#the last few months have gone by so fast but some nights the void of you in my life feels more... violently empty than normal

[bodiesweaving]

genuinely i think the craziest and most fucked up pathetic part of this is that i just miss you so much still like i miss you so fucking much in the deepest parts of my soul but i know you never missed me and honestly probably never even cared about me so what am i doing

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | one

Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? April 29th 2022 (a/n yes I know some of these dates don’t actually add up, it’s just for story purposes!) Elliots POV Nursing really wasn’t for the faint of heart, which makes me wonder why I do it. Part of me knows it’s cause I’m a pathological people pleaser and like all the pats on the back I get. On the other hand I did land myself a great position in the NICU and helping babies get healthy and go home was such a rewarding feeling. I worked twelve hour night shifts but they went by pretty fast. It was about 6:45am and I was wrapping up some charting as my phone buzzed beside me. It was my best friend Danielle. “Hey boo! Don’t forget we got tickets for Bad Omens tonight!”

Shit, I totally forgot. I sighed deeply, catching stares from some of the parents visiting their babies. I hated texting Tyler about anything because he acted like everything was fine but sadly, I had to play the part too.   “Hey I totally spaced and forgot I’m going to a concert with Danielle tonight. My dad is going come over to help with Liam’s dinner and bedtime until you get home.” “Okay :) See you when you get home!” I rolled my eyes so hard they almost got stuck. My shift was over so I handed off report to the nurses coming on shift and headed towards my car. I lifted my mask off as the fresh air hit my face, waking me up a little bit. I took my phone out of my scrub pocket and texted Danielle back. “I can’t wait…I need a girls night.” “Come to the venue at 5 so we can have some drinks and sneak front row.” Danielle worked at the venue where Bad Omens would be playing, which worked in our favour. She always got us free tickets to every event and snuck us in early to get a good spot.  I discovered Bad Omens around the same time I met Tyler. I heard Careful What You Wish For on the radio and I was hooked. During the pandemic, I found myself watching all of Noah’s twitch streams every single day. It was his way of staying connected to the fans and to fill the void of uncertainty of this virus. Something about his voice was so soothing, seriously, he could do audiobooks or podcasts if this singing thing doesn’t work out. When I got home, Tyler was on his phone typing away, probably to whatever her name was. Marissa? Miranda? I don’t know or fucking care enough to remember. He got up from the table and tried to kiss me but I turned my head and lied about having a cold sore forming. He went to make me coffee and I suddenly felt nauseous. Every time he tried to do something nice for me my blood would boil. He wasn’t doing this because he loved me, he did it to keep his image. I took the coffee from him and turned away from his sad attempt to kiss me again. “You never want any affection from me anymore, what is going on?” Oh if only you knew. “Tyler, I spend all fucking night with babies on me and being overstimulated by people. I just want an hour where I’m not touched or talked to.” “Right.” “Sorry.” I lied, rolling my eyes. I started to walk towards the stairs so I could go up and shower but he stopped me dead in my tracks. “You know tonight will be the third time you’ve gone out with your friends this month.” He shot me at me. That was the one thing I fucking loathed about him. He was really, really good at being a dick about absolutely anything. I never bothered replying to him, I just headed to my master bathroom and turned on the shower. The water felt so good as I washed off last nights shift, which was a mixture of formula and spit up. After my shower I took my coffee into my bedroom and settled on a rerun of Friends while I waited for Liam to wake up. I heard Tyler leave and I felt like I could breathe properly. 

A few hours later there was a knock on the door. Liam and I were having a nap on the couch after we had lunch. It started to rain earlier so it ruined our plans to go to the park, instead we settled on Disney movies and snuggles. His nap time was the only time I got to sleep during the day unfortunately unless he was at daycare. I slipped out of his grip to go answer the door, it was my Dad. He greeted me with a hug and we walked into the kitchen. I threw on some coffee for us as a yawn escaped my mouth. “Thanks again for staying here until Tyler gets home.” “Anything for you pumpkin.” He replies as he grabs the creamer out of the fridge for us. “Is everything okay? You seem a little down lately.” “Uh…yeah there is something.” I said before taking a deep breath. “Tyler’s been having an affair. I haven’t told him I know, I’ve been getting everything in order with my lawyer before I serve him the papers.” “When did you find out?” “A month ago.” I laughed. I don’t know why I was laughing, but somedays this situation felt comical to me. “I’ve only told Danielle because her mom is a lawyer.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was afraid you would’ve shown up here with a shot gun.” I chuckled before taking a sip of my coffee. He half smiled but I could tell he was really upset. “Dad I’m fine. I’m going to figure this out.” “I know. Just talk to me sooner next time okay? Now that your mom is gone you and Liam are all I have.” “I miss her so much.” I said as I felt that all too familiar lump in my throat anytime I thought about my mom. We sadly lost her to Covid after she came home from a girls trip in Mexico, right around the time the pandemic hit so we didn’t know the severity of it. It hit her so fast, causing her to go into cardiac arrest and passing hours later. I had days where guilt hit me hard since she was admitted to the hospital I worked at. I wasn’t allowed to care for her cause looking after family is considered a conflict of interest. It’s been so difficult without her, but it has made my bond with my Dad a lot stronger. We talked and finished our coffees before Liam ran into the kitchen after his nap. He was only fifteen months old and could already outrun us all. I picked him up and showered him with kisses before I headed upstairs to get ready for tonight. I opened a raspberry White Claw as I put Taylor Swift’s Reputation album on shuffle, it was my favourite album by her and it was my go to while I got ready. I settled on a pair of faux leather leggings, a low-cut bodysuit to show off my sternum tattoo, and black Doc Martens. I was still learning to love my postpartum body but I had to admit, the new hourglass shape I had was starting to grow on me. 

My phone buzzed that my Uber was outside and it caused my heart to flutter. Something about the idea of finally seeing these boys in real life was making me nervous, and I had no idea why. I never put them on a pedestal or thought they were gods but it’s gonna be surreal after only seeing them behind a screen. I said goodbye to my dad and Liam before heading out the door. I was so happy it was almost May, the weather was mild enough that I didn’t need a jacket anymore. “There she is!” I smiled as I walked up to Danielle who was with our other two friends, Amy and Taylor. They complimented my look and it gave me the confidence boost I desperately needed. Danielle walked up to the bar when we got in and got us a round of double gin and tonics which was just what I needed. My nerves were getting the best of me and I really needed to loosen up a little bit. After a few more drinks we headed to the barricade and waited for the concert to start. 

“So El, are you excited to see Noah?” I furrowed my brow and looked at Taylor, “Uhh…I’m excited to see the whole band.” “Obviously, but you’re obsessed with Noah. You’ve been practically drooling over him since he was streaming.” “I have not.” At this point I was blushing so hard and I couldn’t blame it on the drinks we had. I mean, she wasn’t wrong. His long hair would make me fold every time I saw him and don’t get me started on the buns he used to do where strands of his hair would perfectly fall around his face…or when he used claw clips or… Make them Suffer came onto the stage and interrupted my thoughts that were going south. The girls and I thrashed around to their setlist and right after that A Thousand Below came on followed by Dayseeker. I cried a little bit during Without me then went back to dancing and even caught a guitar pick. I was feeling better than I have in months, I felt so carefree, happy and not thinking about what my home life was like. I wish I could feel like this every night.

The lights went dark and I froze. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as Folio walked towards his drum set and started to play to the beat of Concrete Jungle. I had tried my best to stay off TikTok to avoid spoilers but I knew Noah came out next before the rest of the band. Before I could process what was going on, he was right in front of me. He stood there all dressed in black, his leathered hand wrapped about the mic stand and he started to sing. Holy fuck. I couldn’t take my eyes off him throughout the entire show. He was captivating as he had the crowd in the palm of his hands. His voice sounded better than I could’ve imagined, he had the voice of an angel and the screams of a demon. I don’t know if I was being delusional, but I’m sure we made eye contact a few times. He sat down at the edge of the stage and serenaded the crowd with who are you? and he was right in front of us. He was so close I could see clusters of freckles on his shoulders peeking through his tattoos. When our eyes connected again I waved at him to embarrass him and it totally worked cause he fumbled his next line. He got up and walked towards the other side of the stage, not before turning back around to look at me again…he was completely flustered. “What was that?” Danielle screamed at me as the girls just stood there in disbelief. I just shrugged at them before putting my attention back on the band. The show came to an end, not before Noah and I stole more glances at each other. I tried to gain my composure, but I couldn’t. I cannot believe I just flirted with Noah Sebastian. Also the show? Fucking best concert I’ve ever been to, so good that my throat was hoarse and I’m pretty sure my toes were bleeding. “Hey guys before we go, I just need to go to my office to grab my purse. I can’t stress this enough though, no looking for the band okay?” As much as I wanted to find Noah, we nodded our heads in agreement before heading back there. I was not about to get my best friend fired from her dream job cause I wanted to flirt with some boy in a band. I really needed to pee though after holding it for almost three hours so I went on a mission to find a bathroom. I circled for a few minutes before finding a women’s bathroom. As I walked in the toilet flushed and the stall door opened. It was Noah. He put his hands up in protest as he flushed pink, “I promise I’m not a woman.” I forced an awkward laugh as I looked him up and down. He already looked like he showered and changed. The scent of his cologne lingered over to me and I could feel my face burning. He walked over to the sink to wash his hands so I took the opportunity to admire his tall stature. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a grey Chief hoodie and white Nikes. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tattoos were exposed. My face was getting hotter the longer I watched him…I felt like a victorian man seeing a women’s ankles for the first time.

Also…Chief? One of my favourite bands? What are doing to me Noah? “Nice hoodie.” Noah smiled at the ground before looking back up to me. His eyes were so dark you could hardly see his pupils. They were the kind of eyes you could get lost in…and I definitely was. “Sorry I’ll give you some privacy.” He said gesturing towards the bathroom stall. I smiled at him as he walked past me towards the door. Noah stopped as he opened the door to turn back to me, “oh by the way, thanks for making me fuck up tonight.” “I did no such thing!” I audibly gasped. Noah shut the door and walked back over to me, “you definitely did.” “I was testing a theory that you were eye fucking me through the whole show.” I said as I crossed my arms, trying to make myself look taller but I was failing miserably. “Well, how was my eye fucking?” He replied with a deeper tone to his voice. He crossed his arms as well and got closer to me, close enough that he towered over my 5 foot frame with no problem. I was completely lost for words on account that my bladder was about to burst. “I have to pee.” “Ok fine, I’ll go.” He said, looking down at me as he grinned like a devil, “this isn’t over.”

[thuviel]

I'm 7 months on T!

This is another month that went by so fast I barely had time to register it xD I'm still continuing on half a dose and this is what happened this month:

Shark week still around, but this time it was a few days late for the first time since staring T, maybe it's a sign? o.o

Voice is trying to stabilise after the bigger drop last month, it has gone a tiny bit lower again but it isn't consistent. Talking a lot strains my voice now so I'm doing voice therapy to try to find the right way to talk with my changing voice

More pimples showing up, luckily not acne level it's still very managable for me and not unlike my first puberty

Facial hair growing faster, I'm getting close to having to shave every day now

Still feeling a bit stronger, I could just drop down and do 10 knee pushups without any warm up and it was easy for me despite not having done any excersise for weeks (10 used to be difficult for me in my current weakened state)

I think maybe there's been some fat redistribution? It feels like my stomach is rounder now and all my pants are suddenly loose at my waist so the fat around my hips and butt has maybe moved around, but it's very hard to tell so it's just a theory

Face continues to look more masc! This month when looking in the mirror is the first time I really feel like I might start looking more like a Dude compared to my more androgynous vibe before

My hair has started to feel a bit thinner especially in the front, I'm also shedding quite a bit. Idk if it's just hairline changing or if I'm actually thinning already, or maybe I'm just imagining a big difference that isn't there

I thiiink body odour may have changed a bit again, I feel like I'm noticing it more this month similar to how I noticed it a lot when it first changed in the early days, I probably also sweat a bit more than before

Hunger is going bananas again this month holy shit, defintiely think I'm in a new growing/changing state bc it's similar to the first couple months, keep waking up in the night with a void in my stomach

Increased libido as well, I think maybe there's been a bit of bottom growth too

[ashstfu]

Hello Ash,

It has been long since I wrote to you. Much time has passed and much changes wrought. I thought of you often, yet some force stopped me from writing to you. I am not saddened by the fact that i didn't, but am overjoyed that i get to do it now. I suppose in a way that is how one must approach life. But i am not here to speak to you of principles and proverbs. I will leave that to wise old men, for I am none of those.

I hope that time has been kind to you, my beloved. Though i doubt that to be true, for it seems to be fair to no one. Perhaps there is comfort in that, that no man is free from it's grasp, as restricting and tender as its touch is during our life. Again, it seems i have wandered into territories befit for those who wish to advise. Forgive me.

Two years we spent under the tyranny of that which could not be seen by our eye. And the changes it brought will be remembered for ages to come. It seems that it is indeed true that even something small can bring about magnificent changes. I never believed that as a child. Now it seems that that is everywhere. It is times like this that one enjoys being proved wrong, wouldn't you agree?

I wish there was more that I could say, Ash. But alas, there is much yet that is waiting for me. I will say this to you, that all your twilights and dawns that you spent thinking you were wasting your tears ... they will form a river with which to carry you across this season that seems so desolate and agonising. If there was an instant i could spare to touch your cheek and rid you of all the coldness that holds your heart sometimes, i would. But we are separated it seems, by distance, just as we are by the universe's will. It is alright, though, there must be a reason why i was chosen to write to you. If it brings you nothing but a minute spent thinking that you matter to someone, then that is a minute well spent.

I bid you farewell for now, my lady.

- LXx

OMG HI HI HI in my imagination, i am running up to you and kissing you on the lips (movie style). to say i missed you would be an understatement. i thought about you a lot. 2022 has been so bad to me. so so bad. and now in a blink of an eye, it will be gone. i have felt myself drifting, these past few months. drifting out of space and time. each day i wonder where the year has gone. 2 months of 2022 left. It has come upon me too fast, too passionate, too heavy for me to bear. i have been sleeping a lot lately, and i don’t think it is teaching me how to carry the weight of the reality very well. sleep is my solution for everything these days.

i was angry at you first, for i thought you left without saying a proper goodbye. i missed you. i wanted to talk to you. reach out. just wanted some place to be honest: a seat near you, your hand in mine holding me steady, a designated corner in your drawer for me, a place to talk. i wanted to yell out into the void. i wanted to give an essence of myself to you because i’m too scared to give it all. a lot has changed since the last time you wrote to me. i’ve done some things, i live alone now, i like living alone but this quote by bukowski keeps coming back to me, "and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?" sigh i made new friends, reconnected with old ones, broke my favorite mug, ruined my favorite skirt, made a plethora of mistakes that made me circle back and recontexualize my whole sense of self. i just want to recenter myself so i can return to even an approximation of my old self, my old life.

lately, i’ve been reading anything i can get my hands on. i want you to know about my favorite book. it’s the book of delights by ross gay. I think you should read it because it is spectacular and perfect and every synonym for delightful you could possibly imagine. 

this wasn’t a letter, this was you and i in whatever place we found open on this night, and i just talked (what i wanted to say, not what others wanted to hear) for the first time in weeks. i hope to hear from you soon. hopefully.

[sensei-venus]

Rise Of The Viper- (2/?)

(Unedited) (Reader Insert, Oc’s Aunt Lizz & Aunt Katie, Mentions of Death, Mention Car Accidents, Oc’s off-camera deaths.) (I'm too lazy to add a banner for these fics so far, maybe next chapter.😋) (#hate that these chapters are 3,000 words long but it looks way shorter in this format.)

The following week was a complete nightmare for the Token women.

After the short trip to the hospital to retrieve Aunt Katie's personal effects, things just got harder. Once again they where searching for a cheap hotel room. With some luck they found a sketchy half-run-down motel to stay at for a few days. Aunt Lizz hoped that they could set up a nice funeral and worry about the legal matters later.

It wasn't like Aunt Lizz wanted to rush things by any means. It was just all the stress getting to her all at once that made her get a bit fidgety. Her fingers picked at the dry lent still left on the motel blankets. There was a small shake in her hands. Her mind was still racing even after two days. With the death of Katie, she was the only one left. All of her siblings her gone now leaving her alone. Reader's mother, Lizz, and Katie's other sister had died a few years back from cancer.

Something none of them even thought about before it happened. It developed so fast over a matter of months until her ultimate death

That left Reader under her care, Katie was too scared of raising a child and babied her career more anyway. The occasional call or text had been enough for Lizz. She had loved her sister so much but also respected her wishes to stay neutral in the situation.

Katie had never been able to get over the breath of their beloved little sister.

But now Lizz didn't know if she would ever be able to get over Katie's.

The next few days were spent in and out of lawyers' offices and a local funeral home. Arranging the funeral and memorial service for the women. Lizz and Reader spent hours going through the paperwork and calling people. Sitting down and talking with the funeral director and Katie's lawyer. Everything had to be written down to a T for things to go smoothly. Once all the kinks were worked out things started to go more quickly, and the ball started to move.

The following day the paper obituary was made and made public. A small script was published describing her life.

"Katie Lee Token, 42, passed away on Friday xx/x/20xx in a car accident. Doctors say she suffered from a fatal head injury on the scene, where she was pronounced dead. Katie was a local real estate mogul who had been working in the area for almost twenty years. She was described as headstrong, prideful and kind women by her family and friends. She is survived by her last living sister Lizz and her niece Reader. Her funeral will be held next Saturday where she will be laid to rest at Willow Creek Cemetery."

The obituary itself was very short and sweet something that Katie would be happy about. She was never one for over-the-top dramatics, to say the least.

Aunt Lizz never talked about Aunt Katie that much. She admitted to loving her sister but nothing more, she never talked about her much. The reader knows they talked on the phone sometimes. It was always when she was out of the room but Reader could hear her talking all the phone. It was always short conversations, talking about how they were doing, and how life was going. They were always brief conversations that left the room feeling empty and almost void. Reader never pushed to question why their relationship seemed so strained. She always heard that their relationship was strong back when they were kids but clearly, something happened to make them no longer able to have a full conversation together.

