#mystery of the your father tab

[beardedjoel]

oasis

dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌

warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.

a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!

Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?

The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.

Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.

Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 

He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.

You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.

He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.

Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.

So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.

When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.

It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.

Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.

Fuck.

His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.

Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 

When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.

“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.

You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.

“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”

“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”

You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.

The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 

You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.

“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”

Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.

Holy shit.

The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.

“M-Mr. Miller?”

Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.

“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.

“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.

“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.

“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.

Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 

“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”

“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.

Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.

“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.

“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.

“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.

“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.

“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.

“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 

You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 

And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 

“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 

“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 

“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 

Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 

“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 

“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 

Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”

You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.

Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 

A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 

“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 

“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.

Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”

You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.

“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 

The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 

“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 

“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 

“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 

It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 

Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 

When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 

“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.

“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.

“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”

“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.

You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.

“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 

“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”

“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 

“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.

“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.

“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”

“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 

“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”

His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.

Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.

“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.

“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 

Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 

“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”

“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.

Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”

You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 

“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”

You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 

“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.

“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.

Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”

Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.

“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.

“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 

“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”

Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.

You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 

You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.

“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.

“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.

“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”

“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.

“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.

“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”

“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.

A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.

“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 

“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”

You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.

You let him.

The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.

“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.

“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.

“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.

“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 

“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”

You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 

“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 

You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.

You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 

But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 

“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 

“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 

Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 

“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.

“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”

[valkwise]

Hi! Today I want to introduce you to my husband and I's dear friend, Abdelrahman Hajjaj.

This campaign is verified by the Butterfly Effect Project. Click here, find the "Verified Campaigns" tab, and check line #947.

Abod is 34 years old, and lives in Al Maghazi camp in Gaza. He is raising money to evacuate himself, his wife Aya, his daughter Leen, his parents, and one of his brothers. Leen was born premature and needs special care. His mother has blood cancer, his father uses a colostomy bag, and his brother is diabetic. Abod is desperate to leave Gaza and build a better life for his family elsewhere.

Abod's life is extremely dangerous. Something I especially want to highlight is the condition of his house. He lives on the top floor of his building, which has no doors and is missing walls. Thin blankets are the only thing separating him and his family from the elements, and the occupation's ammunition.

His daughter Leen just turned one on September 2nd, and she's able to crawl around more every day. What should be an exciting milestone also comes with a lot of dread. Abod has built barriers around the house to try and prevent Leen from crawling where it's most dangerous, but anyone who has young children knows it can be difficult to keep them out of trouble. Parents should not have to worry about their baby falling off the edge of their house, three stories to the ground below. Yet, this is just another everyday terror for Abod and Aya.

Abod and my husband are very close. They talk for hours every single day, sharing their hopes and fears with each other. A couple of weeks ago, gfm flagged Abod's campaign for verification, something you have probably seen happen to a lot of Gazan campaigns (this often leads to them being arbitrarily shut down). My husband assisted Abod with gfm's intense verification process, and thankfully it was successful. His campaign is also finally connected to a friend's bank account so he can receive funds.

Abod's campaign has not received much attention since it was created in June, and donations have been very slow. Abod does not have much hope for his campaign's success. Please help my husband and I prove him wrong.

He has only reached €7,112 of his €30,000 goal

Please share this post, and give generously and consistently to Abod's campaign. Even small donations add up quickly, so please don't hesitate!

I'm mailing mystery prints to anyone in the US who gives at least $10 (or the euro equivalent), and if you donate any amount and send me an email, I'll send you some comic PDFs (more info here).

Thank you for reading. Here is a video of Leen and her grandfather's cat :-)

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

What I Want... | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Elise is the daughter of an army surgeon who must learn to live with her father's new boarder, Officer William Killick. What begins as a childish crush quickly becomes deep-rooted resentment for the haughty young officer, but one night at dinner when Elise forces the men to listen to what she has to say, that resentment becomes something more once again.

warnings: Smut, misogyny, age-gap (19 & 26), unprotected sex, degrading talk, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-public.

word count: 5,061k

*edited 5/25/24- switched to 2nd person pronouns.

Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Ray 🎶

Mystery- Jesse Jo Stark 🎵

I'm back! Did you miss me? 💋

To start the story, you must imagine a country courtyard, a quaint country home outside of London. The house is small and built on the edge of the city, before the suburbs became a fairy tale destination for starter families. That house is home to a widower and his daughter, recovering from the shock of the Blitz. Even in the English countryside, the war could still be felt like vibrations through the ground. You could feel them too. The daughter of an army doctor, you grew up in a strict household reeking of repressed emotion. Your father was a widower and an emotionally unavailable army doctor, so you followed the typical protocol. You acted out in your teenage years, trying to make up for the hole your mother’s absence left in your home. By eighteen you were your own person, stronger and more independent. You tried to be completely normal, just like everyone else, because you didn’t want to be different. You rode your bike, borrowed books from the library, and painted your nails with red lacquer. You were just a girl, preparing to study away at university, when William Killick joined your household in the summer of ‘46. 

He was a boarder and a prestigious one at that. He was a decorated officer, brave, mature…handsome. 26 never looked so good on a man. At the beginning of the summer, William ignored your stares, your darting eyes, and nervous smiles. You were the last thing on his mind and who can blame him? Surviving the war took a toll on the man and manifested physically in his nightmares and tight jaw. The day he arrived, William had just a few belongings with him. One of which was a typewriter because he was set on writing about the war. Your father had invited him to stay for the summer, offering whatever assistance he needed to get back onto his feet. William took it cautiously, embarrassed to receive such enormous help from a man who had already saved his life once before. You, the doctor’s daughter, had been mentioned only once before, subtext in a telegram, barely important. After arriving two weeks before, it had become clear to William that you were to be his housemate and awkward teenage neighbor. 

William was not good with girls but he was great with women. Anyone below the age of twenty became alien. He didn’t know how to talk to them, so he didn’t. William would watch you from his bedroom window as you lounged in the backyard, dipping your feet into the deep fountain by the garden wall. You tossed and turned on the fountain’s surface, sunning yourself like a lizard. William would lick his lips and looked away, turning his attention to the keys of his typewriter. 

When you would come inside, your feet still wet from the fountain, you could hear the irritatingly familiar sound of typewriter keys. William’s fingers struck each tab fiercely with a precision that sounded like vengeance. You had hated it at first, fumming in your bedroom with a pillow pressed around your ears, but you found the sound comforting now. At night it reminded you that he was awake, watching, aware. You felt safe and found yourself falling asleep faster. You never told him this, however, you rarely talked to him at all. His stern-looking face and quiet demeanor was off putting and cautionary to a young woman. William had been there for only three weeks and you’d barely said one word to him at all. You watched him more and more, feeling a kernel of desire hardening in your chest. It was a girlish crush, something that entertained you when the long hours of summer bored you. 

You couldn’t help, however, to wonder if William ever looked out his window as you swung your shapely legs back and forth on the swing in your backyard. You hoped it would draw him out of his room one day, but your lax attitude and childish behavior still irked the older Officer. Even if his eyes lingered on your freckled shoulders during dinner, you were little more than an annoying child to him. Your breakfasts together were awkward and spent in silence while the doctor was making house calls. William took his coffee in silence, no longer able to stay awake after just one cup of tea. His nightly nightmares made it impossible to do much sleeping. 

One month into William’s stay, you ventured to finally speak to the man. Creeping quietly into the breakfast room and wearing a pretty girl’s play uniform and ribbons in your hair, you pulled his attention away from his newspaper. 

“Are you going to the victory parade, Captain?” 

Your voice broke the silence in William’s mind. He glanced up and noticed you standing beside your chair, your blush colored hand gripping the back of your chair. Your quiet voice shocked the thoughts from his head. 

“Pardon?” He asked as he cleared his throat. The newspaper collapsed over his fists. You blinked nervously and licked your lips. 

“Are you going to the victory parade? It’s on the front page,” you pointed to the front page of the newspaper he held between his hands. William tore his eyes from your face and checked the paper, annoyance rising in his throat. He took a moment to read the headline and groaned internally. 

“No, I won’t.” He answered evenly and flicked the paper back into place. You disappeared behind the wall of words and bit your lip in embarrassment. He kept his eyes focused on the page, though not reading, while you slipped out of the room. Your sandals clicked obnoxiously as you rushed up the stairs into your room. 

Your face burned from embarrassment and anger, so you cupped your hands against your cheeks. You cursed beneath your breath and resisted the urge to scream and kick your feet in the air. Your conversation had lasted for less than a minute and you learned exactly how rude the Officer could be. Were all men of higher rank like that? What gave Officer Killick the right to treat you in that way, so disinterested and unbothered? He was technically YOUR guest! You fummed in the privacy of your bedroom as William chewed his toast calmly and swallowed. 

…

  William remained frustratingly unbothered as he dressed for dinner, fixing his hair and straightening his dinner jacket. He cleared the dark hair from his forehead and sighed through his nose, his jaw set painfully as if he were suppressing a yawn. His door remained ajar and the movement of you passing in the hallway caught his eyes in the mirror. Your small waist was wrapped in a red romper and your brown mary janes squeaked quietly against the floorboards’ grain. You’d left your hair ribbons behind and your hair fell messily behind your shoulders. 

You tried to breathe evenly as you descended the stairs. The sounds of your father emerging from his study for dinner comforted your nervous attitude. You dreaded the arrival of the man upstairs, dreading having to listen politely as the men discussed their days, opinions, thoughts. It made you dislike the man more but it also made your crush that much more unbearable. You picked at the skin on your palms when you all met at the dining room table in silence. You listened as the men discussed politics as they usually did, the boredom boring into your temples like screws. You studied the smug profile of the young officer and pinched the skin on your thigh. Call you immature but you wanted to cause trouble, raise a little hell for the man, just enough to make him finally acknowledge your existence. 

“Officer Killick told me that he isn’t participating in the victory parade,” you casually announced, cutting your meat and licking the juice from your fork. Her father raised his eyebrows inquisitively. 

“Oh?” He asked as he chewed. William looked at the girl, his brows furrowed. What were you doing? 

“Ah no,” William cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. 

“It’s a pity,” you interjected, your eyes trained on your plate. 

“Why’s that?” William retorted, cautious of your tainted tone. 

“The parade is celebrating your victory, our victory. Surly Churchill would want you to be there.” 

William swallowed sharply, his blue eyes now trained on you at the table, sitting adjacent to him. 

“I owe Mr. Churchill nothing.” His voice was cold, his shoulders stiff, and his eyes narrowed, “and as long as you aren’t in cahoots with the man, I doubt he would ever know I wasn’t there to celebrate such a phony victory.” 

“Are you not pleased with the outcome, Officer Killick?” You asked calmly. Your father looked between the two of you with nervous glances. 

“That’s an unfair question.”

“How so?” 

“We may have won but the loss of human lives in the process barely justifies the minimal victory we claim to have earned.” 

“Are you such a pessimist?” You leaned closer and watched as the man lost more of his patience. 

“I’m a realist. I know what the war did and I know the effect it will continue to have because of what we did. No victory is worth what I’ve seen.” His eyes betrayed his erratic state. Images of war flashed in his eyes. 

He was breathing heavily as your eyes locked over the dinner table. You watched him, your eyes softening at the sight of the man cracking beneath the pressure of your conversation. His hair had been displaced and strands stuck to his perspiring forehead. His adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he swallowed. 

“You still don’t want to celebrate what you’ve accomplished, what we have now because of what you and other men had to do? War is about sacrifices and even sacrifices should be celebrated.” You offered evenly and looked down at your plate shyly. William took a deep breath and sighed, picking up his fork to resume eating.  

“I shouldn’t be celebrated. Nothing I did was worth praise.” He said quietly and looked at the doctor. “In fact, doctor, you should know that the man you’ve allowed to stay in your home is just as bad as the men he was forced to slaughter. I’ve done things…” he faltered and sniffed loudly. William stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his plate. He looked once again at you, his eyes soft once more. 

“I’ve done things no young woman should ever have to know about.” His eyes lingered on your face as he spoke and when he was finished he turned and left the room. His footsteps echoed emptily in the dark house as he left out through the back door. The doctor paused before looking at you.

“Elise,” he sighed, “we’ve all made sacrifices that we’d prefer not to remember. Parades tend to make us remember.” He sipped slowly from his wine glass and cleared his throat. 

…

You finished your dinner quickly and excused yourself. When your father was safely removed to his bedroom, you snuck down the stairs in your bare feet, hoping to avoid making any noise that would wake your father. In the cover of warm darkness, William stood beside the fountain, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared wordlessly into the glimmering water until he heard your approach and whipped his head around. His wide eyes relaxed once he recognized your silhouette and soft voice. 

“Sorry, sir,” you whispered into the summer air. William looked back at the fountain and bit his tongue slightly. 

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” He muttered. 

“Sir?”

“How did your father allow you to grow up into such a brat?” He spun around, his voice harsh with a snarl. The ridge of his nose was crinkled as he spoke. You quivered beneath his tone and bit the inside of your cheek. 

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Then what was that at dinner? How dare you talk to me like that!” He turned around, his voice dark and angry. You sucked in a breath, watching as his hands rose in the air and froze. 

“I was angry and I overreacted,” you whispered weakly. William’s shoulders relaxed slightly in the dark. 

“Why?” He asked with a tired sigh and fished around in his pocket for a cigarette. 

“We’ve barely had even one conversation since you got here. This morning I was trying to make polite conversation and you were quite rude about it.” You spoke with your hands waving about your body and your breath tight as you searched for words. 

“Maybe I don’t like polite conversation,” William grumbled as he struck a match and tried to light his cigarette, “damn it.” He cursed when his hands shook, making it impossible to light his cigarette. 

“Maybe you have no manners,” you countered and took the small matchbook from the man. William watched you cautiously as you struck a new match and offered him the flame. William bent over and puffed out smoke until the cigarette’s end was properly lit. He pulled it from his lips and exhaled. 

“I stopped caring about manners during the war. In a world where there are so many problems, manners just seem ridiculous to waste my energy on. So, as to my point, I don’t like making polite conversation. If I wanted to talk to you about something, I would.”

“Well why haven’t you?” You crossed your arms across your chest and dug your toe into the soft bed of the lawn, avoiding his eyes like a shy schoolgirl. 

“Sometimes I don’t have anything to say,” William shrugged. 

“To women you mean,” you finished for him and his eyes shot back to your’s. He looked you up and down before he shook his head with a smirk you’d never seen before. 

“I don’t know if I would call you that. You’re a little young.” 

“And what? Does that make you an old man?” You smiled and glanced back at the house behind you, most of the windows devoid of light. 

“In some sense, yes,” William looked down at his cigarette and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Well, I’m not a little girl, Officer Killick.” You smiled, “and I’m certainly not a brat.” 

“We’ll see about that,” William smiled back and twirled his cigarette between his fingers. As he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, a pair of soft lips kissed him quickly. You held his top lip carefully in your mouth before stepping back, watching his eyes for a reaction. William swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but no words came. You stared at each other in the darkness until William kissed you again, bending his shoulders down to meet your lips. It had been forever since he had kissed a woman and the rush of your breath fanning against his lips made him shiver. You wrapped your arms briefly around his shoulders and rose to your tiptoes. You held their lips still against one another for a moment and William felt himself sigh into you. Your smaller body radiated warmth into his, making him aware of the sweat collecting at the small of his back. With his free hand, William snaked his hand up your neck to your hair and clasped it in his hand. You smelled so nice and strands of your silky hair slipped from his fingers. 

“Y/N…” he whispered as he broke their kiss. Your bright eyes fluttered open and looked up at him. Suddenly, the scene became all too real to him. William took a step back, dropping his hand from your hair. He dragged a hand through his own hair and furrowed his brow. The dim light from the dining room leaked into the yard, casting a jaundice light on the young woman before him. From your perspective, the officer’s form was backlit, illuminating the width of his shoulders and the curve of his neck as he tilted his head to the side. He sighed heavily and took a long drag of his cigarette. Smoke filtered from his nose as he dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel. 

“Do you always get what you want?” He said calmly. You caught your breath, the sound of the fountain behind you becoming deafening. His blue eyes glimmered like dying stars in the dark. Your chest rose and fell as time felt as if it was standing still. That moment before a bomb exploded, before the ground gave out and the windows shattered around you. His hand waited at his side, flexing and relaxing as he watched you. 

“Yes,” you whispered finally. William drew in a shaky breath and nodded softly, risking a step towards you. 

“Then…” he started “who am I to resist you now?” He asked seriously, getting closer. Your eyes followed his hand as it found your hip in the dark. 

“But Y/N…” he started again and looked you up and down, “someone ought to tell you no.” He smirked haughtily and tilted your head back by your chin. He leaned his mouth in beside your ear and growled, “no one likes a fucking brat.” 

His words tickled the peach fuzz down your neck and you shivered, frightened by the tone of his deep voice. William dropped his hand from your waist and turned away. You watched his back as he walked away from you in the dark, towards the light of the house. Not ready to give up yet, you rushed to him and grabbed his forearm, urging him to stop. 

“Killick,” you whispered in a small voice. He looked over his shoulder at you, your red romper creased from dinner. He could just make out the light colored hair on your upper thighs in the offcast-light. Something in your facial expression changed him, the doe-like look in your eyes or your cupid bow lips, puckered in desire. He turned back around and kissed you, your hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. His hands reached for your waist and grabbed tightly at the flesh there. You dropped his hand when he picked you up by your waist, holding you up painfully on your tip-toes. Now you looked down slightly at him, his eyes dark and mature, scary and different in the nighttime. 

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He grunted up at you, his voice heavy. You swallowed nervously and whined quietly from the painful way his fingers bore into your waist, the fabric of your romper giving your an uncomfortable wedgie

“I-,” you took a breath, “want you.”

“Oh, do you now?” William smirked, rubbing his thumbs across the fabric around your sides. “And you always get what you want, so what makes me special to you? Why should I let you have me?” 

You tried to catch your breath in your uncomfortable position.  

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” you whispered, breathless. It was an honest response that embarrassed you and your face flushed a deep unflattering pink. William laughed briefly and lowered your back to the ground. 

“You’re just a naive little girl,” William stated, “you don’t know what you want.” 

“No, you’re right. I don’t.” You answered, frustration showing in your tone, “It’s not enough that I’m making a fool of myself saying these things to you, you have to make me feel stupid as well. My father does enough of that.” 

“You’re not stupid,” William observed quietly, but you were already mad, your voice gaining a harsher edge as you spoke.

“No, I’m not. I know I’m not. But to you and every other man that has ever been inside this house, I’m just a foolish little girl who knows nothing about the real world. And you may be right, Officer Killick, I may know nothing of war but it's only because you men have made it so that I can’t. I know nothing about how it feels for men and women to be together but I know something of how I feel, I know what want  is. I know what desire is. I desire so many things, sir. I want an education, I want to be taken seriously, I want to get out of this house, and right now, I want you. 

Your voice was no louder than a whisper but you felt as though you had been shouting. William watched you as you spoke, his jaw loosening as he listened. When you finished, he raised his eyebrow. Saying nothing, he stepped closer and swept the hair off your shoulders to your back. 

“You speak of desire,” William said softly as his hands cradled your neck, “I didn’t think I could desire anything after I came back.” 

You looked up at William and breathed out shakily when he began stroking your throat. 

“Why do I desire such an aggravating young woman? How could I want you so desperately when you make me so fucking angry?” 

“I could say the same sir,” you whispered, your hands hesitantly finding his chest beneath his jacket. William looked down at your sweet face and kissed you softly. You gripped the slack in his shirt, pulling him closer. William began to kiss you harder, shifting his head to the other side, and breathing deeply against your skin. You moaned softly as his hands slid down the front of your romper, lingering over your breasts. Your nipples hardened beneath his light touch as his thumbs passed over them. His hands traveled down to your bare thighs and then back up, slipping up your shorts. 

His right hand shifted over to your crotch, pulling and prodding at the material there. You moaned and rose up on the balls of your feet. You pushed the dinner jacket from his shoulders, watching as it fell to the grass behind him in a pile. Stumbling backwards, William held your waist against his stomach, bending your back away from him as he kissed you. You pulled at his hair, taking handfuls in your palms and tugging lightly. The Officer felt blood rush to his cock as he lowered you onto the grass beside the fountain. Your kisses became more erratic, sloppy with nerves and fear. Your heart seemed to beat so fast and hard that the ground quivered beneath you. William reached around your back, finding the small zipper at the nape of your neck and unzipped the romper slowly. 

“Wait,” you whispered and drew away from the man, “I don’t know how to do this.” 

William nodded, his breath shallow from lust, “It's alright sweetheart.” His voice was deep and contrasted strangely with the lightness of his blue eyes. The tree adjacent to your bodies covered you with a blanket of additional darkness, but even still, you could trace the outline of the officer’s face with your eyes. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” he whispered against your ear as he moved the straps from your shoulders, exposing the flesh below your collarbones and above your breasts. “But because you’re such a spoiled brat who gets whatever you wants…” his eyes flicked up to hers as he pulled the romper down your chest. “It's my turn to do what I want.” 

William tugged the romper down your waist and maneuvered it off your legs, setting it neatly to the side. Below your romper, you wore only underwear. William’s hands shook as he traced the hemming of the pretty panties, trailing a finger from the point of your pelvis to the inside of your thigh. You panted nervously, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. You resisted the urge to cover your breasts with your arms, embarrassed that you were so exposed when he was still almost fully dressed. With one last quick glance up at the house, William kissed your navel and then again on the soft pouch of flesh above the top of your underwear. 

When he pulled your underwear down to your knees, you gasped and covered your mouth quickly, shocked by the reality of your situation. At any moment, your father could awake and find the two other rooms empty. At any moment, your father could come outside to see the young officer lower his mouth to your thighs and kiss them gently. The house, however, stayed quiet and dark as William spread your legs as far as you could with the underwear still around your knees, and rubbed his pointer finger between the folds of your cunt. 

“I want to feel you around my fingers,” William said hoarsely, holding himself over you, still kneeling between your crooked legs. “I want to see how much you can take.” He added with a soft smirk before slowly inserting one finger inside you. You arched your back slightly, scared by the intrusion that wasn’t necessarily pleasurable. 

“It’s in,” he encouraged you quietly and moved his finger back and forth, coating it with your natural lubricant. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” William watched your face. Your eyes widened as his finger went deeper, making you feel full with just one finger inside. It didn’t really feel like anything, though you enjoyed the closeness it awarded you as William’s face got closer and closer to your own. His breath mingled with your’s, your eyes locked. 

“Just one more finger and you’ll start to feel it. It’ll feel good.” William told you as he slowly inserted a second finger. You quickly muffled your moan as William worked the two fingers inside. The Officer was right, that’s when you started to feel it. William curled his fingers up and worked them in and out, prodding at the small button-like organ inside your cunt. You squirmed beneath him, your hips thrusting up as you tried to work through the sensations. 

“Good…” William praised you, licking his lips quickly, and looked down at your wet cunt. Then he slowly lowered his face between your thighs and watched up close as his fingers worked inside you, eliciting dampened whimpers and sighs. Watching your changing facial expressions, William applied his mouth to your clit and began to suck gently. Immediately, your hips jutted forward, Your free hand pulled up handfuls of grass and you bit down on your palm. You whimpered loudly through your teeth and William smiled against your cunt, licking your folds in quick, cat-like laps. 

“Sir,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, “s-something's happening. Mmmmmm oh god!” You cried as William sucked harder on your clit, his fingers fucking you with more violence. 

“You’re cuming. Good, good girl.” William smirked and helped your ride through your violent first orgasm. Your hips fell back against the grass as cloudy juice coated his tired fingers. Licking them clean, William sat back on his knees and admired your beautiful body. You looked up at him with your wide, doe-like eyes. Your hair was wild and sweat glistened across your collarbones. William had not been able to get an erection since he left the airforce, but now, he felt the old-familiar feeling of his cock being crushed against his pants. His crotch tented out toward you. You were panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

“We’re not quite done yet,” William ran a hand up your thigh to your cheek. The muscles in your stomach contracted as his hand passed over them. With his free hand, William undid the front of his trousers and pulled his erection from his underwear. His pants fell slightly below his pale butt as he supported himself over you again. “Put your hand on it,” William ordered kindly and waited patiently as you reached for his cock in the dark. He sighed loudly as you held his cock and began to rub your hand up and down. 

“Good, keep doing that and go a little faster…. Just like that, yes.” 

“It’s so big…” You whispered, biting your lip. 

“Well what’d you expect, sweetheart?” William tried to smile before breaking into a moan. “Ok, I’ll take over again from here. I’m going to fuck you now, ok?” He waited for you to nod before he raised one of your legs and lined himself up with your entrance. “This will hurt a little. Try to be quiet, ok?” He pushed inside and felt the immediate contraction of your cunt around him as he did. 

“So fucking wet, bloody hell.” William watched as his cock slid inside, your cum glistening around his length. You covered your mouth once again and gasped each time he pulled back and reentered you. “Oh I’m going to fuck your sweet little cunt,” William groaned, holding himself back from fucking you as hard as he wanted to. 

“It feels so good,” You gasped behind your hand and William nodded. 

He started to move deeper, slightly shifting the girl’s body across the grass as his hips met hers. His butt flexed as he went as far as he could inside her, whimpering when you squeezed around him. As he started to gain more momentum, William grunted each time he thrusted into you and you bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from yelling out in pleasure. He held one of your thighs up to your chest, helping his cock find the button of pleasure inside your cunt. When he did, you moaned around your thumb. You grabbed at the Officer’s shirt, pulling him closer to your chest. William supported himself just above your face and kissed your splotchy pink neck as he went slower. 

“I’m going to cum again,” you whimpered beside his ear. 

William smirked and bit down gently on your shoulder, his hips rutting deeply into you. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” William urged you as he worked up to his own climax. Your whimpers peaked as you came around him for a second time, your hands grabbing onto the back of his shirt. Fucking you a little faster as you whinned beneath him, William came to a blinding climax. Pulling out just in time, he spilled his hot seed onto the ground beside you. You stared at each other as you panted, both of your grotesquely pale skin glowing in the dark. Finally, William kissed you again, sucking on your bottom lip as you sighed softly. 

And just as you pulled apart, a soft yellow light came on upstairs.

....

Should there be a part 2?

[quitealotofsodapop]

Saw the notes... got inspired by the silly! MK would absolutely be confused over the baby stone monkeys but also really think the little clones are cute. He uses the explanation Wukong had given him about the babies being clones of an old friend he'd kept preserved until they eventually morphed into a pair of actual baby monkeys to the Noodle Gang. Tang is of course, extremely excited to meet Savage and Rumble because these are basically Sun Wukong's kids and the mystery of who the baby clones original self was gets added to the cork boars alongside Wukong's baby daddy!

Macaque, jealous and feeling betrayed: WHO DID YOU HAVE A CHILD WITH!?

Wukong: You, idiot.

Ha yes! Was rambling in the notes here about the Penumbra au (with some SlowBoiled sprinkled in).

MK rambles about the babies to the rest of the gang (and theorizing thats why Monkey King needed a successor), and the while gang are "aww"-ing at the thought.

The adults have concerns.

Pigsy: "Wait, how old are they? What is he feeding them?" MK, thinking: "Uhhh super tiny-old? Monkey King said the shadows he preserved turned into newborn babies some weeks ago. He keeps them in his shirt so I don't know how he feeds them." Pigsy, concern growing: "He's probably on that island without proper food for himself..." Sandy, also concerned: "And there's a lot of good vitamins one can't get from just fruit and transformed hair. He'll need some ginger tea." Pigsy, already in the kitchen: "And some soup! Tangy! We need some fish heads!" Tang, nerding out: "Are we forgetting the huge fact that these are newborn Spiritual Monkeys!? We're talking like baby unicorns here! This is a major discovery!" Pigsy, handing him a list: "Just get me these ingredients and I'll forgive your tab!" Tang, diligently grabs list and shopping bags: "Okie dokie!" MK: "Eh? Why tea and soup?" Mei: "Odds are the Monkey King is the babies' only source of food." MK: "They're eating him?!" Mei: "Bruh. Boobs." -_- MK, embarrassed: "AH. My bad." >_<

So yeah Sun Wukong quickly gets the adults knocking on his door with big pots of soup and tea for him to take. He's touched by the gesture, but a little startled by how fast the gang were to appear on his doorstep.

So of course MK has to deal with wanting to become stronger faster (can't do certain training when the twins are in the way), and runs into Macaque.

MK takes one look at the black fur, red face marking, and shadowy powers, and thinks "omg! he might be the shadow babies' other dad/clone-original!!" - but holds the knowledge to himself for the moment.

Eventually MK gets a text from Mei during his additonal training, and she sends him an adorable photo of the twins. Macaque overhears.

