitting the floor accompanied by several rounds of excited bleats from not just the ram, but the surrounding animals as well. They were celebrating the birth of-

“Look at you, you did it!” Harry joined in on their celebration, and y/n- still very… still very out of it- looked up to catch the most breathtaking expression on his face. Awestruck, amazed, bewildered, did not even begin to cover what was playing out on his features. There were crinkles on the edges of his gleaming, green eyes, and a breathless smile on his lips. He was so absorbed in the act of new life, that he didn’t notice the extra attention he was receiving from the person sitting next to him. Her expression nearly mirrored his, captivated by the complete consumption of himself he allowed. It was not hard to tell that every bit of his soul was consumed by what’s playing out. 

Harry extended his unoccupied hand towards the yelping baby lamb, a golden drop of light appearing on his palm and it floated towards the damp head of the newborn, spreading all over it’s- the lamb hadn’t been sexed yet- body like a sheet. The mother stopped her licking to allow this to happen. 

“What- what is that?” y/n asked. She knew that whatever was happening was not a bad thing because the source was Harry himself, but she wanted to know. 

He looked at her then, the bewilderment and drop of his guard slowly disappearing. “It is my gift. A drop of good luck.” The glow of the fire licked his jaw a warm shade.

“A gift?” Again, she was at a loss. 

“Yes.” He said it like it was obvious, and she became slightly embarrassed. Should she have.. brought something to this? She didn’t have anything to give, but still. “As a token of my gratitude.”

Gratitude… gratitude…

Suddenly, an idea came to her, and she thought of the one way she could give.

Y/n got up from her knees and leaned across Harry’s bent thighs, reaching out to smooth over damp ears (much to Harry’s loss, this mean that she had to let go of his hand). The lamb arched into her touch, and she pressed forward to kiss the place where the golden drop made contact on it’s head. 

Harry watched this, amazed that his guest had taken such initiative, and flustered because in the process, the white cotton fabric of the cloth that he had so tenderly manifested around her body had crawled up the skin of her thighs. Resting just below the curve of her bum, on top of tempting skin that Harry wished- gods, he wished they could reach that mutual understanding, that mutual agreement that didn’t require hesitation on his part if he wanted to caress her. Or, even though they were present in front of only delicate and graceful creatures, adjust her clothing to protect her modesty. What was wrong with him?

“Aren’t you a cutie?” She cooed. After a few more pats, she leaned back with a content sigh, using Harry’s thigh to push herself upright. “I’ve given my gift as well.”

“He’ll never forget it.”

“He? He’s a he?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes, he is his father’s first male descendant, and the future leader of the herd.” 

“Does he have a name?” 

“No. The sheep do not identify themselves in that sort of way. The call out to their souls.” He said. The ram walked in to harry, and bowed his head without aggression. A thank you. Harry did the same, and touched his forehead onto the ram’s horns. 

Y/n realized that it wasn’t a thank you. It was a...a moment of communication. What went on, what occurred, that was unknown to her. But the gesture between leader to leader was clear.

Harry’s knuckles supported his weight, and his biceps flexed as he leaned forward. Chocolate curls flopped over morrocan sand horns. It was a touching view. 

When the ram retreated, Harry looked on in silence at the budding family for a moment before he said, “I believe that now is the time we must go.” 

Y/n nodded. “Okay,” she said. Harry stood up, and again he offered her his hand. He did not let go when she stood up on her two feet and was steady, and neither did she. The two were content to hold the other’s hand as they sidestepped sleeping piles of sheep and lambs to eventually reach the egg-shell wall. The king knew the stop which to walk through, and led them right through.

Outside, the light had dimmed noticeably, and the sky was a deep, blood-red. 

“Is it nighttime?” asked y/n.

“For the lambs, yes. In my realm,” a smile quirked on his lips, “no.”

Y/n looked for the shrub tunnel at the top of the hill which they came through, but it was gone. The only thing visible in their ascend to the crest was the grass clearing in harsh contrast with the bloody sky. All of the sheep were gone into the cave, and an eerie silence misted across the grounds. Not even the lapping of the heart-shaped pool; the water was still. 

“Where’s the portal?” she said. 

Amused at her labeling for the entryway, Harry chuckled quietly. “It is not a portal, love. Merely a door that chooses to show itself only sometimes. Besides, I have other means of travel.” He pulled her close from an ounce of courage that had rooted in his ribcage. A strong arm around her waist; iron security. 

Y/n let out a surprised yelp, and stabilized herself with a hand on his bicep. To a human it would look like they were getting ready to dance. With their faces millimeters apart, she wanted nothing but for him to kiss her. Hold her like he was already doing, and never let her go. He was absolutely delicious. From how close she was to him- her front lining up with his side- she could see the pointed tips of his ears for the first time. The one characteristic that set him apart from being human. 

She was unable to help it. The urge to touch was too strong. In fact, there was a lot she wanted to touch so technically she was holding off on a lot. He was looking at her as she slid her hand up his bicep, leaving goosebumps behind, and delicately reached out a single finger towards the tip of his ear. 

Harry held his breath, a scalding heat trailing the path her skin left. In that moment, when every inch of his celestial self was hyper focused on her, he was convinced that there was more to the situation than he was aware of. It simply was not possible that she held no magic in her arsenal, and that she was not possessing him. 

“I’d never seen these before.” Her voice was a whisper, because she knew that it would crack under extreme stress if she tried to speak at a normal level. Being that close to him, touching him, and the way that he looked at her… it made her weak in the knees. 

“Do you like them?” Harry’s tone of voice imitated hers, his chin dipped. The tip of his nose ghosted over her forehead. His breath smelled like mint leaves. 

A shiver raked down y/n’s spine at the same pace that his breath smoked over her face. She nodded. She did like them. Very much. 

“Good.” He nodded his head, as if convincing himself that she did like them. His voice dropped again, and the only reason why she could hear what he was saying was because they were standing so close to one another. “Close your eyes for me, darling.”

 This was it. He’s going to kiss me, she thought to herself. Her eyes fluttered closed upon his instruction, and her head tipped back just the slightest bit. Taught, likes the strings on a violin is what she was, waiting to be plucked and played by Harry and his fingers.

But… that kiss never came. 

Y/n’s lips parted and her body came to rest completely onto Harry’s side, but she never felt her lips on his. Instead, the ground disappeared beneath her feet and her hair lifted from her back. She kept her eyes closed, waiting, until-

“You can open them now,” he said. He watched y/n’s eyebrows furrow, and her lips dip downwards. Her dissatisfaction was clear on her face, and even though she knew exactly what she yearned for because it was the exact same thing that he wished for as well, he didn’t make any advances. Instead, he took his thumb and smoothed over the center of her eyebrows to make the wrinkles go away.  “Don’t look so distraught, beloved. Come, come, open your eyes.”

Embarrassment, anger, sadness, disappointment, all wrapped up in one and presented to her in a box with a pretty red bow; deception. She really thought that he was going to kiss her. 

Dejected, y/n opened her eyes and immediately turned to look towards the side to avoid meeting his gaze. She wasn’t sure she wanted to attempt to read further into the situation and receive incorrect signals. They were back in the ring of tall sunflowers, besides the stone bench, though this time their petals were closed as if they were still budding blossoms, arching high towards the glittering stars in the night sky.  

She stepped away from him, and for a moment they stood there awkwardly. Y/n toed the ground, and Harry stood still. The only thing moving on his figure was the soft lilac ripples in the wind. Eons of life had taught him how to be still at times of boredom. 

He cleared his throat, and tried to strike a conversation again. “Time travels differently in the Land of Nurture, which is why I was unsure to say whether it was nightfall here.” He cleared his throat once more, “I suppose that-”

“I’m tired.” A cricket chirped somewhere in the grass. Y/n had no remorse for interrupting him. She needed to remove herself from the situation. Sleep on it, maybe. 

Had she been looking at him, she would’ve immediately kicked herself for cursing the fallen look on his face. “Of course. I’ll walk you back inside.” 

The night call of nature serenaded their stale parade through the garden. And through the halls of the castle. The bottom of her feet grew cold for the first time in the entirety of her visit in the Fae realm. When he stopped at the arch of her doorway, y/n wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers, but she knew it would be rude to bolt for a bed the king provided for her while he was standing right there, no matter her feelings. 

“I would… uhm,” he swallowed, and the harsh rasp of his voice diminished. “I would sleep soundly if I knew that you were going to bed with fresh clothing. I know that you cannot eat, and there are no bathing quarters in this room, so let me… uhm,” a pink tint blossoms on the apples of his cheeks. “Will you allow me to provide new clothes for you?”

Y/n was stunned. There was underlying symbolism to his request, this she knew. How, despite everything he was willing to make sure that she was comfortable. How he cared for a stranger he could obliterate with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to. 

He was getting flustered. His hands were behind his back, but by the way that his biceps moved it was clear that he was nervously fiddling his fingers. “I’ll take you somewhere to wash up tomorrow, but for now, clean clothes is the best I can-” 

“I’d like that,” she nodded slowly, sucking her lips into her mouth. It was her turn to feel awkward, as she stood there silently with her eyes bouncing from his, to the floor, to him, to the ceiling, to him... and he did the same.