Reader watched as Aunt Lizz finished signing some paperwork on the motel bed before throwing it on the night stand. A hand covered her face as she let out a loud sigh and rolled over to face the wall.

The next few days were going to be hell and she just knew it.

————————————————————

The funeral was held in the late afternoon that following Saturday.

The heat of the day was slowly starting to fizzle out. It still left the air humid and damp and Reader could feel the sweat on her neck. She lightly dabbed at her forehead in a small attempt to keep the droplets at bay. They threatened to roll down her hairline at any minute. Her eyes glanced up at the dark oak casket. It sat atop the perfectly dug hole, waiting to be lowered into the ground. Behind it was a large photo of Aunt Katie from one of her real estate headshots. She stood tall and proud in the photo with her bright white teeth. Her smile was big but not so pretentious that it gave off a bad look.

It screams "I know that I do a good job".

The words of the pastor were all a blur to Reader as she just stared at the picture. Nothing of what he said mattered to her anyway. She couldn't tell if what he was saying about her aunt was true or not. She had barely known the woman in her final days. They had only met once after her parents died and then never again showed up and that was years ago. Any memories they might have had were long since erased from her mind. Some would say that's sad but Reader couldn't give a real opinion on it.

Readers' eyes followed the casket as it was lowered into the ground slowly. A creaking sound and a loud thud was heard as it hit the earth. Aunt Lizz sniffled a little as she walked over and tossed a flower into the open grave. Reader stood next to her and watched it drop into the closed casket. She threw her own flower down and watched it join the other one. One last year dripped down her soft cheek before they silently walked away. Feet crunched over the grass as they walked back to their tiny car.

The drive back to the funeral home was silent.

The wake was nice once they settled into the funeral home lobby. A little more than a dozen or so people showed up to pay their respects and say their goodbyes. They signed the funeral book before giving some kind words to Lizz and Reader. Most of them seemed shocked to see the two. Some of the people who showed up explained that Katie never talked about her family much. Even the people who claimed to be her close friends said they didn't know she had family left. It wasn't a huge shock but it did hurt a bit.

It was almost like she never talked about any of her family at all to these people.

It was almost as if once she moved to California she cut all ties including her family away.

She completely started her life over for no real reason.

"You know she did love you Reader in her own weird way. I just think she didn't know how to say it." Lizz said quietly as they sat on one of the couches in the lobby. Her eyes never drew away from the small crowd of people that showed up. Her eyes almost seemed to be looking though all of them. Never try to focus on one face. Their shoulders bummed together a little. Reader looked down at her hands.

"I guess... I didn't really know her. Whenever I think about her it's a blank. I don't even remember talking to her."

"I can imagine, you were what, seven or eight the last time you saw her?"

"Mom's funeral I believe was the last time we talked. So yeah, around eight I think."

There was a long pause that was covered by the sound of mumbling conversations. Most of the people who had come seemed to know one another to a certain extent. Some of them had introduced themselves as friends from her real estate work, most of them agents like she was. They had worked with her or knew about her from the local home communities.

"You would have liked her. You remind me of her just a little bit you know." a small smile spread over her lips. But the sadness in her eyes didn't flatten at the statement.

Before Reader could think about asking her what she meant there was a loud cough on the other side of the room. Everyone started to quiet down as a man in a nicely tailored suit stepped into the room. He was tall and older, hair starting to gray and slicked down. His bright gray suit clashed with the dreary colors of the lobby. Making him stick out like a sour thumb in the room of dark grays and blacks.

"If everyone would please- I am Mr.Wilton the lawyer of the late Katie Token. If anyone who was sent a formal latter to attend Katie's will reading could please follow me, I would like to start the reading of her will." his voice was deep, and he motioned to a room behind him just off the side of the lobby.

Lizzy slowly stood up while also taking Reader's hand in hers. Pulling her towards the room gently. Reader notices that only two other people followed them into the room. A young woman with long loosely curled blond hair, she was short and fit. She had on a simple modest gray dress with a small black coat. Her makeup was done in a more basic natural style as well, not too dark or too bright for the occasion. The other person was a man who was only slightly older. He was dressed in a basic black suit and tie. Short black hair that was styled to the side. His jaw was tightly set as he followed them all in.

The door to the room closed with a light snap behind them. Looking around she found they were all in a small office, a few random bookshelves against the back wall with a desk in front of it. A few chairs were placed around said desk. They all quickly filed into the seats, Reader sitting next to her aunt while the other two sat on their opposite sides. Mr.Wilton walked around the desk and sat in a plush office chair, bringing up a suitcase from under the desk it opened it with a flick of the wrist. He pulled out a large folder that was filled to the brim with papers. Setting it down he flipped through a few of them until he found the one he was looking for.

"We are here to discuss and read my late client's last will and testimony. As you may have guessed all four of you were written into her will in some way and I am here to distribute and explain everything that is written into her will." everyone nodded. With a small cough, he started to read the paper in his hands out loud.

"I, the will of Katie Ann Token was written and notarized on xx /xx/20xx. This will was written to help divide my assets, estate and all of my belonging. My good friend and Lawyer Thomas T. Wilton is authorized to read this office will at the time of my death immediately after my funeral. The following is all of my instructions on how my earthly things should be distributed, in my own words."

There was a short pause.

"To my closet colleague, Maggie Porter, though we may have had our rough patches I still admire your work ethic. You are a strong woman and it was a privilege to go neck and neck with you in the housing market, I wish you look in your career journey. With that I leave you all of my old and new files. All of my open housing files will be left to you along with all of my contacts. I would hope this would help you in the long road." Maggie gave a small nod, a genuine smile plaster on her lips. A folder was passed to her.

"To Mason Franklin, my best friend and bar buddy, we spent many nights at the bar together. I could never give you anything that matches the time we spent together, your words and wisdom to rich for anything I could ever offer. I leave to you the old Lincoln I always talked about, it's in a storage locker at the edge of the city. I also instructed Mr.Wilton to pay off your bar tab. I would hope that the next time you go, you will order a drink for me." Mr.Wilton slid over two pairs of keys, one to a storage locker and a set of old car keys. He slowly took them to the desk, his face void of emotion. He shoved them into his pocket without a second thought and sat quietly.

"The next part of this will concern only my remaining living family, Lizz M. Token and Reader Token. Everyone else is free to leave." Wilton peaked over the paper to look at the two strangers. Looking at one another the two quickly got up and left the room.

With only the three of them remaining in the room Mr.Wilton went on reading.

"To my only living sister Katie, I leave you one of my savings accounts, the number being 2035, in this account there will be a large unspecified balance. It should be greater than $300,000 at the time of this will being written. I also leave to you a box of letters and documents pertaining to our childhood. I have too many words and too little time in this will to relay my feelings to you. Please read the letters in said box that Wilton will gift you. Known that I have and always will love my big sister." tears filled Lizz's eyes.

"Last but not least to my only niece Reader, I leave all of my remaining savings accounts and checking account. I leave all of my possessions too you as well. I also gift you my home in The Hills and my lake house located on the far south side of town."

Lizz and Reader's jaws dropped at his words.

"There is only one condition. You may only keep both houses and properties if you continue going to school and graduate, at the time of this will being written you are still in high school. You must also live in the main house for at least a year, if you decline to stay in the house you will forfeit both estates. If you decide to stay in the home, all taxes and expenses will be paid for until you turn twenty-five." Reader could only blink. Her tongue was too tied up to even get a word out.

She basically had no ties to this woman besides the fact they were blood-related. And now on her death bed, she was giving her basically everything she had? Who does that?

Aunt Lizz spoke up somehow "She is still in high school, I can promise you Mr.Wilton that she will keep going to school and graduate. We can stay in the house too for a year as well." her voice was teetering on manic. This was a once-in-a-lifetime situation and both of them knew it. If they took this weird deal, this borderline crazy inheritance, both of them could be set for life.

There was no way they could say no.

"Well good then because that's all she wrote. Here is the paperwork along with all the sets of keys given in the letter. My number is in the file if you need me. Nothing at both properties have been touched or disturbed since Katie's death. I would like to say that I and sorry for your loss, Katie was a nice woman and great friend of mine.." Mr.Wilton said with a heavy heart as he passed them a large stack of papers and two sets of house keys. Lizz took the files from the desk without even looking at them. She gave him a smile before helping the still-shocked Reader get up from her chair. Her lips moved but nothing came out.

They both walked out of the office without a word to anyone. They passed a small group that was still walking the lobby. They paid them no mind as they scurried out of the funeral home. Lizz basically shoved the girl into her car before she could even understand what was going on. She jumped into the driver's side and slammed the door. They just sat there in the locked car for a good minute. Taking in the information dump that just happened.

Reader gulped out "This is actually insane." she slowly blinked while looking at the empty road.

Aunt Lizz scoffed " Insane? More like bat shit crazy. We went in there with less than a few hundred bucks to our names and now we have- I don't even know how much to our names. Do you understand what this means?" she almost

crackled. She threw her head back into the seat and laughed.

Reader slowly felt herself start to laugh. She couldn't tell what she was feeling at that moment but what ever it was made her start laughing out loud.

"No more traveling and less tournaments?"

"No more hotels and intent ramen!"

They both busted out giggling, the first time in months that they actually felt happy enough to laugh genuinely. For the first time in days, they felt good enough to take a moment to breathe. Not too terrified to think of what tomorrow could bring.

"So this means we are staying in California then?" Reader let out a small but happy sigh. Her eyes drifted over to her aunt. Lizz hummed as she slowly started to calm down from her short high. Lizz slapped the wheel of the car saying in a excited tone.

"Yep, it seems like we are. That attitude about beaches better magical disappear, because I am definitely hitting some later this month. You better be ready."

[thirsty-4-ghouls]

Trying writing a bit about Emery short story style. This is about her fish backstory, if I make it fast and traumatic, like I originally had it. Now though, I kind of want to play with her seeing these things happen gradually over the course of months and have to figure it out with nothing to reference. Lots of doing tests on herself, trying to deal with growing pains, freaking out because some teeth fell out and then getting new ones that were very much not what she had before. Anyway, here is v 1 traumatic speed run edition:

As an adult we often forget how growing pains felt. As a child you never knew when your tissues would ache down to the bone as your cells themselves changed your form. You never did experience the entire process all at once, it would be too much for a person to grow and change so much in one night. It would exhaust your body and twist around your mind. Our bodies aren’t merciful, but they are bound by what we can handle and survive. That is how things are when left to grow naturally. This wasn’t natural.

Maybe these things would have happened anyway, but in what world could things change so fast without killing the person? This wasn’t change through the natural passage of time, this was artificial. Sped up in a lab. They say she would change like this anyway, but it never would have gone so quickly. Maybe it would have been better to loose one tooth at a time before growing each new one. How would it feel to have the itching in your neck progress slowly, holes in your throat opening slowly? Would her hands hurt less if her bones didn’t change all at once? Would seeing in the dark be less shocking if it had happened over time? These questions and more would never be answered, as her body was encouraged to change in a period of hours and days instead of months. If she wasn’t awake it might be better, but she was. Her body would go through anything too quickly for it to work at this rate.

She couldn’t decide what to feel. She was cold, she hurt, the lights hurt. Her throat hurt. Her bones hurt. Each of these aches and pains were slightly different from the others, but they all hurt.

He said they weren’t allowed to kill her, so what was this if not death? Was it less of a betrayal if they had to let her go in the end? She was their only example, apparently. Nothing quite like her was on their radar before.

Eventually you get too tired. She would have broken her body had they not held her together through the process. Whatever they did to speed things up, they had stopped it from killing her as well. That part, that wasn’t her body at work. That was something else. You can only remain coherent, really conscious, for so long without loosing touch with reality. Those voids in her past were both a mercy and one of the most terrifying feelings of her life.

Eventually her body stopped changing and they stopped pushing. For the first time since that started they let her sleep, actually sleep, and she couldn’t stop herself from doing it.

When she opened her eyes again they were wrapping things up. Apparently she was in good enough condition, and they had learned enough, to let her go. The last thing she remembered before lying in the street was her son nodding at them to send her back. She had already been told she could never see them again.

Her body was shaking on the pavement from the strain of the last few days, even if she had apparently recovered enough to throw her back out. She felt like a fledgling in the middle of the woods. Nothing had noticed her yet, but she wasn’t in any condition to escape and everything could kill her. She wasn’t in her nest, she was lost.

She hid that first night out, having managed to get dressed, mostly.

She was never wearing those gloves again.

She bit her tongue a few times, unused to her teeth, and these bites hurt worse than before.

It really was interesting, the things that had changed about her body, there was a question of just what was she now, but she wasn’t in a place that was even remotely safe to face those thoughts.

The first night she was scared to even go back to her friends, she was on the surface again, but would they even recognize her? What would anyone say? Eventually you just have to see for yourself, or die, but she had already worked so hard to not do that. Maybe she could start on her own again, but she didn’t want to be alone again.

It wouldn’t be all that long before she could look at herself without thinking about betrayal, it was her body now, no going back. It could have been worse, these changes were admittedly kind of cool. However, it still wasn’t overnight.

By now she makes jokes about it, just like any other odd thing about her. She does manage to enjoy the changes somehow. She still would have preferred it to have happened slowly and unprovoked.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Let’s Get Away

Summary: It’s due time for Natasha to take a break.

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 3,899

“ty mne ne doveryayesh’?” - “do you trust me?”

* * * * * *

The other side of the bed is cold when you wake up, void of the body that had been keeping you warm at night.

Sleepy eyes scan the room and even though you know she’s gone again, you still feel disappointed to find her combat suit missing from the closet. 

Knowing that your worry for her isn’t going to allow you to go back to sleep, you toss the covers away from your body and trudge out of bed. After brushing your teeth, you grab the first aid kit and head to the common room.

Two and a half cups of tea and a partially burnt bagel later, you hear the tell tale sound of Natasha coming home. 

Not only does FRIDAY announce her arrival, Natasha herself lets out a pain induced groan.

Having known your fiancé for more than ten years, you can even hear the difference in her footsteps, the way her feet shuffle across the floor instead of her usually confident strut. She’s exhausted, bruised and beaten, but not in the least bit ready to admit to needing a break. 

It’s dead silent between the two of you. 

Natasha was really hoping you’d still be asleep, most nights she’d been able to slip back into bed without you noticing, until you saw the fresh scars and bruises in the morning. 

Tonight is different though, and she can tell. In the way you quietly rise from the couch and walk over to her, the way you sigh when taking her hand in yours and seeing her newly bruised knuckles, the way you aren’t able to look her in the eyes even after you’ve pulled her to sit down and start to tend to her wounds.

Every touch is soft, some could say overly delicate. You touch her as if one wrong brush of the alcohol soaked cotton will hurt her or break her completely. You know it won’t, she’s the Black Widow for Christ sake, she’s had far worse injuries than these and her pain tolerance is high, that doesn’t stop you from being gentle with her.

Even though the atmosphere is tense, Natasha can’t help but to remember that this is exactly how you were with her when you’d begun to develop feelings for her. 

Being a medic at S.H.I.E.L.D since before she was recruited meant you weren’t new to dealing with the injuries of the agents that came through. When she was brought to you the first time, with a gunshot wound to her thigh, you were the perfect picture of calm, cool, and collected. While you weren’t aggressive or rough with her, there was a noticeable difference in her first visit and how you would later treat her.

Despite her incredible skill, Natasha ended up taking a lot of trips to the med bay, all of which lead to you two getting closer. Which in turn lead to the development of your feelings for each other. Each one, she felt you becoming softer with her, she started to see the worry in your eyes when she would come in. There was something about the way you treated her as if she wasn’t invincible that drew her to you, she was always the badass Black Widow to majority of the people she knew, it was a breath of fresh air to have someone treat her like she’s just Natasha. 

Natasha sighs heavily,“ I’m sorry.” She mumbles, but you hear it in the quiet of the compound. 

For a moment she thinks you’re pissed at her, what with the lack of a quick reply. In reality you’re just focusing on pulling the tiny shard of glass out of her knuckle, cleaning, and wrapping it. 

Once you’re done, you set everything you’d used to the side, opting out of painkillers since it won’t do much to her enhanced dna anyway. 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” You ask softly, finally looking up into her eyes. It surprises you to see the amount of guilt in her eyes that you do. A frown forms on your face. 

“I-” she swallows, breathing heavily,“ I don’t mean to worry you so much.” That guilt in her eyes mixes with a troubled expression and it breaks your heart. 

“Then why keep going out there?” You turn to face her completely, legs folding as you play with your fingers.“ If you keep it up the NYPD are gonna be out of jobs.” You try to tease, hoping a little joke will take that look off her face.

God you hate seeing anything other than a smile on her face.

Natasha shakes her head and the tears that spring into her eyes after her prolonged silence takes your breath away.“ I don’t know what I am outside of being an Avenger,” she confesses. When a tear escapes, you reach up and swipe it away, leaving your thumb there to caress her cheek.“ There’s always been a mission, a threat, a purpose.”

Listening to the way she says it, you know what she actually means to say. She had a purpose. The fact that the Avengers dismantling has left her feeling so lost wasn’t something you knew. It affected her hugely. Tony and Clint both stepping away to be with their families, Thor switching over to the Guardians, Bruce going back to do whatever he had been doing after Thanos’ snap, and Steve choosing to go back to be with Peggy only to return and pass the Captain America mantle to Sam.

If you were in Natasha’s position there’s no way you wouldn’t be affected by that. Everyone was moving on, everyone seemed to have their purpose outside of the Avengers, everyone left her behind. 

You take a deep breath, tilting your head to catch her eyes,“ not knowing what to do is hard,” you see her shoulders drop at your words, as if she’s relieved to hear that you understand.“ But it doesn’t mean you don’t know who you are.”

That makes her freeze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Her head tilts to draw her gaze from the floor to your face.