Macaque, very serious: "Who are they?" MK: "Oh! It's just my friend Mei!" Macaque: "No. I mean the baby monkeys." MK: "Oh haha. Well... the big reason Monkey King can't train me as hard as he can is cus he's got... them." Macaque, grabs phone and glares at the photo: "WITH WHOM?!" MK: "Whoa! You're uh... kinda upset." Macaque: "Of course I'm upset! My former ma- friend had cubs without me!" MK, thinking Mac cannot be that dense: "Wut." Macaque: "What's their names?!" MK: "Zàoyīn and Bàoliè." Macaque: "He named them Rumble and Savage?!"

This of course leads to a confrontation where Macaque has drained MK's powers and is now knocking on Wukong's door demanding to know who fathered his twins.

Wukong: (*opens door with the twins tucked into a skin-to-skin top. Looks a bit sleep-deprived.*) Macaque: (*angry frown*) MK: (*waves nervously cus Macaque dragged him over*) Wukong: "Wondered when you'd get here." Macaque: "Let me see them." Wukong: "Say please. You're not setting a good example." Macaque, forces self to calm down: "Ok. Please let me see them." Wukong: "Thats better." (*Wukong loosens his shirt, letting the twins' heads to poke out. The twins stretch awake as Wukong kisses their heads. A pair of six-ears flutter like that of a kitten as one yawns loudly.*) Macaque: (*quiet. eyes glistening*) Wukong: "Plums, are you crying?" Macaque, trying to hide tears: "Who- who did you have them with!?" Wukong & MK: "Wut." "Seriously!?" Macaque: "They're too beautiful to be mine!" Wukong, sighing: "You literally left behind two shadow clones before you left the island. Shadows that I... had trouble letting go of. And I might have broken some rules of magic to keep them around." Macaque: "You... donated your dao to preserve them??" Wukong: "Yeah. I didn't want to like... lose all of you just yet. But about a few weeks ago they sort of collapsed into themselves and popped out like this." Macaque, doing math and suddenly blushes: "OH." MK: "What oh?" Macaque: "Shadow clones aren't like hair clones. They aren't extensions of the original's body, but rather their soul. When Wukong donated his dao to my shadows - we accidentally, uh... inmaculada." MK: "Omg I was right! You are their dad!" Macaque: "Ok yeah. Uh, here's your power back by the way." MK: "Wut." Macaque: "I had this whole revenge plan in the works but uh, knowing that these little guys are here, I just can't." Wukong: "Aww. Is that the only reason?" (*flutters eyelashes*) Macaque, still blushed: "And I uh... kinda am really touched that you couldn't let go of my shadows after all this time." Wukong, smugly smiling: "Knew it." Rumble & Savage: (*fully awake, now grabbing Macaque's face and chirping excitedly!*)

Macaque quickly turns from "edgy shadow version of Monkey King" to "super-adoring dad" once he meets the twins properly.

Rumble and Savage love having their Papa back.

[intoanotherworld23]

Deep Water

Characters: William Miller, Ben Miller, Francisco Morales and Santiago Garcia, and female reader

Warnings: Mentions of killing and blood, shooting, dead body, murder, drinking, swear words, drugging, and kidnapping

Summary: Drowning your sorrows in another bar since the mysterious murder of your family, your luck seems to run out that night when you witness a horrific murder done by the most ruthless mob in the city known as The Frontiers

I rewatched Triple Frontier for like the millionth time, and then got stuck in a loophole of reading all kinds of Triple Frontier fics, and decided to go ahead a write something of my own and was completely inspired by many people! I really hope you guys enjoy this one cause I think this is going to be an amazing read!! If you wish to be added to the tag list be sure to let me know in the comments or my ask box! Also sorry for this but I’m tagging everyone on my tag list for the first chapter just to get more opinions about this! Thank you so much! XOXO

Part 2

Not understanding why you did it, but you always ended up at the bar. Feeling the liquid burn down your throat making you hiss. The bartender laughed shaking his head every time you motioned for another drink.

Looking around the room there were all kinds of people here. Feeling your body slouching in the chair, but nobody seemed to pay attention to you. It almost seemed as if they were doing everything they could to avoid you.

Being used to that feeling of loneliness it didn't faze you not having anybody. Ever since your family was killed you were numb to every feeling you could ever have.

Coming home to finding your parents and older brothers bloody bodies on the living room floor. Wondering how they were so easily killed even when they were heavily guarded. Nobody knew who killed them, and the entire case was dropped.

Ever since they were killed people didn't look at you, and they certainly didn't want anything to do with you. It puzzled you why wondering who your family really was. There was something more to them, and you certainly weren't interested in finding out.

Your mother never told you what your father did, and always kept it hush. All you can really remember is random men always coming over wearing suits and serious faces. His office was a forbidden room, and never allowed anyone in there.

All you know is your father made a lot of money and was a very powerful man. People in a sense feared your father but you didn't realize any of this until after he was killed. Questions running through your mind all the time that would go unanswered.

"Want something else?" The bartenders voice intruded your thoughts. "Maybe the tab."

"Yeah yeah I get it." Grumbling as you shuffled through your purse pulling out your card handing it to him. "What's so great about this place anyway."

"Do you not know who owns the bar?" He seemed surprised by your question as he stood there his eyes wide.

"No." You strung out the word shaking your head your full attention on him. “Should I?”

"The Frontiers own this place." He spoke the words hushed afraid they would hear him, and appear from the darkness. "The ruthless mobsters that run this city."

"They own this bar?" Saying more to yourself then the bartender who chuckled at your shocked response.

"Yeah they own this bar." Watching as he swiped your card through the machine. "Along with every other bar in this city. Or at least Ironhead is the one who owns them.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Slapping a hand on your forehead in disbelief as you sighed loudly.

“I wish I was hon but yeah this is their bar.” Pressing his lips together with raised eyebrows a sympathetic look on his face.

"I had no idea." Your voice quiet as you started to look around hoping they didn't sneak there way in here.

"Sweetheart the minute you walk out into the streets." He started to say as you looked up into his eyes. "They own you already."

Gulping so loudly you felt everyone could hear it. If it wasn't for the liquor you had in your system you would have ran out of this place so fast you would leave a trail of smoke.

You've never seen them before but you certainly have heard of them. Knowing what they did to people who betrayed them, or simply even pissed them off. They could kill anyone and nobody could touch them.

All you really knew about them was there names. Santiago, Francisco, William and Ben Miller who were brothers. You also knew they had nicknames like Fish, Ironhead, Pope and Benny. Will was the leader of the group and was the most ruthless out of all of them. Frankie was his second in command, along with Santiago and Benny.

"Here you go." Soon as he handed you back your card you shoved it into your purse hopping off the chair stumbling a bit on your feet. "Have a good night."

"Thanks." Mumbling with a stoic look still being polite to which he responded with a small smile and a nod.

Looking around for the exit you just started to walk letting your legs take over hoping you would just find your way out of here. Stumbling down the hall seeing a red neon sign above a door that read exit.

Not planning to get this intoxicated when you unknowingly entered the Frontiers bar. At least they didn't know up here and start causing violence like they were known to do. Just wanting to get home and pass out on top of your bed.

As you pushed the door open a cold breeze gushed around your body. Tugging your jacket tighter to your now shivering body as you looked around. Turning to start heading back to your apartment.

The streets were empty and it was eerily quiet. Not even a car was driving by which was making you a little nervous. The alcohol flowing through your system was making you a little more paranoid then usual.

Moving your legs as quickly as you could just wanting to get home so you could sleep this feeling off. Your heels clacking against the pavement it sounding louder than it usually would.

"Where the fucks our money?" A dark voice shouted from the inside of an alley making your feet stop in there tracks.

"Don't make us ask you again." It was a different voice but sounded just as dark.

Unaware that your feet were slowing moving towards the potentially dangerous sounds. Clutching your purse tightly to your chest as you peeled around the corner of the alley. Your eyes locked on three men standing around another man. His hands tied behind his back and his head slumped forward.

If it wasn't for those stupid drinks your ass would have been home already. Instead your curiosity got the better of you and you had to see for yourself what was going on.

All you could make out was their faces. The man holding the gun had tan skin with dark hair and a matching mustache, and the man to the right of him had blonde hair with a matching scruffy beard, and the man to the left had darkish hair with thin scuff around his lower face.

It shocked you how good looking these men really were especially the one holding the gun. Whoever these mysterious handsome men were they certainly had something dark and dangerous about them.

What intrigued you the most was the one with the blonde hair who had sparkling blue eyes that shined beneath the moon light, and gave him an even more menacing look. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought of getting a look up close.

"I'm losing my fucking patience with you Dave." The blonde haired man spoke shaking his head back and forth slowly. He looked and sounded like he was the leader of this group.

"You've got five seconds before I'll blow your head off." The man holding the gun spoke an accent behind his voice.

"I'm telling you I don't have the money Ironhead." The man pleaded as he cried silently begging for his life. "Please don't kill me."

That must be his nickname as the blonde haired man stepped forward crossing his arms across his chest. Kicking something in front of him trying hard not to lose his patience. The man holding the gun kept looking over at him waiting for some time of signal to be given to him.

Gripping the brick of a building you were crouching behind unable to walk away from this scene. It felt like you were watching a movie, and you couldn't take your eyes off it. Your eyes going back and forth between all of them wondering what was going to happen next.

“Then tell us where the fucking money is.” The man screamed louder this time making you jump.

“It’s gone.” He whispered loud enough for them to hear bowing his head down in fear. “He’s got your money.”

"Wrong answer."

Before the man could say anything else a boom rang through the alley, and rand through your ears. Covering your mouth quickly as soon as your felt a scream bubbling in your throat. Watching as the man's body dropped to the floor a pool of blood surrounding his body.

Stepping back from the horrific scene keeping your hand over your mouth just wanting to get out of there. Feeling a tear running down your cheek realizing you had just witnessed a murder. Never have you ever seen someone get shot point black out in the open.

Before you could make it very far your body backed up into another body. Standing there frozen as you heard a light chuckle and a breath near your ear. Wishing you would have just kept walking or could find the urge to run away from this scene.

"Looks like we have a curious little kitten." His hands gripped your waist pushing you forwards towards the other three men. "Should have just walked away sweetheart."

All eyes focused on you as they watched you being pushed towards them looking terrified. The one with the dark hair putting his gun away his eyes looking your body up and down. The man behind you gripped the backs of your arms when he felt you start to move.

It felt like a light was shining down on your figure as you felt all there gazes on you. Just wanting the ground to swallow you whole so you could get out of here. Maybe you should have just stayed in the bar a little longer, and this could have been avoided.

"Who do we have here?" The one with the mustache spoke up hands on his hips as he looked at you with a smirk. "Pretty little thing."

"This little one was watching the whole thing." Your head shoved down in shame and embarrassment knowing you got caught red handed.

"See the whole thing?" You didn't realize you were being asked a question until you felt someone lightly shove you making you look up at the man who was called Ironhead.

"Yes." Squeaking out feeling your mouth becoming very dry.

There was complete silence as you felt his gaze burning a hole in your face. Not realizing how attractive all these men really were until you were standing so close to them. Feeling your cheeks heat up for the thought of even drooling over these killers.

The man holding you stepped next to Ironhead both of them whispering back and forth. He had longer hair than the rest of them, and had an incredibly youthful look about him. They looked like they could be brothers or something.

"Kill her." Was all he said as he turned away cold as ice your eyes wide in fear not thinking tonight was the night of your death.

"What?" The one holding you before stepped closer to you almost in a defensive stance. "Come on Will we don't have to kill her."

"She's a fucking witness Benny." He glared at his partner his voice filled with authority. “The last thing we need is a squeaky wheel.”

"I don't think this one will talk." The man with the darkish hair and sprinkle of gray mixed in looked deeply into your eyes making you turn away.

Benny stepped around you standing directly behind you feeling his body hovering over you protectively. Keeping your eyes focused on other things acting like they weren’t talking about you like you weren’t there.

"You don't know that Pope." He argued back with him.

"I agree with Benny and Pope man." The one with dark brown hair spoke up this time.

"Shut the fuck up Fish." Ironhead snarled feeling conflicted right now as he watched your trembling body in his brothers hands. "All of you shut the fuck up."

These nicknames they were using sounding incredibly familiar. Repeating the names in your head over and over again trying to think of where you had heard them before. It seemed like you were just talking about men who had names like that.

"What's your name?" He asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Y/F/N Y/L/N." Hearing an intake of breath behind you as soon as they heard your last name.

It really confused you as to why they had the reaction they did when you said your name. Maybe they knew who your father was, and would ultimately decide to let you go, or they could tell you more about him than anyone else has. That was a fat chance though and most likely they were enemies.

It suddenly hit you as to who was all standing around you. It was the Frontier men, and you felt your entire body turn into ice. Feeling those drinks starting come back up your throat threatening to spill out of your mouth and onto the concrete.

Feeling like it was just too big of a coincidence drinking unknowingly in there bar, witnessing a murder, and now here you were in there hands. This was definitely not your night.

Having witnessed these ruthless mobsters killing a man in the alley. Feeling even more stupid smacking yourself in the face wishing you would have just walked away. Now here you were facing what felt like a trial on whether you got to live or die.

The three men were standing close together as they quietly spoke with one another. Going back and forth with each other trying to decide what to do with you. All kinds of questions running through your mind right now trying to figure a way out of this.

What was probably just a few minutes felt like hours. Staring down at your feet as the continued to talk. Not paying attention to the fact that Benny was soothingly rubbing your arms up and down.

"She comes with us." Ironhead finally spoke as he scratched his beard sighing loudly coming to this conclusion. "Keep her quiet."

"Please don't." You begged shaking your head hoping they would just let you go, but you had a gut feeling they weren't going to. "Please I promise I won't say a word."

"We can't risk that doll." Fish said with a calm sympathetic tone in his voice giving you a small smile to which you didn't return.

"Please don't kill me." Hearing your voice quiver as tears were flowing down your cheeks now.

"Did you not hear me?" Ironhead cocked his head at you as he stepped closer to you. "We're letting you live."

"Please just let me go." Pushing not letting it go hoping they would become annoyed and decide to just let you safely back home. "Please don't do this to me."

"Take her to the car Benny." Was all he said before he turned around to the other men. "We'll be right behind you."

Ironhead leaned to Benny whispering something in his ear before he looked to you. Benny nodded his head before he turned back to you with no emotion on his face.

"Come on darling let's go." His hand tugged you to face the other way as he led you into the car. "This is for the best."

You couldn't believe that any of this was happening to you right now. The last thing you ever thought was being kidnapped by a bunch of cold hearted ruthless mobsters. Thinking that maybe your family being murdered was already enough.

"I just want to go home." Speaking out loud without realizing it as you shuffled into the car.

"Maybe you should have walked away and minded your own business." He warned you with a look on his face saying not to push him.

Looking away as he wrapped something around your wrists tightly so you couldn’t escape. The fabric burning your skin as you moved your hands wincing at the minor pain. You could tell the man felt bad, but he clearly wasn’t going to help you.

"Maybe I should have." Grumbling as you looked out the car window watching the other men wrap the body up carrying it to the car.

This was like something out of a movie, and you were waiting any minute for the director to yell cut or something. Or pinch yourself hard enough and you’d wake up from this horrific dream.

"There not putting the body in here are they?" Looking over at Benny sitting at the drivers seat bored.

"Yeah of course." He shook his head with a light chuckle before he turned around to face you. "Can't have somebody finding it."

“Or maybe you just shouldn’t have killed the guy.” Spitting out before you could stop yourself but it seemed to amuse him.

“Well shit you sure got bite.” He bellowed out in disbelief at how you were talking to him considering everything. “We’ll get along just fine you and I.”

Your heart was starting to race rapidly as you sat frozen in your seat. Palms were sweating horribly as you felt the bile rising in your throat again. Your chest was heaving up and down as you slowly felt yourself start to panic.

Not moving a muscle as the three men stuffed the bloody body into the trunk of the car. Slamming it shut making your jump terror coursing through your body at the thought of being in a car with four killers.

Ironhead got into the passenger seat, and Fish and Pope got on either side of you. The tension was thick in the car, and you were starting to become overheated and overwhelmed. You can throw out not getting into cars with strangers out the window.

“What are you guys going to do with me?” Timidly asking once they all got settled in the car. There was silence for a couple of seconds which was making you even more nervous.

“That all depends on you.” A stern voice responded from the front making your eyes diverge to him.

“Behave and you’ll be okay.” Pope answered reassuringly to you, but nothing about his words felt reassuring at all.

One wrong move or wrong answer, and you could possibly end up like the man wrapped in tarp in the trunk. These were ruthless men who would kill anyone including you. For some reason though thankfully they decided to keep you alive. Well at least for the time being probably.

"Sorry about this sweetheart." Fish said with a pathetic smile before you felt something prick your neck before you could let out a scream.

Quickly realizing that it was a needle that went into your skin. Your vision was getting blurry, and you felt like the car was spinning. Trying to keep your eyes open fighting whatever drug he injected you with.

Feeling your body going limp as you slumped in your seat rolling your head to the side against Popes shoulder. Benny looked in the rear view mirror feeling sorry that this was happening to you.

"Go Benny." Ironhead growled not bothering to check if you were okay.

The last thing you remember was the sound of a roaring engine before darkness completely took over your body.

[darklinsblog]

Anomaly | Lucerys Velaryon Imagine

Summary: Years have passed since you created the nexus event, only this time, you and your family must visit King’s Landing, but Lucerys hasn’t forgotten of you.

Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Morpheus!Daughter reader

Part I

Author’s note: I promise after this we go back to on-scheduled Morpheus fics BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS PART EVEN THOUGH THE FIRST ONE DID LIKE ABSOLUTE SHEE- okay thx ✨

It had been six years since you saved Lucerys from an imminent death, creating a Nexus event, resulting in your whole family, keeping tabs on the boy as his destiny became uncertain due to your accidental intervention.

The rest of the events went accordingly, but with the death of each loved one of Luke’s life you saw the poor prince being tormented by his immense losses.

He even had to watch, alongside his younger brother Aegon how their mother was viciously eaten by a dragon.

As well as practically being kept locked away as war kept going beyond the walls. When Aegon II died due to poison, and since he had no male heirs to inherit his throne, Lucerys was taken as next in line.

He had taken his place as the next king at the young age of fifteen, and regardless of other’s second-guessing. The king did an outstanding job, taking into consideration the post-war context of his reign.

Shockingly enough, Lucerys did not take Rhaena as his wife, but being a man, his decision to wait to marry wasn’t put onto the question.

Although, your father Morpheus knew better than anyone at the King’s court why he chose not to marry.

It was because his mind was fixated upon you, Y/N the girl who, so mysteriously saved his life. Truth be told, he had spent years searching for you on the low, but of course he had no luck finding you.

You didn’t admit to it even as the years passed but you would think of him too. A lot.

The Endless were going down to the Waking World, they would check upon the young king every once in a while, making sure everything was in perfect balance.

This time, as your father was to departure he stopped by at the gardens, where you spent an awful lot of time now.

Your dear father Dream sat beside you upon the grass, inspecting the view of The Dreaming.

“You may come if you please” your father spoke calmly, while you looked at him with your eyes wide open.

“But Destiny-“ you said nervously and Morpheus’ eyes softened.

“Leave your uncle to me, only be mindful of your distance with the boy” he advised you, while you nodded fervently and excited hugging your father tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You repeated as you hurried towards the veil at full speed now.

The Waking World felt so different now, more sober. Which was understandable given that this people had survived a war.

You were dressed up as nobles and tonight the kingdom was hosting a ball to reunite the noble houses. Thankfully your aunt had an eye to eye relationship with Mr. Cregan Stark so it was easy to blend in.

Every member of your family went in diverse directions including your father, not before he grabbed your arm softly.

“Please remember” he warned

“Father, I know. Maintain distance” you said annoyed

“Distance is no longer an option as he stands mere feet away from you. Only careful” your heart skipped a beat as he spoke such words, you turned but he was long gone and your eyes finally fell on Lucerys “The Dignified” Targaryen.

If you hadn’t spent all these years watching him from a far, you swore you wouldn’t have recognized him, he had grown taller and more muscular, his eyes seemed darker now.

Perhaps from all the horrors he had witnessed; but nevertheless, it was him. With that perfect golden crown contrasting his raven locks.

But the world stopped when he looked at you. The young king was looking at you, much worse, there was a sense of recognition in his eyes.

Panic flowed through your body as you tried to get lost in this sea of people and you almost managed to get through the door, but a hand caught your wrist.

Your breath hitched, you shut your eyes, maybe thinking if you did it would all go away but it didn’t.

Because truly you had no other choice but to face him.

When you did, Luke was still holding your wrist but it was almost as if he was trying to engrave your features in the back of his mind.

“Is it you? Y/N?” He asked trying to contain his excitement, his need, his hope and your eyes glistened.

“I didn’t think you would remember me…” you whispered softly but he heard you still, so he smiled softly.

“How could I not remember the girl who’s the sole reason of me standing here?” He spoke with such longing now making your knees tremble, he pulled you closer, placing a hand on your upper back, like a fine gentleman.

“Luke…” he smirked at the way his name rolled out of your tongue.

“I see you haven’t forgotten of me either” now he draw closer to your ear till you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “It’s been long since I’ve heard anyone call me that”

You would’ve already fell to the floor if it was for Luke’s strong arm holding you up.

“Please, come with me” he pleaded and you looked down, you were weak under his gaze and you knew it. “Please” he begged once more.

At last, you gave in and Lucerys guided you upon the palace gardens, you were quiet for awfully long, but you could feel the king’s gaze upon you.

“Y/N…” he chanted your name

“Don’t, Luke” you responded rapidly, Luke grabbed your waist and swiftly spoon you around, his hands were holding you firmly, so you could not escape as easy.

“Listen to me, only hear me if your heart calls for me, the way mine roars upon yours” he begged and you could only breathe heavily

“Your memory was the only thing that kept me sane, I even dared to hate you, wonder why you saved me, wonder if you were just a fabrication of my tortured mind to endure the pain” your eyes watered at his words, you wished you could be with him in all those moments he needed someone, anyone.

“Luke, meeting you was the most wonderful thing to me, but even this moment, is stolen, not supposed to exist” you were holding back the tears as you closed your eyes.

“Y/N, Y/N!” He said cupping your face in his hands, and you had no other option but to look at him.

“I do not care if the soil beneath our feet turns to ash. If the world implodes in on itself, I would give away my realm, my crown, if that’s what it took to have you by my side”

“Luke, listen to yourself you sound mad!”

“Do you love me?”

“LUKE!”

“DO. YOU. LOVE. ME?”

“YES!” You exploded “LUDICROUSLY. IRRATIONALLY. I AM… hopeless beyond repair…” you trailed off, surrendering to the want for him, because you couldn’t hold yourself any longer.

You were breathing on each other’s mouths heavily, his eyes diverted to your lips, you were mere millimeters apart and it was driving you both onto utter madness.

“Then I beg you… choose me. Set me free of the torment of this suffocating distance that burns my very soul”

Maybe he was right, maybe the world would implode in on itself, maybe Hell would freeze, maybe the Earth’s crust would separate in two.

But you were tired of running from your desires, you just wanted to fall deeper in love to this king, to the sweet boy you met all those years ago.

Maybe it was a mistake.

But mistakes could not have felt this good. Could they?

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @coolsnowker @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca @1950schick

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Where Do I Go

bodyguard!jongho x reader (royal?au)

genre and warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, violence warning

word count: 23k

synopsis: you're the owner of hotel crescent in mist island, where secrets are traded. you're infamously known as the gossip-dealer and known for manipulating people, which means you're not safe. however, the last thing you expect is your power-hungry father to send jongho to be your bodyguard, but you suspect it's not because he fears for your safety but because he wants to keep tabs on you as he joins prince woobin's side while you join prince hongjoong's side. as your father comes from eden to mist island to become the minister of foreign affairs, the political situation between the two nations worsen and you fear for war, but you risk your life for your homeland, and find jongho joining hands with you as you both uncover secrets and betrayals from your father.

You clicked the necklace into place as you stood in front of the mirror, admiring how the ruby provided a starking contrast with your midnight blue gown, the square neckline making a display of your collarbones, the sleeves full and fitted just like the bodice after which it fell in an elegant flair down to your ankles. You clicked your fingers and the maid arrived behind you, fixing the tied curls in your hair upon your indication. Everything about you screamed mystery and power, and you both loved and hated that. 

“I’ll be back soon after midnight- have a warm bath prepared for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid bowed before leaving and you stepped into your matching flats. For the past half an hour your maid had basically polished you- styling your hair into an elegant but messy bun, doing your routine makeup, dressing you up. It was time to get to the counter and deal with your ‘customers’. You took a deep breath, glancing at the sword that was hanging as a decoration in the living room. Smiling, you left the room and walked downstairs, greeting the maids and waitresses that bowed to you before settling behind the counter, your usual spot where you managed the guests- of course, that was also a pretence among the other things about your personality.

“Good morning, Sakura. I hope everything is in order today.”

“Madame Lee,” the receptionist bowed, motioning you to take her seat- she would now be moving to the other desk until you leave. “Everything is well. I hope you’re doing well.”

“Absolutely,” you smiled, waiting until she was out of sight before you sat and pulled out the register, sitting on your seat and glancing at the few customers you had- some of them were residing temporarily here, while the others dropped by for breakfast- either to meet a resident or to mingle. You sighed, feeling a little bored- you always did, in the mornings it always got interesting around evening, when the people present would exchange gossip and secrets, make decisions that could change the course of this little island that was home to many- Mist Island. 

Of course, no matter whether you were busy or not, time flew. You had quite a few interesting guests in your hotel today, and right now, almost 10 in the night, you were dealing with a… difficult client who was testing your patience with every passing minute.

“Look, Madame,” he began, his eyes travelling all over you as he smirked. “All I’m saying is it’s dangerous business to get involved in places you aren’t meant to be.”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten, Officer,” you sipped tea, glad there was a table between you two- you wanted nothing more than to kick him in the shins. “Money buys everything. You, of all people, should know.”

He raised his brow, wondering just what you were implying. It didn’t help that you wore your statement smile that revealed nothing but at the same time, made men shiver with worry. “Yes… money buys everything.”

You tilted your head, pleased to see he was confused. “If you can afford a secret, we’ll have a deal. You know I only give out freebies if I feel generous, or… if it could provide for some entertainment in this boring town. And frankly… I’m not feeling very generous right now, I’m afraid.”

The Officer made a face, nodding his head slowly in denial more than agreement, his black uniform almost blending with the leather chair in the dim lights. “And what pleases you, Madame? I’ve heard it’s not always money that you demand.”

“A secret in exchange for an even better secret, or… something valuable to you would do,” you grinned and the Officer thought you looked like a magpie at that moment, ready to snatch whatever caught your eye. “So?”

The Officer bit his lips nervously, leaning forward once again. “I’m desperate, Madame. I need to know what the Prince’s Right Hand and the envoy from Eden talked about. Don’t you care about the future of Mist Island? I think that should be enough to tell me the secret- I report to the Prince and I think the Prince’s Right Hand is betraying him-”

“You’re wrong about that, I’ll give you that, at least,” you relaxed back. “The Prince’s Right Hand is very loyal to the Prince- all of Mist Island knows that. You have nothing to worry about- you don’t need to know what they talked about now, do you?”

He almost pulled out his hair and you smiled- he was definitely reporting to someone else other than the Prince. You leaned forward, pretending that you were about to share some scandalous thoughts- and perhaps, you were. “Officer.. If you tell me who you really report to, I’ll give you the secret for free. I promise. And your secret will, of course, stay safe with me.”

The Officer paused, thinking about it. He had clearly not expected the owner of the hotel to be so clever and curious like a cat- it could be your besetting sin, he thought. “Hotel Crescent is an interesting place, I must admit.”

“And you’re welcome here anytime. I don’t forget a face,” you smirked. 

“Well…” the Officer threw his hands in the air before surrendering. “I report to the Minister of Defence. He’s keeping tabs on everyone around the Prince in case someone betrays him- you know how the situation is between Mist Island and Eden these days. He’s preparing us for the worst, he says.”

You only nodded, giving him no reaction. “We should always be prepared for the worst, in any situation. Well, thank you for the information. One of my maids happened to overhear the Prince’s Right Hand and the envoy talk about changing the Minister of Foreign Affairs- perhaps, someone well known in both Eden and Mist. They would prefer someone from Eden, which would be quite… strange, if I have to admit.”

“Ah,” the officer shook his head in disbelief. “That’s a shame. Someone from Eden as the Minister of Foreign Affairs? Way to make it obvious that Eden wants to take over our land.”

“Well, a secret for a secret. Our deal is sealed,” you winked before getting up. “Enjoy the rest of your tea, Officer.”