“Stand on the pedestal for me?” He asked. 

“Okay.” She moved further into the room, and climbed up to the step. The coldness of her skin was eradicated by a heat eminating from the wood. It made her shoulders sag and her eyes shut in pleasure. It was a good feeling. 

Y/n didn’t question whether Harry would bare her naked by stripping her at the first go, but a tickling feeling of lace wrapping around and underneath her breasts told her that he would place pretty little underthings before manifesting new fabric onto her body. She was staring down at the floor, flustered because it felt as if his fingers were the one’s dressing her. 

And she was right. Soon after the feeling of feathers on her skin stopped, the white milkmaid’s dress with grass stains vanished into thin air, leaving her only in lacy pink underwear that so delicately wrapped around the curves of her breasts and the swell of her mound. They were just barely transparent, and the swirl of her areolas were a ghosting tease underneath the material. 

In a brief second, she realized she was exposed to Harry, and her head snapped up to meet his. A strange, lonely king that was looking at her- a human in a land of immortals- expectantly. “Would you like something different?”

Dazedly, she shook her head, “no. These are pretty.”

Harry’s mouth went dry, but he kept his eyes on hers. He wouldn’t look down. Not yet. He dressed her in a dress that was in similar fashion to the one before. Light, airy, and loose on her body, and in a light blue shade. The straps were thin strings on her shoulders, and pooled on the floor so her feet disappeared.

Y/n stepped down from the stump, her feet on the cold floor again. “I am most appreciative,” she whispered. Her eyes nervously dropped from his again, and he sighed in defeat.

Harry shook his head. “You can say, thank you, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

“Thank you. They’ve lovely.” A yawn ate up the last bit of her sentence.

“You should rest. We have a short walk tomorrow.” He started to walk back out the doorway, but stopped just before he turned the corner. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

She went to sleep that night thinking of the warmth that emitted from his hand against her palm, of the way his lips curled into a smile, of the way that he allowed himself to become so wholly absorbed by what was going on around him. The sticky feeling of embarrassment tried to snake in on the picture she was trying to paint to lull herself to sleep, but y/n pushed it away. 

She went to sleep that night thinking of the Fae king. 

The area where her feet lay at the end of the bed was particularly warm all through the night. 

    *                                                *              *

                                                  *                                **

The next morning was equally as glorious as the one from before, only that this time her stomach and foul mood stained the innocent sunbeams that casted across her sheets. 

After nearly a day and a half of not eating, her stomach was beginning to ache. During times when money was tight, y/n wouldn’t eat and drink only water. This was similar to that, but… she had no water. She couldn’t eat or drink because Harry wouldn’t let her. If it was up to her, she would’ve helped herself to a full course meal at breakfast because she loved food, but alas, the king wouldn’t budge. 

Angus was there again, with another note. He smelled like corn. It read,

Good morning, beloved. I will be waiting with the sunflowers for you when you are ready. 

Beloved. Y/n smiled down at the piece of paper, the swirls of ink on paper enticing butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Never having ever experienced it herself, she heard of the exhilarating feeling that came with the drop of a roller coaster. The tightening of her abdomen was strikingly the same to the description of what that felt like. 

Angus tentatively poked her thigh with his hoof, and the reminder of his presence, y/n dropped the note and scooped the animal into her arms. He squealed and wriggled with happiness. 

“Why hello, handsome. It’s been a while since I last saw you,” She pressed kisses behind his ears, and when she lifted her mouth, Angus rested his head on her shoulder. “Where’d you run off to, hmm?”  

He snorted and lifted his head, his back legs shifting on her thighs and pressing into her skin. It hurt, but she didn’t have it in her heart to say anything. “Should we go see the king now?” 

Another squeal. 

“Yeah, I think so, too. Let’s go.” Y/n set him down on the floor and placed her feet down next to him. The warmth of her soles and the cold floor was a contrast that made her hiss and lift her feet up momentarily. The piglet stopped to look back at her as if concerned, and y/n smiled. “It’s just a little cold, Angus.”

He bobbed his head, understanding, and waiting for her to get back on her feet to continue walking. The cerulean blue of her dress swished around her ankles as she followed him out and through the castle. Vines and flowers bloomed and sprouted as they passed, bees and butterflies fluttered in through the flowers. 

The curtain of foxgloves parted as she approached and she was momentarily blinded by the morning sunlight. After her eyes cleared, she could see the walkway through the garden, and in a short distance, the opening of the tall circle of sunflowers that encased a bench, where a pale yellow figure sat. It was Harry, and y/n was frozen in place when she spotted him. 

The movement caught Harry’s eyes, and he stood from the bench. Both of them watched each other, frozen in their spots like they were scared movement would blow the other away. Y/n’s lips parted and her chest twisted, the flowers around Harry shivered. 

Angus, bless his soul, bumped his head, annoyed, on y/n’s calf as if to say ‘what are you waiting for? go talk to him!’

“Alright, geez,” she said, rolling her eyes at her friend before she started walking towards Harry. He waited for her at the edge of a stone bench, and toyed with the edge of what he was wearing; a veil-like material over his chest the color of wine, and a snow-white pair of flared pants. The most non-greek outfit of his that y/n has seen. Though his shirt was still extravagant and elegant, flowing bell-caps that reached the middle of his thighs, and an open, unbuttoned collar with ruffles around his neck that exposed his smooth, taught chest. 

“Hello,” she said once she reached him. Up close she could see that there was a wreath of stained purple leaves and fuschia colored flowers with white bulbs in the middle. To her, they were just flowers. Harry knew they were horny goat weeds. He had no control over them, and they usually reflected his mood. At a certain point of his adolescence, his elders noticed that he had a knack for herbs and gardening. It was part of his magick, part of who he was and what he felt. 

One careful look at the draping white cloth of his pants, and she’d see the tenting fabric at his crotch. He was having trouble… containing his thoughts late at night. “Good morning,” his words cut off in a way that suggested there was more to come after, but nothing did.  He shot a quick glance down at Angus, who had plopped down besides his feet. 

The sunflowers around them tilted towards y/n as she dug her toes into the grass and watched Harry, blushing and trying her hardest to hold back a cheesy smile that wanted to spread on her face from just seeing him.

“Are we going swimming today?” She whispered. Whatever tenderness had settled over them, she didn’t want to disturb it with a loud voice. 

Harry understood this, but chose to poke fun at her anyways, “Why are you whispering, darling?” He was whispering, too. Angus watched, his head turning back and forth like it was a tennis match.

She couldn’t hold the smile back anymore, and the blush spread to a warmth on her ears. “I dunno,” she shrugged.

“Yes, we will go swimming today. Angus will be joining us. I believe he may have been a fish in a past life, he loves the water so much.”  He placed a kiss on the creature’s head, and nodded his head towards the river. 

Y/n laughed, and began walking with Harry, the sunflowers following her way out of the ring, and then tilting back up towards the sun when she was out of reach. They moved in silence, their strides in sync so they looked like one. 

“How did you meet him?” She threw out a question just to hear him speak.

He tilted his head to the side to see her, the ruffles of his collar tickling his chin. “Who? Angus?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed. 

“Well,” he sighed, “It was on a rainy spring day, about three years ago, I reckon. Maybe more, this fella does not like to age. He was a victim of a foul trick, and lost his mother.” Angus whined, and Harry covered his ear so he couldn’t listen, the other side of his head pressed against Harry’s chest. “To what extent ‘lost’ goes, it is knowledge I am not privy to.” He removed his hand, and Angus looked up at him. “ But he found me, and we have been friends since. Isn’t that right?”

“It’s lucky that you found each other,” she said, smiling sadly.

“Will you be leaving any friends if you decide to stay?” His interest was heavy in his question, as was the hope that maybe she might stay. That maybe they might reach that mutual understanding. 

Y/n shook her head slowly, “No, I wasn’t much of a social butterfly, and not many people take the time to get to know me. And I think you mean when.” They were beginning to reach the bank, the sound of flowing water louder as they got closer. 

“I- I don’t understand,” his eyebrows furrowed, “were they mean to you?” Right before they dipped into water, Harry wrapped an arm around her bicep to gently redirect her so that they walked alongside the stream. In his arms, Angus was looking to be sleeping. 

“When I was in school, yes. I guess that I just didn’t fit in, because everyone else turned against me, and sometimes girls would make fun of me. Once I got older, I was the outcast at work. And I didn’t go out much because I didn’t, you know, have any friends to hang out with,” she said. 

“What?” Y/n looks over at him, surprised at his outburst. His brows are deeply furrowed and his voice is heavy with hurt. “You did nothing to them and they decided to be foul over nothing? That is completely unfair.’