“Nat, honey, you were an Avenger. And I know what that means to you. But being an Avenger was only part of who you are.” A gentle smile forms on your lips at just the thought of how extraordinary this woman is.“ You’re a loyal friend, an incredible aunt, a hero,” she chuckles softly at that,“ and you are the most amazing fiancé.”

Soft green eyes bore into yours, tears brimming her eyes again but for a different reason all together.“ I love you so much.” She says, turning to press a kiss to your palm. 

Pulling your hand away, you open your arms to her and she happily obliges to your invitation for a cuddle. A grunt of pain escapes her when she twists to lay between your legs, her body freezing up for a second, before she nearly slumps into you. 

Her back presses into your front, your arms circling her waist. You press a soft, lingering kiss to her temple and she laces her fingers with yours, taking in a deep calming breath. 

“The last few years have been hectic, and even before all of that, it seemed like we never slowed down,” you tighten your hold on her,“ but right now, we don’t have those kinds of threats looming over our heads.”

“You’re saying I should stop.” 

With a frown, you shake your head and lean over to look her in the eye,“ no, god no. I told you, a hero is part of who you are. What kind of fiancé would I be if I told you to stop doing what you were meant to do? Not a very good one right?” She answers with a nod and a chuckle.“ nor would I be a good fiancé if I let you keep going without telling you to take a break.”

As if her body picks up on that phrase alone, a long, loud, yawn leaves her lips. You can’t help but smile at how cute she looks, her nose all scrunched, eyes shut. The second the yawn ends she blinks back the tired tears and snuggles closer. 

She says something but it’s muffled by another yawn and by the time that one ends, her eyes are shut, and she’s fast asleep. 

* * * * * *

When Natasha wakes up in the morning, she’s in bed and she’s alone. 

The emptiness of the space beside her does something to her heart and she can’t help but wonder if you got this feeling whenever you woke up and she was gone. 

Some of that guilt from last night creeps back up and she groans, turning to bury her face into your pillow. While your scent usually calms her down, now it only serves in reminding her of just how dumb she feels. 

You’ve always been the most understanding and loving with her, more than anyone she’s known. Just like last night proved, you’ve always known that saving people even though it put her in danger was what she was meant to do. You knew how important it was for her to clean her ledger, you even understood when she went to Russia for months to shut down the Red Room and make amends with her family. 

The second she came back you didn’t have to ask if she’d done what she set out to do, you could just tell and it translated through the following days. You took even greater care of her just to ensure that she was truly okay both physically and emotionally.

After all of that, after all you’ve done for her, she’s still making you worry by throwing herself into danger she doesn’t have to be involved in. Somehow you even understand that.

This time she groans, squeezing the pillow as frustrated tears pool in her eyes. 

“That does not sound like someone who’s having a good morning.” Your teasing voice hits Natasha’s ears and through her frustration she can’t help but roll her eyes. Then moving to sit up, resting her back against the headboard.“ Wh-what’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

You rush to her side, hands and eyes instantly starting to roam her body for any signs of injury worse than what you found last night. 

“I-I’m fine, physically.” That just makes your frown deepen.“ I just realized I’m the worst fiancé in the world.”

Figuring this has to do with last night, you climb over her legs and sit beside her.“ As your fiancé I think I’m the one to determine whether that’s true or not.” She raises an eyebrow at you and you know to drop all the teasing.“ Okay okay. Why do you feel that you’re the worst?”

“Aren’t you tired of me?” She turns to look at you directly.“ I’ve always been in danger and you’ve understood and now I’ve been blatantly throwing myself head first into danger and yet you still understand?”

You cock your head to the side with love in your eyes.“ I’m far from tired of you Romanoff. Am I fond of the idea of you being beaten up and shot at, no. But I love you and I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. And I’m going to worry about you because that comes with loving you. You could work with puppies, or babies, or I don’t know what a safe job is, either way, I’d still worry about you.”

A sigh falls from her lips,“ that makes me feel a little better.”

“I know how you can make it up to me.” Hopeful eyes look back at you.“ Get your cute little ass out of bed, get ready, and meet me out front.” You smack a kiss to her cheek before hopping out of bed, leaving Natasha to watch you nearly bounce away in excitement. 

Curiosity is the main driving force in Natasha’s actions. She does in fact get out of bed, taking a much needed hot shower afterwards and changing into a pair black stretch pants and one of your sweatshirts.

The last thing she’s expecting when she meets you outside is to find you leaning against a very new looking silver sports car. It being a convertible allows her to see the red leather interior. 

“Is that my sweater?” You ask, brows pinched together with a finger pointed at her chest. 

“We’re getting married medovyy, what's yours is mine.” A sweet smile hits her lips. You weren’t going to ask her to change anyway cause you love seeing her in your clothes, but had you been considering it, that smile would’ve done you in.

Humming, you shake your head,“ that aside. Let’s go.” You reach back to grab the handle and pull the door open for your fiancé. 

“Go where?” She takes a hesitant step forward.

You smirk, reaching up to cup her cheek and ghost your lips over hers,“ ty mne ne doveryayesh'?” You whisper.

Dammit she’s a sucker for you speaking Russian. Had she known when you started learning in your first years of dating that it would become a weakness, she would’ve stopped you. You already had a hold on her, that just made it tighter.

It’s why she nods, seemingly in a trance. Only easing into the seat after you’ve given her a proper kiss.

The door shuts after her and you round the car, jumping over the door and into the driver’s seat. You look over at her,“ I’ve always wanted to do that.” You say giddily, before clicking your seatbelt into place.

With a shake of her head, she puts her seatbelt on as well, and gets comfortable in her seat.

“The final destination is a surprise, but you can know that we’re going to that little diner you love so much in Greenwich.”

She can’t help but smile at you. She couldn’t get more lucky if she tried. 

“One last thing,” you reach across her lap to the glove compartment, pulling it open and retrieving two pairs of sunglasses. Setting them in your lap, you lean towards her and reach up, fingers deftly combing the braid from her hair, and then you slip the glasses onto her face. 

Winking at her, you slip your own pair on and start the car. It purrs to life and right before you pull away from the compound, you flick the radio on. 

The quiet that settles over the two of you is full of contentment. Music plays softly as Natasha holds your free hand in hers, fingers occasionally playing with the engagement ring on your finger. 

That feeling remains as you open the door for her and escort her into the diner. You let her slide into the booth first and she takes your hand and tugs you down into the seat beside her. 

An amused smile plays on your lips that makes the redhead give you a look, her eyebrow raised at you.“ What?” She asks.

“Nothing I just-” you chuckle shortly,“ I remember a time when you’d only let me sit across from you. I could hold your hand but sitting next to you, that was a no. Wasn’t until a year after we made things official that you let me sit next to you. I couldn’t help but wonder if that meant I was special.”

Her finger presses into the side of your jaw and she gently turns your head to face her,“ you are special. Especially to me.” And then she kisses you so sweetly you think it might give you a cavity. 

Your breakfast date passes with flirty remarks, quietly spoken affections, and soft kisses between bites of food and sips of tea and coffee. After which you settle the bill and head back out to the convertible. 

The next destination is unknown to Natasha but, unlike usual, she finds herself excited about the unknown. It’s an odd feeling but she welcomes it, letting herself feel free of worrying about what’s next. And you revel in seeing her like that. 

Sending an occasional glance in her direction just to watch her long red tresses flow with the wind, to smile softly at the way she shuts her eyes and let’s the breeze caress her skin, and to chuckle when her hand raises to create a wave against the wind. 

More than ten years you’ve known her, majority of which you’ve had the privilege of calling her yours. If there’s one thing being with her has taught you, through every obstacle you two faced together be it arguing about if tea was better than coffee to the many many life threatening missions she’s been on, it’s that moments like these were precious. 

There’s never any way of telling when the next world or universe threatening event will occur, if it’ll be the one to take Natasha away from you, so it became abundantly important that you get these chances to bask in being with her. 

Your thoughts lead you to subconsciously taking her hand in yours, raising it to press your lips against the back.

Natasha smiles. She swears your lips feel like rose petals. Nothing compares to your kisses. 

“I love you,” you say blissfully. 

Nothing except that.

“I love you too,” she squeezes your hand. 

The look of excitement that lights across your face makes her eyebrows raise. It’s not the same as the usual look you get when hearing her say those words, your expression is usually softer. Which is why she follows your line of sight when you look away from her.

Her eyes are met with the view of a beautiful lake house and she quickly snaps her gaze back to you. 

“You’ve given the NYPD a break these past couple of months, I think you’re in need of one.” A wink finishes your statement and she surges forward, hands on your face to pull you into a searing kiss. It expresses her love for you more than words ever could.

With the cutest most beautiful smile you’ve ever laid eyes on, she throws her door open and excitedly tells you to come on. And you’re more than happy to follow. 

Leaving the bags you secretly packed in the trunk, you accept Natasha’s outstretched hand, and allow her to guide you around the grounds. 

The view of the lake and everything beyond looks even better than the pictures let on. For a last minute trip to Jersey, this was considerably good.

Despite how tempting it is to stroll down the dock and hold Natasha in your arms like the clichés you read about, you save that for later, instead following the still curiously excited redhead towards the house. 

In one action you scoop your fiancé up into your arms after having unlocked the back door. Her arms wrap around your neck and she raises her eyebrows at you in question.

“Figured I could get some practice.” Your teasing tone is back, your words bringing a coy smile to her lips.

“Are you still excited?” She asks as you step into the house, careful to not bang her head on the door.“ I know we’ve pushed it off a few times.” 

You gingerly set her down.

Postponing the wedding was never due to a lack of wanting to be married. 

The first plan was thrown out the window when Lagos happened and the team fell apart. Neither of you were sure about getting married while on the run, your family no longer around. But you’d found yourselves in the city of love, completely taken by the atmosphere, and decided that there was no need to wait. Then Thanos came. Losing half of your family to his homicidal plan hit you both incredibly hard.

Three and a half years it took for you both to realize that maybe you couldn’t get everyone back, which also made you appreciate that through everything you’ve always had each other. While there was nothing you could do about the past, you had a say over your present and you wanted to spend as much of that as wives as you could. Only for Scott Lang to show up in the midst of planning with the idea of the Time Heist.

All of that happened, you got everyone back and were blessed with your family again. So when things settled you both got back to planning. A year and six months after the final battle against Thanos, where Thor “went for the head”, you were finally a mere two months away from making the woman that is the love of your life your wife. 

“Am I excited to become a Romanoff?” Your question trails off with a pondering gaze to the ceiling. Natasha’s eyebrows pinch together at your need to think about it and seeing her frown makes you laugh.“ After three failed attempts I think it’s safe to say I’m pretty damn excited.”

The redhead smacks your arm in annoyance at your constantly playful behavior and you wrap your arms around her waist, laughing once again.“ You’re incorrigible.”

“Oh absolutely,” you wink,“ but I think that’s one of the many things you love about me.”

Her eyes narrow and her lips press together in a thin line, a hum of uncertainty leaving her lips. That makes your jaw drop and this time Natasha laughs. When she raises a brow at you, you nod in understanding. 

A beat of silence passes before you both set off to do something, Natasha offering to make tea and you go to grab the luggage from the car. Taking both straight to the bedroom before going back to join Natasha. 

She raises the cup of tea to her lips, eyes focused on the view outside the window. You slip behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder and looking out the window as well. 

You know something’s on her mind but you’d learned a long time ago to let her open up herself as opposed to prying.

“Do you think everyone will be able to make it?” She finally speaks up.

Biting your lip in thought, you take a deep breath,“ I think everyone is going to try their best to be here but things come up. Everyone has RSVP'd so they want to be there that’s for sure.” You’re taken aback when you turn and find those green eyes staring back at you.

The most intense emotions swirl in those angel eyes.

“I know I keep saying it but, I love you, so much.” Her free hand raises to rest on your cheek. 

“And I, you my love.”

Adjusting herself back into your hold completely, she returns her gaze to the lake.“ Thank you for this trip as well.”

“I figured if I brought you out here I could get lucky.” 

That statement seems to be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Natasha slips from your grasp and heads towards the back door.“ Wait no, I’m sorry. I meant to say that I did it cause I love you and I wanted to spend time with you!” You call after her, only for her to continue to walk away. 

For the rest of this trip, Natasha knows you’re going to continue to be a pain in her ass but she also knows that for every annoying and teasing comment, there are ten times as many affirmations of love and whispers of sweet nothings. 

You whisked her away to give her the break she so greatly needs and deserves and you plan to make sure she enjoys it in full.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows

[sweetestlamb]

Mostrami Amore.

Summary: Cha-young tries to move on from a certain mafia boss. 

Author’s Note: Thank for to everyone who sent in prompts for Chayenzo, it resulted in this mess. I don’t have much to say, I considered making this into a multi- chaptered story but honestly I don’t have time for another ongoing story so if this seems rushed it was a little, I wrote it in one go today. Hope you enjoy this, I stuck in some of my favorite crack ship because I am weak and obsessed. Happy reading! 

p.s takes place after final episode but han seo lives because this is my world and I get to play God. 

Another postcard.

Their delivery becomes sporadic and she’s embarrassed at the giddiness that washes over her each time a new square is sent miles across a wide stretch of ocean, the view on the card most likely lackluster in comparison to the true rendering of Malta. She has spent many hours on her laptop searching for images of the small paradisiac island, yearning to see what he sees and feel just a tad bit closer to him. Most of her life has been spent in solitude with only her work acquaintances filling the void at times, so she expected herself to be more equipped to deal with his disappearance and subsequent absence. But nothing prepares her for those moments at the coffee shop, when she finds herself smiling across a table only to realize there is no miniature espresso cup in the hand of a very dangerous Italian Korean mafia member grinning back at her. 

The smile melts off her face and she swallows the bitter cool sludge in her cup, the beverage tasting exactly as he had described it without him there. 

Nights are the hardest, loneliness coils around her like a snake. 

There was never any other fate for them, she knew that when Vincenzo murdered all their enemies this was their only real outcome. He would always be a fugitive on the run and she an accomplice if he were captured and questioned, it was in both of their best interests if he vanished from the face of the planet. But knowing that does nothing to qualm the ever present feeling of isolation that clings to her skin as she sits alone on her couch, downing makgeolli at a vicious pace. Trying to wash his taste from her mouth, that kiss on loop in her mind and the phantom grip of his hand on her neck. 

It’s those treacherous nights without the plaza members that have become a second family to her and Han Seo following her like the lost puppy he is calling her “Noona” so freely and frequently until she forgets her own name, that she allows herself to feel exactly what she’s feelings. 

Heartbroken. 

Desperate. 

Lonely. 

Rage. 

The last one she hides like a dirty secret in the closet of her heart, she knew what she was signing up for. She has no legitimate reason to be angry, or so she tries to reason with herself. But. This was the same man who had bypassed the security of one of the richest men in Korea and ultimately killed him without leaving a trace. She had watched him do despicable things, blackmailing, threatening, seducing, and murdering others as he saw fit and yet, he hadn’t used any of those dastardly ways to see her. That chance meeting at the art gallery had been the last she had seen of him, Then a few weeks later another postcard with the same message she had boldly uttered at the airport, it feels insufficient after having him in her arms again. She knew in that moment that they would never be enough again. She hadn’t even argued when Mr. Nam claimed he would leave this one on his table instead, she merely nodded and walked away to peruse the new sexual assault case she has taken recently. 

It gets harder and harder to hear Han Seo regaling the wonders of his “hyung”,  her anger boiling deep below the surface like magma waiting to explode and transform into something tangible and destructive. 

“He told me that he has a room for me too. I wonder when he’ll let us visit.” 

She nods absently, staring out the window at the sunlight twinkling in through the blinds but then his words register and the gears in her head churn before running the sentence back through to carefully process them. 

“He---what? You spoke to Vincenzo?” 

The human puppy pouts his lips before tilting his head and dealing a hard blow to her ego and her heart, “Yeah, he sends me letters. I got so scared the first time! He said the letter would self-destruct after I read it and I really thought that was true and I dived across the room to escape but I bumped my head on the table and then...” 

He sent Han Seo letters.  

She had received the same fucking postcard for months on end with the same message she had said to him, and he had time to write Han Seo letters. He hadn’t sent her even one in the time he had been gone. 

“That fucking bastard!”  She explodes interrupting Han Seo’s recount of his near death experience and he looks wide- eyed and taken back by her outburst, she almost soothes him before another wave of anger rushes through her veins. She had accepted the bare minimum because she thought this was all he could give her but it seemed she was being too naïve. He was Vincenzo Cassano after all, he could make anything happen. She had seen it with her own two eyes. If he wasn’t reaching out to her maybe that was a message and she was too blind to see it. 

“Noona? Are you okay?” Han Seo looks absolutely terrified, eyes huge and quivering. She doesn’t bother answering, grabbing her cup of lukewarm coffee and stomping out of the office ignoring Mr. Nam’s calls behind her. She’s tired of being an idiot. 

She throws herself into forgetting him, the same way he seems to have forgotten her despite his words to her that fateful night on the stairs. 

I thought about you everyday. 

Actions speak louder than words and she is done accepting his crumbs. She has never needed anyone, had even accepted when her own father wanted nothing to do with her; she has basically been prepping for this moment her entire life. 

So she goes shopping with Miri, buying gadgets that she has no idea how to use but that the other girl makes sound like things that she definitely needs such as a new home security system, her break in still fresh in her mind. She grins at the pretty smile on the other girl’s round face as she explains the specification of the machines around them and she can see why Han Seo has such a huge crush on the girl, the pretty blush that blossoms on the other girl’s cheek after stating the fact out loud is adorable and she pinches said cheek much to her chagrin. 

“You should worry about your own love life.” Miri teases but the words sting like acid on her skin and she turns away to hide the grimace on her face, but she’s not fast enough and the other girl catches her wrist halting her movement. 

“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Cassano?” Miri whispers the last part, looking around to make sure that nobody overhears them. 

She forces herself to stifle her emotions, trapping them in the back of her mind refusing to let him have this kind of affect on her. 

“I wouldn’t know.” She tries for a emotionless tone but even she can hear the bitterness in her own voice and Miri’s eyes fill with pity and it makes her sick to her stomach, “Don’t. I am going to be fine. Let’s just go.” 