You smiled to yourself- you had played this one well. Of course, the Prince’s Right Hand was loyal to the Prince. No lies there- but it really was the Prince himself that this ‘concerned’ officer should be worried about. It still looked like most of the court was unaware of the schemes cooking in the palace. And then there was the matter of the head post of the department of Foreign Affairs-

Oh, how you had resisted the urge to tell the officer that it was your own father who wanted that post. You couldn’t help but think about ways to mess up your father and his little mission to become the Minister of Foreign Affairs here- the audacity-

The bell at the door indicated the arrival of a person and you shook your head, ridding it off the schemes, looking ahead at the man who had a rather big suitcase with him. You smiled at him as you opened the register. “It looks like you’ll be staying here for a long time, Mr…”

“Choi. Choi Jongho,” his voice was low and he looked around. 

“Choi Jongho,” you repeated, writing his name. “Room no. 1117 is free. May I ask the duration of your stay?”

“Might be a day, might be… longer,” he smiled politely and you nodded, almost narrowing your eyes- you had definitely seen this face before. “Can I have dinner before I settle in my room?”

“Of course, I’ll get you a table in the corner, if you prefer,” you sighed at the loud group of people that were occupying the centre of the hall to your right. “You must be tired after all the travelling.”

He only nodded in response and you called for a maid, muttering your orders and asking one of the porters to transport Mr. Choi’s bags to his room. The maid accompanied the man to the corner and you finished writing his entry, pausing when you realised just where you had seen him-

In Eden. With your father.

Had he sent this man on business? If he had, he would never have stayed here- you and your father were worse than enemies when it came to business. Perhaps he had sent him to spy on you.

A devilish smile creeped up your cheeks as you shut the register and took a peek at Choi Jongho, who was ordering his food. As soon as he was done, he met eyes with you and you were surprised that he didn’t immediately look away like any other man would have. 

You didn’t exactly know who he was- you had only seen him once, perhaps twice, in your father’s office in Eden. Perhaps he didn’t know you as well and this was a huge coincidence on his part, but you couldn’t sleep tonight without knowing the truth. So you waited until he was done with his dinner and before he could get up without tea, you took the liberty of sitting down across from him with a cryptic smile. 

“Tea is on the house- unless you’d prefer another drink.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he raised a brow, shaking his dark bangs away from his face. “Madame… Lee, is it?”

“The one and only,” you scoffed. “How’s Mr. Lee doing? I hope Eden has worn him down more than he’d like.” 

The way Mr. Choi paused and shook his head, told you that your suspicions were right. You scoffed in disappointment. “What are you, his spy? He must be growing anxious back there since my business is booming.”

“Not a spy,” he told you and waited as the waitress arrived with tea. Once she was gone and you had taken a sip and he was done scanning you, he began. “How did you know it was me?”

“I don’t forget a face, Mr. Choi,” you said and he whistled. “Especially one I’ve seen near my father.”

“He has some… other plans.” When you only raised your brows as an indication that you were waiting, he sighed. “I understand that you had an… accident recently in one of your dealings? I don’t know exactly what you do, but your father thinks it’s best that you hire yourself a bodyguard- nothing too fancy, just a shadow.”

“Interesting that he would suggest so, since he’s the one who cares the least for me,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Mr. Choi Jongho, I’ll deal with any ‘accidents’ I have myself. You can return and inform my father of that- I don’t require a bodyguard.”

“Maybe we should talk privately,” Jongho noticed the maids at the other corner. “You have a lot of eyes on you.”

You took a deep breath, willing the anger roiling in your stomach to calm down and nodded. “You can come to my room at the strike of midnight. When you go to your room, make sure you don’t unpack- I have a feeling you’ll be taking the next train back home.”

Before hearing what Jongho had to say, you were back to your desk and Jongho scoffed to himself- you were a handful, just like your father had described. Haughty, spoiled, and more- you were proving your father correct. He noticed the permanent smile you wore even as you worked and he wondered if you never got tired- but then again, people like you lived off the gossip that travelled around here.

A gossip dealer, Mr. Lee had explained to Jongho, not going into the details. Gossip, he explained, was a two-edged sword. It could cut the wielder if dealt with unprofessionally. But as Jongho looked around at the hotel that even your father admitted was a pretty successful venture, Jongho had to admit perhaps you did have the brains after all. This place couldn’t run without a good head.

Jongho never went to his room, opting to wait right where he had been sitting, reading the paper and catching up to the news. At the strike of the clock, he found you staring at him and with a tug of your head, he was up and following you to the room on the first floor, at the very end- a suite. He watched you turn the keys and open the room, allowing him to enter first before you shut it behind you and turned the lights on. 

“Please, take a seat,” you said and Jongho understood what you meant- stop stalking around. Jongho passed a nearly devilish smirk before he settled down, noticing the sword. “How long have you practised?”

You were surprised that he didn’t dismiss the sword as a mere decoration- or perhaps, your father had told him. What you didn’t realise was that he noticed the blade looked like it had been sharpened and the hilt wasn’t in top condition. “I’ve practised long enough. Now… shall we get back to business?”

“Look, Madame,” Jongho turned his full attention to you. “Things between Eden and Mist Island are going to get rough- this is me speaking, not your father. You need a bodyguard, especially with the job you do-”

“And what, exactly, is my job?” You crossed your legs, smirking. “I’m interested in hearing what Mr. Lee told you about my job.”

Jongho licked his lips, finding it difficult not to groan at your displeasing behaviour. “Gossip-dealer?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at that. “I understand why I should hire a bodyguard- I’ve had this thought for a while now. But tell me why it has to be you, who’ll most definitely be reporting my every move to my father.”

“Obviously your father knew that you’d be against the idea, but I’m patient and he must have thought I’d do a good job,” he relaxed back and you frowned in confusion. “He trusts me, and you can use it to your advantage if you wish. I have to find a few answers on this island as well. Maybe we can make a deal, think how it’s going to work for the both of us.”

You stared at him- he could pass as a local here. He didn’t look strange- plain dark hair, no unusual fashion sense. Everything about him screamed ‘normal’ which was going to be beneficial to you- this was probably a disguise and you could use someone who could pass away almost unnoticed in the crowd. Yet… there was this unmistakable air of mystery to him. Just what answers was he searching for that he was risking his life to become your bodyguard? He had to know just how many people targeted your head on a daily basis, didn’t he? You asked him that and he let you know that he was fully aware of the risk.

“Let’s hear what you have to offer then,” you studied him. “If I don’t agree, we can part ways right here.”

Jongho smiled as he nodded. “I’ll let you choose what exactly I report to your father- you have to give me something so he doesn’t get suspicious. He has other spies here anyway so we should act cautiously.”

“Other spies, huh?” You scoffed- you knew you weren’t paranoid when you felt like someone was watching you at the most random times. “What makes you think he won’t find out about our little deal? He’ll make you regret ever betraying him because you sound like someone he trusts enough, yet here you are, relaxed as you plan to betray him.”

“I think you’re a good actor,” he smirked and you snorted. “And so am I. I don’t see the problem if we’re agreeing on these conditions. I won’t betray you if you don’t interfere in whatever I’ve come here to do- nothing political unlike your field of work, I promise.”

“I think we can work with that. You’re right- he’s going to find out sooner or later anyway. He’s more sensitive now that he’s planning to return here on an official post, isn’t he?”

“You’re quick,” he clapped. “In return… I might need your help a little- not now, maybe later, but there is some digging I have to do and I’d like to keep it a secret- especially from Mr. Lee.”

“I hope it’s something that brings him down- then I can help you with that,” you smiled innocently and he chuckled at that. 

“You two really don’t get along, do you?” He shook his head. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“I have a few… conditions. You’ll refer to me as Madame and you will stay a respectable distance from me- especially when I’m ‘dealing’ with someone,” you began and he nodded. “The minute I learn that you’re betraying me in any way, you’re done for. I may not have a bodyguard but I have enough protection to save me from attempts like these.”

“Understood,” he shrugged- it wasn’t much you were asking for. 

“Then we have a deal. And make no mistake- I do not trust you. I still think you’re going to be reporting my every move to Mr. Lee. However, I won’t interfere in whatever you’ve come here to do… for now.” 

Jongho gaped at you as you got up and went for your room, dismissing him with a rather casual wave of hand. He sighed- just when he thought he had you. “You’re going to be so difficult to deal with.”

“I aim to please,” you said before shutting the door to your room and taking off your accessories, letting your hair loose before walking to the bath.

The bath had long gone cold.

—----------------------

Having Jongho as a bodyguard was proving to be… difficult, to put it simply. 

He wasn’t being a bother, not at all. He wanted eyes on you at all times when you were not in your room, and since you were mostly behind the counter or with the customers, all you needed to do was let Jongho go unnoticed as he seated himself in the corner on a chair with newspaper and an endless refill of coffee or tea- whatever he’d feel like. 

However, you did not like being watched even though it was necessary. It was just him making you aware of his presence time and time again that irked you. Stealing ‘casual’ glances whenever someone official he recognised entered, smirking when he’d catch you making a deal… a mere bodyguard should remain invisible to you. That’s what you told him in your evening break.

“Well, I’m not a ‘mere’ bodyguard, it seems,” Jongho shifted. “What exactly did I do?”

“You couldn’t have made it less obvious that you’re keeping an eye on me,” your face was emotionless so that anyone else watching wouldn’t catch on. “I get that it’s new for you but can you wipe that permanent smirk off your face whenever I’m dealing?”

Jongho laughed heartily at that. “Is that how it seemed? I’m pretty sure I had no such expressions on my face.”

“You don’t even realise it, do you?” You tsk-ed at him, fixing your midnight-blue sleeves before pointing at the left corner of your lip. “This gets lifted up like this, ever so slightly. It’s annoying.”

It lifted up again as a smirk creeped up his face. “Does it now? I’ll hide my face behind the newspaper then-”

“That’s worse,” you shook your head. “If you don’t improve by tonight I’m sending you back home, with a message to my dear old father that he can do better than this.”

“Go ahead,” Jongho, unfazed, went back to reading his newspaper that you were sure he had memorised by now. “I’m his best.”

“So arrogant,” you muttered, scanning him as you pondered your decision. “Just try to make it less obvious. We’ll deal with this later.”

Jongho, however, didn’t improve even slightly. You were just glad your customers weren’t noticing, and by the end of the night, you thought that perhaps, he did blend in. Since your staff was aware of him now and he could go inside and outside as he pleased, you supposed no outsider noticed him… for now.

And tonight, you needed to see just how good he was as a ‘bodyguard’. You were meeting with someone whose identity was better left hidden, though you were sure at least your father was aware of your dealings with the younger prince’s little gang of misfits. Even if he wasn’t, it was a little test for your bodyguard- if after this meeting, your father finds out whose side you are actually on, he would take swift action. 

Before every meeting, it was your strategy to think of every possible outcome and plan according to it. Tonight, you were meeting Park Seonghwa- Prince Hongjoong’s Right Hand, had he been allowed to have one officially. It was sad how the king and the elder prince had pushed the wiser one of their family out of the picture. What made you giddy with satisfaction, though, was that the younger prince was no fool at all. He was one of the smartest individuals you had ever had the chance to encounter, and you were sure he would one day take his position at the very throne he deserved to rule. Not his elder brother Prince Woobin, but him.

People suspected that you were in cohorts with the younger prince, but only to the extent that you provided him with the ‘gossip’. Thankfully, the reputation you had built for yourself preceded you. As it was a public fact that the younger prince had negligible power in the matter of the courts, no one cared. The only person who would care was your father, who had learned the hard way that everything you did had a purpose. 

“How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t even know who we’re meeting?” Jongho muttered, casually walking by your side even when you had instructed him to act like a bodyguard and stay a few steps behind you. 

“Who I meet is none of your concern, and you won’t be reporting this to Mr. Lee,” you gave him half a smile, observing your surroundings as the two of you walked through the very empty night streets. “We’re almost there- stay hidden while I talk. This man is not the threat tonight, so keep your eyes and ears open.”

With that, you stood at the corner of the street and tapped in a rhythmic beat thrice- a signal to him that you were not alone but safe. Out of the shadows, the tall figure of Seonghwa appeared, face masked and hidden further with the hat tilted all the way down. 

“One would think you’d walk right into a trap if all you can see in front of you is your goddamned hat,” you said and he let out a low chuckle as he slid his mask down and tilted his hat up. 

“My apologies, though I must ask who exactly that man is,” he pointed at Jongho who waved at him with a rather innocent smile.

“My ‘guard’, if you can believe that. Long story, perhaps for another time. How does the captain fare?”

The captain- what you called Prince Hongjoong in public. Seonghwa nodded, and that was enough of an answer. You continued, “My earlier suspicions were right. The Prince’s Right Hand is very loyal to the Prince, but now there’s another group we ought to worry about. The Minister of Defence is keeping tabs on everyone, and possibly you as well. Also, it is in discussion whether the new Minister of Foreign Affairs should be someone from Eden. I’m pretty sure Mr. Lee is on board for that position.”

Seonghwa raised his brow at that last piece of information. He knew Mr. Lee was your father, and the fact that you were telling him this… “And would Mr. Lee make a good minister?”

“If you wish to make Mist Island and Eden one again through bloody means, then yes. He would make a very good minister.”

“And how should we stop this from happening?”

“Find out who is actually behind this, and what Mr. Lee holds that grants him immunity as he tramples all over Mist Island.”

“On it.” Seonghwa tipped his hat and disappeared back into the shadows, and you clicked your fingers and resumed walking as if you had never stopped in the first place. 

“That was quick. Where are we going now?”

“To the place that I once called home,” you scoffed and Jongho raised his brows. 

Taking a few turns, you finally reached the house that you had grown up in. As you unlocked the main door and entered what was an average house, much like the other on the street, the damp smell and dust greeted you, making you take a step back. You would never get used to the house smelling like a memory long forgotten. Perhaps, you too were scared of opening the treasure box of memories and letting out the warmth of your mother’s arms. The house was not home after your mother left and never came back, presumed dead.

The truth was that you wished your mother was still out there somewhere, far away even, but safe. Alive. Living the life she wished she had, the one she always sketched in the bedtime stories she told you. 

“Looks like you haven’t been here in a long time,” Jongho’s voice brought you back from your reminiscing and you turned to look at him swat at a spiderweb. “Is this Mr. Lee’s residence?”

“He doesn’t use it much, but I assume he’ll be needing it soon- until and unless he arranges for something better. And me being the docile daughter, I thought I’d surprise him by letting him know that I was aware he would be arriving here,” you smirked, putting your hands on your hips as you surveyed the area. “Better get this place cleaned out tomorrow, don’t you think?”

Jongho looked confused- often, the lines of sarcasm and blunt truth were mixed with you. “Why don’t the two of you don’t get along, if I dare ask?”

“A number of reasons, each worse than the other,” you went for your father’s study, unlocking the room with the set of keys you had one of your men steal and make a copy of without his knowledge. “None that should entertain you much. Would you like to make a survey of your boss’ study? I’m sure you’ll find something of interest there.”

You didn’t miss how Jongho’s eyes flashed- so you were right. Jongho must be trying to look into Mr. Lee’s private life, which meant he must be trying to find out something about his close circle or whatever people he had been dealing with in the past. Jongho narrowed his eyes. “And what should I be looking for?”

“Whatever answers you were wishing you would find on this island. Perhaps you will find something if you’re lucky. I’ll be in the room upstairs when you’re done.”

With that, you left him in your father’s study- an act of faith in him so he could feel that you trusted him to some extent. You wanted him to loosen his guard so you could find out just what ‘answers’ he was desperate enough to look for- desperate enough to be a bodyguard for someone like you. You knew one thing about your father and it was that he wouldn’t force anyone to protect you, which meant Jongho had to have accepted rather willingly. Maybe to your father, that was an act of loyalty, but you suspected otherwise- and you had to, to remain safe.

You entered what had once been your room, now barely a fragment of who you used to be as a child. You did what you had to first- check the floor for that one odd sound and lifted that plank, taking out a box and unlocking it with the key only you and your mother possessed- no one else knew this box existed. It was a little secret communication device between you two while she was alive, and you hoped one day she would communicate with you through this as well. It has been almost a decade now since she went missing, but you used to come monthly here until you started coming less as you started losing hope (or hoping she wasn’t going to use this to communicate with you but another means). 

The letter you found was the same one you had left around six months ago. You replaced it with a new letter and shut the box back, making sure nothing seemed out of place before going to the window and looking out at the half moon. 

With every passing day, your suspicions that your own father had something to do with your mother not coming back without a word grew. Your hatred for your father grew along, especially when he morphed into an ambitious, selfish and wealth-greedy man. You just wished you’d get news if your mother was dead- even that would be a relief than not being aware what state she was in. at least you could mourn her then. 

Jongho hadn’t intended to sneak up the stairs but somehow, despite your good ears, you didn’t sense him with his hand raised to knock at the door- he paused, realising this was the first time in the past three days he saw you with your guard down. Candid. Your shoulders weren’t straight anymore, instead looked burdened. Your head was down with some worry that loomed over you, your mouth breathing sighs. Before you could turn, Jongho knocked on the door, startling you a bit.

“We can go now if you’re done,” he scanned you, feeling a little awkward.

“And? Did you find what you were looking for?” You asked as you followed him downstairs.

“Not exactly,” he sighed. “It’s going to be hard to find what would be a well-hidden secret if it exists in the first place, wouldn’t it?”

You paused- you hadn’t expected that. Jongho raised a brow and you smiled. “It looks like we’re in the same boat, even though our quests must be different.” He made a funny face at that and you locked the main door behind you as you exited. “Did you at least find something of interest?”

“Maybe I did.”The glint in his eyes confirmed that and you smiled in satisfaction. It looked like tonight wasn’t a waste afterall. 

—---------------------

Whether you would like to admit it or not, you were gradually getting used to the idea of having Jongho as your shadow. Especially when he was proving to be useful in several ways. As a bodyguard, he was doing an exceptional job. Since the relations between Mist Island and Eden were getting rockier with each passing day, making the citizens feel on edge, many of your customers who came to trade secrets with you tried to get aggressive. Earlier, you would handle the situation by either breaking a plate over their head or splashing whatever was in front of you on their face- whether it be hot tea or cool water. But now? As soon as someone so much as raised their voice over you, Jongho, who was preferring to seat himself as close to you as possible whenever you did your job, would casually start cleaning his gun or cracking his knuckles with a glare in their direction.

At first, you were pissed. You thought he was interfering, but when one of them ignored Jongho’s not-so-subtle warning and tried to twist your wrist when you annoyed him, Jongho ended up twisting the offender’s wrist so hard you were positive you heard the snap of bones. After that, word must have gotten out. Everyone who met with you was more careful.

Apart from his bodyguard duties, Jongho was also quite an entertainer, you were finding. He was good at making you smile, and your staff was the first to notice, since they could differentiate between your trademark smile and real smile. Jongho probably did not, and you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to think his dad jokes were funny- it could get in his head. Not that he would care- you found out it was his lifelong habit. But since Jongho was good at talking and also good at annoying people, you decided to teach him a trick or two about your job.

“We don’t know how long we are doing this,” you told him, fixing the collar of your periwinkle gown before you looked at him, peeking behind him to see that the customer/target was already seated in the hall. “So maybe you should join me. Maybe you could do some work in my stead when I ask you too.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be good at this though,” Jongho sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “You’re an expert. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“You won’t,” you insisted, almost glaring at him. “You already know too much, don’t you? When you have too much information, you need to let it out through different channels.”

“And what’s that channel today?” Jongho looked towards the hall where all sorts of people were present- nobles, soldiers, foreigners, gangsters. 

“It’s a test. You have to figure out who he is,” you winked at him and he groaned. You only fixed the collar of his black shirt, ignoring how he tensed under your touch, before beckoning him to follow you, seating yourselves in front of the middle aged man who wore such plain clothes that it was impossible to tell if he was a noble or a peasant. But peasants didn’t come here, and he didn’t look from a noble family, Jongho thought.

“I hope you’ve been well,” you said as you poured tea for him, sliding the tray of cookies as well and he thanked you awkwardly. “How’s your family?”

“The same, but the youngest almost caught a cold,” he replied and you raised your brows.

“I hope he’s okay now?”

“He’s still at the… hospital. Not here, though.”

“Is someone with him?” You continued pouring tea for Jongho who had a sympathetic look on his face as he listened to the man’s story.

“He’s all alone, we couldn’t join him. But we wish to, when the time is right, when the matters are solved,” the man sipped his tea, rubbing a hand over his hairy face as he sighed. “It’s hard to travel these days, and we don’t have enough money to pay the doctor.”

“And you came here for my help?” You asked and he nodded. You took a moment to think.

“Maybe I ought to look at my connections or acquaintances for a reference?” You asked.

“I was thinking about the Minister of Defence. He seems to be an acquaintance of the doctors there.”

“Ah,” you nodded, glancing at Jongho to see how he was following the cryptic conversation. “I’ll ask someone to give my message to him then. Maybe he could put in a good word with your doctor after all.”

“Thank you, Madame Lee,” the man got up and bowed and you followed. “Even if he doesn’t help… thank you.”

You only nodded, watching the man leave with another bow in your direction after which you slumped down, munching on a chocolate cookie as you went over your conversation again. You noticed Jongho staring at you and you cleared your throat. “Well? Who do you suppose he was?”

“I would say an acquaintance, but I have never seen him around Mr. Lee or you, for that matter,” he began. “He doesn’t look like he’s from a noble family, and he doesn’t look very rich either, and frankly, your hotel is expensive. What was he really doing here, huh?”

“What was he really doing here?” You repeated, stifling your smirk. 

“I’m just guessing you talked in code words. There’s no patient, no doctor,” he took another cookie as he waited for your response.

“You’re both wrong and right. There is, in fact, a patient, and a doctor, though not quite in the literal sense. He’s a spy, one of his men has been caught by the enemy, and he wants me to do something about it- like either make a deal or force the Minister of Defence to release him.”

“Ah…” Jongho nodded enthusiastically. “It makes sense. But… who’s the enemy here?”

“Who’s the enemy?” You asked him. “I thought by now, you would have realised there’s no such thing as a single enemy. There are several sides. Whichever you choose to stick with, the rest you call your enemy.”

“And which side is yours, Madame Lee?” He asked in a playful tone.

“Not the one Mr. Lee chooses,” you said with a grin and found him grinning back. “You know, something tells me you don’t like Mr. Lee much either.”

“Don’t get me wrong, that man practically raised me,” Jongho brushed his clothes, having finished snacking. “It’s just… he’s a bit difficult, and he keeps a lot of secrets. He’s cryptic. Even as one of his closest personnel, he’s kept me at quite a distance.”

“When do you think he’s arriving?” You remembered discussing with Jongho a few days ago about the possibility of your father arriving on the island quite soon. “It’s going to get noisy here.”

“Should I casually ask? Or would he know it’s not really me who’s asking?” He scoffed at the thought.

“I have my sources, and they say he’s begun packing,” you teased.

“Well then,” Jongho straightened. “If you’re on the side against your father, and you’re both getting involved politically… do you think he would ever hurt you?”

“Do you think he’s never hurt me?” You asked, failing to keep the edge from your tone. Jongho noticed that. With a sigh, you said, “He’ll do anything to get what he wants. He’ll trample on anyone. It doesn’t matter who that is. But Jongho… once he arrives, you’re either my bodyguard or his man. Would you be able to protect me if it’s my father who decides to hurt me?”

Jongho’s mouth fell open as he considered this possibility and you left for the reception counter, leaving him wondering just why he had agreed to become your bodyguard when you were your father’s worst enemy.

—--------------------

Your father came earlier than you expected, but that was both good and bad, although the bad seemed to be outweighing the good for now. 

The island had been in a frenzy for the past three days, ever since your father proudly marched to the island, making a clear and loud statement- that Eden was not fooling around. Arriving on ships that included battalions, the man marched with an army to his hometown, and to everyone’s surprise, he and his soldiers were welcomed by the palace.

However, that day, you had an appointment with Prince Hongjoong himself, and he had specifically instructed you to make a public entrance to the palace. You had dressed in your finest gown of deep ruby, your hair tied back in an elegant bun, a black hat that complemented your dress well on top of your head. The ruby necklace was the only jewellery you wore apart from its matching ring for such occasions. You had instructed Jongho to dress his finest as well, and you weren’t surprised when he arrived at your door in a three piece suit, his hair swept back, though your heart sank suspiciously.

However, he had to pause and take a good look at you, drinking in everything he could see. He couldn’t figure out just what it was about you that made you awfully attractive to him- perhaps the way you carried yourself, strong and unwavering. Or perhaps the playful smile you always had on your face, the teasing eyes-

Or maybe because he thought you were simply beautiful.

“Good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “You look good.”

“You look good,” he simply said. “Shall we?”

You took his arm that he offered and together, you rode in the carriage sent by Seonghwa. On the way, you briefed Jongho about the actual plan.

“We’re making a statement, dear old guard,” you took off your hat before you rested your head. “We go through the main gate, encounter my father- a total ‘coincidence’, exchange greetings- you exchange greetings, I’ll piss him off. And then, we walk to Prince Hongjoong’s chambers while they watch.”

“Wow, okay, could have let me know earlier,” Jongho mumbled. “Wait- I’m meeting Prince Hongjoong too?” 

When your smirk was the only response he got, he groaned loudly, shaking his head in what appeared to be mild annoyance and amusement. “What will I be doing there? I’m sure you don’t need a bodyguard in the Prince’s chambers unless you think he’s a threat.”

“Maybe I just wanted you to tag along,” you challenged and he raised his brow, making your heart lurch again. What was wrong with you? “You’re right, I don’t need a bodyguard today. If you don’t wish to tag along… you are free to go back. I won’t mind.”

Jongho thought for a moment before he shook his head. “I’d like to tag along, actually.”

The two of you shared a smile before you looked out of the window. Something about him today was different. Or maybe you were just feeling strange as you got to know the different sides of him. But you didn’t mind his presence at all now, and coming from you in such a short period of time, in mere weeks? That was new and a little insane, especially considering he might still be reporting other things to your father. 

It was a little suspicious that he actually wasn’t. Not so far anyway, since everything was calm. Or maybe this was the calm before the storm- maybe he was waiting to gain your trust fully before he would pull such a stunt. But you were also cautious- you only showed him what wouldn’t hurt you if it got out. And perhaps he knew that, perhaps he didn’t, but you couldn’t be more careful. As you thought about all of this, playing with your necklace, Jongho cleared his throat and you glanced at him.

“Should I… I don’t know, act surprised when I see Mr. Lee in the palace?”

You considered him for a moment. “You know… you don’t have to keep putting an act in front of him anymore.”

Jongho bit his lip- you were very quick and perhaps this was your instinct now. “I think I need to. For now.”

You made an impressed face. “If it would help you for now, go ahead. It’s up to you, really.”

“I don’t think he would like it very much if he learns we’re a team now,” Jongho was grinning guiltily.

You shifted, appearing interested. “Are we then? A team?”

“Aren’t we?” He challenged with a raise of his brow. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “All you’ve done is help me so far. I haven’t really helped you back, have I?”

Maybe Jongho wasn’t expecting that, which was why he gaped at you. You waved a hand in dismissal. “If you need some help, I can give it to you for free, in return for all you’ve done.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised and you reached the palace. Setting your hat back on your head, you exited the carriage, looking around at the vast expanse that led to the residence of the King, the cherry blossoms in full bloom bordering the path. You noticed Seonghwa, dressed in formal palace clothing, marching towards you and you passed him a subtle nod. Jongho narrowed his eyes.

“Is that…?”

“Shh,” you playfully put a finger on your lips. “What gave?”

“His arrogant walk?” Jongho suggested and you almost snorted as you turned back to Seonghwa, who bowed once. 

“Madame Lee. It’s been a while,” he said, looking at Jongho then, passing an acknowledging nod.

“Mr. Park,” you said. “I hope you’ve met with Mr. Lee?”

“He’ll be leaving Prince Woobin’s chambers in a moment. We might encounter him on our way to Prince Hongjoong’s chambers.”

“We better,” you whispered with a wink and Seonghwa nudged at you to follow him. You made Jongho walk beside you and as you took the turn to the direction of the princes chambers, you noticed a few men bowing as the exit the chamber, and noticed the man in the front-

Your father. You weren’t expecting the shudder that passed through you at the sight of that man who seemed to look the same ever since you were a teen- the same wrinkles on his face, the same arrogance around his mouth and eyes, the same stiffness in his shoulders. You continued walking, pausing only when your father met your eyes and almost dismissed you as a stranger until he saw another familiar face beside you and looked back at you.

And when he roared with laughter at the ‘coincidence’, you didn’t hide your wince at the annoying sound. “The person I last expected to see!” He shook his head, looking at his fellows. “You’d call it a coincidence, but I would call it fate.”

You smiled at that as you bowed to him, Jongho following suit as he greeted your father as well. “Have you been well?”

“In front of you, alive and healthy,” he boasted. “I hope you’re not giving my Jongho a hard time.”

“Should I not?” You glanced towards Jongho who wore no expression on his face. 

“Didn’t he tell you who he was?” Mr. Lee looked confused. 

“He just told me he was your ‘best’,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at that and Jongho finally gave in, groaning.