 Y/n shook her head. “It’s alrigh-”

“No, it is not alright, and it is not fine!” He was getting agitated, and Agnus was waking up. A vein on his neck protruded from his neck. He was shaking his head as he spoke, his distaste showing through his rigid body language; the curls that were pushed back with the flowers in his head fell out with his movements, framing his face in a chaotic way. “It should not have to be this way. It’s the same reason why my* kingdom is in ruins. I just do not understand why-”

With a comforting hand on his bicep, y/n stopped him in his tracks. “Harry, it’s okay. There’s nothing we can do about it now. That’s why-”

She stepped in front of him so that she could place her other hand on his biceps, holding him. When she came into clear view of his eyesight, Harry tilted his head to Angus, who had settled back in the crook of his arm when he noticed that y/n took initiative to comfort him. His pink lips were pressed into a firm line, his eyelashes fluttering every time he blinked. Blinked back tears. 

“I’m sorry. I know that that feels like.” He sniffled and y/n cupped his cheek with her hand, swiping away the first tear that fell. Her heart cracked in two at the wavering of his voice. “I wish it did not have to be this way.”

“I do, too,” Her own voice was watery. She was always the one to cry when she saw someone else do so as well, “but if it wasn’t that way, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have met you.” 

His gaze lifted at her words, and a weepy frown found its way onto his lips, “as much as I want you to stay, I fear the troubles you might face. The people here do not listen to me, and their treacherous ways are not something that I endorse.” 

Her hand dropped again, to his bicep, and she tilted her head to the side playfully, like she was thinking. “I’ll stick by your side, and-”

He smirked. “I stick by yours, yes.” He took a hand out from underneath Agnus, and bopped her on the nose. “But, that is only after the three days.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at him, and stepped away to take her place besides him. “Again with the three days? Why are you so hung up on them?”

He shrugged, proud and smug. “I stick by my word, honeybaby.” 

Y/n’s jaw dropped, and her eyes shut for a moment, “H-honeybaby?” Harry’s lips puckered like he was taking joy in her flustered state. He waited for her hands to unclench. A bird chirped in the distance.

He licked his bottom lip, “Do you like it?”

Y/n brushed it off, and cleared her throat. “Come on, I wanna go swimming,” She tried to tug on his delicate sleeve, but he wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her close, looking down at her with fierce domination. Y/n’s eyes widened and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She was, what you could say, intimidated.

He tutted his tongue, his head cocking, “You didn’t answer me, honeybaby. Did you like the name, or no? I wouldn’t want to displease you by calling you something you don’t like.” Y/n shut her eyes, her left foot hooking around her right ankle so she could press her thigh together where a heat was building up. “So, I’ll ask you again, do you like the name, honeybaby?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, opened her eyes, and nodded. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she was frozen. He was a different person then, his eyes a darker shade of green, the smile on his lips borderline malicious with all the subliminal filth it held. “Yes, I like it.” The tent in his crotch was more noticeable then, and if he shifted his hips forward just a hair, the tip of his dick would’ve brushed her silk covering her stomach. He almost shivered at the thought. 

In a blink, he was back to the ‘regular’ Harry she knew. Bright and cheerful. “Come along now, honeybaby, we’re almost there.” An inconspicuous brush down the front of his pants fixed his dilemma. 

They walked for a few more minutes, following the river up-stream, curving around the back of the castle where it trailed off into the horizon, leaving a strip of land wide enough for five people to walk through in between the river that went, and the river that came. A loop; a fence, around Harry’s castle. Down this strip they went, encased by water and a canopy of willow trees, until they came across a fork in the river. Stepping stones rose just above the water level to their right, leading to a lake-like retention of water. A pool, if you will. 

Harry slowed just before the rocks, and y/n got close enough that the first was a step away, “is this it?” She asked. 

He nodded, and set down Angus, who shook off the last of his sleep and hopped through the rocks. Y/n followed after him and jumped right into the sparkling pool of blue water, the same color of her dress; a crystalline aquamarine. She did not care if her clothes got wet, or if she had to walk back to the castle with wet clothes. The distraction was what she needed. 

It felt good, a nice cleanse from the two days of travel and sleeping in dirt, and yesterday, when sweat from the warmth of the Land of Nurture collected and dried on her skin. A heavenly feeling. She hated going to the pool at recreational centers because she hated the smell of bleach, and she didn’t have the guts to go out into the lake by herself. y/n had learned how to swim when she was little, and this? This felt like a rebirth.

When she resurfaced, she pushed her dripping wet hair back and cheered. “Come into the water, Harry!” He was sitting on one of the stepping stones, only his feet and an inch of his pants dipping into the water. “It feels so good!” He shook his head, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Come in! It’s not even cold!” It wasn’t, it was actually warm. 

She pleaded once more, and he finally gave in. He said, “oh alright,” and jumped into the water, a swift and graceful dive she only ever saw on TV, in the olympics.

He dove deep, just where the water got murky- though it wasn’t even that, the water just got too, too blue*- enough that she couldn’t see him. 

“Harry? Harry, where did you go?” She fumbled around the water, looking around her circle of space for his lithe body. “Harry, it’s not funn- AH!” Her kicking foot brushed against something sleek that moved away, and she shrieked. 

Harry came up in a splash besides her, shaking his wet hair in his face. “Here!” 

Y/n shrieked again, her fright so big that she swallowed a gulp of water and lost her equilibrium, her head dipping underneath the water. Immediately, Harry lunged to grab her by the waist so her head was above water. She coughed up the water that was in his lungs, and breathed raggedly. “Woah, woah, honeybaby,” Harry stroked her hair back, “tt’s alright, I’ve got you. It’s just me, ‘was-” He was breathless, “‘was playing.”

He watched her as her breathing returned to normal. Her hands were gripping his biceps fiercely, and her legs had somehow wrapped around his waist.

When she felt him clear his throat, her eyes focused on his, and her breath hitched. The look in his eyes, the stroke of heathen… it was there again. Though his lips were curled upwards, and he was watching her carefully to make sure that she was okay, there was a sliver of space from control and loss of it. 

Y/n felt it. She felt it every time his legs moved, kicking to make sure they both stayed afloat.

“Can I ask you something?” She was quivering with anticipation in his arms. Although she had faced rejection just the day before, the warmth she felt in that moment was enough for her courage to build up again. 

“Anything, my darling,” he rasped. The octave of her voice rumbled down her spine. My darling.

“Will you… will you kiss me?”

   *                                                *              *

                                                 *                                **

The third and final part has already been completed, I just wanted a clean break between the two :) It’ll be posted after a mafia!h blurb. 

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Thirty Seconds

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 4) Y/N enters the maze

Warning: Blood, kidnapping, maths (yes there’s a warning for that because it kills me)

Words: 2,360 

A/N: I hope no one looks at my search history because... not good

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Five  Part Six

Master List HERE   Permanent Tag List HERE

You look at the LED display which gives you your instructions.

 Unlock the door at the top of the stairs. Enter the maze. Forty-five minutes.

 You don’t bother to step over the pictures, not caring about the dirt from your shoes transferring. The steps are framed by a washer and a dryer, both in a dishevelled state from where you had searched them. Gripping the key tightly, you climbed the stairs and slid it into the lock. You turned the key, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

A wall extended from each side of the door, floor to ceiling and, once again, made completely of concrete. The path extended away from you, but the ceiling lights showed that it veered into two different directions.

 With the walls being floor to ceiling, there was no way for you to see above them and determining how big the maze was. The forty-five-minute timer set could be wholly unrealistic but what choice did you have? You had to at least try.

 You put your right hand on the wall, just like Spencer had said back in October, and take a final deep breath. You stepped into the maze, ready to begin your next task, one that you hoped was both your last one and not. Last, if it meant your team finding you. Not your last, if your team didn’t find you and you needed to survive.

 You kept your right hand on the wall as you travelled through the maze, the concrete scrapping at the delicate pads of your fingers. It wasn’t a painful feeling, but it was slightly uncomfortable. You ignored it, concentrating on keeping a level head as you walked through the maze.

 You had been close to death. You had barely found the key in time before the timer had run out. You had thought you were going to die for sure, that you would fail the task and the unsub would appear and kill you.

 You could have died and you would have never had seen your friends or family again. No more well-meaning lectures from your parents. No more worrying about how your younger sibling was fairing at college. You wouldn’t have Penelope dragging you shoe shopping again, and Emily wouldn’t be able try and convince you to have a drink with the team. Hotch wouldn’t stand behind you during interrogation sin a silent display of support, and there would be no more dinner parties or personal conversations with Rossi. Derek wouldn’t tease you about your ‘twin telepathy’ with Spencer.

 And, oh, Spencer. You’d miss out on so much, you had so many plans. You were going to take him to a concert your favourite band was holding. In return, he was planning on taking you to a lecture on molecular physics. You wouldn’t be able to bounce ideas off each other again, he wouldn’t be able to supply the words you couldn’t quite grasp when trying to describe something.

 No, stop it. You were going to be okay. You had made it this far. As long as you followed Spencer’s directions and kept right, you would make it out of the maze. You were not going to let some unsub beat you.

 You had went up against unsubs before. Everyday of your career was full of them and you hadn’t lost yet. You were not going to lose this time. You had been there to help stop Tobias Hankel, Mason Turner, and Robert and Linda Reimann. If you could get through them, you could get through this.