They don’t utter single word in the car ride home. 

After that it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in the plaza thinks something is wrong with her and are teaming up to make her feel better. It’s the packed lunches that keep showing up on her desk without fail, her clothes being steamed and pressed for free, the way that they won’t allow her to be alone and there are countless spontaneous family game nights all ending with her drunk and being carried home. 

Tonight Mr. Tak is the unlucky volunteer, dragging her limp body in her father’s house and she thinks of all the times that they drank here together and a certain person was the one hauling her body to bed complaining and grumbling but that distractingly fond smile on his face that he only ever seemed to shoot her way. Her heart thumped loudly as he loomed over her and leaned in close, getting her hopes up only to brush her hair behind her ears and softly tell her, “Go to sleep now,” and she had never been obedient all her teachers could testify to that but when he looked at her like that she was powerless to do anything else but listen. 

“I miss him.” The traitorous words fall from her lips and vanish into the inky darkness of the night. 

A deep sigh from the left of her, “We know.” 

She feels vulnerable, the worst thing about having a weakness is other’s noticing too. She hates how weak she feels. 

“I am going to forget him.” 

The body supporting most of her weight tenses under her arm and she waits for his response, they all love Vincenzo- he had become their unexpected hero and leader in many ways. They would always take his side, she knows that. 

“If that’s what you need to do to be happy. Then, do it. Loving a man like Vincenzo isn’t easy.” 

She turns to look at him in genuine shock. 

“What? You thought I would tell you to keep waiting with no end in sight? You should know by now, you mean a lot to us too. Your happiness is important to us too, we’re a family.” 

“But we’re the Cassano family,” she challenges unable to accept that they could love her without Vincenzo attached, but Mr. Tak shrugs at the clarification, “We can be the Hong Family too.”

She feels her eyes swimming. 

“I should go inside.” 

She feels sober and more awake than ever, she stays up all night twirling the long strands of her hair in between her fingers. 

Thinking. 

Variety is the spice of life. 

She doesn’t know where she’s heard that but it’s those sage words that are the catalyst for her spontaneous decision. 

“Same as always? Silky with some body?” Her stylist peers into her eyes through the wide mirror and she hears herself say, “No I want a cut and some color.” Yu-jin raises one pretty tweezed brow but nods after a moment’s pause, “Okay. How short are you thinking?” 

And that’s how she starts her day with long thick hair that grazes her lower back and ends it with a short bob that tickles her neck. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulder, metaphorically and literally and she loves the face that she sees in the mirror, her eyes looking brighter than they have in months. She feels more alive, like a snake shedding its skin and becoming a newer and fresher version of itself. 

“Your hair?” That becomes the running theme for her day, shocked gaping mouths and hands reaching out for the hair that was once there.  She merely smirks at their palpable surprise, especially Seol-jin who doesn’t recognize her from behind. 

“I haven’t seen a pretty lady like you aro--Oh Ms. Hong! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, I am so sorry please excuse me!” The interpretative dancer bolts away leaving her to watch him bemused, she skips to Jipuragi with a pep in her step laughing loudly when Mr. Nam drops his coffee upon seeing her and the brown liquid goes flying and douses him in a sticky hot mess. 

It’s an entertaining day to say the least. 

Moments later when he’s finished cleaning himself up and changing into the cheetah print track suit that he insisted to keeping in the office, he mentions that a new postcard has arrived. She nods at the information, looking at her laptop and it’s only seconds later that she finally looks up and sees that he’s waiting for her response. She doesn’t have one. 

Forcing a tight smile on her face she replies, “Oh that’s great. Just put it with the others.” 

He does. 

But she can feel his eyes on her, his concern heavy and tangible in the air. 

She pretends not to notice and keeps clicking away on her laptop, only glancing over at the card once or twice. But it’s only out of habit. 

Nothing more. 

She starts going on dates with random men. Men she meets in coffee shops, on the streets, in bars, hell one time even the bookstore. She never meets the same man twice and they never get what they want but it does make her feel desirable and that’s all she’s looking for. 

“Where are you going?” Han Seo asks her curiously, Miri by his side as she struts out the plaza new perfume on her skin. 

“On a date. I’ll see you both later.” They both gape at her and can only watch with wide eyes as she sashays away, heels clicking with every step. 

Word spreads like wildfire and no one takes it harder than Mr. An, who calls her a “jezebel” and cries at the front of the law firm for hours, she has to step over him to go get lunch shaking him off when he latches on to her ankles. 

The others just look at her with sad eyes, filled with both understanding and disappointment. 

Much to her surprise the lunch boxes keep coming and her clothes are still pressed and starched to perfection though. 

She also starts taking self defense classes, Korea is much more dangerous than she had first suspected and she has to be able to protect herself because nobody is coming to save her.  Not anymore. 

It becomes a great outlet for her built up anger and her instructor praises her for being a fast learner. She grins and nods before flipping him and twisting his arm around his own neck in a modified sleeper hold. When he taps on her arm she squeezes tighter instead of letting go and he goes limp for a moment before she comes back to herself and releases him hastily with a quick apology, “Sorry!”

He rubs his neck, panting for air and she feels guilty, there's a tinge of that but most of all she feels powerful, more so than she has for a long time. 

It’s crazy but she finds herself asking him for drinks after class and even crazier is that he agrees even with her marks still there on his skin, the area bruised and red. He looks at her like she’s challenge that he wants to conquer, she lets him believe that’s possible. It’s only a bit of fun anyway, she has no plans for anything serious. 

Drinks turn into a drunken cab ride home with his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin material of her tights and they don’t feel right- too small and not rough enough but she’s moving on and she has no time to reminisce. 

There hasn’t even been a postcard lately. Message, loud and clear. 

When she shoves the keys into her door, he’s glued to her body leaving wet kisses on the long column of her neck and she tries to suppress the nausea that swims in her stomach, everything feels wrong and she hates herself for feeling that way. Why shouldn’t she fuck whoever she wants? He is probably doing the same thing, everyday on his beautiful private island. Kissing women that aren’t her and whispering dirty Italian words into their ears as he rocks back and forth, nary a thought of that Korean woman he knew once upon a time. 

Fuck him. 

She rocks back into the purposeful grind of the hips behind her, feeling the hardness that digs into the soft flesh of her ass and finally the door opens and they both tumble in haphazardly and he thrusts a hand under her loose shirt fingering at her breasts before a dark figure moves far too quickly in her peripheral and she hears her date cry out in pain. 

She almost faints at the familiar sight of the one person she never expected to see, the hard glint of his cold eyes as he twists the same hand that had just been fondling her chest. The grip looks painful, the wrist contorted in an unnatural manner. 

“What the fuck? You have a boyfriend?!” Her instructor cries out, voice high pitched falling to his knees as Vincenzo kicks his feet out from under him. 

She rolls her eyes, of course he would come now when she is trying (and failing) to get over him. 

Vindictively she answers the question, ‘No.” 

But that makes Vincenzo twist the wrist in his grip even tighter and she can see the bones breaking so she takes pity on the poor man, he didn’t sign up for a murderous mafia leader after all. 

“Just let him go. You have no right to do any of this.” 

He doesn’t listen right away and absently she wonders if she’ll need to test out her new moves on him, it would be satisfying to deck him square in the face. She dreams of that as often as she dreams of their reunion. Her feelings are...complicated to say the least. 

Then with a grunt, he throws the other man away like he’s trash and growls out, “Get out of here before I kill you.” 

She tries not be get turned on by that. But it’s a hard sell, her body already getting revved up. He’s telling the truth. 

The man wastes no time, jumping to his feet and bolting out the door without one backwards glance. Asshole, he was really just leaving her with a clearly unstable and dangerous man. 

“We need to talk.” Vincenzo squeezes out between clenched teeth, and her blood runs cold but she stares him dead in the eyes tired of this game they’ve been playing, if he’s here to end things she wants to know. 

“Okay. Then talk.” 

She looks insanely beautiful, with her hair cropped so short bringing his eyes to the tantalizing length of her neck. His eyes close in on a spot of moisture on her neck, he feels his blood boiling imagining that bastard touching any part of her.  She’s glaring right back at him, her chest rising and falling and he can’t help but check her out, it’s been months since he saw her in person the photo of her doing aerial yoga above his bed couldn’t compare to the tempest that is Cha-young in real life. 

The flat plane of her belly is on display under the white crop top loosely stretched across her chest which leads down to her slim hips and legs wrapped in white spandex, leaving very little to the imagination not that he hasn’t imagined her in far less many, many times. Too many times to count. Spilling across the silk adorning his king sized bed with only her name on his lips. 

She looks fucking hot. 

That makes it even more frustrating because he can still clearly see that bastard wrapped around her like a snake and his hands going up her shirt---he has to take a deep breath before he breaks something. Or chases that asshole to break his face. 

There’s so much he wants to say to her, so much he owes her. 

I missed you. 

I love you. 

Come with me. 

“Who the hell was that?” He says this instead then watches her eyes glint over into nothing but pure murderous rage. Wrong move. But he couldn’t help it, green eyed raged taking away his decision making abilities. 

“That’s all you have to say? Get out.” 

He wasn’t expecting rose petals and trumpets when he returned but he definitely wasn’t expecting this, her cold glare or another man in his spot. He thought she would wait for him, just as he had done for her. 

“Are you serious right now?” He counters, flabbergasted. 

“Deadly. Get out.” 

He clenches his fist, and then stomps out. Turning back but only to watch the door slam in his face. 

What the hell. 

It had only taken a letter from Han Seo to get him on boat that would take him to an open field and hours later he was soaring through the skies on a hot air balloon, on his way back to Korea. It was insane and he barely had time to explain to his family but Luca nodded at him like this was the only choice and told him that he would take care of everything, and he trusted those words more than he had ever trusted anything in his life.

“Vai a prendere la tua donna( go get your woman).” 

He had nodded, gruffly patting the other man on his shoulder before hopping over into the waiting boat. 

But he wasn’t so certain anymore that Cha-young was his. 

She seems different. Colder almost, she leaves whenever I mention your name and she goes on dates now. I think she’s moving on hyung, what are you going to do? 

Those words had been the scariest thing he had never seen. Scarier than every gun that had ever been pointed at his head. He thought what they had was something special, something that could stand the test of time and distance. He stared at the huge pile of letters on his bedside, all addressed to her. He had written one everyday since they had been separated, but each time he was too much of a coward to send it. In those letters he could say things that he could never say to her face, things like how much he ached without her by his side and how her smile was the only thing that kept him going. In those letters he could regal the ways he loved her, and how deeply she had been branded into his soul, every atom of his body belonged to her and her alone.  He would kill for her, die for her, anything she needed or merely wanted he would provide it, all she needed to do was ask. 

He could only share those feelings in the letters. 

He walks for hours, until he ends up at his old apartment the familiar door greeting him and he sticks his hand in his pocket before he remembers that he gave the key away, with a sigh he starts to walk away before the door creaks open and he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months. 

“Hyung!” 

A warmth spreads across his back as a solid weight almost knocks him off his feet. He reaches one arm around his body, awkwardly slapping the face that is pressing into his collar. 

“You really chose to stay here.” 

He feels the nod on his shoulder, “Of course. It made me feel closer to you hyung, I missed you.” 

He grunts in response, before turning around and tugging the younger man into a real hug. He had missed the annoying little leech too, he had missed everyone. 

They are still in each other’s embrace for a moment before Han Seo pulls away, sympathy etched deep on his face. 

“She wasn’t happy to see you.” 

“There was someone else there.” He hates the words even as they leave his mouth and Han Seo winces, looking pained for him before tugging him into the small apartment. Everything is just like he left it.  He looks around in awe. 

“I’m sorry hyung. What are you going to do?”

That’s the golden question, he pondered it all the way here and he’s no closer to knowing the answer to that. Usually she is the one that makes the move, she has always been the brave one between them. He back steps and says things he doesn’t mean and she sees through him and smashes down all his walls. That’s how this has always worked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Let her be happy.” 

A loud scoff reaches his ears, “Sure. Is that why you sailed across sharked infested waters and trusted a hot air balloon company run my former thugs?”

He smarts at the sarcastic reply and glares before flicking the cheeky brat on his nose, "I liked you better when you were stupid you know. Now you're a little smart ass."

The younger man looks even more youthful as he grins back at him, rubbing at his nose before shrugging.  "I learned from the best."

He has no rebuttal for that so he tries to flick him again, giving chase when he darts off.

It feels good to be home.

He warns Han Seo not to tell anyone that he's here least they give away his location.

So he's not surprised the next day to find the cavalry at his doorstep hands filled to the brim with containers of food. There are tears, mostly from Mr. Nam who won't stop screaming his name and pinching his cheeks to see if he's real and Mr. An who wraps around him like a koala despite his very detailed threats. It's all chaos and so familiar that his heart aches but her absence is like a hole in his chest. Nobody mentions her but they all keep looking at the door, so it's obvious that she was invited but chose not to come.

Because she didn't want to see him.

"You're here to win her back right?" He doesn't know who even utters the words but when he glances up they are all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't know that was what he was indeed here for thought that she would happily welcome him back and they could pick up where they left off but she's made it clear that this won't be the case. This will be the most important fight of his life.

"Yes. I'm here for Cha-young."

He gets enthusiastic thumbs up and a loud giggle from the Yeon-Jin  and Cheol-Wook’s adorable baby, her little hands too uncoordinated to do a thumbs up but she waves excitedly  feeding off the energy around her.

He wonders how Cha-young would look with a baby in her arms, their baby it's a dangerous thought. But one that he can't get out of his mind once he thinks it.

They stay until midnight, forcing him to eat and drink too much soju until he passes out to dreams filled with a round Cha-young, belly swollen and protruding from her body. 

It doesn't take much to learn her schedule(Mr. Nam hands him a laminated copy) and he has to put on a disguise but he enters the shop seconds after her, hearing her order that god awful sewer water she's so fond of.

"An espresso for me." He leans in too close, almost brushing her shoulder and she jolts at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him as if she's a mirage.

"You're still here?" She whispers and then shakes her head and looks away as if she's hadn't meant to say the words aloud.

It hurts him that she thought he would leave without telling her but he can't blame her, he has been anything but consistent. Instead of answering, he leans forward to hand his credit card to the cashier who glances between them suspiciously before accepting the card.

Their orders are ready in seconds and he follows her as she walks to their table, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar sight.

She turns to him with a glare, "It's just the only available table."

He moves to pull out her chair and she starts at him tight lipped before sitting down. She's in a tight black suit today, two long slits on the side of her pants going all the way up to her thighs. He gulps down his drink to get rid of the drool pooling in his mouth.

"You're upset with me."

She stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet, it's not a look he receives often but she's always the outlier in his otherwise organized life.

"Astute observation." She quips back, sucking loudly at her coffee.

"Why?"

He considered how to go about breeching this subject and in the end had decided on going straight to the source, he had been under the impression that this was working for them.

Her face morphs into a person he hasn't seen for a long time, the Cha-young that would berate him and make him angry enough to curse in Italian.

"Do you think this little of me?"

He's completely lost, "What do you mean? What did I do that was so wrong? Wrong enough for you to cheat on me!" He's panting now, his voice has gotten loud enough to catch people's attention he can feel them watching their table, nosy and invested.

"Cheat on you?"

Cold as ice, her voice is. It almost makes him shiver.

"How could I possibly cheat on you? We're not together. You send me the same postcard with the same message every few months. I have no idea what you're doing in Malta, who you're with. You can't even be bothered to send me a letter, do you think this is a relationship? You think it's enough to pop up like this every once in a blue moon? You've told me nothing about how you feel about me but I'm supposed to be satisfied with whatever you throw my way?"

If he wasn't sitting down his legs would have already given out he's certain about that. Her voice is deadly quiet each word landing and chipping away at his confidence.

"I'm doing the best I can! You knew it would be like this after everything was over, why are you blaming me now? How about you, I don't know how you feel either!"

"I love you! Anyone with eyes can see that, I told you that at the airport too. And again when I took a bullet for you, you didn't think that meant I loved you? I was willing to die for you."

Shit.

It's not at all how he expected them to confess their love for each other, it's hard to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth as she bares her teeth at him.

"So why are you doing this? Why are there other men?"

Why aren't I enough? He wants to say but he's scared of her answer, terrified that she'll say that she can't do this anymore. That he just isn’t enough anymore. 

She stares at him long and hard.

Waiting for something. But he doesn't know what.

"You haven't changed at all. You're still a coward, I'm not interested in guessing anymore. I’m done playing this game.” 

She stands up and walks away, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.

Unwanted just like him.

She doesn't see him for days and she accepts that her words had done their damage, she had cried until she fell asleep that night. Waking up with swollen red eyes that no amount of concealer would save but thankfully no one commented on her state.

She goes through her day on autopilot and before she knows it she's back home, ready to face her night alone  again. She pushes the door open, half praying he'll be waiting for her but her hopes shattered when she turns on the lights and finds no one.

"It's better this way." She lies to herself, pouring herself an obscene glass of soju. She's going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this pain.

Her head is woozy and heavy when she hears a sound, suddenly alert she stills in her chair before rushing over to get a frying pan walking on the tips of her toes she prowls closer to the clicking sound, finding herself at the window peering at a long lost friend. Placing the frying pan on her window sill she pry opens the window, screeching when the audacious bird flies inside landing on her table as if he belongs there.

"Hey Inzaghi! Get your dirty bird feet off my table!"

He looks at her nonchalantly, making himself comfortable on said table and she sighs before shutting the window and drunkenly swaying over to him.

"What are you even doing there? Do you want to be my bird now, I won't be a very good owner. I won't remember to feed you. I barely remember to feed myself."

Despite being a bird he finds a way to roll his eyes at her before standing up and only then does she notice something on his leg. She looks at him cautiously before moving closer and untying the paper on his leg, the pigeon barely reacts before flying over to her couch. She sighs in annoyance, she's going to have to clean everything after this bird leaves.

She unwinds the string holding the paper together, unrolling the paper scroll. There is a message written inside: the rooftop. 9 pm.