“He wasn’t wrong,” Mr. Lee nodded at Jongho. “I guess you don’t remember the Choi family. After all, you were too young when they passed away, unfortunately.”

You glanced at Jongho again and noticed that he was clearly not comfortable with your father mentioning the incident. “I’m not sure I remember, yes. Anyways, I must leave now- I have an appointment with the Prince here. Don’t expect me to catch up with you later, and I’d prefer if you stay away from my business, unless you have news worthy of my attention.”

Without hearing his answer, you nudged Seonghwa to lead the way again, and the sound of your father laughing sarcastically gradually faded. You entered the chambers and then the office, where the Prince sat behind his desk in a fancy hanbok.

With a deep bow and greetings exchanged, the four of you sat casually and the Prince served tea as he inquired of your health and business. 

“And who is this acquaintance of yours?”

“Choi Jongho,” Jongho answered, “I work for Madame Lee.”

“Do you?” the Prince asked and you and Seonghwa looked at each other in amusement. “I heard he worked for Mr. Lee. And anyone who works for Mr. Lee… I don’t think I’d like to interact with them very much.”

Jongho looked at you, confused before the Prince laughed, shaking his head, his dark hair messy. “I only jest, relax. I didn’t lie though.”

Jongho did relax then. “It’s true, I worked for Mr. Lee before I came here to work for Madame Lee. I’m not sure where I stand right now.”

“And do you trust him?” Prince Hongjoong looked at you.

“Respectfully, I trust nobody- not even you, Your Highness,” you gave him a subtle bow of apology and Seonghwa and the Prince both shared a grin at that. “You can’t ask me if I trust him.”

“Fair enough. Shall we get to business?”

You nodded and Seonghwa cleared his throat. “Mr. Lee just met with Prince Woobin- since he’s making clear whose side he is on, I think we don’t need to hide anymore. It’s going to get bloody here pretty soon anyway. And now Mr. Lee must know whose side you are on, Madame Lee.”

“It’s necessary that he knows,” you nodded and the Prince agreed. “And when he stays on his toes, that’s when it’s the easiest to catch him in my trap. You see… My father has a habit of being a bit too careful. I intend to exploit that weakness of his.”

“Would you like to give him a heads-up that you’re catching on?” The Prince rested his head on his hand, elbow propped lazily on the table. “I don’t think he’s the type of person to stop after becoming the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which he surely will- he just secured his position with Prince Woobin.”

“You’re right about that,” you nodded. “He’s after something- I’m not sure what yet, but something that will give him a reason to annex Mist Island- Eden’s prince is funding this operation, I’m sure.”

“Something that will be big enough to provide a reason…” Seonghwa pondered. “Whatever it is, who could possess such a thing? Prince Woobin would never keep it in his residence.”

“Anyone the Prince trusts?”

“Maybe you should look out of the picture too,” Jongho said and everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. “Isn’t the Minister of Defence very suspicious too? He’s keeping tabs on you all, he must have a reason to do so other than simply being too interested in your lives.”

You nodded, feeling a little proud for a moment. “He’s right. I think we should start there- he’s been out catching your spies too, Seonghwa.”

“I took care of that,” he assured and Jongho sighed in realisation. “What do you think we’re looking for here? Physical evidence of some illegal movement occuring in the court?”

“That’s our best bet,” you nodded. 

“Thanks for making time today. We’ll let you know how to proceed forward- keep your eyes and ears open… both of you,” the Prince looked at Jongho and he nodded.

As Seonghwa accompanied you both to the palace gates, you paused before you could exit. “Have you heard any news about my mother?”

“Not yet,” Seonghwa shook his head in disappointment. “I can’t seem to find a lead, and that’s more suspicious.”

You nodded, thanking him. The carriage ride back to the hotel was rather quiet as the two of you sorted your thoughts out. However, that night, after you clocked out, a knock sounded on your door and you found none other than Jongho at your doorstep. You let him in and resumed cleaning your swords. “What’s keeping you up tonight?”

“Many things,” Jongho admitted. “But first of all, why are you obsessed with your swords?”

“Maybe I just like the idea of a neat and clean blade slicing through someone’s throat?” You suggested.

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you actually know how to use them,” Jongho snorted. “I thought you were a spoiled brat who only cared about her business and how she looked.”

“You weren’t wrong, but has your presumption about me changed yet?” You scoffed.

“I now think that you are a spoiled brat who only cares about her business and how she looks- and her swords.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Jongho felt pleased- that was the first time he heard you genuinely laugh. “You can’t blame me for being obsessed with these beauties.”

“Anyways… What should I tell your father about today’s meeting if he asks? Because I’m sure I’ll get cornered by one of his men pretty soon.”

“What would you say?” You asked, waiting for his response and he nervously fidgeted.

“That you’re obviously on Prince Hongjoong’s side, and are planning to find out why he wants to become the Minister of Foreign Affairs, but you have no idea what to look for?”

“You’re getting good at this,” you smirked. “My influence is clearly rubbing off on you, I see.”

“Bound to happen when I’m with you basically all hours of the day,” Jongho rolled his eyes.

You finished cleaning the last sword and started packing them in their cases. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing, Jongho?”

“I… actually don’t really know what exactly you are doing,” Jongho sighed. “You seem to be doing the right thing but there’s a lot of mystery still surrounding you, and honestly I cannot make a judgement right now.”

You nodded, finally meeting eyes with him. “Why did my father raise you?”

Jongho pursed his lips. “My father was apparently close to your father.”

“When did they pass away?” You asked.

“I don’t recall many moments of them… I think I was four,” Jongho answered. 

“But why would my father raise you?” You tilted your head. “He couldn’t even raise me right. He’s no philanthropist.”

“I don’t know,” Jongho was being honest, and you heard what he didn’t say out loud- I intend to find out. “Where is your mother?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, and Jongho could hear the honesty in that statement too. “I don’t even know if she’s alive or dead. Last I saw of her was when she left for Eden almost a decade ago.”

“Was that before or after your father had his shoulder surgery?” Jongho asked and you frowned. “Because she was there before that, in the house. I was there too. I heard that she left for Mist Island- I remember because your father said he wished his wife was there to take care of him when he was ill.”

You felt blood rush to your head- why did your father conceal this fact for you? All the decades spent sending people to find your mother in Eden, when she was supposed to be right here? Jongho noticed your clenched jaw and paling face. “Did you… think she was in Eden?”

“Are you sure?” Your voice was steel and gaze fiery. When Jongho nodded, you took a deep breath. 

What other secrets about your mother was your father keeping from you? How would you confront him about this- or rather, would you ever?

“Thank you for telling me that, Jongho,” your voice was still the same- unwavering. “You can leave now- it’s late.”

Jongho nodded, getting up and about to go to the food but then he paused. “If you want… I could help you look for your mother-”

“You will do no such thing,” you almost spat it out and Jongho frowned. “Did my father order you to tell me that?”

Jongho scanned you in confusion for a moment and then scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe this. I just thought I could help and you think it’s not me but your father speaking? I’m disappointed in you… y/n.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as the two of you glared at each other. “How can I trust you when I don’t even know who you are?”

“I don’t know who you are either,” Jongho challenged. “Yet here I am, betraying my boss for you. I should have thought twice,” he said and left the room, leaving your cheeks burning with shame at what you had actually done.

You supposed Jongho was right- he was actively betraying the man who had raised him for you. Maybe more because of whatever he had come here to find but perhaps because one day, he could use your help too. And what had you given him in return? Disappointment. 

You decided to reconsider whether you really needed Jongho as a bodyguard… or as a person you could keep close and confide in. A partner. 

It didn’t sound so bad. 

—---------------------

You found out Jongho could be pretty sulky too when he got angry with someone- or maybe with you, he was being dramatic. 

As you went to sit at the counter with Sakura, you noticed Jongho was already having tea in his usual spot while he read the newspaper. He only glanced at you once and didn’t meet eyes with you for the rest of the day. You were a bit amused, if you had to admit. Of course, you were going to apologise- you had been in the wrong- but you wanted to see the lengths to which Jongho could go consumed with his anger.

And the fact that he was usually somewhat rational, or maybe unaffected, by whatever you did? Or whatever stunt anyone else pulled, for that matter? You didn’t know whether to be worried or be amused, so you were feeling both. And the fact that you were worried was something you didn’t want to think about right now. 

You weren’t expecting any special guests at your hotel today- usually, whoever wanted to trade secrets sent a message in advance unless it was urgent. But the last thing you were expecting were a bunch of soldiers from Eden advancing into your hotel like they owned the damned place. They looked around as if expecting to see someone suspicious but upon finding no one and having alarmed everyone present, they settled at the bar corner. You sighed- you feared they might get drunk and create a mess. Soldiers from Eden generally had no morals- especially when it came to Mist Island.

Jongho also noticed how arrogant those men were but they recognised Jongho and the man who seemed to be their leader- a rather young soldier with an eyebrow slit- greeted Jongho with a bow and perhaps, asked what he was doing here. You couldn’t hear them but you saw Jongho dismiss him with a polite smile- he probably told him to mind his own business.

“Make sure they don’t create a scene,” you told Sakura and she nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose bridge before she went to whisper the orders to the rest of the staff. You had to take a little break to freshen up.

But while you were gone and the men had a few drinks, it got louder. By the time you returned, you noticed how most of the customers were annoyed and were trying to leave without attracting attention. You groaned, making a mental note to ask your father to keep his minions under control, but then you heard one of the men bark some orders to none other than Sakura who was passing by.

“Hey, you with the glasses! Where are my drinks? Why is your service so damned slow?”

“I apologise,” Sakura bowed. “I’ll check what’s taking so long.”

With a desperate glance at you, she went towards the kitchen and you met eyes with Jongho, noticing even he was annoyed. Still at the counter, you watched one of the maids set the tray on their table while they snickered and whispered things- probably commenting on her and trying to rile her up. Thankfully, she was a patient one, and after doing her job, she was about to leave when the supposed leader asked her where the woman with glasses was.

You watched Sakura frown as she made her way to the men and he started complaining about how she should have done better. You’d had enough- you started making your way towards the group but a loud shatter of glass breaking made everyone, including you, gasp.

“Why are you being like this?” The man was smirking devilishly as he grabbed Sakura’s wrist- the glass having fallen from the table as a result of her struggle. Before Jongho could get up, you raised a hand, indicating to him that you would handle it. Without waiting for his answer, you walked to the group and locked eyes with the leader.

“Is there a problem here?”

The man scanned you rather slowly with a smirk plastered on his face. “And who might you be?”

“The owner of this hotel. If you have a problem, you better discuss with me.”

“You? The owner?” The man scoffed and looked at his gang and everyone started roaring with laughter as if you had made a joke. “I guess you’re better than this one here. I was just looking for someone to… entertain us.”

One of the men on your left tried to grab your wrist. With your right hand, you snatched a plate from the table and smacked it across his head, shattering it in the process, and with your left hand, you produced a dagger from your pocket and swiped it across the leader’s hand that had been holding Sakura’s wrist. They roared with pain while you pointed the dagger at the leader’s neck, Sakura hiding behind you. Still, the leader managed to slice your arm with a table knife but you didn’t let the burning pain take over you, instead, you almost tried snatching the knife from his hand when Jongho interrupted and pointed the gun at the man’s head.

“Are you all fools, parading into the hotel of Mr. Lee’s daughter, creating a scene and hurting her?” Jongho roared with anger at the soldiers and saw the colour drain from their face when they made the connection- Jongho worked for Mr. Lee after all. The leader scoffed in disbelief, earning a smack from Jongho across his face. “Wait till Mr. Lee hears about this- I’ll make sure none of you can ever step foot on this island.”

“We didn’t know!” One of the men yelled at him. You glared at him.

“You’re a guest on this land, sir. You should have acted like one.”

“Get lost before I lose it,” Jongho told them and they all grabbed their things before skittering away, glaring at Jongho this time instead of you. You rolled your eyes, turning to Sakura.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, Madame,” she bowed her head in shame. “I should have done better. I should have cooperated-”

“I didn’t train you to be weak. I trained you to stand up to whoever dares to oppress you. You should have done what I did- that’s my only disappointment from you,” you smiled at her, touching her face. “You did well.”

Sakura smiled warmly. “Let me clean this mess up, at least.”

You chuckled at that. “You do that.”

Jongho heard that conversation and sighed internally- he hadn’t expected you to be so stupidly brave. “You know… the situation could have been handled in many other ways.”

“Ah, yes,” you turned to him. “I could have slit his throat. I didn’t. Kind of regretting it right now.”

Jongho shook his head. “You should have let me handle it. I’m your bodyguard, and yet… you took the lead. And now you’re hurt,” he pointed at the bleeding arm, the blood trickling down your hand.

“I’ll take care of it- it’s no big deal-”

“Let me,” he said with a tone of finality and didn’t wait for your response as he made his way upstairs, pausing to make sure you were following. The two of you entered your room and he asked you where your first aid kit was.

“I can take care of it,” you said as he brought the kit to the table, making you sit at a chair and he dragged his chair in front of you. You tried rolling your sleeve, flinching- your favourite plum gown was beyond repair as blood had spread all over.

“Just shut up and let me do something,” he fiddled with the kit and you gaped at him.

“Dropping all formalities, are we?” You scoffed. You didn’t get an answer in return- he dipped cotton into alcohol and glanced at you once before rolling your sleeve upwards gently, examining the cut. You pouted- it wouldn’t need stitches but it was deeper than you thought.

Jongho cleaned your wound patiently, rubbed an ointment with a swab and even covered it in gauze and bandaged your arm neatly. After he was done, he was still holding your hand in his and he sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done anything and let me handle it.”

His voice was low and barely a whisper. You frowned, trying to figure out how to respond. “I… handled it alright, didn’t I?”

“You could have been more hurt,” he insisted, finally looking at you. “How many times have you encountered people like these? Do you realise what you do is so dangerous as well? How could you not have someone to protect you before I came?”

“I can protect myself,” you insisted. “I really can. I have, all my life. Now is no different.”

“Do you have to be so stubborn?” Jongho sighed. “Let’s forget about the past, but today… You should have let me handle it.”

You shrugged, aware of how he was still holding your hand- so unlike him. “I know- I just… old habits, I guess. And you weren’t in the best mood either, so…”

“You really think I would have let you get hurt just because we had an argument?” Jongho gaped at you.

“Well… that would have made you a lousy bodyguard then.”

Jongho smiled at that and you wondered why it relaxed you so much- that the tension in his shoulders was gone. “Does it hurt too much?”

“Uh,” you took your hand from him, bending it at different angles. “I’ll take something for the pain.”

Jongho relaxed back, watching you. You stared back, mustering your courage before you took a deep breath. “I’msorryforlastnightIwasrude.”

“What was that?” Jongho scoffed loud enough to annoy you.

“I said,” you enunciated each word perfectly this time. “I’m sorry for last night. I said some things and made some assumptions I shouldn’t have. I know it was wrong of me to do so.”

“That’s okay,” he replied. “I should have… I shouldn’t have suggested helping you. I’m only your bodyguard.”

“No,” you shook your head at that. “You’re much more than that. I took you for granted, it’s just… you have to understand how it is with my father. He’ll do anything to ruin me, which has made it so hard for me to trust anyone. To trust you. I’m trying to, but honestly, you haven’t given me anything.”

“I realise that,” Jongho nodded. “I also understand where you’re coming from. I trusted Mr. Lee for my whole life until I heard something I shouldn’t have and when the opportunity to come here arose, I had to take it. And I might need your help too.”

“Well,” you smiled at that. “I guess we can both help each other.”

“I guess,” he smiled back before sighing. “I don’t remember my parents much. I think you don’t either- our families were close, though. I have a picture- perhaps you recognise them,” he said and fished in his pocket for his wallet, where he had a picture of his parents with Mr. Lee. You nodded.

“I’ve heard my father talk about them when he reminisces about the old times.”

Jongho nodded. “This isn’t public information, but my parents were spies for the King. He used them to obtain information on Eden and other nations. I don’t know what the nature of their job was exactly, but from what Mr. Lee had told me they passed away during a mission- my father was caught by soldiers from Eden and my mother escaped with me. She handed me to your mother before going back for my father- the two never returned, and they were found dead a few days later.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” you frowned. “How old were you?”

“Four,” he said, leaning forward. “Which is why I don’t remember much. But a few years ago, I accidentally heard him talk to one of his closest men- a spy as well. I heard him asking whether he really had taken care of all the people who had witnessed my parents' death. That’s… suspicious, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you admitted. “Do you think he’s hiding something from you regarding the incident?”

“It’s just the way he talked… it felt like he, too, had witnessed it. And if he really has… that means he lied to me. What would he lie for? Were my parents traitors to their homeland, Mist Island? Did they really die because they got caught during a mission? It doesn’t make sense anymore, and I came here, hoping I’d find some answers without Mr. Lee’s knowledge.”

“I think your best bet is asking Mr. Lee himself or the person he talked to,” you pointed out. “My father doesn’t really keep physical evidence of things he’d like to hide.”

“That’s true,” he nodded slowly. “The man he talked to- he’s Mr. Ahn. You know him, right?”

“Mr. Ahn?” You frowned. “He’s his secretary, but… do you know what his real job is?”

“I don’t?” Jongho frowned in confusion as well.

“He’s an assassin. The best of the best. There’s a reason my father is still alive after all he dares to do,” you told him and Jongho groaned in disbelief. “Also… what happened after you were given to my mother? I don’t remember seeing you- I do have faint memories of playing with a kid that could have been you.”

“When your mother came the last time I saw her in Eden, she told me something. She said she wished she could have raised me. She also told me not to trust Mr. Lee and that everything that I thought was the truth was not. She told me I was being used- and then Mr. Lee interrupted and I never got to ask her what exactly she meant. I thought that wasn’t something new- all of us know we’re being used by Mr. Lee one way or another. We know not to trust him with our life. But the way she phrased it… I could never get it out of my head, though it started making sense later when I heard Mr. Lee’s conversation with Mr. Ahn.”

You let that sink in. “Did my father take you with him when he left for Eden? When you were… around six?”

“Yeah,” Jongho nodded. “I was raised in his house.”

“I’m still wondering why he would bother with you- he’s not the type to raise his friend’s kid out of love. If not out of love, perhaps out of guilt? But that man rarely ever feels guilt, so… I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to make a loyal servant out of you.”

Jongho laughed at that. “I was, in fact, that, until a few years ago when I overheard that conversation. I thought I misinterpreted that but then your mother said some things, and I was lost.”

“Well, I hope you can find your answers,” you said. “I’ll look back at the house again- there must be something rather than nothing there, if you found that picture as well.”

“Thank you,” Jongho looked at you. “Why do you think your mother disappeared out of the blue? Do you really think she did?”

“She started to hate my father with an intensity that was unimaginable. She never told me why. But… I don’t think she would have left me alone if she ran away from my father. He says she might have died in Eden since Eden wasn’t in the best shape at that time- a lot of women met unfortunate fates. But you say she left for Mist Island, which changes everything as well. The fact that he keeps insisting that she’s dead…”

“Well, I guess we can establish that Mr. Lee is a liar and we can’t believe a word that comes out from his mouth,” Jongho said.

“True,” you nodded. “I still have my sources looking for her in Eden, and now here too. Keeping an eye and ear out for any news, any sighting of her. I’ve found nothing all these years. I just want to know if she’s alive.”

“What should we do?”

“We plan,” you smirked. “He will become a minister soon- we can’t stop that. But once we find something that shows evidence of his corruption, it’ll be more satisfying when he has to step down. We become aggressive with that approach so he focuses only on that while we look into the past in hopes that we find our answers. Are you in?”

“I am,” he nodded- the plan made sense. “So we really are a team now, huh? Am I still your bodyguard?”

“If you love protecting me so much,” you said and he laughed at that, making you smile as well. You liked the way his eyes curved and his lips stretched into a wide smile. “I’d prefer the term partners, but that’s only for our ears.”

“I like that,” he was looking at you with a gaze that made you uneasy. “I’d also like it if we don’t hide from each other as we find those answers.”

“You’re very cryptic,” you commented. He only smiled at that, taking your hurt hand again and caressing it once before looking at you and almost smirking before he pulled you closer, making your eyes go wide in surprise.

“I’m not protecting you because of Mr. Lee anymore. I hope you realise that,” his voice was barely a whisper and your heart swooped at that. Before you could say or do anything, he hesitated before he brought his other hand to your face and touched it once, ever so lightly, before drawing back and leaving the room.

Leaving you in a flurry of unrecognisable emotions as you sat in the remnants of his touch.

—-------------------

As soon as your father was appointed the Minister of Foreign Affairs, it seemed like all hell broke loose. The uproar in the palace as the subjects of the king expressed their disappointment in the decision could be heard for miles. The citizens started protesting especially when the soldiers from Eden started terrorising the locals, which led to innocent spilling of blood and unfair punishments- it was obvious even to a fool that the locals were at a disadvantage and were being treated unfairly.

However, your father continued to parade shamelessly through town, head arrogantly high and that permanent smug across his face. You had just been gazing out of the window, admiring the clear sky after a spell of cloudy days, when you spotted the person you least wanted to see and groaned audibly, making Jongho, who was sitting across you reading a book, look up at you, laughing to himself when he saw your incredibly annoyed face.

“I’m guessing Mr. Lee is making his way here,” he went back to reading his book.

You folded your arms as you glared at him. “I didn’t think you were actually serious when you said he would come visit any day now.”

“It was about time anyway,” Jongho flipped a page. “He’s really the kind to boast about his achievements, and you being on the side that’s against him… he’s going to rub it in your face. I suppose I’ll enjoy the sight-”

He blocked the spoon you threw at him with his book, chuckling. Before you could pick something else to attack him with, the ominous bell of the hotel door rang and you heard a good amount of people entering. With a glare at Jongho’s direction, you made your way to the reception.

“I don’t believe you have a reservation,” you said coolly, not bothering with greetings. “We’re quite full today, so-”

“Hotel Crescent,” your father looked around, pausing when he spotted Jongho who was pretending he was too busy to notice what the ruckus was about. “Business must be booming these days.”

“More foreigners than locals is not a good sign,” you raised your brow at him. He looked back at his gang of five- all from Eden- and laughed. 

“Good thing I’m a local then!”

“Are you?” You scoffed. “You haven’t called Mist Island your home in more than two decades.”

“Well,” Mr. Lee ignored that. “Can we have some coffee then? I’m here to discuss business with you, Madame. Let’s keep it professional, shall we?”

You motioned at Sakura to lead the guests to the empty table, but your father made his way to Jongho who finally looked up and pretended to be pleasantly surprised as he got up and bowed. As they seated, you watched your father have what looked like a serious conversation with Jongho. He was probably interrogating him and hearing what Jongho had to report. You made your way to that table after a few minutes, seating yourself before folding your arms and glaring pointedly at your father.

“I take it you’re getting along with Jongho here,” he smirked.

“Quite well, actually,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Let’s talk business.”

Your father took a deep breath before shifting a bit in his seat to turn towards you. “I’ve heard you trade a secret for a secret. Any kind.”

“That’s true, but I measure the worth of your secret before I give something back,” you said.

“Well, I have something for you-”

“And with people like you,” you continued, “I don’t really believe a word that comes out of your mouth, so don’t expect me to give you something back.”

He chuckled loudly at that, shaking his head and looking at Jongho as if they could share that sentiment. Jongho, to your relief, didn’t respond. Mr. Lee shook his head. “How about this? You give me a secret about your dear Prince Hongjoong, and I’ll give you something you can’t resist.”

“First of all, I don’t have a very personal relationship with Prince Hongjoong,” you began. “I could have been working for Prince Woobin had he not resorted to ugly means instead of asking first like any respectable man should. Secondly… no thanks.”

“Ah, I’ll let Prince Woobin know that,” your father said as if he was quite friendly with the prince. “He thinks we lost what could have been a wonderful ally in this… game we’re playing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t think he thinks that. He has people everywhere. He doesn’t need me.”

“And yet…” he locked eyes with you. “He fears Prince Hongjoong is growing stronger with each passing day, and he only has his own little group of spies and… you.”

You didn’t hide your smirk. “What do you have to offer?”

“I could tell you about your mother,” your father said and your heart sank. “I hear you’re looking for her in Mist Island too now. I could help you look for her.”

“What makes you think I need your help now, after all this time?” You replied, not letting him detect the agitation in your tone. “I’ll manage on my own, thank you very much.”

“I could tell you whether she is alive or dead, whether she’s here or in Eden or in another country as well. Are you sure you don’t want this?”

Unconsciously, you glanced at Jongho who was already looking at you. Somehow, his gaze alone made you gather your nerves of steel back and you looked back at your father. “If you don’t have anything better to offer me, then we’re done.”

You saw your father’s jaw clench and you smiled in satisfaction. If he had offered you the same thing a few years ago, you would have given him anything he wanted. You were not that person anymore. With a sigh, he got up and his men followed. He looked pointedly at you. “You’ll regret this.”

“Will I, now?” You scoffed, getting up and standing in front of him. “You’ll regret stepping foot back at Mist Island soon, Mr. Lee. Brace yourself.”

Your father left with disdain in his eyes and you waited until he was gone before you practically rushed upstairs to your room, shutting the door behind you as you began to process everything.

Your father knows where your mother is. He even knows if she’s alive or dead. He just didn’t bother letting you know, all these years. Why? Was there a reason behind it or was he just a sadistic bastard who loved seeing you suffer?

A knock sounded on your door and you heard Jongho call your name. “Can you let me in?”

“Now’s not a good time,” you hesitated before you replied, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack.

“All the more reason to let me in,” he said. You contemplated for a moment before wiping your eyes and opening the door for him, not looking at him as you went to stand near the window. 

“Are you… okay? I know it’s a stupid question but… talk to me instead of keeping it in. I can see that it’s killing you.”

For a moment, you wanted to ask Jongho who he thought he was to make assumptions like these (even if he was right). You wanted to fire him for crossing the formal boundary between you two- even though you two had established that he was not working under anybody now. You wanted to tell him to go back to being Mr. Lee’s loyal servant. But as you glanced at Jongho… you realised he was pretty much in the same position as you- it looked like your father knew what really happened to his parents as well, and he couldn’t ask him. And he wasn’t just your bodyguard anymore- you two were way past that. From eating your meals together, plotting schemes, trading secrets- you were partners now. 

“It’s funny, Jongho,” you sighed. “If he had made this offer a while ago, I would have accepted. It’s making me wonder where I stand now. I never pledged my loyalty to Mist Island and to Prince Hongjoong. I’m still searching for my mother. Yet here I am, protecting him and his land, throwing away the chance to end this quest once and for all.”

“You made the right decision,” he insisted. “At least about not letting your father hold that power over you. And I can see why you like Prince Hongjoong- he’s helping you look for your mother even in the midst of all this, even when you never asked.”

Your heart swelled- Jongho understood. “Does it make me a bad daughter, Jongho?”

“It doesn’t,” he moved from the fireplace and walked towards you, standing by your side as you both gazed at the sun setting over the busy streets of the town. “You’ve never stopped looking for her- you’re doing everything in your power. How could you think it makes you a bad daughter?”

“I’m just… tired of looking,” you sighed, putting a hand over your quivering lips. “It’s been years and it’s like she never existed. She disappeared without a trace. Did she abandon me on purpose? I keep thinking that, and then I remember how she promised me that she would never, and then I think I’m a bad person for thinking that-”

“Hey,” Jongho watched you hide your face away from him as your shoulders shook. Hesitantly, he put a hand on your shoulder, caressing it. “It’s okay to have these thoughts. But you know what? You won today. You don’t need that man to help you. You have so many people with you- Prince Hongjoong and Seonghwa have been helping you all this time because they care, because you help them in return. I am helping you- because I care about you too.”

“I just don’t know what to do anymore, why I’m doing this anymore,” you stopped crying, wiping your eyes. “Why am I running this business, putting myself in danger, when I could have lived a quiet life? Why am I doing all this?”

Jongho turned you towards him and he put his hands on your arms, rubbing them as he locked eyes with you and smiled. “You know… I thought you were some spoiled person with too much money and power but you’ve surprised me everyday. You’re nothing like your father. You trade secrets, manipulate, but I’ve never seen it bring harm to the place you live in. Whether unconsciously or consciously, you’ve been helping Mist Island itself- not the king, not the princes, but the land, your home. My home,” he tucked some stray hair behind your ear and your breath caught as he wiped a tear from your eye as well, proceeding to cup your face. “You’re so brave for doing that. Braver than any soldier. And you never gave up on your mother- that makes you the strongest person I know. And I know you’re looking into my parents, even when I never asked for it. You’re loyal to those who you choose, and I’m glad you chose me. I’m right about the last part, aren’t I? Or am I delusional?”

You laughed at that, nodding. “I think I am, unless I learn you’re still working for my father in which case, I’ll kill you in your sleep-”

Jongho shook his head as he put a finger on your lips to shut you up and your heart lurched- the air felt so thick right now, especially with his gaze on your lips. “I do think I should do something about this mouth of yours.”