 Your nose scrunched up as a rancid odour filled your senses. Your left hand lifts to cover your face as you choke on air, the smell turning your stomach. The smell is strong and sharp, and almost seems to burn your nose.

 And its coming from your right.

 You have no choice, you have to follow it around, you can’t detour from your path or you’ll never make it out of the maze.

 You turn the corner.

 There, on the floor, is a large stain. It’s a dark, rusted red. Smeared across the floor, as if someone had half-assed trying to clean it us, the blood was easily identifiable. Someone had died here. It could only have been the second victim or the fourth. However, the second victim refused to participate and the fourth completed it… maybe the second victim refused to continue and was then killed? Or did the unsub have more victims he didn’t advertise?

 You stepped over the blood stain and continued on.

 From the stain, you know that the method of death wasn’t pleasant. You knew the unsub killed his victims by stabbing them but with the large stain on the floor, you knew it would be overkill. That means it would be painful but hopefully quick. If you were going to die a painful death, you hoped it would be over quickly.

 You turned right again and ahead of you; you could see a door with a LED display above it reads;

 Seven minutes and eleven seconds.

 You had made it. You were about to finish the maze, the second task. You breathed a sigh of relief, rushing for the door and twisting the handle, pushing it open and stepping inside.

 -

 Spencer stood with team as they delivered the profile of the unsub who had taken Y/N. He stood at the back, arms folded across his chest and remained uncharacteristically quiet as the other members spoke.

 “The unsub we’re looking for will be a white male in his thirties.”

“He is probably a man who is of average height and build, and is able to appear unassuming and non-threatening.”

“He most likely works in a profession relating to science in some way. Perhaps as a chemist, a schoolteacher even.”

“He’ll live in the north west Washington area and will be single with no children.”

“His interactions with women would be awkward, perhaps limited. He stabs his victims to get sexual release that he can’t get any other way.”

“He’ll probably drive a hatchback or sedan, nothing that would stand out, nothing flashy.”

 Spencer didn’t know how this profile would help. They currently had no witnesses, no suspects. There were multiple men in Washington who would fit the profile. They’d solved cases like this before but now it was personal, and Spencer couldn’t see the light here.

 Derek’s phone rang he quickly answered it, putting it on speaker. “Talk to me, baby girl.”

“Okay, I got a hit off the car and the partial plate. I’ve followed it back to two separate cars, with single differences in their plates” Garcia informs them. “Lewis Rakers and Bailey Peterson.” “Rossi, Prentiss, you go to Rakers. Morgan and I will go to Peterson’s” Hotch orders. “Garcia send the addresses to our cells and I want a full background check on both of them.”

“Yes, sir” she hung up.

Hotch turned to Spencer, “Go over all of the victim’s schedules again and see if their paths crossed in anyway, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

 Spencer knew they hadn’t missed anything, that Hotch was just trying to give him something to do because he refused to let Spencer into the field. He nodded anyway, moving back to the room which held the case files while Hotch instructed JJ to visit the ME to find out more about the newest body found, that of Lydia Webb.

 -

 Lewis Raker opened the door to his basement, his arms full of washing as he climbed down the stairs. He shoved the dirty laundry into the washing machine, adding the detergent before pressing it on. He sighed as he looked around the messy basement, he’d have to clean it up soon. A knock sounded from upstairs and he left the basement, closing the door behind him as he went to the front door.

 -

 Bailey Peterson put away the final item, looking around his basement. Once a mess, he had managed to tidy it up in less than an hour. It had involved moving some items, picking up rubbish off the floor but it was done now. The bell for his front door sounded and Bailey quickly hurried to answer it, pulling the door shut behind him.

 -

 David Rossi and Emily Prentiss climbed back into their car. Lewis Raker had answered their questions without hesitation. He had, however, denied them entrance into his home. It was a one storey property, made with grey bricks and had a wooden porch. Thirty minutes outside of Washington, it was in a quiet area with limited neighbours.

 “Do you think its him?” Prentiss asked, not looking away from the house.

“I don’t know, but its strange that he won’t let us inside” Rossi comments, eyes narrowed as he eyed the house with equal scepticism. “Call Hotch, see how he’s getting on.”

Emily pulled out her phone, dialling Hotch’s number and putting it on speaker.

 -

 Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan walked away from the Peterson residence. A two-storey building made of bricks, it was an eye catcher in the neighbour-less area of north west Washington. They climbed back into their car, not bothering with their seatbelts as they stared at the building in front of them.

 Hotch’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his suit pocket. “Hotchner.” “Hey, we just got done with Raker. He gave nothing away and wouldn’t let us into the house without a warrant” Emily informed him.

“We just had the same interaction with Peterson” Hotch confirmed. “I’ll patch in Garcia and see if she’s found anything.”

 Putting the phone on speaker, Hotch dialled Garcia’s number and added her to the call. She answered the call on the second ring, greeting the team with her usual quippy comment before jumping straight into giving them the information they needed.

 “Okay, only one of our duo matches the profile. He’s not a chemist or science teacher, but his dad was. He works as a janitor at a local high school though, so he could get access to the ingredients to make the chloroform. No wife, girlfriend, boyfriend or anything that can be seen. I also went over CCTV of the areas where the victims went missing and it took a while, but I found the car in every camera. Sometimes the times aren’t exact, but its within half-hour either way.”

 “Who is it Garcia?” Hotch demanded.

Garcia took a deep inhale of breath before she told them the name.

 -

 You were in a new room. It was tiny, if you were to reach your arms out in either direction, you’d be touching the wall. Ahead of you is a door, an alphabetical keypad beside it. Above the keypad is a laminated piece of paper and a timer counting down from three minutes.

 The laminated paper held a riddle and you stepped closer to read it.

 ‘I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’

 You know the answer to this riddle. You, Spencer and Penelope had a game you would play with each other. You would tell each other riddles, hoping the others wouldn’t know the answer. It was a playful game, something to occupy the downtime when you didn’t have a case. This had been Penelope’s first riddle and she had been annoyed when Spencer had guessed the answer correctly before she had even finished telling it.

 ‘Echo’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door slid open and you stepped through. The new room is exactly the same as the first, the timer reset to read three minutes and it was already counting down. You turned to the riddle.

 ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?’

 This was a riddle you had given to Penelope and Spencer. You had spent ages on Google looking for the perfect riddle before finding this one. You had been proud because Spencer hadn’t been able to answer the riddle straight away. It hadn’t taken him long, only a few minutes, but you still counted it as a victory.

 ‘Map’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door in front of you slid open and you stepped through again. Its exactly the same as the first two and you groan. Riddles were fun but under pressure, you already knew you were going to struggle.

 ‘How can the number four be half of five?’

 This one stumps you. You’re not the best at maths and would admit to that any day. This was not a riddle which was made for you. While you struggled with large sums off the top of your head, you knew that half of five was two-point-five. The math was impossible. Maybe it doesn’t mean the literally number though. The numbers are written as words, maybe that was a clue. It could be ‘fi’ or ‘ve’ or…

 Roman numerals. They used letters, didn’t they? You hated Roman numerals, they were stupid and confusing, not following a logical order which you hated. What was the answer? IIII or IV… wait, IV. Those are two letters which are in five. You couldn’t be certain that they were the Roman numerical version of four, but you were running out of time.

 ‘IV’ you input into the keyboard.

 You hold your breath but then the next door slides open and you walk through. There’s another riddle.

 ‘Find the next three parts of the sequence…. OTTFFS’

 What? You didn’t understand. What was the sequence? It made no sense, there was no method to the layout of the letters. What could they mean? You didn’t even know what the letters could stand for.

 You would have to guess because you had no way of knowing. You looked at the timer, thirty seconds. What were you going to put? You bit your bottom lip and reached for the keypad.

 “SOO” you typed.

 The timer reached zero and the door remained closed. You held your breath, turning around in your spot. The lights went out and you were left in the dark. 

A/N: What’s the answer to the riddle? And, who is the kidnapper/killer?

Permanent Tag List: @sskhair​ @sammypotato67​ @spencerreids-wife​ @yoongi-holland​ @bucky-babygirl​ @youareperrrfectls​ @alexxcorona113​ @tired-draculina​ 

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[heloflor]

Goodbyes

AO3 link

They exist because of him. They did what they needed to do to keep him safe. Nothing but him mattered to them.

So when he discovered them, the least he could do was give them a proper goodbye.

WARNING : this is about the island of Dakotas, meaning that some pretty dark implications will be brought up regarding what Dakota does to save Cavendish.

Note : Just some random thing that’s been on my mind for a while now when thinking about the island of Dakotas during the crossover. As per usual, Cavendish is married to Dakota. Also, for those who like to visualize the characters with some details : this fic follows an idea I mentioned here about the Dakotas on the island disposing of their engagement/wedding ring. btw, the fic I mention at the end of this post isn’t this one.

And another thing : a revelation given by Dakota in the second half of this fic is inspired by the ending of the fanfic “Flesh” by rotg5311 on AO3 (it’s about cannibal Dakota so be warned if you look it up).

Anyways. Enjoy !