Glancing at her clock the time shines at her.

7:34pm.

"This could be a trap."

It very much could be, she has enemies now. It was a small price to pay for taking down Babel but she's always looking over her shoulders now, so this note could easily be someone luring her to hurt her or get back at Vincenzo.

Inzaghi coos loudly at her as if he can hear her thoughts. This time he finds a way to look exasperated.

She stumbles off to her room.

She needs time to think.

"So she told you that she loved you and you didn't say it back?"

"I was shocked. She was growling at me and looked ready to kill me at the same time." He reasons back, trying to show his hyung his point of view. The younger man doesn't look even a little bit convinced by his logic.

"Okay and? That sounds perfectly normal for you too. You should have shot someone and wrote it back in their blood on the table."

He recoils in disgust at the suggestion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actually insane, why the fuck would I do that?"

Han Seo stares deadpan in return.

He puts up a hand trying to stop whatever response he has, "Don't say it."

It doesn't work.

"Pig's blood. Don't forget I saw it all, I've never seen Ms. Hong look so excited before. You're both crazy."

Well, that had been different. It was an old tradition, she simply had an appreciation for the classics.

"And I bet you're defending her right now in your mind. Noona is just like you, that's why you're made for each other. She's the gasoline to your fire."

"You know that would just make an even larger fire right?"

"Yes. I'm smart now remember? I know what I said."

He sighs falling into the comfortable familiarity of the couch, a spring digging into his thigh.

"Why didn't you say it back?" His stills at the barely whispered question, his chest constricting as he recalls the passionate confession. He had frozen, like he'd always known she was the brave one between them. Always doing the unexpected and the time was no different, her words had knocked him off his feet.

"Because I was scared."

Han Seo huffs at his honesty. He doesn't know where the words are coming from but he's tired of keeping it all in.

"Because if anything happens to her it'll break me, I thought it would be better if I kept her at a distance. I thought this was enough. I thought this would be easier. When I think about her I want to drop everything and just be with her and that...was too dangerous. I had to keep my distance."

There's a pregnant pause, just the sound of their breathing filling the void.

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Easier. Is this better? Enough?"

He thinks about Cha-young getting married to a faceless man, exchanging vows and sealing it with a kiss, happy and in love on their honeymoon wanton moans and screams from their room, learning that they're having a baby and her round and glowing with someone else's child smiling brightly as she rubs her belly and it's too much. He wants to smash it all into little pieces.

"No. It's not enough. I need her, without her nothing is enough."

"That's what you should have said to her. Don't glare at me I'm right, but I have an idea. I saw it in an American cartoon."

And that's how he lets his younger brother convince him to send a note to Cha-young using Inzaghi, the pigeon had shown up one night and he'd been so happy he almost kissed the bird.

"How will he know where Cha Young lives?" He asks skeptical even as he ties the note to the birds leg.

"I showed him a picture of her house. According to the cartoon, birds just know.” 

He stares at the younger man, wondering why he's listening to this ridiculous plan.

"This is stupid. I should just text her, Inzaghi is never going to deliver this. He's just a regular pigeon." 

"This is more romantic." He answers matter of fact.

"How is a pigeon delivering a message in anyway romantic?" He challenges already knowing from the shit eating grin he won’t like the response. 

"The same way pig blood was." The brat counters and he doesn't get a chance to respond before Han Seo picks Inzaghi up and throws him out the window, "In the name of love!" He only barely stops himself from bashing his head into the wall, the younger man has to wrestle him to the ground.

It's stupid. They did all of this for nothing the cool breeze makes him pull his coat tighter around his body, exposed to the weather on the open space of the rooftop.

He checks his watch, 9:48.

She's not coming and the worst part is that he doesn't know if it's because that damn bird never delivered his message or if it's because she really doesn't want anything to do with him. The burden of not knowing hurts more than anything.

Expelling the air in his lungs he walks back to the single door that leads off the roof, twisting the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open.

Meeting the shocked face of one Cha-young.

They both just stare at each other before he speaks, "You came."

He can't believe it. Inzaghi had actually delivered the note, somehow the pigeon had found her house and she was here. He almost pinches himself to see if he'd passed out on the roof and this was just a dream.

"I didn't know Inzaghi was a carrier pigeon." She futilely tries to change the subject and he takes a step back, gathering the tattered pieces of his courage. The same courage that had propelled him to kiss her all those months ago on the stairs.

"I'm so happy you're here. I waited for you."

She stares at him like he has two heads before blushing, and avoiding his eyes.

"Come with me." He extends his hands and tries not to be too hurt when she bypasses it and steps around him instead.

At least she was here.

With a quick swipe of his hand he sends the message to his accomplices.

Now.

The lights come on, fairy lights decorating the roof top in a heavenly glow. She spins around in wonder, eyes nearly as bright she's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.

Then the music starts.

The soft notes filling the space.

When I walk down a road I don't know well....

She looks around in wonder, staring back at him she can’t believe what’s happening. 

Then the letters start falling from the sky, all the letters he had written to her alone and missing her thousands of miles away. His plaza family smiles down at him, throwing letters from a higher building.

Cha-young stares up at the sky in surprise, hundreds of letters landing all around her.

It had taken a few days for Luca to send them all over and then another day to get the guts to do this, there was no turning back now. He had never willingly made himself vulnerable to anyone else, but according to Han Seo it was the only way he was going to win her back. 

“She just wants to know that you love her too. Show her.” 

He watches anxiously as she picks up a letter, stroking lightly at her own name on the front looking at him with stunned wet eyes. 

“You wrote me a letter.” Her voice is revere and awe that he doesn’t deserve, not after everything he has put her through in the sake of protecting himself but he’s too elated to see her looking at him like that again, like he’s someone important to her. 

“182. For each day we were apart. I told you I thought about you everyday, and every time I did I wrote you a letter.” 

She stares at the letter in her hand, gently ripping it open and devouring the words on the page. Nerves shoot up and down his body as he watches her read his most private thoughts about her, her expressive face for once empty of emotions as she silently reads the letter. 

He waits. 

Breathless and terrified. 

“Why didn’t you ever send them? They were mine so why did you keep them?” He hears an edge in her voice that makes him wonder if she’s only talking about the letters. 

“Cha-young, I don’t think you understand.” 

She breathes out loudly, stomping over to him until they are inches apart and he has no choice but to look into the deep pool of her eyes. 

“I don’t! I don’t understand anything, I thought you had found someone else in Malta and the postcards were just your way of being nice. I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did, you were sending Han Seo letters but you wouldn’t do the same for me. What was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you try to help me understand, you were gone for six months!” 

There’s so much wrong with everything she said, how could he find anyone else when his heart beats for her? How could he forget her when everything he did reminded him of her, he saw her every night in his dreams. But he doesn’t make the same mistake this time, he says what’s important. 

“I feel the same way. I love you Cha-young. I thought this was better for you, that this could be enough. But I was wrong, I missed you every minute of every--” 

“Come home with me.” 

He stops, stares, gapes and then stares some more. 

“What? I wasn’t finished confessing though.” Actually offended that she interrupted his planned speech. He was about to recite one of his favorite Italian love poems for her and then ask her to dance. 

She rolls her eyes dragging him towards the door, “Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time? It’s been six months and you have been here for too long, you have to go soon.” 

She’s right, he has a flight in two days for an identity he borrowed for his escape. 

“Listen to her, just go back to her place and have a good night!” That sounds like Cheol-Wook and then they all erupt into applause and start cheering and hollering, chanting their names and then to his embarrassment they start chanting, “Go have sex! Go have sex!” complete with the monks banging on their drums and he doesn’t think he will ever live down this moment, especially when he sees Miri capturing it on the new video camera he had gifted her. 

He flips them off as an eager Cha-young pulls him away their laughter following them all the way. 

The car ride is too long on the way over and she wonders how quickly she can undress them both as soon as they reach, there is simply no time to waste. 

But once they get to the doorstep he suddenly freezes, tugging her backwards into his chest. 

“This looks familiar doesn’t it?” His voice is dark and smoky and she immediately knows what he’s referring to, and she refuses to give him any reaction. 

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” 

“You let someone else touch you. Here.” He runs a hand up her neck, briefly squeezing, “And here,” she gasps at his hands suddenly on her breast, squeezing harshly at the tender flesh. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” She knows that she’s playing with fire, but that is their foundation. She has never aimed to cool him off or tone him down, she sees the dark side inside of him and loves it, encourages it and feeds on it herself allowing it to bring her darkness out too. 

He kicks the door open, shoving her side and she delights at the rough treatment. She hopes that she is filled with his bruises tomorrow. 

She doesn’t wait for his next move, pulling her shirt up and over her head before tugging off her skirt leaving herself in a barely there lace panties and a matching lace bra that is translucent, her nipples peeking through the sheer material. He stares at her transfixed, his hunger evident in his eyes and in the tent forming in his tight dress pants. 

“Take those off.” She commands and he smirks before obeying, peeling the pants off his thighs standing in his button down shirt and tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to her imagination, every delicious inch of him visible. She steps forward bringing their bodies in contact, before thrusting her hand inside the opening of his briefs. He feels hard and smooth, liquid pooling at the tip and she twists her hand collecting it to ease her slow strokes up and down. His voice hitches as she fingers his balls and without warning she tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare to her eyes. 

Mesmerized by the unencumbered sight of him, she drops to her knees using her hand to guide him to her eagerly waiting mouth. 

His flavor explodes on her tongue and she swallows more, grabbing his hips to drag him deeper into her mouth until she can feel him in her throat, but even after her eyes start to burn and she feels herself choking she doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down hungrily, sloppy wet sounds filling the room in a filthy symphony. At first he lets her control the movement, pliant in her hands but as she increases her speed and suction he starts groaning and huffing loudly and then she feels his hand on the back of her hand, keeping her in place and when she looks up at him he looks wrecked. Eyes dazed and his face red and flushed, she ingrains that image in her mind, for when he’s gone and all she has are her toys. 

She stares back defiantly before he draws himself out of her mouth, a single line of spit connecting them and then he thrusts back into her mouth roughly and she opens her mouth wider to accept the abuse, loving every second of it even as a her throat aches. He sets a frantic pace, his balls slamming against her chin and she doesn’t realize at first that his grunts have transformed into words, too much blood rushing to her head. 

“Mine. Mine, nobody can---ah fuck! Nobody can see you like this. Only me. You’re mine.” 

He fucks her mouth like it’s his to use and do what he pleases, and she’s wetter than she’s ever been listening to him claim her verbally and with the wet push of his dick in her mouth. 

She starts grinding on the floor like a cat in heat and without preamble he grabs her under her armpits and lifts her like she weighs nothing, his dick sliding free from her hot mouth, “I want to make you scream.” He says this like a declaration of love and she throws herself at him, kissing the words off his lips. His tongue swirls in her mouth and she wonders if he can taste himself in her. It makes her hotter and she grinds her barely covered pussy onto his naked length, groaning at the friction even though the thin layer separating them. 

He tosses her onto the bed and she doesn’t even remember them walking, his tongue and his wondering fingers had completely distracted her. 

She lays sprawled across the bed as he stares at her, like she’s feast he can’t wait to devour. 

“Nobody has been in here.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking a question or making a statement, but she feels that his jealousy is real. Seeing her with someone else had done something to him, guilt washes over her. If she had seen him with someone else she would have lost her mind too. 

“Nobody. I never brought anyone home before, that guy was a mistake. I was just hurt and missing you. I’m sorry.” 

He had abandoned her for six months and she didn’t owe him anything but his pain is her pain and they are stronger now, everything has been said. 

“Good.” 

Then he rips her panties away and buries his face between her legs, prying her wide open with his hands and lapping at her with his searing hot tongue. Immediately he has his wish and she screams, loud enough to fill the entire room. 

“Already screaming amore? It’s going to be a long night, I want to make you hoarse.”  

She doesn’t get a moment to respond before he’s back to licking and sucking at her most sacred part, fingers deep inside her as he thrusts and strokes alongside his tongue, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem and she tries to stifle the scream but a particularly deep fuck makes the sound erupt from her throat and her head feels dizzy from the overwhelming sensation. 

He has boundless energy it seems, as time drags by and she feels her body tightening up as he systemically destroys her, he never takes a break or pauses, slurping up all the liquid that drips from her and the sounds of him swallowing are beyond erotic. When a hand runs up her stomach and squeezes at a bouncing breast she can’t contain her moans of pleasure, crying out as his fingers pinching the tight bud of her nipple. 

“Please.” 

He coos in her, “So pretty when you beg.” Then he sticks his tongue as far as it can go and she hears the rush of blood in her head as her body shakes apart and her release gushes from her body, twitching when he laps it all up her oversensitive body recoiling from the overstimulation. 

She has never come like that before, most men have never put in the work necessary to make her come and she wasn’t one to fake it so her experiences with sex with someone else were few and far in between. 

This feels like nirvana. 

“You still with me amore?” The bastard looks so smug, looming above her naked arms on the side of her head, and she had no idea when he took his shirt off. 

“I can’t feel like my legs.” 

He chuckles loudly at the statement, grinning growing wider. 

“Well I can assure you that they’re still there and they will look great wrapped around my waist.” 

Raising to his challenge, although her body is still buzzing she wraps her legs around his waist, they feel like jelly but she finds the strength to follow through with her movement. 

“I was right they do look great.” 

“Well this would look great in me.” She counters, grabbing at his thick ruddy red dick jutting from his body and he rocks into her hand before knocking her hand away and taking himself in his hand. 

“Do we need a condom?” He asks her, looking like he is ready to stop at nay minute if she tells him that they do. 

“No.” 

She has been on birth control since she was a teen and there’s been no one for her since she met him, and she trusts that it’s been the same for him. 

“Thank goodness, I want to feel everything.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s easing into her, slow and steady. She lets him continue for a moment before she tightens her legs around his waist and pulls him in roughly, as deep as she can get him in this position. “Fuck, you’re so impatient.” 

“Shut up and fuck me already.” 

He grumbles at her calling her bossy, but she sighs when he draws out and slams back in with a quick snap of his hips. 

“Yes just like that!” 

He takes direction very well, repeating the motion until the bed starts to creak from their movements, he pistons in and out of her gone all semblance of gentle or slow, they have teetered into a speed that can only be defined as “break neck” and she feels her body sliding up the mattress as he pounds into her over and over again, she latches onto his neck eager to leave a branding mark on him and he groans at the suction, grinding harder into her and gripping her ass to force her to meet his vicious thrusts. 

Absently she feels him peeling her bra from her body, the only remaining item of clothing that has survived their coupling and she knows exactly when he sees the scar. The grotesque knitting of skin that had left a permanent scar on her shoulder, she almost covers it up but when she peels her eyes open he is staring at her mesmerized. 

“Don’t look.” 

He leans down to kiss it, the softest more precious kiss she has ever received in her life. 

He peppers more kisses all over, then strokes at it with a single finger. 

“I should have realized, this was your confession. I was an idiot. I will never be that stupid again, I love you so much. I would do anything for you. Anything.” 

He puts her legs on her shoulder, nearly bending her in half before resuming his thrusts but they are less frenzied now, it feels like lovemaking. Her eyes prickle when he kisses her scar with every downward thrust, whispering, “Beautiful, so beautiful. Every inch of you.” 

She cries out. 

With every thrust he kisses her scar, making her feel lightheaded and naked. 

When he moves them into a new position, her back to his front giving him better access to her scar, she loses herself as he whispers sweet nothings into her ears and litters the spot with warm kisses. 

She falls off the edge with his lips on her scar and him deep inside her, warm bursts filling her up before leaking out onto the bed sheets. 

“Today’s our last day.” 

Waking up next to him is torture, she tries not to ingrain that in her mind but it’s too late it’s already there. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes at her words and then nods solemnly in agreement. 

“Yes for this visit. But I’ll always come back for you.” 

She smiles brightly, “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” 

They don’t leave the bed except to get breakfast and that ends with her laid across the kitchen table getting taken from behind after teasing him. He can’t seem to keep his hands off her new hair, twisting the short strands in his hands and yanking on them. She catches him looking at her heatedly more than once. 

Then they wind up in the shower, trying to clean up and getting dirtier instead, his hands tight in her hair and around her waist as he hoists her up to pound her into the wall. Making up for lost time. 

They get messages from their entire family, Vincenzo showing her a message from Han Seo asking if he’s going to be an uncle soon. She promises to embarrass him in front of Miri very, very soon. 

Both pretend they don’t feel the day fading away, bringing them closer to their goodbye. 

Tomorrow he will be gone again, but there’s no guessing now. She knows what she means to him now and that’s more than enough. 

She wakes up to an empty bed and a ticket to Malta, the ball is in her court. 

[suchalonelysunflower]

Searching Clearer Skies

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 1

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Safe and sound at the Crimson Islands, Y/N and Calum adjust to their new life

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Violence. Blood. Murder. Guilt. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 8K

Author’s Note: My babes are here! I would love to know your thoughts for this 🥺Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and likes are super important and they help me a lot 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue

The whinny of the horse echoed throughout the woods as the horseshoes crashed against the mud, slipping a few times on its steps but still standing tall as the race continued, encouraged by its rider.

The storm was strong and merciless, dark clouds hovering over the sky crashing one against the other and creating thunders that lasted for more than a minute. The winds whistled threats as the raindrops soaked the ground violently, flooding the path. One wrong move and everything could be lost for those who wander under this storm, but only madmen are capable of doing it.

But Calum was not a madman, he was desperate. His heart beat fast as he hunched over the horse, commanding him to go faster and faster into the darkness. His clothes were soaked and his eyelashes were glued together due to the raindrops that cut through his body like a knife, making it impossible for him to see past the head of the horse.

Lightning crashed, the thunder roared and still, they weren’t as loud as his voice calling his beloved’s name.

He went wherever his heart would tell him to, no second-guessing as he jumped over the fallen carcass of trees that were hit by the wild winds that were blowing, but his determination allowed him to stay put, never once failing to catch himself back in the moment, running faster and faster hoping to get there in time.