He looked in your eyes and it was as if he finally realised the position you two were in- mere inches away, his hand on your face and the other on your lips. He cleared his throat as he put his hands back to your arms and you couldn’t believe that you felt anything but relief at that. You wanted his hands back-

“You can lean on me, y/n,” his voice was low. “Let’s not lean on anybody else but each other, shall we?”

You didn’t need to contemplate that anymore. As your answer, you stepped forward and put your head against his chest, almost at the crook of his neck. You felt Jongho tense and for a moment, you feared he never meant for any of this to happen, but then he wrapped his arms around you and you felt… strange, almost like you were safe. You had never felt safe in anyone’s arms before. You could feel the warmth and strength in his arms as he hugged you and you let your hands hold his jacket as you stayed like this for a few moments before you muttered a thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he broke the hug and patted your cheek once. “I’ll be downstairs- you shouldn’t keep your business waiting for too long.”

You smiled at that and watched him leave, putting your hands on your cheeks in disbelief and finding them warm. What was happening?

—-------------------

A few days later, you found yourself back at the palace- but this time, in the middle of the night. You spotted Jongho trying to fight his yawn as the two of you waited for the prince to arrive and you scoffed.

“Just yawn, big and large, and get it over with,” you told him and he sighed, grinning. You didn’t realise you were grinning back until he paused and looked at you.

“What?” He asked.

“You have a… cute smile.”

You immediately realised a few things- Jongho never expected to hear something like this from you, you never expected to say something like this to anyone for that matter, and the fact that you actually thought about this-

“It’s the lack of sleep talking, isn’t it?” He laughed this time, all gummy smiles and curved eyes and you resisted the urge to pinch the cheek of the man who was sitting in front of you. In the royal chambers. You ought to get a grip-

“Yes, but it’s also the truth,” you tilted your head as you watched him in a teasing manner. “Has nobody ever told you that?”

“Okay, stop flirting with me,” Jongho clapped as he straightened. “The prince will be arriving any second now.”

“But he’s not here right now,” you teased and Jongho scoffed at you and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ll let the Prince know he ought to think twice before disturbing your sleeping schedule because clearly it’s messing with your brain- it’s like you’re a whole new person when you’re sleepy-”

“Or maybe I’m just too wide awake for my own good-”

“What’s happening? I wanna join- it looks like something interesting is going on,” Hongjoong arrived with Seonghwa right behind and the two of you got up, stifling your giggles- giggles- as you bowed. 

You really should have taken a nap today.

“Nothing, Prince Hongjoong,” you smiled sweetly at him and he pouted.

“You’re no fun,” the prince shook his head and Seonghwa scoffed.

“You’re one to say,” he muttered as he sat and Prince Hongjoong looked pointedly at him.

“This lad is practically asking for an execution order now,” he pointed at Seonghwa who dramatically bowed in apology. “Anyways, I have information that I need to share urgently. I know what exactly it is that Woobin has been trying so hard to hide. It’s a ledger which proves that the King and Prince Woobin have been illegally depositing funds to… make a guess where exactly.”

“Eden?” You shrugged, “But then… I think there’s a third nation involved?”

“Utopia is funding Eden’s mission to annex Mist Island- it’s nothing new if we think about it. Eden’s government has always been somewhat controlled by Utopia. Eden’s prince is one fool if he thinks Utopia will just sit and watch as Mist Island and Eden become one- they’ll take over Eden right after. I don’t know what they’re blinded by, but clearly a large amount of black money makes do.”

“So the physical copy is here?” You asked and they nodded. “And it gives proof of your brother and father’s involvement?”

“Sadly, yes,” Prince Hongjoong confirmed and you scoffed in disbelief. “As well as your father’s involvement.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “How do you want to proceed?”

“We were thinking,” Seonghwa began, “We obtain the ledgers and either resort to blackmailing or make it public.”

“Wouldn’t blackmailing put your life at more risk?” Jongho pointed out. “They won’t just sit back and let you control them even if you could make the ledgers public.”

“To hold the King and Prince accountable and stop this madness, I need more power- not just the empty title of Prince by my name,” Hongjoong said. “And there’s one way the King would have to renounce the throne- if the senior scholars in the palace, all eight of them agree that the King is not fit to rule anymore. Prince Woobin’s involvement will automatically make him unfit as well, which would leave me.”

“How do you plan to convince the scholars?” You asked. “They’d believe you right away but that doesn’t mean they would agree to stand against the King himself.”

“Have you ever kept… something from all of your years in this business, all of our years working together? Something we could use now? It’s okay if you don’t want to lend us if you have something,” Seonghwa glanced at Prince Hongjoong who nodded. “But I think it’ll be helpful if we have a detailed list or something like that.”

You looked at the Prince and his loyal friend- you wouldn’t call Seonghwa anything but a friend to Prince Hongjoong. A smile creeped up your face and the Prince mirrored it.

“You have. I knew you would have.”

“I have,” you confirmed and Jongho clapped at that. “And I’ll gladly lend it to you.”

“Let us know what you want in return,” the Prince was smiling warmly, but you shook your head.

“I want nothing from you, Prince Hongjoong. I’ve never wanted anything from you. In fact… I don't know why I chose to help you, but you haven’t betrayed me like anyone else would have. You didn’t simply use me. That’s enough.”

“I told you she’s our friend,” Seonghwa grinned at the Prince and you gaped at them while Jongho stifled his laugh. 

“I guess you could call it that, though I never imagined I would have such a friend circle,” you laughed as you looked around at the three men.

“I’d like it if you could talk to me informally, Madame Lee,” Prince Hongjoong grinned. “Just call me Hongjoong. Both of you.”

“Only if you stop calling me Madame Lee as well,” you said and everyone laughed at that. “So… I do have a record of all the events that took place because of my business. Would that be enough?”

“We’d like it if you could come with us when we talk to the scholars,” Seonghwa pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “It would make a better impression- that the Minister’s daughter doesn’t approve of whatever’s happening.”

“I suppose it would be a slap on my father’s face as well,” you pondered. “I’m not sure they would like me much, though. I don’t exactly have the best reputation.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Hongjoong assured you. “So? Will you?”

“I will,” you promised.

“If I may,” Jongho began and everyone nodded. “Has anyone heard of the Twilight Society?”

“The Twilight Society?” You frowned, glancing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong who were looking at each other suspiciously. “It looks like someone has.”

“Where did you hear that?” Hongjoong’s voice was grim. Jongho straightened a bit, glancing at you.

“I imagine it exists then?”

“It existed,” Seonghwa corrected. “Long ago. No one has called its name out loud in two decades.”

“Who were they?” Jongho asked and Seonghwa shook his head.

“Where did you hear it?”

“I once heard Mr. Lee talk to his right hand man about some Twilight Society- it sounded like a name of a place or a group. I forgot all about it, but some recent digging into the past made me wonder if I shouldn’t have forgotten about it after all.”

You were confused- what was he getting at? Seonghwa was looking at Hongjoong, waiting for his sign to either proceed with the chat or shut everyone up. But then Hongjoong took a deep breath.

“Who is involved? Why are you digging into the past? The Twilight Society was dissolved two decades ago”

“My parents were spies for the King- your father,” Jongho began. “I’m imagining that the Twilight Society was some special mission group which my parents were a part of- they passed away during that mission.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “I’m not aware of the members of that society, but I’ll look into it. How does this help us, though?”

“I don’t think my parents passed away because of the enemy- I think something happened. I’m sure Mr. Lee wasn’t a member, but he knows all about what happened to the Twilight Society. If it really was a top secret mission, why does he know about it? Especially when he wasn’t an important figure back then? I’m sure none of the members would have told any outsider of what their mission was, or who they were, for that matter.”

“That’s awfully suspicious,” Seonghwa glanced at you and realised you weren’t aware of this either. “I think I should look into who the members were, and see if your parents really were members of that group. I should look into what exactly their mission was, and why no one dares speak of it.”

“Thank you,” Jongho nodded. “I’m sure the scholars wouldn’t be pleased to hear that someone like Mr. Lee knows of the King’s private matters since so long ago.”

After concluding the discussion, you and Jongho decided to walk back to the Hotel unescorted- there was this unexplainable rush of adrenaline you were feeling after finding out everything. You glanced at Jongho. “I really think we should look at my father’s old house again- there must be something back there.”

“I think so too- at first, I thought I was overthinking, but since they confirmed it…” 

You nodded. “How about we make a little detour?”

Jongho narrowed his eyes at you. “Isn’t it way past your bedtime?”

“I’m not some old cranky woman who cares too much about her ‘bedtime’,” you pouted. “Plus, I’m wide awake after that conversation back in the palace. The house is near as well- only a two minutes walk from here.”

“Well, I suppose we could-”

Jongho’s eyes caught a flash in the dark and you almost screamed when he grabbed your arms and turned around, hiding you two behind a tree as an arrow whooshed past you and hit right where you would have been. Jongho scanned you once to make sure you were okay. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

You nodded and he dared to take a peek, resulting in another arrow mere inches away from the tree you were hiding behind. You took a deep breath. “You have your gun?”

Jongho nodded. You told him your plan and he agreed. Jongho slid to his left, shooting at the direction from where the two arrows had come from and running to the other tree for cover right as you went to your right, separating from him, hoping there was only one or two persons attacking you instead of a whole group. You were right next to another street and you took advantage of the shadows and your black cloak to disappear into the street while Jongho, being a bait, made your attackers follow him away from you. But what you hadn’t told Jongho of your plan was that you were going to take a detour yourself.

You could hear the attacks- the gun wasn’t too loud thanks to the silencer but you could hear the scuffle. You went for the street across where Jongho was, spotting the men. They were two, to your relief. You produced a dagger from your boot and aimed for the closest person, hitting him square in the back.

If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your aim. 

The other man noticed his partner and aimed his arrow for you. You rolled to the side and waited for the arrow to miss you before throwing a dagger, practically blind, and missing him as well. You knew now that he was going to come for you, and you hid and waited until he did. You knocked the arrow out of his grip and almost hit him with the dagger but he gripped your wrist and twisted it painfully. You took off your hairpin, unravelling your hair from the bun, and hit his shoulder. He screamed in pain but unfortunately, his grip on your wrist didn't loosen and he twisted you until your back was flush against him, with the very dagger you had planted in his shoulder now painfully digging in your neck.

"I've waited so long to kill you," his raspy voice made you shiver. You rolled your eyes, about to hit his side with your elbow in an attempt to get free but then the man tensed.

"You move one inch and I shoot you right here." 

It was Jongho, right behind the man, and though you couldn't see him, you figured he had creeped up behind you and was pointing the gun at the man's head. The man scoffed, purposely dragging the dagger along your neck just enough to cut you before raising his hands in the air, dropping the dagger. Now free, you immediately turned and went behind Jongho.

"Who sent you?"

"You can kill me. I won't answer."

"You don't need to," you said, voice steel. "Do whatever you please with him, Jongho."

Jongho shot at the man's thigh, his scream ringing through the air before he stifled it. "Come prepared next time… if you can even manage to walk."

Jongho grabbed your hand and you both made a run for the house- someone was bound to come and check what the screaming was about, especially since this was a residential area. Once inside your old house, you shut the door and Jongho immediately grabbed your shoulder, examining the wound on your neck.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asked and you shook your head. Jongho sighed. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this was?"

"This isn't the first time," you simply said. 

"Why did you come back? I had it under control-”

“I couldn’t just leave you there-”

“You could have been hurt!” Jongho sounded exasperated but then he shook his head, touching the skin right behind the cut, wiping the trickling blood in process. “You could have been killed, and I-”

“You could have been killed as well,” you locked eyes with him. “You think I would have liked that? I came back for you. That’s it- I don’t care if it was dangerous.”

Jongho almost glared at you but soon he was smiling, brushing your hair away from your shoulders as he tucked your hair behind. The mere action was so intimate, nothing like you had ever experienced before, that you suddenly felt conscious of the distance between you two, the sound of his breath, and his gaze- he played with your hair. “I like you better with your hair down.”

You rolled your eyes at that, trying to push him away but he grabbed your wrists, making you look up at him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?”

You pursed your lips, feeling overwhelmed- he actually cared. You nodded, and he left your wrists only to wrap his arms securely around you, and this time, you hugged him back properly, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing in relief because you had been wanting to do that for a long time now. With a kiss to your temple, he broke the hug, making you raise your brows at him. 

“You make me so confused, y/n,” he almost whispered, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks as he looked at you. “I don’t know how I went from strongly disliking you to… this.”

“This?” You asked. “Are you saying you actually like me now?”

“See?” He laughed. “You’re such a tease. I didn’t like that at first, but I’m not going to complain now.”

“I’m as confused as you right now,” you put your hands on his that were still holding your face. “What do you intend to do with me, Choi Jongho?”

He almost smirked at that, leaning forward and planting a lingering kiss on your forehead first, surprising you. His hands went further down your neck, tilting your face as he kissed your cheek, almost trailing his lips down to yours-

Before you could grab him and do the deed, the sound of something crashing in the living room made you both jump and Jongho once again put himself in front of you as you both went for the living room. The window was open, however, the cardboard boxes that had been right under it were almost smashed, as if someone had stepped over them. Whoever had intruded had probably knocked something over and was either hiding or ran away. You went for the window, spotting movement at the end of the street before it disappeared entirely. 

“I don’t think we’re safe yet,” you announced. “Let’s get this over with quickly. You search the office, I’ll search the rooms.”

“Okay,” Jongho’s gaze was indecipherable and he went to the office while you went to your room first, checking the box under the floor to see if whoever intruded had something to do with this. However, your previous letter was still there. Sighing, you went to your parents’ room, searching for something you didn’t know the nature of. But anything suspicious, anything that resembled a journal or an entry book, you grabbed that and met Jongho in the hallway, who had done the same.

“Should we wait before we go back? Someone might be outside.”

“That someone could very well come inside too, so let’s just go back- I feel safer in my own room,” you referred to your hotel and he nodded, putting everything in a bag that he wore before and grabbing more weapons before you left. Your walk was swift and silent, and you relaxed once you reached the hotel. 

“Someone must have known we were going out tonight- I told no one, though. Did you?” You asked Jongho as you went inside your room and he dumped the bag on the table.

“I didn’t,” Jongho shook his head. “Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t think so, but I think there might be a rat here, in my staff,” you felt bitter at the thought alone. “I’ll think about it tomorrow, I have the worst headache right now.”

“Just sleep,” Jongho nodded. “Let’s talk tomorrow?”

You nodded, and walked Jongho to the door. You called his name and when he turned, you tiptoed to kiss him on his cheek, catching him by surprise. 

“Thank you for… everything.”

Jongho made a funny face as if he couldn’t believe it but then he smiled, waving as he left, and when you shut the door, you sank to the floor grinning like an idiot.

—-------------------

“I don’t think we’re finding anything at this rate. It’s all so cryptic anyway- what are you doing?”

You were glaring at one of your father’s journals, the entries very cryptic, just like Jongho had said. You found out that your father usually noted when exactly he met someone and at what place, and you wondered if noting it down helped him with his memory- he didn’t have a bad memory at all. That must be the reason. 

“You know, glaring holes into these isn’t going to make something pop up,” Jongho tossed a candy near you and you glared at him once before unwrapping it and putting it into your mouth, going back to what you were doing. “You’ll have better luck looking at these albums- let’s switch.”

You sighed, smacking the diary shut and slumping back. “I think we’re only wasting our time. He’s not one to leave behind any trace.” You exchanged your diaries with the albums and started flipping through them. “And even if we find something, we can’t really link anything to what’s currently happening. It’s a long shot.”

“No harm looking,” Jongho said, flipping through the pages. “Besides, isn’t it fun just sitting here and doing basically nothing? A day off from your duties?”

“I don’t remember the last time I took a day off,” you smiled, but then it faltered. “However, this is the last thing I would want to do on my day off.”

Jongho looked at you then, suddenly curious. “What would you rather do instead?”

“I don’t know,” you stretched your arms, thinking. “Visit the beach? It’s been a while, but now there are soldiers everywhere. I could go to the beach in the south though. That area has been secluded for a while and I have acquaintances who live there. It would be nice to visit them.”

“Well,” Jongho threw the diary back into the bag. “Get up then. We’re going to the beach. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you better be ready by then.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” You scoffed. “I can’t just leave like this-”

“You can,” Jongho grinned. “You’re the boss here. This place can run itself. Come on, get up.”

“Jongho,” you groaned, looking up at the roof as if that would help. Jongho only crawled behind you and flicked your forehead, making you mutter a curse at which he snickered before pushing you up. 

“Don’t be such a brat. Dress casually for once- and don’t tie your hair.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my hair-” you faltered when you recalled how you two had almost kissed last night. You glanced at him and were surprised to see a light flush across his cheeks.

“It just makes you look good. I like it, okay?” He fidgeted awkwardly and then shoo-ed you again, making you laugh as he practically pushed you inside your room. “Fifteen minutes!”

Jongho liked you, you were sure. You liked him too, there was no denying it, but you two were still figuring it out, it seemed. And you planned to get to know him today- not the Jongho who worked under Mr. Lee, but Choi Jongho, the person that he was. You shuffled through your clothes and wore a beige casual gown with ruffled sleeves, leaving your hair half tied with a straw hat, and finally pulling over your black cloak. As you stood in front of the mirror with a racing heart, you realised you were excited. You hadn’t felt like this in years.

Jongho was changing you and your life, and though you hated sudden change, you liked this. And you were realising that he was breaking your walls down. You would never let anyone get as close to you as Jongho had gotten in such a short period of time. You never trusted someone, never asked someone to trust you, yet…

You heard a knock on the door and took a deep breath before taking your bag and opening the door, both of you surprised as you scanned each other- Jongho because you really had let your hair down, and you because he was dressed in a white button up shirt under a brown coat and he looked really, really good.

“Who are you?” You asked, making him grin. “Remember to take your weapons- it’s not safe anywhere these days.”

“I’d remind you too, but I’m afraid to ask just how many daggers you keep on you.”

“Don’t ask,” you nodded, “Shall we?”

The two of you decided to take public transport until you reached the town that bordered the beach in the south. You pointed out a few spots to Jongho and he tried to recall what he remembered of Mist Island. You told him you should have shown him around earlier, but he insisted that now was okay. He also asked why you preferred the beach in the south as opposed to the one closer, when you both took horses for the rest of the path.

“It’s the one spot my mother took me whenever she felt overwhelmed,” you told him. “As you know, my father was absent for the most part of my life. Maybe she missed him. Maybe she just needed someone by her side- someone who was not a child.”

“And the people who live here, the ones you mentioned?” Jongho asked. “Who are they?”

“That’s where they live,” you pointed at a hut at the top of the hill, not very far from where you were now. “They were her friends- I don’t exactly know how. It’s been a decade since I last came here so I guess I will have to reintroduce myself. Maybe they’ll remember me.”

You tied your horses to the trees near the hut and decided to go around the beach first before visiting the hut. The beach was empty, only the sound of the waves crashing and the seagulls in the air. You took off your sandals and Jongho followed, grinning at the feeling of the wet sand in your feet. 

“This beach is a lot cleaner, I’ll give you that,” Jongho laughed.

“And there’s no one,” you smiled. “We’ve got this place all to ourselves- that’s my favourite part.”

Jongho watched you- something in you had shifted the moment you took off your shoes and started walking along the shore, occasionally bending to pick a seashell. He followed closely behind, loving the way the wind was blowing your hair away. You turned and caught him staring at you and you raised a brow. He only came beside you to walk with you.

“If we prevent this war and peace comes one day, what do you want to do? After everything is over?”

Jongho thought about it before answering. “I want to move back here. I feel like I’m home.”

“It is your home,” you nodded. “I’m glad you’re finally ditching Eden.”

“I never liked it much if I’m being honest,” Jongho laughed, looking at you. “What would you like to do?”

You took a deep breath, pausing and gazing at the setting sun, the pastels in the sky and the sea. “I want to sell my hotel and find lodging somewhere away from the city- preferably here. I could train the girls here in a variety of things- business, self defence, or even knitting. I just… want to live a quiet life…” you looked at him. “Would you like to join me? You could teach them whatever tricks you’ve learned from my father.”

Jongho threw his head back as he laughed, making you laugh as well. “Yeah? I could teach them how to deal with spoiled brats like you too.”

“Definitely,” you grinned. “What do you say? You and me in this town, away from all the drama. Living in a nice little cottage, growing our own vegetables-”

“Together?” Jongho asked, and something told you that he was talking about a lot of ‘togethers’. You looked at him, watching the wind blowing away his dark hair, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement, a faint smile on his lips. Would you like to spend the rest of your life with him? Would he like to stay your friend at the very least?

“Together,” you nodded, promising. “If you’d like-”

You didn’t expect him to cup your face and bring you in for a kiss but after recovering from the initial shock, you immediately melted into it, kissing him back, your hands fisting his shirt. The moment couldn’t have been more perfect, and when Jongho broke apart, he joined his forehead with yours. 

“I’m only staying in Mist Island if it’s with you,” he admitted, looking in your eyes for an answer and you gave him a nod, kissing him again. The waves washed your feet as you kissed, making you shiver into it, and you both broke apart, giggling slightly. You put an arm at his back, leaning into him as you both watched the sun set, overwhelmed by the emotions so opting to let the moment talk for itself.

As soon as it got dark, you both headed for the hut and you spotted a woman. “Aunt Nari?”

The woman turned and you gasped at how much she had aged- her hair had lost its colour and there were wrinkles on her face, but somehow, she was still graceful, especially in the way she walked to you and touched your face as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Y/n?” She asked and you nodded which resulted in her immediately enveloping you in a hug as she expressed how surprised she was to see you here and how much she had missed you. “Where’s your mother?”

You glanced at Jongho and then back at the woman. Thankfully, her attention diverted as well and she asked who the ‘young handsome man’ was. 

“My friend, Jongho,” you introduced and Jongho raised a brow at you before greeting the woman. She made you two sit on one of the benches, lighting the rest of the lamps before going inside for refreshments and to call her husband. Jongho tapped your shoulder.

“Just your friend?”

“What else do you suppose you are?” You teased.

“Well, I don’t know,” Jongho leaned forward, making you lean back as well but he leaned to whisper in your ear, “Do friends kiss like that?”

He was so pleased to see you blush like that, and felt victorious when you had no retort. You were relieved to be interrupted by Aunt Nari’s husband coming to greet you both.

“You’ve grown up so much!” He laughed as the couple sat down in front of you. The man looked at Jongho. “Last I saw her, she was still this much-”

“I was not that small!” You scoffed and the rest of them laughed. 

“How’s your mother? I thought she would be with you- did she forget us? She hasn’t visited us in forever.”

“Actually, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier,” you told them, sipping on the tea before continuing. “My mother kind of went missing a few years ago. I’ve been searching for her but to no avail.”

“Oh, goodness,” Aunt Nari set her cup down. “When did that happen? Where could she be?”

“I don’t know how or why it happened,” you sighed. “Last I know is she went to Eden to visit my father- about eight years ago- and then she never came back. I tried contacting you back then but you weren’t here.”

“That must have been when we thought we’d settle in Utopia,” Uncle Jung said. “We only came back to Mist Island three years ago.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Well, Aunt Nari, you knew my mother better than me. Do you think she ever wanted to run away? Simply leave everything behind and escape? You know she didn’t have the best relationship with my father.”

“One thing I know for sure is that even if she wanted to, she could never leave you,” she said and you almost slumped in relief. Jongho put a hand on yours. “Did you not find a clue or something?”

“I searched all these years in Eden, but Jongho told me she had left- presumably for Mist Island. I suspect my father had a hand in this- he clearly knows whether she’s alive or dead but sometimes he feigns innocence. Sometimes he slips and says something which makes me think if he’s behind this. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Oh dear, that’s unfortunate,” Aunt Nari looked at her husband and you noticed their cryptic gaze. 

“If there's anything you can tell me that might help… please tell me.”

“I suppose you’re grown enough to know this,” Aunt Nari looked guilty. “Your father isn’t the best man, I suppose you know that already.” You nodded at that and she continued, “Your father always wanted to involve himself in dangerous politics. Your mother opposed that strongly at first but then she gave in. The last time she met me, which must have been right before she went to visit him in Eden, she told me she was so close to discovering something about your father- something she could use to finally separate from him. He was always lying to her, that man. She knew he was a liar, a murderer, but he always denied it. She didn’t want to be with a man who she didn’t feel safe with.”

You nodded at that. You could understand that about her. “Did she tell you what she was about to find?”

“Something about this secret mission from the King- I suppose there are a lot of those, but this one somehow involved your father. She didn’t exactly tell me how or why, but she was convinced that your father had a hand in the mission going horribly wrong, which also caused the death of someone she was close with.”

You felt Jongho’s grip on your hand tighten a bit. “Is that it?” You asked and she nodded. “Thank you so much, Aunt. I’ll visit you again. I’m searching for answers myself, so this was very helpful.”

“Just stay safe, kid,” she patted your cheek as you got up. “Stay safe.”

You hugged them both, promising again to visit them when you’ll finally find the answers, and when you were about to ride back, you looked at Jongho. “This has to be connected to the Twilight Society, right? My father messed up something with that mission, it seems.”

“Let’s wait until Seonghwa confirms this,” he patted your shoulder before you two got up on your horses. “And let’s pray it’s not worse than we think.”

—----------------

Now that you had taken a step further into your relationship with Jongho, you were finding just how much everything had changed but strangely enough, nothing had changed at all. 

It was kind of funny- you both still teased each other to the point the other would be annoyed, you both still spent most of your time together. He hovered over you a lot while you were working, and when you had free time you two would talk. Yet… the way you looked at each other now was different. Every glance and every touch was more meaningful. You two didn’t have much experience in that field so you two were navigating your way together, at a calm pace. 

However, sometimes all you wanted was for him to hold you. Sometimes, at night after wrapping up, if you both were up for one last cup of tea or coffee, you two would sit by the fire in each other’s arms. He would massage your shoulders or you would play with his hair. Such simple gestures filled your heart with an overwhelmingly good feeling. And sometimes, when he would tuck your hair back before he kissed you, you would want to live in that moment forever. 

You both were still trying to figure out just what Mr. Lee’s role was in the disappearance of your mother, in the Twilight Society’s mission that had failed. With each passing day, there was this undeniable tension growing around you two. Mr. Lee was your father, and he was the man who raised Jongho. Though you two badmouthed the man all you wanted with each other, things were different now as the suspicions grew. 

As you closed the register and instructed Sakura to take the files to the storage, you glanced at Jongho who was sitting in a corner, going through some of his own work. He wanted to buy some land here since he had a lot of money from his time in Eden, and he was also trying to acquire the land that had once been his- his father’s home. You put your face in your hands as you watched him dreamily, your attention diverting when the bell rang and the customers entered-

Prince Hongjoong. Seonghwa. And a few guards. For a moment, your heart sank and an eerie silence fell in the hotel, prompting Jongho to look up as well. But when the Prince smiled after spotting you, you relaxed. 

“I’m just here to grab coffee with you, can you tell everyone to relax?” Hongjoong laughed as you greeted him.

“They can’t help it,” you grinned. 

“I’ll ask the guards to stay outside,” Seonghwa said and you led Hongjoong to the sitting area, who decided to sit with Jongho when he spotted him. Seonghwa joined and you had a maid take their order.

“Are you free right now?” Hongjoong asked. 

“I am,” you confirmed. “What prompted you to get coffee this late at night? Shouldn’t you be getting your royal sleep or something?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “I thought I’d visit here and boom your business. It’s been a while since I last came here.”

You nodded- it had been years. The only time he had visited was when he wanted to personally scout you. Hongjoong grinned. “I’ll visit more now, now that we’re… friends.”

“After all of this is over, this place might be no more,” you surprised him with that. “So visit more often, preferably months apart instead of years.”

“Alright,” Hongjoong nodded, glancing at Seonghwa and Jongho who were engaged in some discussion. “We’ve found out everything, y/n. About the Twilight Society. We have gathered proof, and I would like it if you could visit the day after tomorrow so we can talk to the scholars.”

Your heart sank. “Of course. Are you going to tell me what you learned?”

“After coffee,” Hongjoong sighed. “And alone. More because Jongho would need to be alone when he hears it.”

You glanced at him, your heart breaking. “How bad is it?”

“Worse than we thought,” Hongjoong sipped on his coffee. “I’m guessing you have a vague idea of what might have occurred as well.”

“I’ll let you tell me- I really don’t want to assume,” you took a big sip of your coffee, a million thoughts in your head, nothing making sense. Hongjoong talked a bit about the scholars and how they would like to hear whatever information you all would bring forward, but you could only pay him half the attention.