The sun was slowly setting as the group of Dakotas was waiting for their boat. Most members were here, though a handful didn’t make it through the fight. Those Dakotas were mainly the older ones who lived through that event once and who lived longer with Balthazar, willing to do anything for him, even more than the younger versions. There were also the ones engaged to the man but never married, who used the frustration of their situation to fight like there was no tomorrow. Then, there were the ones most impacted by what they saw or what happened before they were replaced.

Overall, around a hundred of them lost their lives that day. But given how many they were and how little their existence mattered, these losses were insignificant.

That was the mentality the rest of the group had adopted as, for the second time in their lives, they were about to leave the world forever, becoming nothing than a mysterious dot on a map.

But despite the implications of their situation, the group was happily chatting. They talked about today, about how alive they felt to fight again to save the world, about how nice it had been to see Danville again, to see Balthazar again.

Most Dakotas still had their heads in the clouds thinking about the encounter. Never had they thought they would see the love of their lives again. So when he showed up on their island…Had it not been for the dire situation the world had been in, the group would have convinced the man to stay with them for a while. They had so much to talk about, so much time gone by without each other !

  Well…not exactly.

For dear Balthazar, no day went by without his husband. They knew this reality, they accepted it, no matter how much it hurt them to think about it.

It didn’t matter now anyways. They weren’t meant to exist. They had no intention of staying in town. They needed to go back to the island where they belonged.

It was with a heavy heart that the group started to embark on their boat.

    “WAIT !”

All Dakotas turned their attention to the dock when they heard the all-too-familiar voice. The word “Cavendish” started to spread among the group as they noticed the tall man running towards them. They waited, until Balthazar stopped a few feet away from them, breathing heavily from all the running.

“Don’t go yet.”, he managed to say despite his panting.

The Dakotas looked at each other, unsure on what to say or do. Then, Leader Dakota approached his former partner.

The leader was the first one. The only one who never saw Balthazar die. The only one who didn’t understand the charm the man had on his future selves, the only one who couldn’t understand. That was what led him to become the chief of the village. He was the only one who wasn’t biased by his feelings.

“Balth.”, the man greeted. “Something’s wrong ? You need our help again ?”

“No. I just-“, he took a deep breath, getting his composure. “I wanted to talk to you. All of you.”, he looked at the crowd, glancing at every Dakota he could as if wanting to look at all of them at the same time.

“I wanted to thank you all again for what you did. Not just today, but for me.”, a small smile formed on his lips. “I always knew my clumsiness could be dangerous for me. But this…I never would have thought you would be willing to do something so drastic. All for me…”

A murmur of “of course !” and “whaddya gonna do ?” spread among the group. The leader just shrugged.

“We’re more than glad to be here for you. We’re partners after all. It’s what we do.”, he commented.

Balthazar nodded, eyes glancing between the crowd and the leader.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you all went through or what you saw. And I know it’s not much after being away for so long but…I wanted to tell you goodbye. You deserve it. You deserve so much more ! And I’m…I’m sorry I can’t give it to you.”

“Aww. Come here !”, Leader Dakota approached the taller man and took him into a hug. Balthazar was quick to return the gesture, his smile never faltering.

“Goodbye, old friend.”, he murmured.

“It’s been nice seeing you again buddy. Take care.”, Leader Dakota replied.

After the shorter man pulled away, Balthazar approached the others and opened his arms. It only took an instant before the group understood and started to hurry towards him. Soon enough, Balthazar had to catch himself as one of the Dakotas jumped into his embrace.

Balthazar found himself giggle at the gesture and, as he heard a sob from the man in his arms, he started to slowly rub his back in comfort.

“Goodbye honey.”, the Dakota wept. “I’ll be missing you.”

“Goodbye.”, it was the only thing Balthazar could say. Those men all had a history with him, whether as an old pal, a date or especially a husband. He knew how terrible the separation must be for them, and he didn’t want to hurt them more than they already were.

When the Dakota pulled away, Balthazar was reassured to see the man smile despite the tears. Quickly, another Dakota took his place, followed by another and then another. Some were crying, some told him a few words. The olders, especially, told him to look forwards, told him with a wink that things weren’t going to be easy but, in a few years, he’ll be back to the right path.

Balthazar welcomed each and every Dakota with a smile. Giving them all the same goodbyes, the same reassuring touches. He wanted to say more, to talk to them, maybe find out what kind of deaths he went through. But he didn’t want them to think about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He was there. He was alive. Right now, that was all that mattered.

    ---------------

  Balthazar stayed on the dock until the boat was no longer visible in the horizon. He waved at the group who was all too happy to return the gesture. The tall man found himself wishing to cry seeing them all leave after all they did to him. Even if he didn’t know, even if they worked from the shadows, it didn’t change the fact that, without them, Balthazar wouldn’t be there now.

His heart full, Balthazar headed home. He had his own Dakota to see.

    ---------------

  It was late when Balthazar opened the door to a dark office. Vinnie was on the convertible couch, reading something. Seeing that his sunglasses were put away, Balthazar decided not to turn the lights on.

“You were out for a while.”, the shorter man commented as his husband closed the door. “Got lost trying to find a proof of what happened today ?”, he teased.

“It would be a wise thing to do.”, the tall man grumbled. “But no. I went to see the others you.”

“Really ?”, Vinnie lowered his phone to look at him. Balthazar nodded. “Are you saying you’re cheating on me with myself ?”, he continued with a smirk.

“I did not.”, despite usually hating any implication of him being unfaithful, Balthazar didn’t find himself angry as he replied. “None of my interactions went as far as a kiss.”

“Ah. You must’ve disappointed a few of them then.”

“…I hope I didn’t…”, he tried to shake his concern away. “And for your information, I went to tell them goodbye. This is the least I can do for them.”

Vinnie smiled. “You know,”, he said after a chuckle. “I’m sure they’re very happy that you did.”

Balthazar smiled back. But as he approached the bed, he found himself frown again.

“Are you eating in bed ?!”, he criticized.

“What ? You were taking hours to come back. And I got hungry waiting for you.”

“You’re always hungry”, Balthazar mumbled. He went to his side of the room to change in his pajamas. As per usual, he could feel his husband’s gaze as he started removing his clothing. At least he could hear the shorter man standing up and having the decency to put his chips bag away before getting back in bed. Balthazar joined him soon after, sitting next to him. Vinnie rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder, and Balthazar was quick to put an arm around Vinnie’s waist, slowly moving his arm up and down.

“Balth, can I tell you something ?”, the shorter man murmured.

“hmm ?”

“I don’t think you’ll like it. It’s about the others me.”, Vinnie warned.

“…Go ahead, dearest.”, Balthazar replied, planting a kiss on his husband’s head.

“I…I’m not the original Dakota.”, he confessed.

“The original ?”

“Yeah. You know, the one who goes back in time every time you die and takes the place of the one who didn’t see you die.”, he explained. “There’s no Dakota who saw all your deaths.”

“May I…know why this is ?”, Balthazar tried, looking his partner in the eye.

“Honestly I’m not sure. Something about your death being too gruesome or traumatizing I guess. One day, I met another version of me who was all bloody and hurt and all that…and instead of changing with me, he told me how to keep you alive. And then it happened again. And again.”, he chuckled sadly. “I think I’m like, the tenth Dakota. Probably more.”

Balthazar just stayed silent, taking the information in.

“You know, saving you isn’t always a one man’s job. Sometimes the other me helps. Even-even if it means dying. But…I guess dying can be as bad as being sent on an island. I mean sure, being on the island with others me must be fun but…y’know.”, he shrugged, his smile gone and his gaze down.

“…I believe I understand your point.”, the taller man replied, wishing he could find the right words to comfort his partner. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrible this situation must have been to live.

He stayed silent for a moment until a question popped into his mind. “Where…where do you think that ‘original’ you is now ? N-not that I wish to replace you of course.”, he quickly added. “Original or not, you’re my Dakota.”

Vinnie chuckled, though that hint of sadness was still present in his eyes.

“He’s probably on the island. Or, y’know, dead after today. Or dead before. Honestly I have no idea how they survive on this island.”

“You…you never visited it before ?”

“When would I have time to do that ?”, his amused tone was back. “You already notice it sometimes when I save you. If I left for several days without explanation, you would definitely notice. And I couldn’t risk it.”

“…I suppose…”, Balthazar wanted to ask more. How long had Vinnie be doing this ? What was his first death ? Why did Vinnie decide to go back ? Why had he never told him before ? How long does he intend on doing this ?...Does Vinnie truly believe that he’s worth all this effort ?

But it was getting late, and the taller man didn’t know if he could take all the answers in one night.

“You’re okay ?”, Vinnie suddenly asked in concern.

“I’m fine.”, he replied. “Why ?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I probably just shattered your entire worldview today and you’re…you’re so calm about it. I thought you’d be freaking out !”

“It’s late.”, Balthazar explained. “And we just had a very long day.”

“We sure did.”

“And don’t forget the few hours I just spent talking to the others you.”, the taller man rested his head on top of Vinnie’s. “Believe me, I still have a lot to ask, and I am feeling overwhelmed by it all.”