“Y/N!” He shouted above the thunder, commanding the horse to take a sharp left as a flash of lightning came crashing down near them.

How did they end up there? So far away and without each other. What made them torn apart? Yet, none of those questions could be answered right now. There was no point to them. Not when she was gone and he couldn’t find her.

The woods seem to expand with every gallop, just a sea of darkness in front of him, an endless void of a starless night, and an unreachable ending as his hopes were starting to falter.

“Y/N!” He cried, voice already hoarse and strained. The strings of his heart almost breaking to the point of feeling nothing but pain every time silence would answer him “Y/N!”

“Calum!”

It was faint, almost inaudible over the rain. Anyone could think that it was just a simple and cruel trick of the mind. But only Calum could recognize that voice anywhere; it was his love and she was in danger.

“Calum!”

She called again, but from where? The echo made it seem like she was everywhere and nowhere at once. Almost as if she was some kind of bird in which his name was cursed to be her calling, always chasing but never catching it.

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

He ran, as far as the horse’s legs would let him as he encouraged the animal to go even faster as they went against the storm walking right into it as he kept calling her name. Knowing that even if she was in the middle of a hurricane, he would never stop until he found her.

“You’re running out of time, boy” A sinister voice accompanied by her cries mixed with the thunder echoed through the woods, but for Calum, it felt almost as if they were whispered in his ear.

The stable lad tightened his grip on the reins and commanded the stallion to go faster “Y/N!”

But he hears nothing but cries. Earth Shattering screams bleed into his head, suffocating him as he cried for her, praying to every deity that was still loyal to them that she would be okay.

“Calum!” It seemed so far, but so close at the same time “Calum!” So he kept going.

Trees would fall; lightning would scatter and the thunder roared, and he ignored all of them. He just needed to get to her even if the world around him seemed to fade into nothingness.

Y/N’s screams seemed to get louder and louder until suddenly, they disappeared.

Calum pulled on the reins, making everything but the rain stop. His heavy breathing was ringing in his ears as he looked around, wondering where she went. But it wasn’t until a ray of lightning hit the ground that he saw her.

She was standing at the edge of a cliff with a tear-stained face, looking straight at him but not moving an inch. Her hair clung to her face as the rain-soaked her entire figure, making her white dress become nothing but a rag.

“Cal…” She whispered, but he still heard it loud and clear.

He jumped off the horse the moment he saw her, an immense sense of relief and happiness came over him as he started to run, calling out for her as the moon calls her stars.

But then, he saw it. A silver light shine pressed against her neck; only a glimpse, only a second, but enough to make him stop in his tracks, just a few meters far from her.

“Glad to know that you have some common sense, boy” The sinister voice called again, but this time Calum knew exactly who it was.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, King Richard made his appearance, wrapping a leather-gloved hand over Y/N’s throat, making her head fall back onto his shoulders as he squeezed just enough to make tears spill from her face.

A condescending, pleased smirk came to his face, watching with red-blooded eyes how she succumbed to his strength. Then, he slowly turned to Calum, showing all of his teeth in a wicked smile.

“So glad you could make it,” He said, pressing the tip of the knife into her skin “I was starting to think you would never find us, and what’s the fun in that?”

“Let her go” Calum nearly growled, taking a step closer to them but stopping the moment Richard pressed the knife harder, drawing a drop of blood from her neck.

Richard smiled “You’re smart. Good At least I know my daughter has a bit of sense when it comes to her choosing a partner” He sneered

“Let. Her. Go” Calum repeated, clenching his fists at his sides and with his heart beating as fast as the rainfall “She’s got nothing to do with this”

“She has everything to do with this!” Richard barked, moving the grip from her neck into her arms and digging his fingers into her skin, leaving marks that might stay there for days.

“Father, please-” Y/N begged in between coughs for air “Leave him be”

“Oh, I will dear. But I must teach this boy a lesson first”

Calum set his desperate eyes on her, unable to hide the fear in them as he watched how she tried to regain her breathing without any sudden moves that could get her closer to the knife.

“Y/N-”

“Cal, please go” She begged, pressing her lips into a thin line to try and drown the pain and the fear “He can’t hurt you here”

He shook his head “I’m not leaving without you”

“How touching”

Calum’s eyes became hard as stone as he turned to the King, standing straighter despite the rain’s attempt to bring him down with them.

“Leave her alone,” He said coldly, taking one step closer “Or I promise you, your head will roll down that cliff with the scum where you belong”

The King just laughed hysterically, closing his eyes as he shook his head slowly “You really think you can threaten me? Me?! I am your King!”

“Calum…”

“You are nothing but a fake! A coward who hides behind his daughter’s body. If you’re so valiant, come and face me like a man”

Richard smiled, almost as if he was waiting for it.

“Oh, Calum, Calum… That’s where you’re wrong” He said, eyes darkening as his smile widened “I’m not a man. I’m a King”

And all that Calum could hear afterward was the sound of the knife slashing her throat.

*

He jolted awake with beams of sweat running down his forehead, his whole body was drenched in sweat which made him think he was back in the woods. But Calum wouldn’t, Calum couldn’t because the woods were at home in RoseWood and there were no woods in the Isles.

His brown eyes quickly landed on his side, finally being able to breathe with some sort of relief the moment he saw her sleeping there: His wife.

Y/N had her face pressed into the pillow, shifting slightly and mumbling something in her dream when his hand came to brush some of her hair that had fallen into her face, covering her beauty from him. Calum watched her sleep for a few minutes, thanking every god there is for allowing him to live this moment, even if it was just for a few more hours before they have to wake up. He just wished she could sleep peacefully tonight, no nightmares.

Outside the window it was still raining, it hasn’t stopped since they came here almost six months ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw the sun, but he knew he always felt warm with her by his side. And she was by his side, and that was the most important thing. She was there with him, alive and well and still in love with him. He could go a lifetime without sunshine if it meant to keep her safe.

Thunders were roaring and he was thankful that Y/N was a heavy sleeper, he even was a little jealous because he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep again. He never does after those kinds of nightmares.

The memory of that afternoon in the woods still haunts him. The screams the Princess let out when she begged her father for mercy still live in his head, reminding him that this was all his fault. He could still hear her call his name; feel her cling into his aching body on the damped, humid cells of the dungeon; and, even if she won’t admit it, he still remembers the sadness in her eyes when they had to leave home because “home” was not safe enough. And he can’t help but to feel guilty.

Calum rose from their bed, wiping a damped cloth over his face as he walked up to the window, hoping that the rain could wash out his fears and bring him back to the present. He leaned over, pressing his forearm to the glass as he watched the clouds crash against one another, counting the seconds after the lightning to hear its sounds.

He doesn’t know how much time he stayed there, maybe a few minutes, maybe hours. What he knows is that he could never truly relax until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, smiling when he noticed a gold wedding band adorning one of the fingers.

“It’s cold without you there” She mumbled, pressing her cheek against his back.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, placing his hands on top of hers.

“Hmm, you knew and you still left” Y/N reprimanded, making him chuckle as he lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm “It was another nightmare, wasn’t it?”

“It’s always the same, at least the ending is”

“You could talk to me, you know? Maybe it could help” She offered, slipping into his arms and ending up in front of him, doe eyes looking straight at him “I hate to see you so caught up in there,” Her hands flew to either side of his face, cupping it delicately “Just let me in, let me help you”

Calum smiled softly “You’re too kind, my rose. But this is not a burden I’d want you to carry. It is only mine to bear”

“It doesn’t have to be,” She said. “You’ve helped me carry my burden for years, creating a safe space with you while my nightmare was just beginning. You’ve helped me so much, Cal. Why can’t you let me do the same?”

“Because I’m selfish,” He smiled “And besides, now it’s not a time to talk about nightmares”

“Why?”

“Cause the sun’s coming up”

Y/N gasped and turned around, but was only met with cloudy skies and a light drizzle. Then, she turned around with a frown only to find Calum trying not to smile.

“That’s not funny,” She said, punching him lightly on the chest. “Besides, how do you know it’s morning already? You can’t see anything past those clouds and the fog”

“Take the word from a man who worked his whole life on a field” He laughed, placing one hand at either side of her waist and pulling her closer “And you also look gorgeous in the morning”

Y/N hummed as he kissed her forehead “Didn’t my husband say I look gorgeous every single time of day?”

“Did he?” Calum asked, placing kisses all over her cheeks and down to her jaw and neck “Must be a very observant and smart man”

“Yes,” She let out a breathy giggle, tangling her hands at the back of his head. “But don’t tell him, or his ego would be unstoppable…” She sighed when his lips met the spot behind her ear, curling her fingers but finding nothing to hold on to “God, I miss your curls”

“They’ll grow back” He whispered in her ear, biting it slightly as his hands traveled to the back of her thighs, picking her up with ease without ever stopping the work of his mouth on her skin.

“Cal…” She breathed, “Take me to bed”

“As you wish”

He pulled away just in time for her hand to cup his cheek, bringing him closer as their lips met, carefully savoring their moment as he carried her to bed.

*

Life at the Isles was nothing like in RoseWood, that was for sure.

Thanks to Ashton, Y/N could keep her title as The Princess of Roses, yet the benefits she used to hold at her birthplace did not follow. Here, she was just another member of King Alex’s court and so was Calum and although it was not what they were used to, they managed to adapt pretty quickly.

Early in the mornings, all members of the court were expected to stand in the throne room to receive the King and Queen and discuss what’s been going on with the Kingdom; after that, Y/N and Calum went their separate ways.

The ladies of the court were free to choose any activity or class of their liking, something foreigner to the Princess who's been told all her life what she should do. While the men of the court were sent to train or to their own business to negotiate trades with other kingdoms. When they arrived, Calum offered his service as a Stable Lad, yet that position was already taken and King Alex thought he might work better as an apprentice of the Welder, hence the ring on his wife’s finger and his matching one on his left hand, made out of just for her by his own hands.

Still, life at the Isles was pretty lonely. Words travel fast, especially when a runaway Princess and her new not-Royal husband escape their Kingdom a day before her wedding to a powerful King. And while King Alex was very aware of the situation, the other members of the court had their own ideas, and so, rumors started to spread.

But neither Calum nor Y/N paid much attention to them. They knew their story, they knew what they went through. So the words of strangers did not damage them but made them stronger, ready to prove them wrong when they were underestimated. And, after all, they had each other and they were safe, that was the only thing that mattered to them.

“Do you think he’ll notice we were late?” Y/N asked as she hurried her steps through the stone-floored hallway

“There is still time,” Calum assured her “Although we might not make it to our places in time”

“And surely Lady Johana will have something to say about it” She rolled her eyes “I can’t believe you convinced me to stay in bed a little longer than we’re used to”

Calum chuckled “It’s not like you needed much convincing anyway, Rose. After all, dear wife, who was the one that couldn’t keep her hands off-“

“Say another word and I’ll tell Lord Gillian how interested you are in learning ancient geology” She challenged with a smile, the same one she held every time she playfully threatened him since they were children.

Calum just rolled his eyes and grabbed Y/N by the waist, sweeping her off her feet and pulling her closer to him as she squealed, trying to get away from his grasp as he started to tickle her.

“Cal! Noooo” She tried to hold her laughter as he hid his face on her neck, putting her down and wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her closer “You’re a menace”

“Yet, you still chose to marry me” He kissed her cheek “So I’m your menace, no one else’s”

“Hmm, you better” She pecked his lips “But my menace of a husband is going to make us late”

Y/N slid from his grasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her as they made their way to the throne room and take the small space in the corner, earning a few glances from the not-so-friendly members of the court.

King Alex’s throne room was not as big as the one in RoseWood, nor as brightly lit. But it was enough to hold all 30 members of the court, the monarchs, their pets, and a few servants who always stayed put in case they were needed.

All members of the court stood in a semi-circle around the two throne chairs, all of them with an assigned space where they would wait until the King or Queen asked them something, or until the meeting was over.

It was weird for the couple to see such order and respect for each individual, given that Y/N’s father was not one to take advice from people and just act out of his own thoughts and ideas, no matter how cruel or crazy they might be. But King Alex was always fair, a bit eccentric and sometimes narcissistic, but always fair and respectful towards others; not to mention a good friend for the RoseWood’s Prince, taking Y/N and Calum in and promising them nothing but safety in his realm.

He was a respected man, a noble, humble King that carried no weapons in his court because his trust was always in his friends. Yet, today when the servants opened the door for him and the Queen, it was the frown set upon his face that made all conversations die as he made his way to his throne.

King Alex’s eyes surveyed the room, biting the inside of his cheek lightly as he laid his eyes on the RoseWood bound couple before sitting down.

“Sir Steriff!” The King called, making everyone in the room shake at the sudden boom of his voice.

“Y-yes, your Majesty?” Poor Sir Cleamont Steriff stuttered, but King Alex just rolled his eyes.

“How’s the situation down at the bay? Sources say that there’s a clear decline in the production”

The questions were not as serious or as important as his voice made them out to be. Y/N could recognize that tone of hidden anger, it was the same tone her father used when he had to speak to her in a public setting, and the same one Ashton used when something about his royal duties as an heir bothered him. She knew Calum could recognize that too, so when her eyes met his she found the same comforting look he used to give her, as well as a tug on her hand for reassurance.

It was in the small moments where Y/N found herself back in RoseWood; a simple whisper or ill-intentioned look brought back the memory of her father; the sound of crystal shattering or the sound of a whip or a slap; even the shadows that surrounded the palace made her wary of what may hide inside them, wondering if there could ever be free of the crows and her father’s power over her.

Because even when they were kingdoms away, a father’s harm can still hurt and the memories may never be forgotten as long as they shall live, but they’ll live differently in a separate perspective where one is a villain and the other one is smiling over that fact. Y/N was still learning to live with that darkness, make it part of herself so she could let go and grow with it and never let it win.

Luckily for her, Calum was willing to do anything and everything to make sure that she was safe in every single sense of the word. For Calum has had his own share of darkness, the moments that haunt him at night even though the proof of their victory is still the beating of their hearts. It was the demons they had to face, but they would never do it on their own, not as long as their hands are intertwined and their love lives in their hearts.

“I would like to request an audience with Princess Y/N and Sir Hood” Alex’s voice made them go back to reality, feeling all eyes on them as they solemnly nod and bow “Alone. You are all dismissed”

The whispers were louder this time. A handful of eyes looking in their direction going from pitiful to curious to confused. The King rarely asked for private audiences, so no one really knew if they should feel grateful or jealous at the couple’s fate.

Once the room got cleared out except for The King and Queen, a few servants, and Calum and Y/N, King Alex finally let out a sigh, leaning his back against the throne and pinching the skin right between his eyes.

“Your Majesty,” The two of them said in unison as they approached the throne, bowing.

“Rise,” King Alex commanded. “I assume the two of you would not hide something from me after I gave you shelter under my kingdom, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty” Calum answered, not even batting an eye “We could never hide something from you”

“You’ve been so good to us,” Y/N added, a kind smile playing on her lips as she looked between the monarchs “We owe you two so much for all your kindness and understanding. We might never be able to repay it”

“There is no need for a settlement of debt” The Queen smiled, placing her hand over her husband’s “And we have no doubts about your intentions in our kingdom, knowing how difficult it was for you to get out of RoseWood. But-”

“But there’s been some unsettling news that traveled all the way overseas” The King finished “And any information you have about it would be useful for us”

“If we can ease Your Majesty’s mind with something, then we’ll do our best for it to be so,” Calum said with a nod, standing straighter and looking directly at the King so he knew he wasn’t lying.

“There is a rumor running around,” The King of the Isles said gravely “That the King of Roses has an army ready for battle and that he wants to go to war with all the nearby Kingdoms who oppose him”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat “It can’t be”

“It is said that other kingdoms have started to revoke their promises to RoseWood until a true leader comes along and that Richard is not happy about it. Would you happen to know anything that could confirm or deny this rumor?”

“I’m afraid we possess no such information, Your Majesty” Calum said, practically ripping the words out of Y/N's Mouth even though she was too frightened to even speak “The last time we heard news about King Richard was that he lost all support from The Vail when King Luke swore allegiance to his son, Prince Ashton. Maybe the other kingdoms got winds about the deal and did the same”

“And my father does not have an army,” Y/N added, hands shaking at the memories “He offered to marry me to King Luke to gain the most powerful army with the warriors of The Vail since RoseWood’s soldiers could not face so many kingdoms at once. The last news we got was from one of King Luke’s letters saying that my father was in shambles when it came to political power, and do believe me Your Majesty when I say that King Richard is not a strong man to pick himself up on his own”

King Alex’s hummed, seemingly pleased with the answers “I know your loyalties lie with the right side of the story,” He said, making the two of them let out a breath of relief “But truth is that you’ve been away from home for far too long to know if things have indeed changed in the months you’ve been here in Crimson Isles. Say, Your Highness, any news from our dear Prince?”

Y/N visibly tensed and her hand reached for Calum’s in an unconscious and instant move at the mention of her brother's name, the only one who’s been consuming her thoughts with worry for she didn’t know anything about him since they went away.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” She said, clearing her throat “Although I’m hopeful that by the next shipping news will come from RoseWood”

“Let us pray it’ll be that way” The Queen answered with an understanding smile “Our dear Prince Ashton must be very busy as always, but he will not forget us”

“Captain Merrick will come in a fortnight” King Alex added “I’ll request an audience with him and with the two of you. My Lord,” He said, referring to Calum who nodded “I take your lessons are going well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty”

“And your lessons, Your Highness? Is Maester Lorcas treating you well?”

Y/N smiled with ease “I’m learning a lot from the Maester, it’s an honor to be his pupil and I’m thankful for the opportunity”

King Alex smiled as well, pleased that the two of them were content in his court “And we are grateful that you’re here and safe. Now, you may go on with your day. You’re dismissed, if anything new comes regarding King Richard, I’ll let you know”

Calum and Y/N thanked the King and Queen with a bow before exiting the throne room. They walked a few meters, making sure no one was following them when Calum pulled her to a secluded hallway, finally letting out their worried breaths as they stood one in front of the other.