“I’ll brief him,” Seonghwa was the first to get up along with Jongho, who looked like he had no clue what he was going to hear. Seonghwa passed a subtle nod to Hongjoong and he got up as well. That was when Jongho got confused, when all of you made your way up the stairs. Jongho brushed his hand with yours, asking if everything was alright. You only squeezed it with a sad smile. “I’ll see you after we get briefed.”

Jongho nodded, confused when you parted ways in the hallway, Hongjoong following you to your room. He hadn’t missed the exchange between you two. “Is there something going on between you and Jongho?”

When you looked at him, your sad eyes were all the confirmation he needed. “Oh goodness. I didn’t realise how close you two were. Should I ask Seonghwa to stop-”

“That’s okay,” you urged him to take a seat. “Let’s hear it and get it over with.”

Hongjoong told you then. The only survivor of Twilight Society was the man who was now your father’s right hand man, who had actually faked his death on the documents to escape to Eden under the protection of your father. “Jongho’s parents were initially spies for the King before they met and fell in love. After their marriage, when Jongho was about two years old, the King gave them a mission which came to be their last.

“My father cherished his team, but this mission was risky. His spies were loyal to him so they wanted to take on this mission- they had to infiltrate Eden’s palace to retrieve some stolen documents. The mission was a success, actually. They came back unharmed, but Mr. Ahn- your father’s right hand man- he teamed up with your father to take all the glory for themselves. They stole the documents, and your father… he killed all the spies except him. After having a look at the documents, he made a copy and gave that to the King, but kept the original for himself, which is why he holds so much power.”

“Oh, goodness,” your hands were trembling when you brought them to your face. “My father killed his friends? Jongho’s parents?”

“We captured Mr. Ahn a few days ago, and he finally gave us some information but it was ugly,” he grimaced and you understood. “I’m sorry about this. I don’t know how Jongho will take it.”

“He raised him, Hongjoong,” you took a deep breath, willing your anger to subside but to no avail. “That man, that filth- he killed his parents and then raised him himself. What sort of a person does that? Jongho would have been loyal to him still had he not accidentally heard his conversation with Mr. Ahn and my mother’s warning-”

You paused. Your mother had gone to Eden. She had warned Jongho about a truth that she had discovered. Your father had heard her, and then she never came back. 

“What’s wrong?” Hongjoong frowned when he watched your face go pale. 

“I think he might have killed my mother too- she found out about the Twilight Society, Hongjoong,” you looked at him, fists clenching. “He would not have let her live, would he?”

Hongjoong sighed. “I think Seonghwa has something he would want to tell you about that matter.”

You waited, furious at everything and everyone, Hongjoong patting your back and then Seonghwa knocked and entered. One look at you and he felt like you had already connected the dots. He walked to you and sat beside you. “I’m sorry, y/n. Mr. Ahn told me your father… killed your mother. I don’t know if it’s true though- I can’t be sure if he’s lying or not.”

“I know he did,” you wiped your eyes. “He’s always hinted at that. And I’m going to kill him for that-”

“You will do no such thing,” Hongjoong’s voice was serious. “I get that you would want revenge. Jongho would too. But let us, let me handle it. People like Mr. Lee, their crimes should be made public. They need to fall from all that glory, and they need to feel the shame. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t deserve the swift death that you or Jongho would give him.”

You took a deep breath- somehow, Hongjoong was right. And somehow… you felt like you had known all this for a while. What kind of a man your father was. You nodded. “We can go to the scholars tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow then,” Hongjoong said. “I promise we’ll wrap up your father’s case quickly. This bloody mess shouldn’t turn into a war. Enough lives have been lost. Prince Woobin will be held accountable for possessing this knowledge and keeping it to himself as well.”

You were surprised to hear that- but then again, the relation between Prince Woobin and Prince Hongjoong was much like that of the one between your father and you. You thanked him for coming to tell you both in person, and when you shut the door, you thought of Jongho. 

Mustering your courage, you walked to Jongho’s suite, finding the door unlocked and you went inside, where you could hear Jongho’s soft sobs inside his room, the door shut. You wondered if you should back off and let him have some time to himself. He probably hated you and didn’t want to see you. After all, you were the daughter of the man who had killed his parents. With a wet face, you took a few steps until you were right in front of the door and then slid down, your back to the door. You could hear him- he was probably in the same position as you, with his back to the door too.

“Jongho,” you called and he fell silent, having heard you. “I’m so, so sorry Jongho. I- I don’t know what to say. I just want you to know that I’m sorry-”

He heard you break into sobs and he wiped his face. He heard you continue, “You can hate me. You’re allowed to hate me. Just let me see you once, please.”

Jongho couldn’t hate you- how could he ever? That man who was your father had also killed your mother. He had stolen as much from you as he had from him. You both were victims. Yes, you were your father’s daughter, but…

You were nothing like him, he thought. Your kindness, your dedication, your loyalty… you had basically freed him from the man who had held his clutches all those long, miserable years. You hadn’t caged him like your father had caged him. You were your mother’s daughter, the woman who had raised Jongho with enough love to last him a lifetime, the woman who had warned him and in the process, lost her life. Jongho couldn’t hate you. He felt sorry towards you- your mother had died because of him.

For a few minutes, the two of you sat like that until you heard Jongho get up and you moved away from the door, opting to rest your back against the wall. A few more minutes passed before Jongho finally opened the door and saw you with a black but wet face, knees drawn to your chest. He sat down beside you and some silent moments passed before he spoke.

“I hate Mr. Lee. Probably as much as you hate him, probably more.”

“I know,” you sniffed. 

“But y/n, what makes you think I would hate you?” he asked softly and you glanced at him. “I want to apologise too. Your father must have killed your mother after he heard her talk to me. She risked herself for me, and ended up dying. I’m sorry, y/n.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, turning to face him. “That’s not your fault at all.”

“Then you can stop crying, because being your father’s daughter is not your fault as well,” he simply said, facing you and taking your hands in his lap, caressing them as he continued. “We both lost so much because of that man. I think we should stop blaming ourselves now. I know that my parents have been dead for years now, but you only just found out about your mother. I’m so sorry for that.”

You nodded, looking down at your joined hands. “I’d understand if you don’t want to be together anymore, though-”

“And why would I leave you?” He tugged at your hands, making you look at him and your heart softened at the way he was looking at you. “You’re just y/n to me. The daughter who looked for her mother all those years. The woman who was strong enough to stand on her own feet when she was alone. The person who saved her home, Mist Island, by choosing the right side. The person who risks her life for the people she loves, for the people she chooses. The person I fell in love with- it’s not Mr. Lee’s daughter. It’s simply you.”

You smiled at that, tears rolling down your face again. “That was cheesy.”

“Yeah?” Jongho laughed, cupping your face as he wiped your tears, his gaze suddenly dark. “Tell me you love me too, y/n.”

You took his hands away from your face only to let him hold your waist as you crawled near him, sitting in his lap, running a hand through his hair, cupping his surprised face and kissing his lips once. “You made me realise there’s more to life than just chasing after something I can’t see. You’ve made me feel safe, and you made me feel loved. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else- I love you, and you only.”

Jongho sighed at that, resting his head on your shoulder as you held him, as if he was trying to let this sink in. His hands caressed your waist softly, and you played with the hair on the nape of his neck. When he finally shifted, he brought one hand to cup your neck as he kissed it, right at your weak point and you stifled a sigh. He felt that, and you could feel his smirk through his lips as he continued to kiss you along your neck, attacking your sweet spot way too many times until you moaned. You slapped the back of his neck. “Jongho!”

“I love the sounds that you make,” he muttered, cupping your face and swallowing any response you had as he kissed you with a feverish desperation- showing you that he loved you, that he didn’t want to lose you, that he didn’t care who your father was because you were the one that he wanted. You tried matching his pace but you let him have his way as he kissed all his worries and anxieties away, leaning into you with a force that had your back arching until you held onto him as he laid you down on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, as he caressed your hair. “You’re… so beautiful.”

You couldn’t hide the flush that creeped up your cheeks- you wouldn’t have believed it had he not been looking at you with such an intense gaze. You let your hands travel down his chest, stopping at his waist, earning a sharp intake of breath from him, and he waited no further to start peppering kisses down your face, down your neck, and then you were making out again without any signs of stopping.

“Shall we take this to bed?” You suggested when you two broke apart to catch your breath. He smiled as he lazily kissed your lips again and again. 

“If you’d like, Madame,” he whispered into your ear, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth and you laughed, smacking his chest. 

“You’re naughtier than I thought.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen the best of me yet,” he said, picking you up effortlessly, earning a little scream from you, and you knew Jongho was strong but the way he had picked you up? Without flinching? It was hot, and it sent heat rushing through your body, especially when he put you down on the bed ever so gently.

“It’s a challenge,” you grinned, and he didn’t disappoint you for the rest of the night.

—----------------------

Mist Island had changed a lot in the past few weeks, ever since Prince Hongjoong was officially appointed as the person in charge of the palace, Prince Woobin having been exiled for his crimes, and the King having stepped down from the throne. Hongjoong wasn’t king yet, but already the people were absolutely pleased with him- all the traitors to the safety of this land were behind bars.

That included your father- with the heaviest sentence. His involvement was not made public simply because it would have caused the people to lose faith in their government and their officials, even though all of you would have loved to see his walk of shame. He had committed every crime that he possibly could, and the world was better off knowing such a monster never existed in the first place. 

You also found out just who the rat in your staff had been, who had been reporting to your father and the reason you were almost killed that night when you visited the palace. It was none other than Sakura- the person you worked closely with, the manager when you were absent. However, surprisingly enough, she had come clean to you herself, claiming to not know the extent your father was willing to go (after all, what father would do that to his own child?) and claiming that she was threatened with her own life too. 

You let her off the hook, only because you were closing down Hotel Crescent. A friend of yours from Eden was visiting and offered to buy the place, and you were glad for the timing. It couldn’t have been more perfect. You wrapped up everything in a matter of days before handing him the keys and taking what little you owned to your house.

You were going to keep the house, but you weren’t going to live there. You still wanted to move to the south, and you had even bought land near the beach, where currently your house was being constructed. Your and Jongho’s house, with wide gardens so you two could train people as well, just as planned. 

You looked at Jongho, laughing over something with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, who were currently in your house. You smiled to yourself, picking up the tray and setting the tea and snacks in front of them before sitting beside Jongho. “What’s so funny?”

“I have a job offer for you,” Hongjoong was grinning and you raised a brow in amusement. “I will be crowned king soon. Seonghwa would of course be my Right Hand, but I could use both of you too. I’d like you as my advisor, and Jongho as the head of security. If you’d like.”

You poured tea for him and laughed a bit as you looked at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s faces, anxiously waiting for your answer. “I… would love that-”

“See, I told you she’d agree!” Hongjoong began-

“But,” you interrupted, “Not now. I don’t think I’d make a good advisor right now. I would like to live peacefully for a while, without a threat on my head as it has always been. You, of all people, would understand that.”

Hongjoong smiled warmly. “Of course. What do you plan to do?”

“Live with Jongho at the beach in the south,” you picked his hand and showed off your engagement rings to the two of them who clapped enthusiastically. “Just take a breather. Maybe train the women there in various skills. Jongho would like to do something similar as well.”

“You two could train our future spies while you’re there,” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong who nodded and then at Jongho. “Would you like that?”

“Training your spies for you, but they would be answering to me,” you sipped on your tea and everyone laughed. You shook your head. “I would… like that, actually. And maybe once I’ve had enough of the seaside and once we’re sick of the beach, we’d come back. What do you say?”

Jongho squeezed your hand. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Well then, do come visit often. Don’t just forget us,” Hongjoong said.

“Don’t pretend not to recognise us when we come to visit,” Jongho said and everyone laughed at that. 

“You’ll make a very good king, Prince Hongjoong,” you told him and his eyes gleamed at that. “Don’t disappoint us. Remember- we can always kill you in your sleep.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have made friends with you,” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa who was grinning. 

The four of you talked and joked and teased each other for a good while until it was time for the Prince to leave. You told them you were leaving for the south tomorrow as well. They shook hands with you and thanked you for your service. Hongjoong said, “I owe a lot of my success to you. I hope you know that, and I hope you appreciate that my doors are open for you, whenever you’d like.”

“And I owe the fact that I’m taking a breather to you too,” you nodded. “Come visit me for a vacation sometime.”

The two left and Jongho put an arm around your shoulder. “I’ll kind of miss them, even though I haven’t known them for long.”

“I know,” you smiled. “They really grew up on me.”

“You looked pleased when you showed off our rings,” Jongho teased and you laughed. “Are you that happy?”

“Of course I am,” you turned to him, straightening his shirt before putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’ll show it off to everyone I meet. I’m proud of us.”

Jongho smiled at that, and as you hugged each other, you knew that you’ll be at home with him wherever you go- whether it be the palace or this house or the south, or even another place, faraway.

He was your home.

[soccerwag]

If your taking requests could you write something with Luka Modric and fem reader

Luka in an interview talking about reader

Him and reader knowing eachother since they were kids and always teaming up when playing football against others. Maybe they started dating as teens and getting married young.

-🍷🍷

Sorry it’s so late! I had began writing it earlier then accidentally swiped out of the tab and it deleted everything. Anyways I hope you like it!

————————————————————————

Summary: Modric was asked at an interview what his relationship status with you was leading him to call you and have you answer the question for him.

Warnings: none

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So modric, the fans have noticed you’ve been hanging around a female a lot recently, could we possibly know who the lucky woman is? Or what your relationship status with her might be?” The interview asked. It slightly caught modric off guard only because he thought he had hid his outings with you quite well but apparently there is always at least one person watching. Nevertheless he smiled. He loved the thought of you. He loved you.

“Well she’s a special girl to me, we’ve been friends forever.” Modric said trying to move on from this question. He tried really hard to keep you and his relationship private. He didn’t want you to go through what he does with all the paparazzi and fans crowding him at every moment. He also didn’t want your life to be solely based on being with him. He wanted you to live as normal of a life as you could.

You and modric have hid it pretty well. You guys got married at 19 and had your first kid at 20. You both currently have 3 kids but nobody knows about them due to the fact modric avoids posting anything about them. You do of course because nobody knew who you were.

“Is she just a friend? Fans seem to think you guys were very close and touchy when they’ve seen you.” The interviewer poked more.

“Hold on one moment.” Modric said before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

I was at home cooking for the two older kids while holding the baby in my free arm. She was nursing at the moment. Our three kids range from 17years and 2 weeks old, our middle child is 7. We have two boys and one girl. The youngest being the girl. While I was stirring the pasta I heard my phone buzzing.

“Hello?” I said, answering the phone without looking who it was.

“Hello gorgeous, what are you up to.” A familiar voice asked.

“Well currently trying to feed our ravenous boys while breastfeeding our little chica.” I told him.

“Well I’m in an interview right now and they’re curious about our relationship status and I thought you’d be a great candidate to tell the world.” He said slightly chuckling.

“You’re on speaker.” He told me and then went silent so I could respond.

Right when I was about to respond my 7 year old came running through the kitchen with a pair of his fathers boxers on his head and a blanket wrapped around his neck like a cape.

“WOOOHOOO CAPTAIN MODRIC TO THE RESCUE.” My seven year old son yelled. I would like to assume that everyone on the other end had heard that since I heard laughter coming from the other line.

“KARLITO TAKE YOUR FATHERS UNDERWEAR OFF YOUR HEAD AND STOP RUNNING AROUND THE KITCHEN!” I scolded him.

The second I heard my sons voice through the phone I burst out laughing. I knew there was no way of hiding them now. I laughed even harder when my beautiful wife yelled at him to take my underwear off his head.

“Sorry love, I’d love to answer the question for you but I have to go, my pasta is boiling over and out seven year old has a death wish.” Y/n explained before telling me goodbye and hanging up.

“Well then, that basically sums it all up.” I said looking straight at the interviewer.

“So you have a kid?” He asked, kinda shocked.

“Three in fact, two boys and one baby girl.” I said proudly. I was proud of the family I created.

“The so called mysterious woman all my fans see is in fact my wife, we’ve been married since we were 19.” I said, smiling at the memory of the day we got married. One of the best days of my life, besides the birth of my children.

“Well this is all very new but very great information.” The interviewer responded.

“I hope all my fans will support me as well as respect my relationship, I love my wife and kids and I’d never want anything to happen to them.”

“They’re my world.”

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter Chapter 5 (Bodyguard!Dave York x AFAB Reader)

AN: It’s finally here!!! This chapter took way longer than I expected it to, but it was so much fun to write! I hope you all enjoy! The school year is coming to an end, so hopefully over the summer I have more time to write. Seriously, guys, people reading and enjoying this makes me so happy. Thank you so, so much. -Megan

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY, minors...no.) 

Word Count: 5.7k 

Warnings: Smut (not with Dave don’t get too excited...) non-descriptive PIV sex, really bad sex, hints of BratTamer!Dave, bratty reader, unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcoholism, references to drug use, mental illness, violence, infidelity, age gap relationships. 

Prolouge Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4    

Dave has no fucking clue why he allowed this.

 The uncomfortably nice dress shoes he’s still wearing stick to this sketchy bar floor, with every uncomfortable shift of his feet he hears how disgusting this floor is, he feels his feet struggle to pull away, he doesn’t even want to know what mysterious substances he’s standing in. He’s watching you down shot after shot. Probably on your fourth… maybe fifth? You’re still okay, he can tell, probably just now comfortably drunk. Not shit-faced… not blackout. Just drunk. Used to your routine now, he knows exactly when you need to stop. As soon as you start breathing heavily, or your eyes turn drowsy and sad, sometimes you even start huffing air out of your mouth and poking your cheek slightly to feel the slight numbness there, that’s when you’re done. 

 The night after you and your father had your falling out, Dave sat on your floor silently resting his back on the dresser in your room, the knobs of the drawers digging painfully into his back, watching you lay on the ground, seemingly in a whole other universe. After a while, you stood up, determination etched into your features, grabbing a little black dress from your closet and slamming the door to your bathroom. He remained of the floor, knowing where this was going, he was so ready to tell you to sit the fuck back down, clearly not in the right mental state to go out, but 15 minutes later when you emerge, in nothing but a simple black dress. Yet, you look anything but simple. The dress stops at your mid-thigh, he can see the beginnings of a flower tattoo on your thigh peeking out from below the hemline. You haphazardly applied your makeup, mascara smudges on your lids, lips glossed, the faintest bit of glitter dabbed directly on your lower lash line, catching the light, looking remarkably similar to the tears you were just crying on your floor. 

 Dave’s not sure why… but suddenly he can’t find it in him to argue with you. He just grinds his teeth, “One fucking drink,” he growls it like a threat. It is. 

 He doesn’t stand by it. 

 On the car ride to the nightclub you chose, you’re chewing on your fingernails, biting them down to nubs, a nervous habit of yours, you wish you could stop. Looking out the window, your leg starts to bounce, up and down. Dave takes the moment to lay down his rules. 

 Rule 1: “Don’t you fucking dare trying to leave his sight” Not that you could. Eventually, you tried, you definitely fucking did. Trying to slip between crowds of people. But Dave, never looked away, always found you. Dragging you by the wrist outside the club, glaring at you, muttering under his breath something about how you’re on “thin fucking ice.” 

 Rule 2: “When I cut you off, that means you’re done. No questions asked.” Fine. A little harder to avoid that rule, since you’ve already learned from Rule 1 he watches you like a hawk. Dave follows you to the bar, when you place your drink order, Dave leads you back. When you’re too far gone, Dave walks up to the bartender, and closes your tab while you’re still dancing. 

 Rule 3: “No drugs.” As if you needed reminding. You get caught with Percocet once apparently it follows you for the rest of your life. Who knew? 

 As he rambles on and on about his rules, you’re still chewing the nail of your thumb, tapping your foot on the ground. You want to ignore Dave, say something snarky in response, but he has such an aura of authority radiating off him, you can’t even begin to think of something sly to say back, afraid of the consequences. 

 “Yes, sir,” it’s mumbled, your eyes are still intently trained on the blurred lights of Norfolk, VA, as your private car speeds down the street. Passing people walking on the sidewalk, laughing, holding hands, dancing. You’re too focused on what you wish you could have to notice Dave’s eyes darken at the nickname. 

 At the nightclub, against all expectations, you’re shy at first. Stiffly tapping your hand on your thigh to the beat of the music. Making a beeline for the bar, the bartender greets you by name, with a warm smile. You return the gesture, as he slides a shot in front of you. Without a second thought, you tilt the shot back to your lips, swallowing the drink with practiced ease. The fruity shot is bearable to you, but you still wince at the burn and the sharp aftertaste of vodka. Still nervously looking around the room, looking uncomfortable and completely out of your element. 

 This pattern repeats for you. You look like a fish out of water, until around, shot number 5, when you’re officially calm enough to get on the crowded dance floor. 

 It’s how tonight is going, as you’re grabbing a group of 3 girls you just met by the hand, dragging them through the crowds to a mostly empty spot. Your hips moving rhythmically to the song that’s far too loud on the bar speakers. Your outfit leaves extraordinarily little the imagination, ripped jeans, your faithful converse, and a tiny faux leather top. You opted to go braless, and Dave can see the way your breasts move under your shirt as you dance, he can see your nipples pebble under the cool air of the bar. 

 Dave knows if he can see it, everyone else in this bar can see it. He’s not sure why that thought bothers him. 

 Leaning against a pillar in the corner of the dance floor, watching man after man approach you asking for a dance. You always give them a polite smile but shake your head no, usually leaning forward to whisper to your friends about the interaction. His fists clench as he watches the men walk away dejectedly, making sure they don’t turn back around. 

 He’s had to step in a few times, pulling an overzealous man refusing to accept a polite no as an answer out of the bar, pushing him to the curb. 

 He wishes he could knock their teeth inside their skull. 

 He knows this is a really bad idea. He knows that allowing you to drink away your sorrows isn’t healthy. He knows this is your fucked up way of avoiding the issues in front of you. He knows you’re out there, drinking until you’re numb, finding your validation from the men who approach you, smiling every time a new man approaches. Laughing as another asks you to dance. He can see the way your eyes light up at the attention. He knows you’re still hurting. But, Mr. Leland did say you could go out, so he’s in no position to tell you no. 

 It’s been a month since Mr. Leland and you had a falling out. The house is still filled with an awkward tension, like a dam about to burst at any moment. You’re doing everything you can to avoid your father slinking out of rooms like a spooked cat whenever Senator Leland enters. Your father is making non-verbal, vain attempts at an apology. Stocking up the fridge with your favorite sodas and snacks. Early one morning, Dave exited his bedroom, pulling himself out of the almost too soft mattress with a groan, leaving to do his morning check in on you, he opens the door to find Mr. Leland leaning on the wall next to your bedroom door, the telltale sign of his stress painted across the lines of his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

 Mr. Leland looked up at Dave, nodding, before he left with a shy smile. Seemingly losing the courage to knock. 

 You’re no better. You spend your mornings sleeping till noon, when you wake up you sit on your bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone or reading, Peeve lays loyally next to you, bringing you stuffed ice cream cones and dirty socks when you look especially sad. You always give her a delighted giggle before kissing the top of her head. 

 Dave sits, usually playing sudoku, sometimes with Peeve on his lip, or slipping into his room to call his girls until you’re ready to leave. Most of the time, you don’t leave till it’s closer till 9, when it’s finally acceptable to go out drinking. Weekdays you opt for a quaint Irish pub, weekends, you prefer the bustling, grimy clubs that line the streets of Norfolk. They’re loud, they’re packed, you can easily slip into the crowds and go unnoticed. 

 As unnoticed as someone as beautiful as you can be. 

 Dave tries to shake that thought as soon as it enters his head. 

 But watching you, right now, so lost in the music, hair thrown up into a messy hairstyle to stay out of your face while you dance, your smooth skin glistening with glitter and sweat, hips rolling sensually to the beat that Dave can feel in his chest; it’s impossible to not notice how beautiful you really are. 

 A handsome, college-aged boy with a curly mop of sandy blonde hair approaches your with a smile, politely holding out a hand for you. Dave scoffs, knowing your routine by now. You’ll give him that shy smile, and turn to a girl and start dancing with her to shoo him off… 

 Imagine how caught off guard he is when you follow the first part of the formula, nervously smiling at the boy, before grabbing his hand. The boy smoothly pulls your into a spin, before wrapping the hand that isn’t holding yours around your waist, smiling at you with a goofy grin as he does. The music in this club is ridiculously loud, but Dave swears he can hear your laugh over it. Your head is thrown back, freely giggling, as the boy leans forward, chasing you, to whisper something in your ear. Your eyes widen, before you laugh, actually laugh, not a polite, fake laugh. a real, genuine laugh that leaves you breathless. The boy lifts his arms, pulling you in for another spin, allowing you to move closer to him. The two of you start to dance a little more erotically, swaying in perfect synchrony. Dave’s fists clench when the blonde’s hands drift lower, resting on your hips, guiding your movements. 

 Dave’s ready for you to shoo him off, hell, Dave is ready to push through this crowd and rip the bastard off you himself. His face grows hot when you smile, turning around, pressing your ass to the guy’s dick, guiding his hands to your waist. Dave watches, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, when your eyes meet. 

 You don’t look away. 

Neither does Dave. 

———-———-———-———-———-———-——

You’re not sure why, but Dave’s gaze emboldens you. Your hands slide up your body, fingertips catching over the lower swell of your breasts, reaching up to tangle in your hair as you continue to grind into the blonde. You can feel the mystery man behind you start to react to your movements, his dick hardening and pressing into you as you move. 

 It pushes you further. 

 You grab his hands, guiding them to your breasts, and you moan, not from the feeling of his hands on your chest, but from the way Dave’s eyes harden and he stands up straighter, shaking his head just slightly as you move. It feels so fucking good, watching him react to you. Since that night with your vibrator Dave has gone back to being the perfect bodyguard, refusing to speak to you about anything other than your safety, his eyes remaining respectfully on yours, ignoring your soft whimpers when you’re plunging your own fingers into your dripping pussy as he sleeps across the hall. 

 Seeing him right now, barely holding back jealousy… it’s turning you on. So, you grab the blonde, spin him around so his back is facing Dave, and you lean forward and whisper in his ear, asking him if he’d like to come home with you, the house is empty, and the look Dave is giving you is filling you with a desire you haven’t felt in quite some time. You don’t look away from Dave as you bite the blonde’s earlobe. He smells like tequila and an unholy amount of cheap cologne. But you can feel Dave’s eyes on you as you pull mystery man’s earlobe between your teeth. It’s Dave’s gaze that eggs you on, not the sharp gasp from the man pressed in front of you. 

 Holding back a smirk as Dave’s lip starts to curl in anger, you grab the boy’s hand and walk toward Dave, making sure to sway your hips more than usual with every step. Dave wants to break the boy’s neck when he noticed the boy behind you shamelessly watching your ass. 

 “Fucking pig,” he thinks. 

 You’re more than a little tipsy, but completely drunk off the look Dave is giving you. It’s that same annoyed look he gave you the morning you two first met, but now you know that you did this. You have enough control over him for your actions to get him red in the face, to have his eyes almost black with frustration, to get his body so stiff with jealousy that he looks like he may snap at any moment. You did this. 

 You decide to see how far you can take this. 

 “Miss Leland,” he greets you as you get close, eyes burning through you, voice raw. 

 You fucking love it. 

 Pulling the blonde’s hand, you drag him toward Dave. “Dave…this is…” it hits you in this moment that you don’t know this guy’s name. Dave raises his eyebrows, putting a hand on his hip, “this is… some kid dancing with you at a bar?” He looks the boy up and down, scoffing and shaking his head at you, “is he even old enough to be in here?” 

 The boy beside you starts to open his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand in his direction, cutting him off. In the corner of your eye, you see his shoulders fall in dejection, but the rush pumping through your veins at the power you clearly have over Dave leads you to not care. 

 “Is there a problem you wanna address with me Dave?” 

 The corners of his lips fall downward into a frown, he shrugs indignantly, “You don’t even know the guy’s name and you’re practically fucking him on the dance floor. Is there a reason you brought him over here to me? What you wanna ask for my blessing or something?” 

 Mystery Man butts in; “Actually I…” 

 Dave silences him with a glare. Mystery Man lifts his hands in surrender. 

 “I can go… if you, or … your daughter I guess feels more comfortable?” 

 At the same time Dave says “yes” you say “no.” You shoot Dave a glare, before turning to Mystery Man, “he’s not my dad,” you tell him, your voice laced with annoyance. Before you soften your gaze, placing a seductive hand on his elbow, batting your eyelashes at him, “Please, baby I want you to stay.” Turning back to Dave, “Call the car. I’m taking him home.” 

 Dave pushes off the wall he’s leaning on, throwing his hands up, scowling at you; “Whatever you say, princess.” 

———-———-———-———-———-———-——

Mystery Man is apparently named “Seth” which… yeah makes sense. He’s studying business at Old Dominion University, and he’s in some sort of frat on campus. Kappa Omega? Whatever. They’re all the same. Your dad is in DC for … something, giving you the entire house for yourself. You obviously didn’t bother to ask why he up and left, given the circumstances, so it’s just you, Dave, and Peeve in the house. 