“But it’s too much to take in for one night ?”, Vinnie finished.

“It is.”

“Well then,”, the shorter man pulled away, lying down. “Guess we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I sure hope so.”, Balthazar replied, hoping his tone made it clear that his husband was not going to avoid this conversation. Not that they were any reasons for him to do so. The secret was out. There was nothing to hide now.

Balthazar lied down next to his partner, grabbing the shorter man and pulling him close enough for his back to touch the taller man’s abdomen. Vinnie partly turned his head around and the two shared a kiss.

“Goodnight dear.”, Balthazar murmured after resting his head back onto the pillow.

“ ‘night honey.”, Vinnie murmured back.

Balthazar closed his eyes, letting the warmth and soft breathing of the other man lull him to sleep, preparing himself for a night full of memories, memories of all the moments he could have die, all the moments he found himself somehow saved,

all the moments he now knew Vinnie had been there to save him.

[carolina-bleus]

~Something You Read: From Rick to Michonne~

“I cannot believe he actually logged into class this morning from his bed! I think he’d just woken up like five minutes before. He could barely hold his eyes open and had bed hair and everything. Who even does that?” Michonne scoffed.

Rick chuckled. “That sounds exactly like something Shane would do.”

“Mr. Horvath even had to tell him to put on a shirt...which got a lot of grumbling from some of the girls.”

“You included?”

Rick outright laughed at the look of disgust Michonne shot him through his phone’s screen.

“Richard Sutton Grimes, I am offended! You know I have better taste than that. No offense to Shane, but it would have to be the end of the world and we’d have to be the last hope for continuation of the human race before I’d even consider him anything other than a smug nuisance.”

“Ouch! So I’ll take that as a no.”

“Take that as a hell no!”

“Michonne Colette Richardson with the potty mouth! I’m gonna tell your mama and daddy.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? I get grounded and confined to the house and not allowed to go out with my friends? Too late, Miss Rona already beat them to that,” Michonne replied glumly.

“Yeah, it sucks. I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our senior year of high school. I thought everything would be back to normal by now.”

“I don’t even know what normal is anymore.  I certainly hope this isn’t our new normal...going to school online, not being able to hang out and only seeing each other “face to face” through a screen in class or during phone calls.”

“I never thought I’d say this...and if you tell my mama, I’ll deny it...but I actually miss school. Not the work,” Rick quickly added. “I miss interacting with everybody, even Eugene and his mullet.”

“Really, Rick? Of all the classmates you could name, you pick Eugene...and his mullet...and not me?”

“You know you’re not just my classmate. You’re my best friend, Michonne. Of course I miss you.”

More than you even know, Rick thought.

“I miss you, too. The two of us haven’t been in the same space in what feels like forever and I’m over it. We don’t even get to go the mountains for Christmas this year,” Michonne lamented.

The Grimes and Richardson families were extremely close. The teens’ parents grew up together in King County and had been close long before Rick and Michonne were born. The families had been planning to spend Christmas break in a vacation home rented out for the holidays. But, now instead of a big Christmas celebration in the mountains, the families were doing as they had for Thanksgiving and keeping their celebrations small and confined to immediate family. Gift giving was even different this year.

The families decided to keep it simple and follow a modified version of the five-gift rule. Each household pulled the name of someone from the other household. The gift recipient told the gift giver what category they wanted their gift to represent. Luckily, Rick and Michonne pulled each other’s names. But even if they hadn’t, they would have managed to get a gift for each other a gift anyway. Michonne wanted “something you read” and Rick asked for “something you want.” Michonne’s gift was already wrapped and ready on Rick’s nightstand.

The canceled vacation and altered holiday routines were just another reminder of how different things were this year. Rick and Michonne had been inseparable since they were babies. They’d seen each other just about every day before pandemic brought their in-person interactions to a halt. The physical separation was something neither teen had really gotten used to even after so many months.

Michonne sighed. “You think it will be like this when we get older if everything does go back to normal and we can get on with our lives?”

“What do you mean?” Rick asked.

“We’re about to go off to college in some form or another and start the next phase of our lives. Do you think this is what it will be like...never seeing each other except through calls or whenever there is a holiday?”

“You think we’re going to grow apart?” Rick asked with a tilt of his head.

Michonne shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope not. But I never thought I’d live through a pandemic either. Life’s funny that way.”

“I know you want to explore the world and go to all these exciting places during and after college. But what about later? Do you think you’ll come back home? To your family?”

To me?

Rick had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember. He’d never quite found the words to tell her. He thought maybe he’d ask her to prom and do it then but prom most likely wasn’t going to happen this year. Rick worried if he’d even get the chance to hug Michonne again before they went off to different colleges next fall.

“You mean come back home to live?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah.”

“Is that what you’re going to do...come back home after college?”

“That’s been the plan.”

“Have you ever thought about living somewhere else?”

“Not really...but I guess I would for the right reason.”

And the right person.

“What reason would that be?”

You.

Rick shrugged. “I guess I’ll know when I know.”

Michonne looked away briefly before clearing her throat. “Oh...well, we don’t have to worry about that for a little while longer, anyway.  Soon it will be Christmas break. And then it will be New Year’s Eve and we can put this hellish year behind us and start looking forward to the future...wherever that takes us.”

“Michonne, I---

A knock sounded on Rick’s door.  It opened and his mom stood in the doorway.

“Honey, I know it’s distance learning but you still need to get some rest for tomorrow. Michonne, you do as well,” Mrs. Grimes added, knowing without question who Rick was talking to this late.

“Yes ma’am,” the teens replied in unison.

“Alright. Goodnight you two. Love you both.”

“Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, Auntie Suzanne.”

Once his mother closed the door behind her, Rick turned back to the screen.

“Rick, what were you about to say before?”

“Oh...umm...just that I hope you like the Christmas gift I got you.”

“You always pick out the best gifts, so I’m not worried. Well, I guess we better head to bed. Talk to you in the morning before classes?”

“Of course. Goodnight, Michonne.”

“Goodnight, Rick.”

The best friends ended their call and Rick slouched down with a sigh. He had been about to confess his feelings to Michonne right then and there. Her conversation about them growing apart scared him. He didn’t want to lose her.

But what if telling her how I feel pushes her away?

Needing to get his feelings off his chest somehow, Rick tore a piece of paper from his notebook, grabbed a pen and began to write.

Dear Michonne,

You’ve been my best friend since before we could talk and I hope you remain so even after I tell you what’s in my heart. Michonne, I love you...I’m in love with you. Whew! It feels good to FINALLY say that. I’ve loved you since...well, honestly, I can’t think of a time when I didn’t love you in some way.  Every moment that’s meant something in my life has had you in it...holding my hand when I was scared on our very first day of school, when you helped me study for and win the spelling bee in third grade, when we took down the school bully, Phillip, on the playground in fifth grade, being each other’s first kiss in sixth grade and each other’s date for our first high school dance, sitting and crying with me when my grandpa died from the virus, stressing about applying to college early decision and celebrating together when we both got into our dream schools. The serious moments, the fun moments and everything in between...you’ve been there.  And somewhere along the way, my love for you grew beyond friendship.

I can be my whole self with you because you bring out the best of who I am and you inspire me to want to be even better.  You’re the one person I can tell anything and everything to without hesitation. You’re the only person I want to tell everything to. So, you’re probably wondering why I never told you how I feel. Well, I haven’t told you for the same reason your question about us drifting apart scared me...I don’t want to lose you. I can’t imagine...I don’t want to imagine...us not being in each other’s lives. I didn’t want to risk pushing you away or making you feel weird. I still don’t want that. But this year has taught me more than ever that life is short, time is precious and you have to let the people in your lives always know how you truly feel about them while you can.

Whatever you feel for me, please know that your happiness and our friendship are the most important things to me. And I want us to always remain friends, and in each other’s lives, whether or not we ever become a couple. I know we’ll be walking different paths for the next few years, but I hope those paths always lead us back to each other.

This is my first love confession I’ve ever written so I’m not really sure how to end it. I guess, thank you for reading it.

Love always,

Rick

P.S.- If you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to say anything. We can just pretend this never happened.

Finished, Rick neatly folded the paper in half, wrote Michonne’s name on the front, and placed it on his nightstand beside Michonne’s gift.

Now the question remains if I’ll ever give it to her.

*****

Before Rick knew it, there was only one more week until school let out for the holiday break. He’d decided to have a change of scenery and attended school in his dad’s study today. Returning to his room, Rick plopped down on his bed and reached for his phone that he’d left on the nightstand. To his horror, the phone was there, but Michonne’s gift...and more importantly, Michonne’s note...were both gone.

“MAMA!”

“What?! Why are you yelling?”

“Mama, where’s Michonne’s gift?”

“Your Aunt Sheila and I did our socially distanced gift exchange this afternoon. I dropped their gifts off on their porch and ours were waiting there in a box. I already put them under the tree.”

“So you got Michonne’s gift from me off of my table?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to the piece of paper that was there as well?”