“Calum…” She said, eyes wide open with a threat of tears gathering at the corners.

“It’s okay, Rose,” He said, cupping her cheek with his palm, masking his own worry. “It’s just a rumor. We both know your father cannot do much with Asthon there, and even if he sent him to another political trip, the army is not strong, not under his command”

He was trying to be reasonable. RoseWood’s army was good and it could manage in a battle. Yet, with King Richard on the throne the administration of it never really progressed into anything else than a simple guard. They were not equipped for war and it seemed rather impossible for them to become a force to be reckoned with in less than a year.

“But we don’t know where Ashton is!” Y/N whispered, trying to bite her tongue almost as if the blood that might drop from it might keep her grounded “Calum, it’s been months since his last letter and I know my brother. I know he won’t break his promise to write to us; to me. And I can’t shake this feeling that maybe-”

“If anything were to happen we would already be informed” Calum tilted her head so she could look him in the eyes “I’m not disregarding your feelings, my love. But we also try not to draw conclusions too quickly. The weather here might’ve delayed any letters and if Captain Merrick is on his way he might bring news from him. We must remain hopeful, Ashton will be fine”

The stable lad pulled her close, placing a small kiss on her forehead as he felt her shoulders relax into the embrace.

“Do you want me to walk you to the laboratory?” He asked with a small smile, running his hands up and down her arms. Y/N shook her head.

“I’ll be fine, my love, thank you. Thank you for everything”

Calum smiled, cupping her face one more time as he took her in. All of her and her beautiful eyes looking at him, filled with love and comfort, he knew he was right where he was meant to be just by looking into those eyes.

“I love you, my little rose”

“I love you more”

*

The color of the liquid changed from yellow to green inside the little pot as it started to boil, making the Maester gasp as Y/N smiled proudly at her mixture.

“Your Highness! That’s a perfect ointment there!” The old man said, practically jumping with joy as he mixed the spoon with the now gooey product “And on your first try! May the gods bless those hands, Princess. You’re a natural!”

A small scoff was heard around the room, undoubtedly coming from one of the other ladies from the court that also chose to learn more about medicine. Yet, Y/N kept her head held high, as a Princess she was raised to bow to no one that didn’t deserve her respect and she was not going to let some ill-intended comments get to her, not after everything she had to endure from people that were meant to love her.

But that didn’t mean Maester Lorcas would keep the same composure.

“Lady Gillian,” He said, raising one of his white, bushy brows “Care to share with the class what this ointment does? From what I see, you still haven’t finished yours”

Lady Gillian gasped as her cheeks turned beat red, mumbling under her breath: “I did finish mine”

Maester Lorcas hummed with disdain “Can anyone else tell me what is that you’re doing right now? Why is important? Anyone?”

Y/N raised her hand “The ointment is mostly used to treat scars; one needs to scatter it across the damaged tissue every six hours and let it rest on the patient’s sink. If treated immediately, it could potentially erase the scar and prevent further damage and infections. It also works to erase any dark spots of the skin if accompanied by other treatments”

The old Maester smiled and laughed joyfully at her answer “See?!” He asked the other ladies “That’s what happens when you pay attention instead of talking about the latest gossip that everyone already knows on this small Island. You learn. Good job, Your Highness, as usual”

“Just because she’s a princess doesn’t mean she gets special treatment” One of the other ladies scoffed under her breath. Y/N only rolled her eyes and went back to her mixture “She had the perfect life anyway”

“Maybe if you stop whispering about her as if she wasn’t in the same room, you’ll be able to do something more than to waste everyone’s time,” Y/N said, not even turning around as she added a bit more chamomile seeds “I was raised to see honor and value in everything except on empty words and ill thoughts, and to respect every soul as an equal, no matter their background, something that you all lack. But maybe it’s a Princess’ thing and you wouldn’t know about that” She said, finally turning around with an unreadable face “Feel free to keep talking, it’s your right. But it is going to take more than that to try and hurt me. And maybe I could take it more seriously if you say it to my face”

The ladies all snickered and scoffed, lifting their noses and going back to their own pots as they tried and failed to get the recipe right. Y/N turned around, sending a complicit look to the Maester who stood and watched with a proud smile at how those nasty women were put back in their places with such grace.

Still, Y/N could not share the same joy as she sighed, going back to her work without saying another word.

She knew that life at the Isles would be a hard adjustment, but she was doing a great job considering the rumors that surrounded her. From the very first day in court whispers about how she was a runaway bride, breaking a powerful King’s heart as she decided to flee with her secret lover from a much lower social class. Others said she was bewitched; others that she was some kind of witch herself. No one knew about the hell she went through or the pain inside her heart at having to leave her hometown and the only family she loved behind.

Yes, she always dreamt of flying away from home, finding new horizons with Calum by her side. Find the home she never had on RoseWood, to begin with. But the guilt of leaving her beloved brother behind after knowing what her father was capable of; the pain of leaving behind all her mother’s memories; and the undying feeling of knowing something was wrong consumed her every day, wishing she could have more time to say goodbye to the place that saw her become the person she was today, maybe one last goodbye to the tree that saw her love bloom or one last trip to the square town, promising to go back one day when the skies were clearer and the danger was far gone.

She knew that time would come eventually, but without any news from Ashton, those hopes seemed farther and farther away.

“Your Highness?” Maester Lorcas asked, bringing her back from her thoughts “May I have a word?”

Only then did Y/N notice that the lesson was over and they were the only ones in the old lab.

“I must say, Princess, that I am very impressed,” He said, sitting on his chair with some difficulty “Are you sure you’ve never had any experience in the medical field?”

Y/N smiled, looking down as her cheeks were tinted pink “I can’t say I have, Maester. RoseWood didn’t let the royal family ever step foot into the infirmary unless it was an emergency. Fearing we might get sick”

Maester Lorcas laughed, raising his brows “Say, I never took you for one to follow the rules”

“Certainly not,” She laughed as well. “There were… situations in which I had to fend for myself to get an ointment or two without anyone noticing. My husband used to help me get them after I told them which one would be useful and effective, taking the information I stole from the Maesters at the palace”

“Must be a loyal one, that husband of yours”

“I wouldn’t be here without him,” She said, smiling at the memory of Calum helping her heal the wounds her father would give her, stealing from the town’s Maester or directly from the palace with the empty promise of it being the last time he would have to see her in pain because “it won’t happen again, you’ll see” until it happened again “Still, I was always interested in healing. So when King Alex so kindly offered to take these classes, I knew I couldn’t say no and prevent myself from so much knowledge”

“And let’s pray you might never have to use this knowledge if you come back home”

Those words seemed to spark something in her as she raised her gaze to the old Maester who looked at her with crystalized eyes and a knowing, merciful and understanding smile. Almost as if he could see the scars and old bruises that still covered her body. Still, he said nothing and Y/N was thankful for that.

“It’s an honor to have you as a student, Your Highness,” He said “For what its worth, I am glad that you came here”

Y/N pressed her lips in a thin line, nodding lightly before bowing and leaving the room. Feeling somehow validated by a stranger, finally someone she could trust.

*

The evening rain was stronger than this morning’s, still, that didn’t stop Calum from training, nothing did.

He swung the sword with such ease, cutting through the rain in synchronized moves; placing his feet where they were supposed to be; his breathing calm and collected as he raised his elbow to the level of his eyes, ready to strike again against the invisible evil that stood in front of him.

Grunts due to the effort escaped his lips as the rain fell on top of his buzz-shaved head, soaking him completely and making his white shirt cling to his skin, rain, and beads of sweat mixing and falling to the ground. But Calum didn’t care about how tired he might be or who might see him fight the rain. In his head, he could still hear her screams and watch her fall to her death without him being able to do anything about it.

The vivid memory of Y/N’s screams back in the woods; her father’s laughter as he started to hit her, grabbing her by the hair and kicking her sides while she pleaded for mercy on him, pleading with tears in her eyes for his guards not to hurt the man she loved.

All he could see at that moment was her. He did not care about the guards beating him up, if anything he couldn’t feel anything anymore, not while she was in pain, and all because of him. He tried to stand up, oh how many times did he try, but all that got him was mocking laughs from the King and his guards, feeling pathetic as he couldn’t protect her.

The sword made a swoosh sound, cutting his thoughts short as he started to hit the mock doll that they had ready for training. Only a crazy person would be training under the rain; but Calum was not crazy, he was determined. Determined to get those screams out of his head.

When King Alex offered him a job as a welder apprentice he took it with the condition to also have time for training. Y/N asked him why the sudden interest in learning how to fight with a sword, but how could he even explain without bringing her more pain than the one she was already carrying?

For years he stood and watched the mistreatment she suffered at the hands of her father; the abuse and cruelty she went through. Still, she managed to smile and see the beauty in everything, carrying such compassion in her heart and the hope for things to change. He wished he could be better, just like her. And he tried when she begged him to wait for her birthday so they could finally be free… He now knows he should’ve strode into the castle that night and confronted him, consequences be damned, but at least she would’ve been safer.

His heart was beating strongly inside his chest as he closed his eyes and let his instincts guide him on his next movements, imagining that exact moment in the woods and all the things he could’ve done.

Y/N watched with a heavy heart how her husband moved under the rain, hitting the target once, twice, three times before starting again with different moves.

She ponders on how much Calum has changed since they came to the Crimson Isles. He cut his hair short, fearing someone might recognize him upon arrival and bring Richard’s rage upon them; the muscles on his back and arms were more defined, more broadly as he scheduled at least two training sessions every day without missing a single one. But it was in his eyes where she could notice the biggest change, they were still warm and full of love whenever he looked at her, but it was in the moments when he thought she wasn’t looking that got her worried; she could see the storm that was hiding in them, all the thoughts he didn’t share, the pain and cold memories that haunt him.

It was impossible to lie. For Calum, it was impossible to lie to her, even if he was just hiding the truth.

She jumped when the iron sword hit the ground, Calum was still giving his back to her as he crouched to get the bow and arrow that was lying on the ground, moving swiftly towards the Alamy that stood at the other side, shooting arrow after arrow as the muscles on his back tensed.

Her eyes gazed at the sky, getting darker as the storm was getting restless, not thinking twice as she walked towards him, letting the mud cling to her dress as the rain covered her whole.

“It’s late,” She said as Calum hit the target.

“I know,” He answered, grabbing another arrow from the quiver, not even turning around to see her “I’ll be there soon”

“Calum,”

The thunder roared above them, but neither of them even dared to flinch as the arrow hit the target once again.

There were so many things unsaid under the rain, a pang of shared guilt and an indescribable fear, so similar and yet so different at the same time.

“Calum, let’s go to bed” She insisted with a sweet but firm voice “It’s time”

“Just- I need to get this right”

“Why? We are safe here” She put a hand on his shoulder, making him visibly relax “Cal…”

“It’s okay,” He whispered with a sigh, turning to look at her through the raindrops “I’ll be up there soon, my rose. You don’t have to wait out here in the rain”

“You shouldn’t be out here in the rain, my love”

“I want to be ready”

“For what?” She sighed, shaking her head before meeting his gaze once again “Sometimes I wish I could know what you’re thinking, the things you’re not telling me for some reason”

Calum looked at the floor “I don’t think there’s anything you don’t already know, my rose”

She nodded, giving him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes like she used to do. Then, she took a step back but stood still as her eyes never left his.

“Y/N,”

“I’m not letting you be in the rain all on your own, Cal,” She said, squinting her eyes due to the rain.

“You’re going to get sick,” The stable lad argued, but the Princess just shrugged.

“Too bad!” He was about to say something else but she cut him off “We are a team, Calum. Where you go, I go. If you get sick then so will I. You knew that before we married so don’t pretend I’ll leave without my husband”

Calum couldn’t help but smile, even though he tried, but the word “my husband” coming out of her lips still brought butterflies inside of him, reminding him of how lucky he was to be able to call her “his wife”

He knew there was no way to stop her if she wanted to stay. Y/N was never the one who took a no for an answer when her head was stuck on something so firmly, so stubborn yet so kind and loving. Calum could not love her more even if he tried, and he knew she loved him, too. So how not rejoice in that?

“What kind of husband will leave his wife standing in the rain?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“The worst kind, of course,” She smiled, placing her hands on his chest “But mine stays with me, so the debt is paid”

“The other husband should take notes”

“Maybe he should”

They both smiled before Calum wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as she stood on her tiptoes, brushing their lips together as they started to feel warm under the cold storm. Knowing they’ll be alright after all.

*

When the morning came so did the breeze, making Y/N shiver as she nuzzled into Calum’s chest, letting his heartbeat be the melody that will lure her back to sleep. She could feel his strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer as he stirred awake, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Their legs were tangled under the sheets, finding warmth and comfort in each other’s embrace as they didn’t say a word. There was no need to say what they already knew, what they already felt deep inside their hearts. Safe and sound as they let the morning take its time to arrive.

Still, the breeze kept blowing, getting colder each time as it blew through the sails of a ship called the Kaleidoscope where a man stood proudly with a smirk as The Crimson Isles could already be seen standing a few kilometers away.

“My Lord?” The captain of the ship called his attention “We’ll be arriving shortly, just wanted to let you know so you can get your luggage ready”

“Thank you, Captain Merrick” The man smiled, extending his hand, taking the captain to shake “You are so very kind. I’m anxious to go back to the Isles after so many years”

“You said you were traveling a lot?”

“For work, yes”

Merrick hummed, narrowing his eyes “What do you do for a living, my Lord? If you don’t mind me asking”

“Ah, I worked for several Ladies and Lords from different courts around the world” The man smiled “Some easier to work with than others”

“I see,” The captain nodded “Is that where…?” He was pointing to the scar that ran down the mysterious man’s left eye, a mark he seldom saw in travelers.

“This? Got it from an altercation at The Vail. A misunderstanding, you see, people from The Vail are… not as trustworthy as one might think”

The charming smile that man wore could convince anyone of his lies as the captain clearly believed him.

“Haven’t heard from people from The Vail in a while”

“Really?”

“Yes, the last conversation I had with someone with a connection from that place was a Princess and her new husband,” The captain said, trying to sound as vague as possible for the stranger that unbeknown to him was already aware of the story “I heard nothing but good things about their King”

“You might be surprised” The man muttered under his breath “You said you were going to King Alex’s court once we get there, is that correct?”

The captain nodded “King Alex is an old friend, and he requested an audience.”

“Would it be okay if I come along?” The man asked “I want to present my loyalty and service to the crown and I believe it would be comforting to do it in the presence of such a nice acquaintance”

“I don’t see why not. Could you remind me of your name, my Lord? That way I can let the King know we’re on our way”

“Jefferson,” The man said “Bernard Jefferson”

And just like that and with a simple but elaborated lie, the crow’s plan started to take flight.

*

*

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere-de @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura

[imagine-docx]

interested.

Summary: Being best friends with Bucky, he always thinks you’re trying to get with Steve, when in reality, that is far from the truth. [college!chubby!]

Warnings: Swearing.

A/N: helloooo, i know i have been practically dead. but post secondary really ain’t it chief. here’s a small chub buck fic before i go back into the void that is my 3 hour online zoom lectures. - amanda 💛

»»————-　★　————-««

First year religion, with Professor Hill was quite possibly the most boring class to exist, but hey, that’s how you met Bucky Barnes. First year religion was a mandatory course that you had to take for psychology, and Bucky had to take for history. During the first lecture Prof Hill made you turn to the person next to you and discuss ideas, which happened to be Bucky. 

The two of you felt so comfortable with each other, that you were always sitting next to each other during lectures, and eventually becoming the bestest of friends. To the point where you two spent breaks together, Friday nights together, hell he even came to a few of your classes, even though he shouldn’t be there as he wasn’t enrolled in them. 

Even Bucky was surprised at this close friendship. He always had the small thought in the back of his mind saying, “She’s just using you for an easy ninety. Once the semester is over, she’s gone.” But to his surprise, here you were in your fourth year, still as strong as ever. 

He could pinpoint the moment he realized he was in love with his best friend. 

Second year, it was a random party that Thor was holding around early November. You were wearing a basic grey long sleeved shirt, some dark blue ripped jeans, and a pair of heels. You were dancing with Nat and Wanda, and he felt the switch in him flip, and he saw you in an affectionate way.

Needless to say, he left the party and went through a crisis at two am in the back of an Uber, at his new realization. 

Since that day, he kept his feelings to himself. Not even telling his best friend Steve about the feelings he harboured towards you. 

He always felt insecure whenever he was around you. You were always glowing, even when you had no makeup on and were in sweats on the days you had 9 am lectures. You were always this ball of sunshine that anyone would be glad to hang out with. But here he was, stomach protruding over the top of his jeans, sweaters used to hide how thick his arms actually were, and all around embarrassed about the way he looks. You could never possibly like someone like him back.

»»————-　★　————-««

It was the rare Friday night, where the two of you couldn’t meet because you had a gender studies essay to write, and he had an essay due for ancient civilizations. But, of course, the two of you were on FaceTime.

“You going to Thor’s party tomorrow?” He asked, typing in his name and student number.

“Depends, I still have three readings and a discussion post over my head for Drax.” You responded, finishing up the last sentence.

“You should come, you’ve been pulling essays out of your ass since the semester started. You need to have some fun,” Bucky said, studying your face as you yawned.

“Perks of being a social science major,” you responded, making slight adjustments to your essay.

“Please?” He begged, “I need my best friend there.”

“We will see.”

»»————-　★　————-««

God, three years later, and he still didn’t understand how you pulled off every look possible. Last night you were in one of his hoodies, hair greased, and no makeup on. Today you were pulling off a slightly oversized band tee, some ripped jeans, hairstyled and effortless makeup.

“Didn’t expect you to be around here, thought Drax owned you tonight” Bucky jokes.

“Thought about it. But a certain Brooklyn boy talked me into coming. There’s always pulling an all nighter tomorrow night,” you said, taking a drink from your cup.

“Glad to know I am useful.”

The two of you spent a good chunk of time talking by the bar. The two of you didn’t stop until Sam pulled him away for some beer pong. 