 When the car pulls up to the driveway, Seth lets out a low whistle at the sight of your beachside mansion. He chuckles, sounding a little bit too much like that one lifeguard from SpongeBob, before starting to talk about how cool your place is, and how “you could throw a really fucking killer party in here!” 

 Dave gets out first “don’t you fucking think about it.” he says, pointing a finger at you, while he uses his free hand to help you out of the car safely. The feeling of his hand gently grabbing yours makes your heart rush in your chest. 

 Dave slams the door before Seth has a chance to get out. 

 Before allowing Seth into your bedroom, Dave has to search him, you know, normal bodyguard shit. He’s patting Seth down, asking him to empty his pockets. Seth pulls out a magnum condom with a goofy, lopsided grin. Dave rolls his eyes, straightens up, and looks at Seth with a deadpan expression. Doesn’t say anything. Just stares at Seth blankly with his hands on his hips until that stupid fucking smile falls from his face. 

 “I patted the motherfucker down… he’s gotta be joking…” he thinks. 

 He shakes his head and walks away. 

———-———-———-———-———-———-——

Okay… maybe you’re exaggerating how good this feels. 

 Never mind, you’re definitely exaggerating how good this feels. 

 Seth isn’t the most… well-endowed man you’ve ever met. Usually, that’s not a problem. If the person is able to have a simple understanding of female anatomy, basic listening skills, or is willing to learn. Problem here, Frat-boy Seth think he’s a sex god, and doesn’t need to listen to the criticism and advice of the girl he’s fucking. 

 Even better, he’s completely oblivious. 

 You move his hand to where your clit actually is, and somehow, someway, he’s back to stroking the outer lip of your pussy, whispering in your ear how he knows it feels good and you don’t need to “move his hand away from where it feels good, baby, it’s supposed to be sensitive.” 

 At one point, he has a finger shoved inside you, and he moves, the tip of his finger barely grazing that spongey part inside you that has your breath hitching in your throat. You moan, a real fucking moan, and tell him “Fuck… yes… just like that” and he responds by … doing the complete opposite of “just like that” roughly jackhammering the finger inside of you, feeling like he’s trying punch your g-spot out of your body. You try to redirect, but it’s no use, he’s in his own little world. You fake an orgasm, loudly moaning like the girls in porn videos clearly catering toward the male gaze. Seth loves that shit. Whispering in your ear about how he can “feel your pussy cumming. I feel it tightening around me, baby.” 

 Yeah, right. Okay. 

 Now, he’s got his dick inside you, while you just … lay there. You tried to interact, moving your hips to get some pleasure from the hookup, but he told you he “gets distracted” when the girl tries to move. So, here you are. Starfished on your own bed, looking up at the ceiling, moaning as loud as you can, trying to convince Seth he’s doing a good job so this can hurry and wrap up. 

 Deep down, you know you’re moaning this obnoxiously so someone other than Seth hears. Maybe someone devastatingly handsome, who radiates dominant, masculine energy, completely fucking hates you, someone you want to suck off until he’s sobbing from the pleasure? 

 Thinking about Dave has definitely made this unfortunate experience a little bit better. You close your eyes, trying to imagine Dave is inside you, not this random fucking frat boy, but you know Dave would be pounding you into the mattress, a hand wrapped in your hair, the other stroking your clit, until you’re soaking his dick with your cum. 

 The thought causes your pussy to tighten around Seth, and he whispers something about “wanted to cum with you,” his breath hot and humid on your neck, as he starts to stroke your “clit” again. 

 You indulge him by giving him a high pitched, girlish moan, and a strangled “oh fuck!” while flexing your pelvic muscles. 

 It’s an Oscar worthy performance. He’s whispering that he “loves making a pretty girl cum” completely clueless to the fact that you literally don’t feel a thing. Even worse, he’s breathing heavily in your face, the smell of hot tequila making this situation even worse. You’re doing everything in your power to imagine yourself literally anywhere but here. This has been the longest 10 minutes of your life.

 Finally, finally he cums. Silently. No noise, just him hovering over you, jaw dropped, furiously ripping off the condom while he jerks himself off, spilling onto your stomach. 

 Seth groans, laughs, and tells you “That’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” before getting up and starting to button the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt he was wearing at the bar.

 You grimace, wiping up his cum with a ball of tissues from the box next to your bed, in the process, you hear a faint “oh… oh fuck,” in a soft voice of panic from Seth. 

 You’re considering the possibility of a broken condom or something like that, before Seth is shoving a wet, obscenely warm, tequila scented hand over your mouth. 

 Your eyes shoot up to look at him, giving him the best “What the fuck?” eyes you can muster, but before you can fight him off, he’s pressing a finger to his lips, shushing you. His cellphone is pressed to his ears, and though you can’t hear exactly what’s going on the other line, you can hear the shrill sounds of a girl yelling angrily. Seth keeps his hand pressed to your mouth, and clears his throat, in a calm cool voice he tells the woman on the other line, “It’s fine, babe. You know, Colin’s just throwing up in the bathroom so I’m chilling with him in there. That’s why it’s so quiet, I’m not cheating on you… Babe, come on, I’ve told you this. You’re being ridiculous! You know I love you.” Seth says all this bullshit while his dick is softening against your thighs, and his hand is still tightly pressed to your mouth. 

 Holy shit. What a fucking asshole. 

 Without a second thought, you bring your right hand up and slap Seth across the face. The satisfying crack echoes through your room. You can feel your blood pumping through your veins. Fuck this guy.

 Poor girl… not only has she been with the human embodiment of a shitty frat party, and she’s probably been stuck having the worst fucking sex of her life, the motherfucker is a dirty, disgusting, cheater. Fuck you, Seth. Fuck you and your stupid Hawaiian shirt. 

 Seth recoils from the slap, dropping the hand over your mouth to cradle his cheek which is quickly spreading a red blossom over his face, giving him a bright red flush. His eyes start to water, and the fucker has the audacity to say, “why’d you do that?” his voice cracking and shaking with the wounded ego he’s currently experiencing. You can hear his poor girlfriend on the other line yelling louder at Seth, so you take the opportunity to let her know how much better she deserves, yelling “You fucking dick! you fuck me, but don’t tell me you have a fucking girlfriend? get out of my house!” throwing the dirty clothes littering your floor at the half-naked Seth. 

 You’re reaching into your dresser, grabbing and putting on a T-shirt, long enough to give you some semblance of modesty, as you’re still throwing shit at Seth, nothing breakable of course, anything you can get your hands on, really, but hopefully it’s enough for him to get the picture. Not because you’re mad at Seth because you were hoping for something more, honestly, this behavior tracks. You're really pissed you didn’t expect this from him. A blonde, business major frat boy? You should’ve known. Your heart is just breaking at the thought of the role you accidentally played in hurting another woman. 

 Seth’s face is rapidly turning a brighter red, from the handprint imprinted on his cheek, and from the anger and embarrassment of being caught cheating. He’s swatting away the things you’re throwing at him, trying to reason with the girl on the phone, telling her you’re a liar, that you’re just drunk and jealous and mad that he rejected you. 

 God, you hope the girl sees through it. 

 Everything snaps when Seth calls you “an ugly fucking bitch!” and tells you he’s gonna “go to the press! tell them how crazy Senator Leland’s daughter is!” 

 Your blood runs cold, and you stand frozen, staring at Seth for a moment. You can barely consider what to do next, but Dave decides for you. The door to your room flies open, and Dave strolls over, calmly, to Seth, grabbing the phone from his hand, Seth tries to grab it back, Dave simply says into the speaker “he’s a loser, dump him.” and hangs up, dropping it to the ground. All the while, Seth is scrambling to his feet, throwing threats at Dave about how he’s “so fucked dude!” and “my dad’s a lawyer, asshole! I’ll get you fired.” 

 Dave turns to you, hands on his hips, face perfectly neutral, but you know him well enough to see the frustration in his eyes. It’s comical, really. He’s so casual, mildly annoyed, while there’s a whining, fully grown man child in a Hawaiian shirt, Winnie the Pooh style, threatening him with legal action, entitlement dripping from his voice. Dave raises his eyebrow at you, shakes his head, and walks over to Seth, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the house silently. 

 Watching Dave pull a man out of your room with such ease… shouldn’t be as hot as it is. You walk out the room, following Dave, curious to see the situation fully divulge, when Seth yells, “she’s a fucking bitch dude! I was gonna propose to that girl and that whore up there ruined it for me!” 

 Yikes. 

 It doesn’t bother you, you’ve been called names before, you regret the situation, but you didn’t know, and you did do what you could to let mystery woman know what a shitbag her boyfriend is. You don’t really care about what Seth has to say. He’s a wounded puppy with a far too big ego. But looking at Dave, watching his jaw clench and unclench, his eyes almost completely black, you know he cares. 

 Without warning, his knee flies up to Seth’s stomach. He doubles over in pain, groaning holding his stomach. Dave watches for a moment, before grabbing Seth by the shoulders, turning him around, gripping the back of his head, and slamming his head down onto the railing of your staircase with a loud thud. Seth’s body immediately goes limp. 

 You stand at the top of the staircase; your stomach feels like it’s pooling in your feet. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. Dave is breathing heavily as he rolls up his sleeves. He looks like he always does, slightly frustrated, but his eyes are wild and his shoulders shaking with the deep breaths he’s taking. You look at Seth, slumped on the stairs, holy shit… “Is… is he..?” Dave gazes at you for a moment, his brow furrowed, his eyes softening when he processes you standing there, before he looks down at Seth, chuckles, and kicks him lightly on the side, you’re met with a quiet groan from Seth’s lips. “Nope. Still with us. Having a rough day though. Gonna be having a really rough day tomorrow.” He shakes his head in disgust “He’s lucky that’s all I did,” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear it. 

 You nod, taking a shaky inhale in. Dave bends over, and grabs Seth under the shoulders, dragging his limp body down the stairs. Seth’s eyes blink in confusion, before falling shut again. When Dave turns, you take a moment to admire how the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing is tightening around his shoulders, emphasizing his shoulder blades and the expanse of his back. Dave looks like he’s done this hundreds of times, dragging a dead weight, that is. The thought should scare you, but … it doesn’t. It just makes you feel… warm, safe. He did this for you. He didn’t care about the insults Seth was throwing at him, but the moment Seth said something about you Dave lost his composure. He’s doing this, to take care of you. The thought bounces around your head…

 It’s fucking hot.

 When Dave and Seth disappear from the front door, you walk back into your room, cleaning up the aftermath. You’re completely sober and wound up. The horrible sex, and your ever-intensifying attraction to your extremely hot and capable bodyguard, has you feeling like a coil about to snap. 

 You’re picking up socks, keys, bookmarks, rings, things you threw at Seth in a blind rage. Bending over to pick up the items, you’re not wearing any underwear, and the frigid air hitting your pussy makes you incredibly aware of how turned on your actually are. His calm, cool, expression as he brought Seth down on his knees, the power radiating off him, the bulge of his biceps as he pulled him down the stairs. The way he did that for you. 

 Fuck… it’s almost too much to handle. 

 Your door opens with a click, and you let out a quiet squeal at the sudden noise. You turn to see Dave entering your room, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a slight red splotch of blood on the cuff. Your eyes widen as you stare at it, and he follows your gaze. 

 “Hit his head pretty hard,” he explains “head wounds bleed. He’s still alive. Called a car for him. He’ll be fine.” 

 You nod… “is he going to…” you trail off, the thought scaring you so much it dies on your tongue. 

 “Don’t worry, princess, he’s not telling the press. I made sure of it.” 

 The inherent mystery of the statement leaves many doors open about how he made sure of it… but you can’t find it in you to care. He did this all for you. 

 And that damned nickname. The way it drips from his lips like honey. Deep down, you’re aware that he means it as an insult, a way to hurt you, call attention to your spoilt nature, but it just makes your heart skip a bit and your breath catch in your throat. 

 You release a shaky gasp. You know, by the way his eyes narrow a little, he heard it. 

 He clears his throat, jerking his head toward your bed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

 You look around, shrugging at him in confusion. 

 He stands, staring back at you, gaze unwavering, “Sit down.” 

 “Excuse me?” you ask, your voice full of incredulity. You cross your arms defiantly, “Why?” 

 You see Dave, tilt his head to the side, like he expected this behavior. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, eyes cold and never leaving your gaze. He takes deliberate steps forward, until he’s right in front of you, cornering you against your bed. You try to maintain unwavering eye contact, but he’s so close to you. He’s so big and so broad, he’s enveloping all of your space, you’re surrounded by him. 

 He looks down at you, hands reaching up to touch your shoulders, you immediately crumble, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

 “Good. Was that so hard, princess?” He sounds amused, he’s biting back a smile. 

 Bastard. 

 You cross your arms again. “What do you want, Dave?” 

 He’s standing over you, hands coming down to rest on his hips, “did you learn your lesson?” He asks, like you’re a child being scolded. 

 You let out an annoyed gasp, scoffing at him, you roll your eyes like a frustrated teenager, “Oh my God, Dave, are you fucking kidding me? Come on, I- “ 

 “Shut up.” He doesn’t yell it, he doesn’t growl it, just … says it. 

 You stop in your tracks, all arguments getting stuck in your throat. 

 “Did you learn your lesson?” He says each word with deliberation, looking down at you, when you don’t answer immediately he raises his eyebrows, your cue to keep talking. 

 “What lesson?” Your voice is softer now, slowly giving in to him. 

 “Bringing a stranger home. Did you get the attention you were looking for? Was it worth it? You got nothing out of this, and you know it,” he shakes his head, laughing bitterly under his breath, “fucking boy couldn’t even make you cum.” 

 What? 

 You made sure to moan… loud. He definitely heard you, there’s no way he didn’t. You were acting like you were auditioning for an adult film. You did it on purpose, that’s for sure. Even though it’s true, you didn’t cum, how does he know that? 

 “What? What the fuck Dave? Were you listening in on us?” You ask, feigning offense, disgust, and shock. Really, you’re happy he heard. You wanted him to hear. 

 He couldn’t know that though. 

Still, a part of you is fairly sure he already does. 

 “You definitely didn’t, princess. You can’t lie to me on that one.” He smirks, it’s almost cruel how he’s looking at you. You feel so small in front of him, your face hot with embarrassment, your cunt throbbing with need. 

 You force yourself to make, and hold, eye contact with him. “I’ll have you know, I did cum. I came, hard, Dave.” Your eyes are just as cold as his, you’re lying through your teeth. 

 He smiles, “Sweetheart, I listen to you cum every single night. Walls are thin, princess. I’ve heard it all, and what you did with that boy? That wasn’t it. That was a show you put on for a guy who has no clue what he’s doing.” 

 Your blood turns cold, heart falling for a second. You’re confused, embarrassed, and still so turned on. Before you can begin to create a response, Dave reaches into your bedside table, pulling out the vibrator. He tosses it at you, you still haven’t moved, just staring at him in shock. 

 “Finish yourself off, princess. I know you need it.” He’s got this ridiculously sexy, smug smile on his face. He watches you for a moment, smirking at the look on your face, before he turns his back, and leaves. 

 You’re left alone, on your bed, so you do what he says. 

 As if you had any other choice. 

Taglist: @fatimaisabelpascal @hayley1623 @marysucks-blog @pedro-pedrito-pascalito​ @casa-boiardi​ @stevie75��� @pedritosdarling​ @fckinel​ 

if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know! 

[whiskeyswriting]

Chaos Activated

📝 A/N: No prompt just word dump of hilarious chaos the Dagger Squad causes… Mainly the Chaotic Trio: Maverick, Rooster, and Whiskey (Reader’s Call Sign) Oh and Reader is Slider’s daughter…! Fic based on the comments of this post.

It was a miracle that Maverick and Rooster survived the mission despite the near death experiences. The both of them had to thank Hangman and you for saving them and getting them back to the ship.

What was more of a miracle was that Vice Admiral Cyclone did minimal shouting at Rooster for breaking orders and going after Maverick.

Now they were being taken to the infirmary to check and treat for any injuries. You don’t know why the doctors and nurses even bothered trying to separate the two.

Despite their rocky past, the two deeply cared about the other. You knew Uncle Mav did what he thought would be best for Rooster by pulling his papers. It was something you and your father never agreed with and expressed it to him.

Rooster was like a cousin to you and you knew he was just as stubborn as Mav. You couldn’t help but love the two to death. (Sometimes quite literally).

The weeks passed and you all found yourselves back at The Hard Deck. It didn’t matter how much you tried to behave, you knew, one way or another, Mav and Rooster would end up dragging you into their schemes.

“No! No! No way am I going to use my daddy’s name to get Cyclone to give us another three free days to play dogfight football,” you say.

“C’mon kid. You’re a Kerner. You’re Slider’s sunshine. He’ll move earth and planets to make the Navy listen to you,” Mav says.

“When did you turn into a poet?” You ask sarcastically.

Bradley throws an arm around your shoulder. “Princess. Whiskey… We all know Cyclone is sweet on you. Live up to your name Whiskey. Use those smooth words and seduce him.”

You can’t help but start laughing. “You do know I don’t have to seduce my own boyfriend?”

Penny comes over and refills your drinks. “I can already sense the chaos activating with you three.”

“I’m heading out to the beach to get away from these two troublemakers,” you say taking your drink with you.

Penny winks at them and at that moment the rest of the squad came out from hiding. “So is the plan set?”

Phoenix nods. “I’ll go keep her distracted for a moment but then Mav and Rooster come back into the mix while Yale and Fritz get Cyclone here.”

Fanboy starts setting up the camera to record the planned proposal.

But Penny knew. She already knew that whenever the three of you got together, nothing would ever go according to plan. She started closing out tabs and closing the bar early.

All of a sudden the aviators hear shouting and see Mav and Rooster running along the beach and you running after them yelling.

A group of college aged guys were following the three of you. It was then they realized that Mav and Rooster used you as bait to steal the guys’ football to start their own game.

Bob looks around a bit panicked. “Shouldn’t we stop them?”

You can feel uncle Goose and Ice just shaking their heads in disbelief. “I know… I know,” you mutter as you keep running after Mav and Rooster.

Penny finally rushes outside. “Did I miss anything? I closed off the bar. I didn't miss it right?”

Hangman hands her some popcorn (that mysteriously appeared) and a drink. “No you are just on time.”

Suddenly you feel yourself getting thrown over someone’s shoulders. You are about to start screaming, thinking it was one of the college guys. You then recognize the backside you’re looking down at. “Oh hey!” You give it a squeeze.

Maverick and Rooster stopped running and ended up explaining dogfight football to the college guys when they spotted you being carried by Cyclone. They shake their heads.

“As I live and breathe… I never thought I’d see Cyclone running at the beach?“

“Was that supposed to happen?” Bob asks looking around. “Did we all see the same thing?”

Phoenix wraps an arm around Bob’s shoulders. “Cyclones loves Whiskey too much to actually be mad at them. Mav and Roos on the other hand,” she says grimacing.

“Wait… I thought Rooster and Mav were supposed to be the distraction so the admiral could propose.”

“Wait! Whaaaa?!??” Hangman exclaims choking on his drink.

Payback helps pay his back. “We talked about this, you idiot. Next time stop looking at yourself so much in the mirror.”

“I have the flowers in the bar’s office” Bob says.

“I have the Avenger theme song… but wedding version ready!” Fanboy adds.

“I have my suit ready!” Harvard says. “I’m ready to look good for wedding season! All those push-ups help.”

Coyote shakes his head looking over the squad. “’m just here for the chaos and snacks.”

“Soooo what's the plan now?” Penny and Amelia, who had recently arrived, ask.

They all turn to see Cyclone spinning you in a circle as he hugged your waist. The only movement that was clear to them was your nodding.

🏷 List: @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @callsign-dragonbaron

[valkwise]

PLEASE READ!! Donations to the Hajjaj family's campaign have been extremely slow!!

This campaign is verified by the Butterfly Effect Project. Click here, find the "Verified Campaigns" tab, and check line #947.

Abod's campaign has received only 3 donations in the past two days. He has not even reached 1/3 of his goal.

Abod is fundraising to evacuate his wife, 1-year-old daughter, parents, and one of his brothers. His father uses a colostomy bag, his brother is diabetic, and his mother is receiving blood cancer treatment in the West Bank (yes, funds are still needed to move her across the border with her family. Where she is now, she is completely alone). Abod's baby girl Leen was also born premature, and her health is delicate. Leen had been refusing milk. She is doing much better now and is in good spirits, but she has visibly lost weight.

The other night, while my husband and Abod were messaging, an i*raeli quadcopter fired into Abod's home. Thank God, no one was hurt. But Abod explained that this is a regular occurrence -- these quadcopters fire into homes late at night to frighten, maim, and kill Palestinian families at random. As you may have seen in my previous post, Abod's third story home is almost entirely without walls, and thin blankets are the only thing between his family and the occupation's ammunition. The remaining walls of his home are already riddled with bullet holes.

Abod has only reached €7,497 of his €30,000 goal

Also, I'm mailing mystery prints to anyone in the US who gives at least $10 (or the euro equivalent), and if you donate any amount and send me an email, I'll send you some comic PDFs (more info here).

Thank you for reading. If you are able to give, please give. If you can give consistently, give consistently. At the very least, please share this post!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Got any prompts for John Thomas Ward from Faith meeting a Paranormal Investigator! reader, who was Amy Martin's childhood friend and wants to stop Gary?

At first, you were in it for the thrills. That's all. 

Paranormal investigating was just a hobby you enjoyed, although most of your discoveries were just candles being mysteriously blown out or unintelligible whispers replayed on a spirit box. But you were content with whatever you found and what little communication you made with spirits.

Now. Things have changed.

Never in your life did you expect to join a priest in his mission to save a girl’s soul and stop a horrible evil from breaking through into this world.

Yet here you both were, investigating the clinic where your friend Amy once worked. You were searching for demons or clues as to where Gary could be attempting to perform the Profane Sabbath.

You had a bone to pick with that cultist freak for what he did to her. Learning of her possession when you came over to visit one day had you furious. Gary used her and now she was gone...with some beast using her face to carry out its misdeeds and terrorize her family.

The tapes you have of it speaking in her voice still haunted you to this day. It was the clearest recording you’ve ever gotten of an entity from the other side, but god..you’d trade it for anything else in the world.

Anything but her.

So you decided to come to the clinic to do your own investigations into what happened there--where things might’ve gone horribly wrong between your childhood friend and Gary.

That’s when you ran into Father John Ward: the priest who allegedly killed Amy one year after the brutal murder of her parents and an elder priest.

At first you had nothing but insults for him, especially when he revealed he attempted an exorcism twice on her and failed both times. You thought he was just a fraud posing as a pastor.

Though..you could see his guilt, and he explained to you in great detail of the horrors he’s seen. But even then you weren’t fully convinced that he was capable of undertaking this mission to find Gary and stop doomsday from coming--as evident by his copper-colored crucifix.

He begged you to believe him, insisting he wants to save Amy’s soul just as much as you do, showing you a note that implied Father Garcia trusted him.

Eventually, you caved and refused to turn him over to the police..

Under the condition that you tagged along in his quest.

Reluctantly, he accepted. But only because you may help him find answers about what Gary’s done at these locations by contacting any resident spirits there. Plus if you could get proof to clear his name should he need it...that would be especially helpful.

So together you snuck into the dark and decrepit clinic, curious as to what you may find lurking inside. There were many boarded-up doors and ultrasound photos strewn across the floor.

As John walked past a lone IV drip, you stopped as your EMF device emitted a beeping noise. You took it off your belt loop, aiming it towards the stand.

The beeping persisted.

Jackpot.

“Oh! I caught an EVP. There’s a spirit right here.” Your eyes lit up, though you frowned as the priest took out his crucifix. You waved him off. “Save it. I gotta know more about this before you do your exorcism thingy..assuming you can do that.”

“I can. I’ve done it many times.” He huffed, a bit annoyed that you refused to trust him. “You know, I read of other investigators similar to you. They were at Snake Meadow Church-”

“I know what happened to them." You cut him off. "It’s a shame but..there’s consequences for getting too greedy with capturing spirits on film. I’m only here for answers and to help give them some peace, knowing someone's listening to them. Whatever evidence I take home is just a bonus.”

That seemed to shut John up for the moment. He just watched you prepare your equipment near the IV stand while looking out for any demons that could sneak up on you both.

Once you were all set up, you kept tabs on the spirit box and EVP recorder, doing your best to communicate with the spirit once it made its presence known on the radio frequencies. You asked a few questions regarding what happened here and if it knew of Gary.

John remained behind you, silent. All he heard was static, whispers, and a slight crying noise on the spirit box. Though he was impressed. 

You clearly knew what you were doing.

After some time you decided to stop, not wanting to overwhelm the ghost with too many questions. And he blinked as you packed up your things. “What did it tell you?”

“There’s a lot of interference. I’ll have to parse through it when I get home. But I did hear a voice....it sounded miserable. Like it was crying, almost.” You frowned slightly. “It mentioned Gary and needles. Maybe his freakshow cult is pumping patients full of drugs and getting them high.”

“It would explain why they infiltrated the clinic.” He remarked, raising his cross. “Now will you let me free this poor soul?”

“Do as you wish, Father.” You backed away, bowing slightly in a mocking gesture. A smug grin graced you face as he rolled his eyes, but he proceeded with purifying the IV drip.

You were caught by surprise as it flickered bright yellow, before a ghost rose out of it and vanished into the heavens. ‘Huh..guess he’s not lying.’

John then picked up a note that had fallen to the ground and read it out loud, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Note to self--

Pills do not dissolve in IV drip well.

Too weak; patients waking up before process is complete

Sooner or later they will realize they are having the same hallucinations

Suggest concentrated, injectable version

“..you’re right. Gary is drugging innocent people. We should continue investigating. I sense many more evils within this place.”

“Sounds like you should’ve gone into this business instead, pastor.” You joked. “But yeah, let’s keep going. For Amy.”

“Yeah..for Amy.” He nodded, feeling a bit more determined than before. “We cannot fail her.”

It seems like you two were already forming a quick alliance.

[badboyzbingobrunch]

The Books Beside Clyde Logan’s Bed

Clyde Logan loves his books. That being said there is a small collection beside his bed of personal favourites as well as books he intends to read but hasn’t gotten around to.

“The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met. I went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.”

-Taylor Swift

First in the list is catch 22:

This book was recommended to Clyde by a friend from his military service. Though Clyde enjoys a good conspiracy and satirical piece, there are some parts of this book that are a little too intense for him. Because of this, the book sits lower in the stack with a bookmark hanging out of the side indicating that he hasn’t finished reading it yet.

Next on the list is My Dark Vanessa:

Clyde discovered this book when asking the woman in the bookstore, “ma’am, do you recommend anythin’ new?” Taking full advantage of the opportunity to educate a man on the difficult realities young girls and women face in society, she explained that this is a book for anyone who cares about the safety of young girls. Clyde, being his sweet self and the uncle of a young girl, couldn’t refuse. The amount of anger that this book brought him is palpable. The book sits towards the top of the stack because he recently finished it with red tabs on various pages indicating “red flags” that Clyde intends to look for so that he can protect Sadie and be aware if he has a daughter of his own.

Fahrenheit 451:

Clyde first learned about this book in his American literature class in school. Being a man who loves books, this small book easily became a favourite of his. It sits beside the stack due to its smaller size. Clyde doesn’t want it to get lost among the other books in his trailer so it will dutifully remain at his bedside.

The Key lime Crime:

This was a book of Mellie’s that casually caught Clyde’s eye when he was visiting her salon for a trim. It was casually sitting at her work station just beckoning for him to reach out and grab it. “Clyde honey, do you want to take a look at it?” His sister’s question caught him off guard. His cheeks tinted bright red as he examined the feminine cover. “What’s it about?”

Death By Pumpkin Spice:

After reading The Key Lime Crime, Clyde developed a proclivity for cozy mystery novels. He tries to interchange his cozy mystery books to match the seasons. He boldly reads the books within the comfort of his trailer, or by the lake when fishing with Jimmy. Jimmy once asked him if those kinds of books were for ladies, and Clyde simply looked up from the pages with his signature stoic expression. “Am I a lady?” Jimmy shrugged and shook his head. “Okay then, there’s yer answer.”

The Flags of our Fathers:

Due to his service in the military, Clyde wanted to read military themed books in hopes that it would help him better make sense of his own military experience. This was an effort that usually left him bored as he prefers more fast paced books to distract him from his busy life. He hasn’t read past the first page, but he intends to finish it one day. It currently sits just below Catch 22 at the bottom of the stack.

[firsttimewriter92]

Everything Black Part 1.