“Well, it had Michonne’s name on it, so I put it in a nice envelope...since you neglected to do so...and added it to her present.”

“Oh, Mama, you didn’t,” Rick groaned.

“Yes, I did. It was beside Michonne’s gift. It had her name on it. It was meant for her right?”

“Yes, ma’am. It was.”

“So why are you looking like I just destroyed your world?”

Because you may just accidentally have.

“Uh...it’s nothing,” Rick hedged. “I uh...I just wanted to exchange gifts in person.”

Mrs. Grimes nodded sympathetically.

“I know sweetie. We all wanted to do that this year, but we have to take the necessary precautions to keep everyone safe.”

Unfortunately, my heart might have just become collateral damage.

The morning after he wrote it, Rick had decided not to give Michonne the letter. He still felt the same way, but he just couldn’t run the risk of his confession altering their friendship in a negative way. However, now all he could do was wait and hope Michonne didn’t take an early peek at her gifts like she used to do when they were kids.

Rick looked at the date on his phone...December 10...fifteen days until Michonne opened the letter. He smiled wistfully at his lock screen.  It was picture of him and Michonne that she forced him to take on the last day they saw each other before their world got turned on its head. They were lounging in the hammock in his family’s backyard just talking about their hopes for senior year and beyond. It had been a perfect afternoon. He’d almost told her how he felt then but backed out at the last minute. Now the decision to tell had been taken out of his hands.

Man, I hope I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life.

 *****

As the days to Christmas dwindled down, Rick didn’t notice a change in Michonne or their interactions. They still spoke every morning and every night and she acted the same as always. Rick didn’t know if that meant she hadn’t yet read the letter or that she had and was just not saying anything because didn’t have any romantic feelings for him.

Rick had tried to bribe Michonne’s younger brother, Noah, to find and destroy the letter. But that ended in utter failure. Noah couldn’t find the letter and he got yelled at by Michonne for snooping around her room. But Noah was true to his word (and the fifty dollars Rick sent to his cash app) and never implicated Rick in the plot.

~Christmas Eve~

Rick’s nerves were shot.

One more day until I know if I need to ask to go live with Granny Grimes down in Florida to finish out senior year.

Rick hadn’t spoken to Michonne at all today, which was a rarity.

Maybe she’s avoiding me.

Rick trudged glumly down the stairs so lost in thought that the sudden ringing of the doorbell scared him.

“Did y’all order food?” Rick called out to his family.

“No! It might be a package though,” his father yelled back.

Assuming the delivery person left the package on the porch, Rick pulled open the door without hesitation. He nearly fell over when he saw who was waiting.

“Michonne?! What are you doing here?” Rick started to push open the storm door, but caught himself. “Wait, a second.”

Rick grabbed his mask off the hallway table and put it on before stepping outside. The teens stood on opposite ends of the porch.

Michonne offered a small wave. “Hey, Rick. I came over because I wanted to see you.”

“Why? It must be important if you came in person.”

Oh, man. Is she going to break my heart in person?

“I promise to explain. But, first, I need you to answer some questions.”

“Questions? Why?”

“You’ll see.” Michonne pulled out her phone and unlocked it. “Okay, have you experienced any of the following recently...fever, cough, or headaches?”

“No.”

“Good. Fatigue...muscle or body aches...loss of taste or smell?”

“No.”

“Sore throat...nausea...diarrhea?”

“Michonne!”

“Rick, just answer the question.”

“No.”

“Has anyone in your family experienced those symptoms recently?”

Rick shook his head. “No.”

“Where have you been in the past fourteen days?”

“I’ve been home.” Stressing out over a letter.

“You haven’t gone anywhere outside? Not even to the grocery store?”

“Other than the porch or backyard, I’ve been in the house.”

“Good. I’ve haven’t gone anywhere for the past fourteen days either. I’ve been in the house and avoiding anyone who doesn’t live in my house...basically a self-imposed quarantine.”

“Why?”

“So I could do this.”

Michonne removed her mask and walked over to Rick.  She reached up and removed his mask, smiling at the question in his eyes before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his lips. After a moment of shocked delay, Rick quickly responded by wrapping his arms around Michonne and deepening the kiss.

Needing a breath and a moment to process it all, the couple slowly broke off their kiss and stared at each other with twin smiles on their faces.

“I take it you read the letter?” Rick asked.

Michonne nodded. “Exactly fourteen days ago.”

“You read it the first night?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve never had anyone confess their love for me before...at least not outside of a daydream. I needed time some time to deal.”

“And do you feel the same way?”

“Rick, I quarantined for fourteen days just so I could kiss you. What do you think that means?”

“Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

Michonne rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off of her face.

“I love you, too, Rick.”

“Romantically?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as I can remember.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Michonne shrugged. “It’s the same reason you didn’t. I was scared and I didn’t want to lose you in case you didn’t feel the same way.”

“But we both feel the same way. So...we’re a couple?”

“Almost. There is something you have to say first.”

“What?” Then it dawned on Rick and he flushed, suddenly shy. “I wrote it in the letter.”

“Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

Rick chuckled at his words being thrown back at him, before he turned serious.

“I love you, Michonne.”

Michonne’s face lit up with a smile that took Rick’s breath away.

“Now, we’re a couple,” she declared.

Rick took Michonne’s hand and led her over to the porch swing.  The couple drew close under the blanket Rick’s mom kept there for the chilly winter nights.

“Guess I won’t have to open any gifts tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?” Michonne questioned.

“Christmas came early. I have everything I want now.”

Michonne smiled and pulled Rick into a hug.  When they separated, a sudden question occurred to Rick.

“Hey, did you open my actual gift I got you to read?” Rick asked.

“Not yet, I was waiting until tomorrow. I only opened the letter because I thought it was a card. I’m glad I didn’t wait though because that letter was truly the best thing I’ve read in my entire life.”

Rick blushed happily at Michonne’s words. 

“Well, maybe you’ll read something even better one day.”

“Like what?”

“Our wedding vows.”

Michonne’s eyes widened before she smiled sweetly, “Yeah, maybe one day.”

The couple shared another kiss before they cuddled against each other and slowly rocked in the swing, enjoying the Christmas lights shining across the neighborhood.

@richonnefics

[re-diesirae]

6. Claire

She was running through the chaotic streets of Raccoon City. The hordes of undead tailing right behind her with their horrid growls and that putrid smell of the dead. She had run out of ammo, which meant that if she got cornered, she was in trouble.

She had gotten separated from Leon, and she did not even know if the young man was still alive at all.

Claire took a turn and found herself cornered; it was a dead-end, and she had no bullets. The horrid cannibal monsters were moving slowly to her.

It was it; this was her end.

Claire woke up, startled, and she felt the sun rays coming through the holes in the ceiling, hit her on her face. Her breathing was agitated, and she took some seconds to recover.

She hated those nightmares. They were a recurrent thing, but it had been a while since she dreamt of Raccoon. The city where everything began vanished. With the years, the memories from the place had gotten buried under fresher incidents. Her nightmares were often about nonsense or about places she had visited more recently.

Claire looked around her, remembering where she was. It was morning already, and Leon did not wake her for the shift.

She was slightly annoyed, but at the same time, she was grateful. She knew Leon had done it to let her recover.

She stretched and grabbed her head. The pain was still there, but it was significantly lesser, and her vision was back to normal, too, which meant the effects of the hit were starting to pass.

"Hey, good morning, sleeping beauty," Leon greeted her, and she rolled her eyes.

Claire had forgotten how much of a charmer Leon was when it came to dealing with ladies. Their interactions were on the friendly side, and he had long stopped using his flirty tones on her, so it was the first time in years that she heard him use that tone with her.

"Good morning, cheater," she answered, "I thought we agreed you would wake me up for a guard shift."

Leon snorted.

"I tried, but you just fell asleep again."

"I...I did?" Claire answered in shock.

"Yeah, after saying you wanted ten more minutes," Leon smirked, "Besides, you looked to be enjoying yourself. When was the last time you had a good night of sleep?"

When was it? Claire tried to remember when was the last time she had slept more than three hours without interruptions, but she couldn't remember. Between nightmares and work, she had skipped a lot of sleeping hours in the last few months. Naturally, Claire would not tell him about that.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am just asking," he replied, shaking his head. "You just looked like you had not slept well in a while."

"Well, I hardly think that sleeping in a dilapidated cottage surrounded by mutant monsters can be considered a good sleep."

Leon snorted.

"Anywhere is a good place when you are exhausted," he reasoned.

Claire was not going to argue that. She had to admit that even though it had not been the best sleeping in her existence, she had rested nicely that night. She was not in her best shape, but at least she would not be as useless now.

"I am not discussing my sleep patterns with you, Leon," Claire sighed. "We should head out and try to find a way out of here."

"Yeah, but first, let me see your head."

Claire did not argue, and she allowed the agent to check her. After some minutes, he stood and helped Claire on her feet. The auburn headed accepted his hand and pushed herself up. She tested her stability and was rejoiced to see that she wasn't dizzy anymore. However, her head still hurt, and if she made the wrong move, she was sure she would stumble.

"How is your head?" Leon asked.