This is a Post Azkaban Sirius Black x fem! reader (Muggle) fic I came up with. This is the first time I´m writing something like this and posting it, so let me know if you have any suggestions as to how I can improve my writing. I am not a native speaker so please keep that in mind :) Please, please don´t copy my work. If you want to repost, please do. I would love it if you tagged me, though :)

Warnings: canon typical violance, No smut or angst so far (will eventually happen) This is a slow burn, folks. Maybe because I am obsessed with details.

Word count: 1.800

Summary: One strange night, a man known as Albus Dumbledore decides that it was you, who was the perfect fit to make a certain someones life more comfortable. Your own life nothing but a grey veil, you decide to humor the wizard and let youself be introduced to a world so far away from yours.

_____________________________________________________________

Shoulders hunched and hands in your pockets, you ran across the cobbled street and up the antient stairs to a higher level street. There, in the safety of an overlooking roof you stopped to catch your breath. The ice cold wind was going right through you and you tried to keep your toes warm by lightly jumping up and down. As you pulled your hat lower over your freezing ears you could see other people hurrying left and right to get home as quickly as possible. You imagined their lives for a second. Were they going home to their families? Would they enter a warm, welcoming flat or house with people waiting for them; smiles on their faces? Or do they hurry back to a cold, fairly furnished flat with florescent lighting and a leaking water tab? Because that´s where you were headed.

With a sigh and your forehead in wrinkles you hunched your shoulders again to brace yourself for the cold and darted off again. Only three more turns and you would wind up in the dingey little alley where a small flight of steps would take you down to your lovely home. You scoffed at the thought. Being alone for most of your life, well we do not count the 16 years you spent with your emotionally absent father, you just did not know why a home should be any less than four walls to return to just to sleep. That is why you spent all day either working or wandering about the city. It was quite nice in spring and summer. And given, even the low hanging fog on a quiet autumn day gave this antient town a form of mystery that many a writer has already been intrigued by. But in winter, the harsh, cold winds and the rain that could not decide if it wanted to be snow or not, was nothing short of unpleasant.

You rounded the last corner to your flat when you saw something so unnormal, your feet rooted themselves to the ground. There, in your alley, adorned with rubbish cans and an ever present smell of anything old, stood tree people, two facing the other one. All three had one arm extended and were pointing…chopsticks at each other. Nonsense, you scolded yourself. Those cannot be chopsticks. Why would tree grown people point chopsticks at each other? Rather menacingly in fact. How absurd. The wind was howling stronger now and before you could ask those tree figures what in the devils name they were up to, you heard a loud crack. The very second you heard it, something green shot out the tip of whatever it was one of them was holding. Maybe fireworks? Those were your last thoughts before there, in your little alley all hell broke loose.

Suddenly you found yourself in a state of panic. You ducked behind a rubbish can as more and more cracks and loud bangs filled the air. Wherever these lights would crash into, something was destroyed. Some of them even ricochet off the walls causing debris to fall onto the street. You couldn´t think. The heat of the lights that crashed close to your hiding spot lead you to duck even deeper into the shadows and rubble. Now you even heard someone scream something. Almost like an order but you couldn´t make it out. And as suddenly as the lights appeared, destroying walls and trash cans, there was silence. No more lights. Smoke and dust clung to the air as you let down your arms that you had wrapped over your head for protection. As if that would have helped any, you thought. Knowing only one thing, stay where you are, your breathing was hard and you could feel your throat burn from not being able to make a sound. Or so you thought.

You heard steps coming closer. Oh that´s just grand. The other guy probably dead and now, it´s my turn. Why has no one sent for the police yet? Someone must have heard the ruckus. True, it was already late at night but still!

You crouched in your spot, waiting for something to happen. Your heart pounding in your ears, waiting. You could feel a presence right next to you. Staring ahead with wide eyes you did not want to look up at the person who was probably about to end your life.

„Excuse me, Miss. Would you happen to have a Mint?“

___________________________________________________________

Your head snapped up when you heard the question. Your eyes were met by piercing blues behind halfmoon spectacles and a kind smile. Before you stood an old man with a long white beard and hair. He was tall, wearing the strangest clothes you had ever seen. A long dark maroon robe clung to his shoulders and you could make out the trousers of a needle stripe suit. Dumbfounded, you blinked up at the man who was kindly smiling at you.

„What? “, you asked, still staring. „I was wondering if you have a mint on you. You see, problem solving tends to give me a bad taste in my mouth. “The man smiled and put both hands on your upper arms to help you stand up. Patting the dust from your legs you eyed him from the side. „Sorry. I´m afraid I cannot help you with that" you said in a bit of a wiry tone. The man just smiled. „Ah, a shame. Well, at least the problem got solved “. You looked around. The three people that just a minute ago were trying to end each other were gone. You looked the alley up and down but there was no sign of them. Thank the heavens but it also made you incredibly uneasy. What did that old man do? They quite literally vanished.

Said man was currently watching your every move. Already an idea brewing in his mind. He knew he had only two options with you. One of them solely possible because he was, who he was.

„What did you do to them? And what where they doing with those…sticks anyway? They nearly blasted my head off! “You turned to the man and with every word your voice got a little higher. „Yes, well. It seems these tree gentlemen had a disagreement and- “„Yea, no shit“, you scoffed. The older man's eyes twinkled at that. „And were dueling to see who would win the argument“, he said as if giving this explanation was his daily business. You raised your eyebrows. „Dueling? Like they did 100 years ago? Only with, I don´t know…laser shooting sticks? What in all the gods' names is going on here?“, you asked exasperatedly. The man chuckled. He knew now which option he would take. „I can assure you it has nothing to do with lasers. Although that would be an easy answer for you, no, that was not it. These men where dueling with…wands.“ He waited a little to end his sentence for dramatic effect. You looked at him incredulously. „Wands?“ you repeated in a low voice. Before he could answer you started grinning. This soon ended in you almost doubling over holding your stomach. Surely this was a joke, or the shock finally caught up to you.

The older man lightly laughed along with you. „Miss, I am delighted to see that you find this information only half as shocking as I expected you to, but I am afraid we need to relocate sooner rather than later“ he chuckled. „W-what do you m-mean?“ you asked still gasping for air and wiping your eyes. „You are absolutely bonkers. I am not going anywhere with you. I am going home! Wands…next thing you are going to tell me is that they were wizards“. Still wheezing a bit, you turned around and walked off towards your flat. „Maybe you should start believing in the unbelievable a little bit more, Miss. I am guessing working in a Bar and walking around the city can become kind of dull.“ You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around. The feeling of having to prove yourself yet again made its painful way up your throat. „Sir, let me make one thing clear“, you sneered, taking a couple steps towards him. „I do not know how you know this about me nor do I particularly care. But I did not leave my old life behind for another old man to tell me how to live it! You want me to believe that magic is real? That I just witnessed it! Fine, fine. Prove it to me then!“ Why did you sound so desperate at the end? This was an utter joke.

The old man reached into his long robes and produced yet another wand. You looked at it skeptically. Without a word the old man flung the wand though the air. Your eyes widened when from the tip, silvery smoke erupted. First it was without shape, and it still could have been some sort of trick. But then in front of you, in the air made of silvery smoke, hovered a large bird flapping its wings slowly. It had very long tailfeathers. Slowly it rose above your heads and started to fly around you, gathering speed. You twisted and turned as to not lose sight of it. It was gorgeous. The next moment it was slowing down and disappearing into thin air. Your heart pounded, but not out of fear as it did a few minutes ago, but because of sheer excitement and childish joy. „Was that...? I only ever saw drawings. It´s a mythical creature!“ you whisper-yelled looking at the man. His eyes were fixed on you the whole time. „Mythical for you. Yes, that was a phoenix,“ he said calmly. „Believe me when I tell you, you were in grave danger when you entered this alley. And I cannot say if there are others about. So, I would like to see you save. And I cannot see you save here.“ He gestured to the rubble on the ground and the blast holes in the walls. You looked around as well. Was this your life? Did you want this to be everything there is? The answer was clear to you. The opportunity was standing right in front of you. So, you looked at the man with a stern expression, nodded your head once and took the last few steps until you were right in front of him. He smiled a brilliant smile and moved to stay beside you. „I am very relieved you see reason, Miss. Now, please hold onto my arm and close your eyes. The first time can be quite uncomfortable.“ You looked up to him with raised eyebrows and with a last, what in the gods' names am I doing here, you grabbed his arm. „I am _____ by the way“, you said quietly before closing your eyes. „It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss ____. “That was all you could hear before your stomach turned.

____________________________________________________________

Let me know if you liked it so far :) Should I post the second chapter? Many more beloved characters will be introduced in this one.

[itscaptaint]

Goddess of Music

Dean X Reader

“Wait, you know what we are hunting?” Sam questioned as Dean climbed out from behind the wheel of the Impala and into the motel. 

“Shadow wraith,” Dean chimed in, throwing his bag on the bed and immediately scrolling through his other other phone. He knew exactly who he was calling for help on this. 

“A shadow wraith? What makes it different from a regular wraith?” Sam said, finally settling in the room himself. 

“Instead of feeding on plain old brain, it goes after the soul too,” Dean spats. “Ah there it is!” He exclaims finally finding the number he was looking for.

“Dude. Who are you calling?” Sam asked more confused than he wanted to be. He already has no idea what a shadow wraith is and is even more confused as to why Dean does. 

“C’mon c’mon Y/N, pick up.” Dean breaths, throwing his head back hoping to god that Y/N doesn’t ignore him…again. It rings once, twice, three times. Dean is convinced she’s not picking up. “Son of a-”

That’s when he heard her voice. For the first time in years. Strangely, he missed that voice. It was magical…literally. “Y/N, thank god.” Sam sat staring at Dean only hearing one side of the conversation with the mystery girl. 

“Uh yeah I remember what you said,” Dean replied sheepishly. Sam rarely saw that side of his brother. “I need your help.” 

“Please? It’s another shadow wraith.” Now Sam was really curious as to who and when this previous shadow wraith encounter was with.

“Look Y/N…don’t make me beg,” Sam barely heard Dean say through gritted teeth. 

“Damn, Y/N, you’re worse than me,” Dean chuckled, almost blushing. Sam’s eyes widened. 

“See you in the morning.” Call ended.

Dean throws his phone down on the bed and immediately follows with his full body weight, sinking into the mattress. When he rolls over, Sam is still just staring. “Dude, what?”

“Dean, what the fuck is going on? Care to share?”

……….

Dean walked into the university library to do some research. He knew he could have gone to the city library, but the university one was bound to have at least one bookish hot girl, right? Him and John had no idea what they were up against. Something in this town was sucking people dry and leaving corpses in its mess. Normally Sam would have been helping him with this part but he’d been at Stanford for 3 years now and it’s been just Dean and John ever since. 

He knew they were dealing with some sort of wraith-like creature. The holes in the bodies were proof of that, but this wasn’t a normal wraith. Normal wraith’s didn’t completely suck bodies dry. About two hours into his research, he noticed that the stack of books on the table he had been occupying grew by 3 new titles. Had he been that tired that he didn’t remember getting up to get more books to stare at until his eyes bled? When he picked up the first new book, he realized it was old. Almost falling apart. He definitely would have remembered grabbing this. When he opened it up there was already a bookmark inside to a page talking about shadow wraiths. The second book was also tabbed to a page about the mystery creature. Turns out the description of this so-called “shadow wraith” was exactly what they were hunting. 

Shadow wraith’s would first start by sucking the soul clear out of it’s vic. Then once the soul was gone the person had no will or care left to fight back, making it easier to feast on the parts of the brain it thrived on. Biggest downside is that these things only travel in shadows, making catching one challenging. As he was reading up, John called saying he was taking another hunt a few counties away. Apparently it was important.  He asked Dean if he would be able to hold things down on his own. What was Dean going to tell his father? No? Yeah, not in a million years. He told his dad he had it under control and that he’d see him in a few days…hopefully. 

Just as Dean was getting ready to pack up, he realized he didn’t even notice the girl sitting at the table across from him just staring with her arms crossed. How did he not notice her? She was stunning. Her dark red, almost purple, hair fell long and straight around her shoulders and her eyes were a dark blue that seemed like they might shine the color of sapphire in the sunlight. When she noticed his mouth was agape, the corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk and she rose from her chair, walking towards Dean’s table. 

“You find what you were looking for?” Her voice hit Dean’s ears like music. It was corny thinking that way, but that’s what it was. Pure music to his ears. 

“Um, yeah I do believe I have,” Dean sat up straight, his back sore from hunching over the books all evening. If he had any chance with this girl he needed to kick it into high gear. He gave her his best smolder and leaned in slightly. “How about you? You find what you were looking for?” 

Normally that move would have worked, but the girl just raised an eyebrow. “That the best you got?” And that was the first time in a long time that Dean was speechless. 

“Well, since you seem to be rendered catatonic right now, let me fill you in on a few things. First, the library closed an hour ago. You are lucky I’m crafty and stole a key and convinced the librarian I would lock up. Second, you’re welcome for the presents,” she motioned to the mystery books Dean was perusing. “Oh, and you’re going to need my help with a shadow wraith. They are tricky little bitches.”

“You know what a shadow wraith is?” Dean questioned. He had so many other ones queued up but that was the first one that came out of his mouth. 

“Yeah dumbass. Why do you think I was helping you?” She stood grabbing the books to place on the cart to be put away the next morning. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

Turns out, meeting Y/N was the best thing that could have happened to Dean. She knew exactly how to take out the shadow wraith and the deed was done the next night. All the lore pointed to a shadow wraith being taken down by a “thorn of Persophene.” In their case, that meant the stem of a Rose that was blessed in a Greek church, wrapped around a sliver blade. Apparently Y/N had some Greek heritage and had been hearing about shadow wraith’s her entire life in stories that had been passed down. 

Being a short hunt meant he had a few extra days to spend in town before John returned. Maybe he could learn a little more about Y/N before he left. Turns out he learned a lot. Y/N might have been a bit more than he bargained for…

……….

“So this Y/N chick is bringing everything we need to finish this hunt?” Sam asked, finishing his beer. Turns out Dean’s story required a few drinks. Dean talked more about the girl than the hunt. 

“She’s meeting us here, so clean up those bottles before you go to sleep,” Dean scolded. Since when did Dean care how messy the room was? “Don’t want Y/N thinking we’re slobs.”

When Sam finally woke, Dean was already awake. He was sitting at the table, staring between his phone and the window. Sam could tell by the slight humidity in the room that Dean had already showered and gone to get coffee. One cup sat by Sam’s bed, the other 2 in front of Dean. Sam got up and dressed just in time to hear a car door slam shut and see Dean jump out of his seat faster than if he’d seen a clown. “Bro, seriously?” Sam teased. Dean didn’t need to say anything, he just glared and that shut Sam up. 

Dean whipped the door open just as Y/N was about to knock. She was hoping it would take him a few seconds to get to the door so she could prepare herself. Y/N hadn’t seen Dean in years and was a little nervous. He knew what she really was and that scared her. Dean had promised to keep her secret and she had trusted him. She had never told anyone else, just Dean.

Neither said anything, they both just stood and smiled for a few seconds until Sam cleared his throat, pulling both Dean and Y/N from their trance. “Hey, Y/N,” Dean smiled even bigger. He wanted to go in for a hug but didn’t want to push anything. 

Believe it or not, Y/N was much quicker on the wit than Dean. “Hey pretty boy, miss me?” She winked, sliding past him into the room. Y/N took one look at Sam and realized that both Winchester brothers had great genes. “You must be little brother, Sammy.”

Sam reached out his hand to shake hers and Y/N obliged. “The one and only. Nice to meet you, Y/N. Dean’s told me all about you.” At Sam’s words, Y/N shot Dean a glowering look that Sam didn’t notice. Dean just responded with a subtle shake of the head, eyes turning to the floor. Pfew, close one. “Dean tells me you have experience with shadow wraiths?”

“Yup,” Y/N signed plopping onto the bed Dean had occupied the night prior. “I saved your big brother’s ass from one a few years back. It was quite a week,” she blushed looking right over at Dean who had averted his gaze. 

Dean watched her throw herself into the bed he had dreamed about her in less than 12 hours ago. Those few days between the hunt ending and John coming to pick Dean up were a memorable few days…

……….

“Y/N!” Dean yelled as she was thrown across the room. Turns out there were three shadow wraiths and not just one. And they were strong. They had only had the one knife blessed and unfortunately it was clear across the room and out of reach from either one of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Y/N somehow throw one of the shadows clear across the room into a smooth vanish without any weapon. It was just long enough for the other monsters to be distracted so Dean could reach the knife. Once he got a hold of the weapon, the other two were toast. 

“You wanna tell me how you took that thing down without the knife,” Dean groaned, reaching his arm down to help Y/N up. She looked like shit. Black eye, busted up shoulder and cut on her cheek that was probably going to need stitched up. 

Y/N groaned, grabbing Dean’s hand. “Not really.” Once she was on her feet, she made her way out of the house and headed the opposite direction of the car Dean had hot wired earlier. 

“Where are you going? Car’s this way,” Dean shouted down the street, but Y/N just kept walking. After a few seconds, Dean realized she was ignoring him and was determined to get away. He knew something was up. Dean got to the car, threw it in drive and went off following Y/N. “Y/N, get in the car. We gotta talk.”

She didn’t even stop to look at him. “Not really in the mood for talking right now.” 

“At least let me take you back to campus. We don’t have to talk or anyth-”

“Just go!” Y/N shouted. Her angry outburst shocked Dean and royally confused him when the volume of the radio suddenly reached it’s max and started playing Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters. 

“Stupid car, what the fuck,” Dean says reaching for the volume nob, unable to change it.

“It’s not gonna help,” Y/N says, slowing her walk almost to a stop. Once she stops walking, the music stops playing. Dean just stares between the car radio and the mystery girl that saved the day. “If I get in that car, you gotta promise not to kill me.”

Dean didn’t want to make that promise. His life has been dedicated to killing weird things and she should be no exception. But there was something about her that made him second guess his instinct. “Get in”

“So you’re telling me that you’re a demon goddess?” Dean furrows his brow and takes another gulp of whisky straight from the bottle. 

“No, not a demon goddess,” Y/N tries to explain again. Turns out her dad was a demi-god, the son of the Greek god Apollo, and mom was a crossroads demon. “Just an everyday college girl with some pretty fucked up parents that controls music and sound with her uncontrollable emotion.” 

It took Dean a few beats to absorb everything she was saying. He wanted to be upset. He wanted to be able to take her out, but all he could do was say “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you have to say?” Y/N spun so fast to see Dean’s reaction that she made herself dizzy. Being thrown across the room will do a number on your brain being scrambled. She wobbled for a minute before Dean was up and guiding her to the bed. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Dean gently tilted Y/N’s chin up so he could see the cut on her face in better lighting. “I’ll fix this up and then we can swap stories about our crappy parents.” It was the first time Y/N felt safe. Dean is the only person that knows her secret and she thought that it was going to end her. Turns out, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing.

The next 3 days were full of cheeseburgers, dive bars and crappy television. The fourth day included all of those things, plus some karaoke. “These guys are terrible,” Y/N groaned as the frat boys waltzed down off the stage. Backstreet Boys might have made the rest of the girls in the crowd swoon, but not Y/N. She was only swooning over one boy here. Dean had already gotten up, gave his best go at some Bon Jovi, and has been fighting back the babes all night. He could have his pick of girls but he only had eyes for one girl in the bar. 

“Well, Miss Music Magician,” Dean tilted his head and leaned towards Y/N. His closeness made her bite her lip and slow her breathing. What was he doing? “You think you can do better?” He smirked, taunting her. He knew she had said or sang something to that shadow wraith to get it to disappear. Y/N had told him that not only did she have an affect on radio, but sometimes she could make ears bleed or the total opposite, causing them to fall into a dream-like trance. It was all controlled by emotion. Dean really wanted to hear how magical that voice could be. 

“You want me to sing?” Y/N chuckled, finishing off her beer. Dean’s expression changed to a more serious one and she knew he wasn’t kidding. “Ugh, okay, fine.” She sighs, finishing Dean’s beer and heading over to the stage.

“Looks like we’ve got a new performer!” The DJ announces. The drunk college girls giggle and applaud while the guys all perked up from what they were all previously talking about. That made Dean extra perky. He wasn’t going to let any of these guys try anything with her. It didn’t take Y/N long to decide on a song and when the music started, Dean knew he was done for. 

The first few bars of I Love Rock ‘N; Roll started and if she didn’t have the bar’s attention before, she definitely did now. The second she opened her mouth and the sound came out, it was like heaven on earth. Her voice was truly magical. Dean was so drawn in he didn’t even remember if he was remembering to breathe. He glanced around the bar and every single person, bouncers and bartenders included were singing along and had zero cares in the world. Dean was still so mesmerized that he didn’t realize she was done until she was back at the table. 

“That was…Amazing,” Dean managed to breathe out. Turns out he wasn’t the only one in awe. One of the Backstreet wannabes from earlier was striding over and making a beeline right for Y/N. Dean rolls his eyes and that grabs Y/N’s attention. When she realized what was going to happen, she thought on her feet. She wanted nothing to do with this dude. She knew Dean had already been slightly entranced by her singing so she knew he would do whatever she said in this moment. 

“Kiss me,” Y/N whispered, almost singing into Dean’s ear. Dean didn’t miss a beat. His lips were instantly on hers. Y/N wanted to believe that he only kissed her because she told him to, but it was more passionate than that. She was immediately kissing him back, hands winding behind his neck and into his hair. Dean’s hand snakes behind the small of her back and pulls her closer than he thought they would ever be. Deep down he knew she only told him that to deter the frat boy, but he could have stopped by now, but he didn’t want to. Y/N was the one that pulled away first. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. Dean didn’t want her to be sorry. He had been wanting to do that since he stitched up that cut on her face the other night. “Is he gone?” She looked up and noticed that the boy had walked away, changing his mind about approaching. 

“I think so,” Dean whispered, but he didn’t want to stop kissing her. He was feeling bolder now that he’d already had a taste of Y/N. “But just to make sure…” Dean leaned back in towards Y/N. The kiss was softer this time. Lighter and less frantic, but still amazing. When they both pull away, neither one can help but smile. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Y/N winked. And off they went. 

……….

Turns out Y/N still hadn’t figured out how to control her emotions enough to completely get a handle on her music control. She had accidentally turned on the radio on the way to the hunt. Luckily Dean was quick enough to change the subject so Y/N had a moment to get some control and give him some time to pretend like he was changing the station. The only control Y/N had figured out was how to not let her emotions betray her song “choices.” If that were still a problem, this hunt with Dean would not go as smoothly as she had planned. 

“So, Y/N,” Sam asked. He wanted to know more about Dean’s mystery girl. “You a hunter?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, leaning up towards the front seat to be closer to the boys. “Just was in the wrong place at the wrong time when Dean needed me.” The way she said wrong made Dean shudder a little bit. It was the right place and most definitely the right time. “I’m actually an elementary school music teacher.” 

“Cool,” Sam nodded. How on earth did Dean manage to keep this girl tucked away all these years. If Dean’s massive crush on her wasn’t as obvious, Sam contemplated taking a swing. 

Y/N and Sam talked most of the way there, getting to know each other and talking about their college experiences. Dean just sat and listened. He wondered if Sam was as affected by her voice as he was. 

When they finally arrived, Dean held back to have a quick chat with Y/N. “You…armed?” He asked.

“Armed? Dean, if this shit goes sideways like last time, I got this under control. I’d rather not expose myself, kind of trying to keep that a secret, but if I need to save your brother’s hot ass I will.” 

She winked at Dean as she tried catching up with Sam. Dean didn’t want to admit it, but her comment, though he knew it was a joke, made him a little jealous. He wanted her to talk about him that way. After all of this was over, he had to talk to her. 

As Y/N predicted, shit went sideways. Sam was knocked out cold so he wasn’t even conscious for Y/N’s heroic efforts. It was harder this time though. Her judgment was slightly clouded and her emotions were frantic. Last time she and Dean were in this situation, she didn’t have any feelings for him. Now, all of her feelings were for him. She felt scared for his life, scared for hers. But she was also pissed at him with how things ended the last time. Y/N wasn’t sure which emotion to tap into, so she tapped into all of them. She was able to take down three wraiths on her own this time and Dean managed to take down the one that had knocked Sam out. 

Even though she was successful, she was tired and emotionally wrecked. Sam had regained consciousness and they got him into the backseat before he passed out again. Y/N climbed into the seat and noticed Dean staring. “You were a lifesaver. Again.” he smiled, letting the car come to life. 

“You’re just lucky I forgive you for how things…ended,” she sighed, closing her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t fall asleep in the car, but her eyes needed a break. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.”

“I know,” she opened her eyes, turned her head to meet his gaze. “Why else would I be here?”

……….

Y/N and Dean barely make it back to his motel room before tearing each other’s clothes off. The whole car ride there from the bar was filled with classic rock and sexual tension. Y/N was doing her best to try and control the car’s radio, but everything that tuned in was somehow about sex. She knew what was going to happen. Hell, she was dying for this to happen, but now her power was making things awkward.

“You trying to tell me something, DJ?” Dean smirked, slowly rubbing his hand up and down her thigh.

“Dean,” Y/N breathed, looking down, trying to avoid his gaze. That’s when Dean’s hand found hers and he intertwined their fingers. They rode like that the rest of the way back. As soon as the car was in park, Dean was out of the car. He had headed around to the passenger side to get Y/N’s door, but she was already out and crashing her mouth to his. 

It was a desperate kiss. Y/N had never wanted anyone this bad and could tell Dean felt the same. He fumbled for the key in his pocket without separating from Y/N. Once they are in the room they are a mess of flying clothes and tangled bed sheets. 

It was a night neither one of them wanted to forget. Y/N and Dean were sound asleep and  neither one of them heard the rumble of a car outside or the sound of keys at the door. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing while I’ve been working,” the deep voice stirred Y/N from a deep sleep. It wasn’t Dean’s voice, but just as gruff. 

“Dad, it’s not what you think,” she heard Dean say. So this was Dean’s dad. Y/N could have gotten out of bed and introduced herself, but she was still naked and decided faking sleep was the better option. 

“It looks like you’ve found yourself a piece of ass to keep your bed warm while I was out saving lives,” Dean’s dad basically growled. A piece of ass? Damn, he was intense…and rude. “Get your shit together and let’s go.”

“Dad, let me at least say goodbye-”

“Why bother, you’ll just sleep your way through the next town, forget about this one anyways,” he mumbles slamming the door behind him, making Y/N jump. So much for pretending to be asleep because Dean definitely saw her reaction to that bang. 

Y/N heard Dean let out a heavy sigh. “How much did you hear?”

She wished she hadn’t heard any of it, but “All of it,” she responded, sitting up in bed with the sheet still wrapped around her.

“Look, Y/N,” Dean started, but he didn’t know how to finish. John was back and he was pissed. All Dean wanted to do was hold Y/N again and stay that way for as long as possible. 

“Dean, just go. He sounded pissed,” Y/N said, reaching for her clothes and dressing as quickly as she could just in case John came barging back in. She knew deep down this was going nowhere and she was starting to hate herself for falling so hard. Y/N grabbed her purse and was almost at the door when Dean pulled her back into the tightest hug she’d ever been enveloped in. 

“I don’t want to,” Dean whispered into her hair. He was holding on so tight, almost as if he thought she was going to slip away. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Y/N pulled away just enough to look and see wet eyes. She hadn’t known him long, but she knew that this was just as hard for him as it was for her. “Just promise me you’ll keep my little secret. Because if I ever find out that you told someone, I will destroy you,” she smirked, giving Dean a little wink as she kissed his cheek.

As soon as Y/N walked out the door, Dean knew that this would be the one that got away. 

……….

Y/N helped Dean get Sam back to their room before heading to her own. “It was good seeing you again Dean,” she smiled back at the green eyed man from her past that she secretly wanted in her future. “But next time you want to see me, it doesn;t have to be a life or death situation,” she winked, quickly closing the door behind her not giving Dean a chance to say anything. 

She leaned against the door and let out a sigh she had been holding in all night. The radio on the nightstand turned on and started to play, volume low, but it was loud enough to drown out Y/N’s thoughts of Dean. The only thing it didn’t drown out was the sound of knocking on the door. 

Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he knew he wasn’t going to leave on a crappy note again. He needed her, so he knocked.

“Life or death?” Y/N asked, answering the door.

“Neither,” Dean breathed, colliding his lips to hers. 

It was more passionate than the time Y/N had told Dean to kiss her in that bar. It was desperate. It was a passion that had been locked away for too long and needed release. Y/N’s hands were wound up in Dean’s hair and he was running his hands down her sides, over her hips and onto her thighs. He swiftly lifts her, molding her to his body so he can make it to the bed. Once he had her on her back, she immediately rolled him over and was straddling his lap. Y/N pulled away and just looked down into Dean’s eyes, smiling.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

She didn’t need to answer. The radio immediately changed and started playing that song that made him lose it all those years ago. The voice of Joan Jett played through the speakers and he knew what she was thinking.