"Stingy, but alright. I am ready to go."

"Are you sure? I think we can afford some minutes if you need them."

"No, I'm ok. Let's move."

"Ok. I tried to contact Hunnigan several times yesterday. My signal still has interference, but I think I managed to connect. She might be able to track our location, and I am sure your dear brother will be here soon."

"Yeah, with the big guns, I supposed."

"I just hope he won't use them against me."

"Nah, not even Chris is that unreasonable, and if it makes you feel better, I can talk on your behalf," Claire chuckled, "he usually listens to me."

"I bet he does."

"Alright, then. We must try to stay in one piece until then," Claire reasoned, "We can try to gather supplies as we go, but I don't think our captors have left ammo lying around for us."

"One never knows," Leon said, checking his gun, "So, just like old times?"

"Yeah, I guess you don't get the pleasure of going solo this time, superagent," Claire smirked, picking her rifle and walking out.

"I have no complaints about my partner," she heard Leon mutter behind her.

The place looked a lot different in daylight. Compared to other places she had been, Claire was pleased to see a change of scenery. The sight of trees, grasslands, and the fresh air was a nice change from the acrid air of tunnels and underground facilities.

"Oh, that's right," Claire said, "The locals here..."

"Yeah, they are infected by an improved strain of Plagas."

"An improved strain of Plagas?" Claire said.

"Hum, yeah. I had the pleasure of dealing with it some years ago, during a mission in the East Slav Republic. Aim at their heads, but be careful since some of them can mutate after being destroyed."

"I guess that makes sense. I thought the symptoms looked familiar, but I couldn't quite connect them to anything I knew," Claire nodded, "I guess you've been busy, Leon."

"I could say the same about you."

Claire chuckled. They all had been busy. Chris and the BSAA were always fighting in the frontlines when an attack came, while Leon and the DSO worked diligently tracking terrorists, as well. Claire wondered if she would ever get to spend a day with her family and friends like any other person.

"What can I say? Work is a demanding boyfriend," Claire shrugged.

"Well, you sure have a singular taste for your boyfriends. Have you not thought of getting a real one for a change?"

Claire snorted at the suggestion. Getting a real boyfriend was something she had long given up. Her work demands rarely gave her free time, and what was the point of having a relationship when she had no time to dedicate to it?

"I am fine. I never had a real one when I was young, and the Racoon City mess just put an end to any attempts. It doesn't matter."

"You didn't have a boyfriend before this began? Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Really? Why?"

"When I met you, you looked like the kind of girl that any guy would chase around."

"Oh, well. I suppose there were guys interested, but if Chris didn't chase them away, it was my personality who spooked them."

"Chris scared off your potential guys?"

"Yeah, something like that, but it wasn't all his fault. I played my part, scaring some, too. "

"I can't see how you would do that."

Claire snorted.

"Please, Leon. Honestly, I am surprised you were not scared the first time we met. What guy feels comfortable with a tomboyish girl who handles guns and fights as I did?"

"I think that was what I liked most from you..." Leon answered sincerely. "You were not of those girls who waited for someone to save her."

"Well, I guess you have a weird taste, as well," Claire laughed, "Besides, my luck with men sucks. Either they get killed, or they turn out to be traitors..."

Claire sighed. Why was she telling him this? Leon had no interest in that, but surprisingly, she found that telling him these things was easy.

"What do you mean with that?" Leon asked curiously, "Any ex-boyfriend that I haven't heard of?"

Claire stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him skeptically.

"Leon, you can't be talking seriously."

"Why not? I'm trying to catch up. It's been ages since we had a casual conversation," Leon said, "When was the last time we talked about something that was not related to a mission?"

He was right. Even their friendly calls ended up being about their missions and their jobs. They rarely talked about anything outside of that. They had crossed paths in one or two of the BSAA meetings, but they had never stopped to chat about things outside their work.

"So, ex-boyfriends?"

"None," Claire sighed, "I met a couple of nice guys once, but they got killed in an outbreak. Then years later, I met this colleague at TerraSave. I thought he was a decent guy, but it turned out he was selling us as guinea pigs to Alex Wesker in exchange for a sample of Ouroboros. As I said, my luck with men sucks."

Leon didn't answer. He continued to listen to her as she spoke.

"Looking at the bright side, Chris gets to brag about being the only man in my life."

"That's a lie," Leon said, "You have other men in your life."

"I suppose I might, but I have morals, Leon. I can't call someone taken as my man," Claire chuckled, "What about charmer?"

"What about me? I guess I am the same as you. My job is a demanding girlfriend."

"Really? There I thought you would have made some progress with Ada."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but Ada and I have a different kind of relationship."

"Yeah, right. That's what you call it."

Claire chuckled in amusement at Leon's look. She knew those two had something between them. That was the main reason why Claire had given up the idea of getting together with Leon in the first place. Even if she had a crush on him back then, Leon's thoughts were always about Ada, and she could not compete against that.

"Oh, Leon..." Claire said, looking ahead.

Leon looked as well and gave her a silent nod. The two jumped into some bushes and stayed low as a group of infected locals walked past them. To their relief, none of the infected noticed them, and so far, there had been no signs from the mutant creatures that Claire had met the night before.

"I think the wisest move now is to avoid conflict unless it is necessary," Leon said.

"I am with you with that. You'll want to save your bullets for the big ones," Claire nodded, looking at him.

"Big ones?" Leon asked with a frown.

"Yeah, nasty things. They took me by surprise yesterday, and I blew up the town in panic. The explosion was a little bigger than I thought, but well, I was desperate, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"I didn't meet any last night," Leon said, "but I trust your word, any idea of what it is?"

"Nope. I've never seen anything like it. I dare say it might be a new strain. I guess we get the privilege to test them."

"What an honor," Leon said sarcastically. "Alright, so plan. We need to figure out the terrain, so I think we should try to find a good vantage point to look at what we are facing. There's a rocky cliff in that direction, do you see it?"

"Yup, I do."

"I hope you are in the mood for hiking."

"Leon, if you know me the way you say you do, you'll know I'll never be in the mood for hiking."

Leon smirked.

"But I'll do what I've got to do."

"That's the spirit," he said, "Don't worry. I can carry you if you get tired."

"Excuse you. I might dislike hikes, but I don't need anyone to carry me."

"Of course. It's nice to see that good old Claire is still there."

"The old Claire has always been here," she said, winking at him. "Just improved..."

And broken, too.

Claire followed Leon as he led her through the forest. She was not usually the kind to follow the lead quietly, but she did not feel the energy to act on her own now. There was some comfort in Leon's company that gave her a sense of reassurance. It was a similar feeling to what she felt when Chris was nearby.

The thought was naive and perhaps a little silly, but something about having them close always made Claire feel like nothing could ever harm her. Realistically speaking, it was nonsense, but psychologically, it was something different.

"Strange..."

Leon's whisper pulled Claire out of her thoughts. The woman looked at the agent, who was standing protectively by her side.

"I expected more hostiles, but we've barely encountered some Plagas infected. Don't you find it odd?"

Claire pondered the question. He had a point. Things were unusually calm compared to the hell she had faced the night before. It was almost as if daylight had brought them some peace.

"Well, it is a very different scenario from last night," Claire agreed, "Perhaps they are more active at night."

It was a wild guess, but it was the only excuse she could come up with to explain it.

"That's not a common trait when it comes to Plagas, but you might be right," Leon reasoned, "Well, then maybe we should restrict our moves to daytime. It might slow us down, but between speed and safety, I vouch for the latter. Especially if there's limited ammo in the equation."

Claire nodded. Moving in the daylight had its other benefits too. They had better visibility so they could avoid hostiles with more ease, and if the lack of the nasty monsters was a hint, then maybe they were indeed safer during the day.

"Yeah, that might be the best," she sighed.

"Don't worry. We'll make it out of this one."

"Yeah, I know," she nodded, "Leon..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

That caught Leon by surprise. The blonde turned to look at her quizzically, and she smiled at him weakly.

"What for?"

"Eh, well. I don't know. For being here now, I mean," Claire said shyly, "I suppose it was hard to reach me, and you didn't have to, yet...you are here."

Leon looked at her and smiled, shaking her head.

"Don't be silly," he said, "You don't need to thank me for that. If it hadn't been me, it would have been your brother, but neither of us would let them take you away so easily."

Claire smiled. He was right. Chris would never stand doing nothing while she was getting kidnapped.

"Yeah, you might be right."

Leon put his hand on her shoulder, and she found the touch comforting.

"I wanted to ask you," he said as they began to walk again, "Do you have any idea of what they would want to kidnap you?"

That was a good question. Claire wasn't sure herself.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she sighed. "I receive a lot of hate mail, so maybe it is someone who holds a grudge against me. I don't know. It could be someone targeting Chris, too. Both of us have rubbed some people the wrong way for a while."

Leon didn't reply. He walked lost in his thoughts, and for a moment, Claire wondered about what he was thinking.

That's none of your business, Claire.

Claire shook her head and kept on walking behind him, pushing the thoughts away.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! http://discord.gg/wr48UmENbx