You debated going over to your friend group, but from where you were, it looked like they were wasted out of their minds. And talking to them will probably result in them drunkenly saying that you should fess up and admit your crush to Bucky. And knowing your exact luck, he would be around, and that would be a hard hole to dig yourself out of. 

You decided that you were gonna get some peace in the kitchen. You were sitting on one of the counters, hearing drunken screams, while scrolling through Instagram. 

“You know, it would be easy to tell him how you feel,” you look up to match the voice to the person, only to see Steve.

“And I am assuming Nat did some drunk mumbling to you,” you mumbled, looking down into your cup.

“Or anyone with eyes could see the way the two of you look at each other,” Steve said, leaning against the fridge next to the counter you sat on.

You let out a sigh, “He doesn’t see me in that way. I’m just his best friend.”

“He looks at you like you hung every single star in this galaxy. I should know, I was told I look like that when I look at Nat.”

You laughed and punched him in the bicep, “At least the loverboy admits it.”

Bucky was looking for you, passing by the kitchen he saw that you and Steve were smiling, laughing and talking. He never realized how much of a couple the two of you looked like. Absolutely perfect for each other.

He felt nauseous and decided to head home. Of course you wouldn’t like him, you liked guys who were fit, like Steve. An absolute sweetheart, like Steve. Someone who could care for you, like Steve. Steve.

»»————-　★　————-««

The next morning, he saw that you were calling and kept the talking to a minimum, saying he didn’t feel good and hung up.

He needed to get his feelings in check before he exploded. 

From then on, he always scheduled stuff with Steve too. You deserved it.

You deserved happiness, even if it was with Steve and not him. 

He would make coffee dates on campus, and never show up. Or invite you for movie night at the apartment, and at the absolute last second ‘have his shift extended’ at work.

»»————-　★　————-««

At some point, he just started blatantly ignoring you. From phone calls, to texts, to even practically running away from you.

The last straw for you was the day your sociology professor let you go early for the day. And you were already feeling under the weather, so you just decided to head back to your dorm, and spend the rest of your day taking it easy. 

While you were walking down the tunnel from your class, you saw an all familiar head of hair walking in the opposite direction. You shouted his name several times, and practically ran after him. And you knew he saw and heard you, but continued to walk away from you.

You finally stopped, realization hitting you. He doesn’t like you anymore, and you don’t know what you did. You took a deep breath, turned around and walked back to your dorm.

You sat on your bed, confused as to what the fuck you did to him for him to do this. At that point, you gave him the space he wanted. You stopped texting him, calling him, even going over to his apartment.

»»————-　★　————-««

What caused Bucky to do all of this? Two days prior, he finished his contemporary civilizations class and was on his way to the student centre to get something to eat before his colonial encounters class. 

When he walked into the centre, he was greeted with you and Steve sitting at a table, laughing about something, while drinking bubble tea. 

He felt something stab him in the chest. It’s supposed to be him. He’s supposed to be the one taking you out for bubble tea. He’s supposed to be the one making you laugh like that.

It was then he realized, he didn’t set up this meeting. He drew the conclusion, that he pushed the two of you closer together, and that neither of them wanted him to know.

He knew he was acting childish. But he didn’t care.

»»————-　★　————-««

Since the encounter after your sociology class, you haven’t messaged him, called him, or even made the effort to see him. It was starting to bother him. He felt empty.

He missed the random texts he would get from you about something stupid in your readings. Or the ‘I accidentally watched too much Netflix, and my discussion post is due in an hour and I have NOTHING’ texts. Or you randomly calling in the middle of the night asking him if he wanted to meet up for milkshakes. 

All he would see was Instagram stories or posts of you. Whether it was you at a party getting wasted with your friends, or if it was you being cozy and studying, or you and your friends doing late night stupidity. He missed having you around.

Every single thought he has, would be of you. What were you doing? Who were you hanging out with? Did you get enough sleep? Did you eat anything for the day?

He eventually decided to start essays early just so his thoughts weren’t fogged by you.

»»————-　★　————-««

Bucky was wrapping up his notes on his latest reading. As he closed his textbook, he felt something collide with the back of his head. He turned around to see Steve sitting on his bed. “What?”

“Why are you ignoring her?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky turned back around.

“You damn well know what I am talking about. So, answer the question, why are you ignoring her?” Steve asked.

“Why do you care? That’s your girlfriend.” Bucky seethed. 

A laugh erupted from Steve, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Then why do the two of you act like it.” He muttered.

“Because she’s giving me pointers on asking out Nat,” he responded, “I bet you feel so stupid.”

Bucky turned back around in shock, “Wait, you’re not dating her?”

“Never was. It’s cute seeing how jealous you are,” Steve said, getting up, “Go get your girl.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Bucky has never sprinted out of his apartment so fast. He was about to walk up the stairs leading to your dorm, when he was about to open the door, the door opened revealing Carol. “Oh hey Buck. What are you doing here? You know she moved out like last month right?” she asked.

He never realized that you left the dorms, hell he didn’t even know where you were now. “Oh yeah, force of habit.” He nervously laughed.

“Anyways, I’m late for my date. Tell her I said hi!” She said walking off.

»»————-　★　————-««

Bucky returned to the apartment and was pacing around. He didn’t know where you could have gone. Nat and Wanda had no space, so you wouldn’t be there. Your parents were way too far out, and you wouldn’t want to commute all the way back. His mind was running through possibilities. 

Steve and Sam were just looking on at the spiral that was occurring in front of them. “Does he…?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Steve responded.

“Ah.” Sam responded.

“Where could she have gone though? I don’t get it.” Bucky said to himself. 

“Can I tell him?” Steve asked.

“Nah.” Sam said.

“Wait, you guys know where she is? Why don’t you tell me?” Bucky said with despair laced in his voice. 

Sam sighed, “Nat and Wanda.”

And with that Bucky practically sprinted out the door. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Wanda and Nat were out for the night, leaving you in the living room finishing up your essay for sociology. Wrapping it up, you slapped the submit button, and headed for the shower.

Upon getting out and changing into some sweatpants and hoodie, you were contemplating what you wanted to eat. Until you heard a knock on the door, confused, you opened it to Bucky, you were about to close it but he managed to let out a, “Can I talk to you?”

You were about to say, “No.”

But once you heard his voice cracked, when he said, “Please,” your heart broke, and accepted talking to him.

»»————-　★　————-««

The two of you sat on top of the building overlooking the city. Bucky was looking at the view of the city, whereas, you were sitting on the bench. 

He took note that you were shivering, and he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping you up in it. You were trying to shrug it off, when he said, “You’re gonna get sick.” You accepted that he was probably gonna tie you up in it so you don’t take it off, so you kept it on.

“So why did you ignore me?” You said, looking down at your feet.

“I thought you were dating Steve, and I got jealous. I know I pushed the two of you together, but I still couldn’t bear the thought of him being the one dating you.” He muttered, taking a seat next to you.

“Wait, you were jealous? Why?” You asked, confusion laced your voice.

“I really like you, god I’ve liked you for so long and you deserve someone better than me. Someone who’s fitter, someone who’s better looking, someone you would want to be seen with.” He said, looking down at his feet, hair falling into his face.

You pushed the hair out of his face, “No. I deserve someone who is willing to pick me up for burgers and milkshakes at 3 am. I deserve someone who is willing to drop anything they're doing to come and spend time with me. I deserve someone who would respond to my psych readings, even though they aren’t in my program. I deserve you.”

“You like me?” Bucky stammered.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” You asked. “I thought me calling you at three am because I missed you was obvious.

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, kissed your hair before muttering an, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m only accepting your apology under one condition,” you said.

He looked at you with the biggest eyes ever. Ready to do anything you even asked for. “Get bubble tea with me?” You asked.

“How about tomorrow we take a trip out of the city, to a zoo or aquarium, and bubble tea?” He said with pleading eyes.

“Only if it’s a date,” you said smiling at him.

“Anything for you.” he said, finally leaning into kiss you.

[writingwithacupoftea]

The Perfect Birthday Present

Summary: Y/N Shelby’s birthday was fast approaching, and Tommy has no idea what to buy for her. Who would have thought that a night of drunken antics would give him the perfect answer?

Word Count: 2462

Y/B/M = Your birth month

A/N: Is this fic basically a belated birthday present to myself? Yes. Is it completely different to the one I planned? Absolutely 😂 Hope you all love this one as much as I do 💜

Upon Tommy's arrival back to Arrow House, Mary could tell as soon as he stepped out of the car that he was in a foul mood, even by his standards.

He'd been in London for the past week, sorting out some business. That part of the trip had gone well, Tommy had conceded, but the same couldn't be said for the other part of his mission: finding a birthday present for Y/N. In the past the Shelby's had clubbed together to buy presents, however this year Tommy wanted to get Y/N something special that was just from him.  

It was to be a thank you, really, for having put up with his shit for so long, yet never wavering in her loyalty to him. To say that he was supposed to be the one looking after her, for Y/N was his little sister, the roles had definitely been reversed over the last few years: she had helped him through his nightmares and opium addiction, provided him with brutal and blatant honesty (no matter how much he sulked or raged afterwards until he realised that she was right), and had dropped everything to move to Arrow House with him and Charlie after Grace's death.

To say that he was grateful for Y/N would be an understatement.

But seeing as everyone knew that Thomas Shelby was abysmal when it comes to talking about emotions, he wanted to show it in the only way he knew how – spending ridiculous amounts of his money on her.

He had dragged Ada through all of the best shops in London, looking for something spectacular to gift to Y/N. Tommy had ignored Ada's reminders about Y/N's love for simplicity and the little things: in his eyes, Y/N deserved the best that money could buy, so that's what he would get for her.

Yet nothing that they had looked at seemed quite right – it just wasn't Y/N enough. He should've realised then that Ada was right.

So Tommy returned to Warwickshire a day earlier than expected, empty-handed, exhausted and annoyed at himself.  

Curiosity took over, however, upon hearing music echoing through the halls of Arrow House. After following it, even Tommy's seemingly ice-cold heart melted slightly at the sight that greeted him home: Y/N has dug out the old gramophone, which hadn't been used since Grace had died, and she was dancing around the room with a whiskey in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other.  

Tommy smiled softly at the sight of his sister swaying to the music, unaware that she was being watched. She looked young and happy and carefree, a far cry from her usual reserved and guarded self. Tommy forgot about his own troubles just watching her, enjoying seeing Y/N so alive.

But quickly, his mood changed and the smile vanished. Tommy found himself mourning, almost, the life that Y/N should've had, but because of him she could never live. Times like this shouldn't have been a rarity for his little sister: her whole life should have been filled with the unabated joy that exuded from her in this moment. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at every turn, cleared up the mess after each of his mistakes and constantly walked the streets with a target on her back.

Y/N chose this moment to turn around, having noticed that her glass was empty once again, and was momentarily stunned at seeing Tommy. That feeling passed in an instant, however, and she found herself barrelling across the room, throwing herself into her brother's arms. "TOM!" Her delight could be seen from a million miles away.

"You alright?" He rubbed her back gently as they hugged, and he noticed the strong smell of whiskey on her. "How many of those have you had?" Tommy gestured to the empty glass sat on the table, which Y/N was now refilling, along with a second one that she poured for him.

"Only one or two, Tom." Despite her best efforts to look and sound innocent, what Y/N didn't realise was that her flushed cheeks and the devilish glint in her eye gave her away, causing Tommy to smirk in amusement.

The track on the record changed to a lively Charleston, which only sounded vaguely familiar to Tommy's ears, however sparked far more of a reaction from his sister. She gasped loudly and downed her drink in one, slamming the glass down on the table, causing Tommy to raise his eyebrows at her. Y/N had a large smile plastered on her face as she exclaimed "Oh , I love this one!" She ran to turn the volume up, and started dancing once more.

"Won't this wake Charles up?" Tommy wasn't in the mood to deal with the screaming baby, especially if he was already fast asleep.

"Oh no, Tom, he's the reason I got the gramophone out in the first place. What I've discovered over the last few days is that your son adores music." Y/N turned to face Tommy, and adopted the matter-of-fact tone that she used so frequently with him. "A little dance to something upbeat to tire him out, then you put something gentler on and in no time at all he's out like a light."

Tommy felt guilt bubbling up inside of him, replacing his amusement at his younger sister's drunken state. Y/N had managed to find the solution that he had been looking for since Charlie's birth in a matter of days. It showed how little he knew about his own son, and was just another thing Y/N had had to figure out on her own, another problem that she had taken upon herself to solve for him.

Following Tommy's long silence, Y/N looked over at her elder brother, noticing the sad and far-away look on his face, and held out a hand dramatically towards him. "Will you join me, Tom, or have you forgotten how to dance?"

"I'm tired, Y/N/N. Another time, perhaps."

"So you have forgotten."

"Remember who taught you how to dance, sweetheart." His gaze softened as he recalled fond memories of his sister stepping on his toes. "Anyway, I don't think I could keep up with you now I'm older, as you kindly keep reminding me."

Y/N smirked at this. "Yes, Tom, but I'm older as well... that's how age works." She grabbed his hands in hers and started to force him to move his body a little to the music. "Come on, old man, you're not doing anything to help those creaking bones of yours!"

Tommy sighed, realising that he wasn't escaping, and reluctantly started to dance a bit with her. Y/N cackled at how out of practice he was, his movements stiff and face void of emotion, and was determined to get her older brother to loosen up before she went to bed.

***

A couple of hours later, the room was filled with laughter and both siblings had uncontainable smiles on their faces.

Everywhere was a mess. Records were strewn across the table, as they had quickly been through every one and couldn't remember which ones they liked the best; the furniture had been shoved to the side to make more space, with Tommy's suit and tie discarded on the sofa; and empty bottles of alcohol and various glasses were dotted around the room.

It's safe to say that Y/N had succeeded in her mission – Tommy was the happiest that she had seen him in a long time. She wished that this night could last forever, just her and her favourite brother in their own little world, where none of their worries could touch them.

***

The clock on the mantlepiece would have told Tommy that it was now the early hours of the morning, but he paid no attention to it

A slower tune played as the brother and sister swayed together in the middle of the room. Y/N was half-asleep, exhaustion having taken hold as her body caught up with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. It was rare for her to spend so much time with Tommy these days, despite having moved into his home, and she refused to waste one second of it while he was in the right mood.

As for Tommy himself, he was thinking; not at the fast-pace at which his thoughts usually raced, but just thinking. Well, more reminiscing. He hadn't spent a night like this since before the war; in fact he hadn't come close to feeling this free and at peace since before the war. Even when Grace was still here, his mind was more often than not occupied by business.

He thought about the not so little girl wrapped safely in his arms. Placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, he wondered ‘When did she become so grown up? Where did the time go?’

Breaking the quiet between them, Tommy only just heard his sister’s drunken mumbles of “This is the best birthday present ever,” and felt his heart melt even more.

He observed the contented smile that rested on his sister’s face and realised that Ada was right about Y/N: she lived for the special little things in life, she lived for family and for love, not money and jewels.  

Y/N lived for moments like this… and, just like that, Tommy knew what the perfect present would be.

***

Two days later, and it was Y/N’s birthday.  

Since it was a Sunday, all that she had wanted to do to celebrate was to have a big lunch with all of her family. So, the whole Shelby clan, spouses and children included, piled into Arrow House for one very chaotic afternoon.

Y/N couldn't have been happier with how the day turned out. Arguments were kept to a minimum (but Y/N secretly enjoyed the slight bickering that inevitably occurred), she was able to play with all of her nieces and nephews in the garden to her heart's content, and the whole of Arrow House had a buzz about it.

Even Tommy didn't seem to be as grumpy and pre-occupied as usual. Something had changed in her brother since that drunken night, and Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. But it was a change for the better, so she wasn't going to complain or question it. Despite her longing for a night like that again, she knew that it was an unrealistic dream: Tommy had far too much on his plate nowadays, even if Y/N thought that it would do him the world of good to let go every now and again. And, Y/N admitted to herself, she had missed her big brother much more than she realised.

But Y/N didn't dwell on that for too long, knowing that she'd miss out on things if she spent too long in her own head (such as John, who had just fallen out of a tree in an attempt to beat his own children in climbing it).

***

It was dusk before the family left, and as much as it was one of the best birthdays that Y/N could remember, she was glad for the quiet and a bit of time to herself.

After eating some more birthday cake and having a cup of tea on the bench in the garden, watching as the stars gradually appeared in the Y/B/M sky, Y/N retreated back inside having discovered that it was nearly midnight.  

Mary informed her that her brother had already gone up to bed for the night. On any other day, Y/N would have been surprised at this bit of news, knowing how late Tommy normally stayed up to work; but her family was exhausting when they were all together for half an hour, never mind half a day, so she quietly padded up the stairs to do the same.

Her attention was immediately drawn to a large box that rested on her bed the moment that she entered her room. Y/N would’ve been suspicious if it wasn’t for the note that sat on top of it:

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.

Love,

Tommy x”

Excitement and intrigue building up inside of her rapidly, she untied the messy bow (Tommy had clearly tried his best) and lifted the lid. Inside she found four new records and two bottles of whiskey. For a moment she was confused, but then she found a second note:

“For the next time…

T x”

Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion and tears began to line her eyes as she smiled.

She threw on her nightdress and wandered down the hall to her brother’s bedroom. Knocking gently, she pushed the door open slightly, just enough to stick her head around it. Tommy’s crystal blue eyes locked with hers and she suddenly found herself wondering why she was there at all: she and Tommy were both awful at things like this (when then were sober, anyway). There was a reason why he left the present somewhere that she would find it by herself, rather than giving it to her himself.

Suddenly feeling awkward, Y/N smiled slightly and nodded, not knowing what to say to her brother. As she began to close the door again, Y/N heard a slight chuckle from inside the room and Tommy softly called her name.

She shuffled back into the room, looking at anything but her brother sat on the bed. "I know it's late, but I just wanted to say -" But she was unable to finish that important sentence, a loud, long yawn having escaped her.

When she opened her eyes again, Y/N saw, to her surprise, an amused smile playing on Tommy's lips. He pulled back the covers on the other side of his grand bed, and raised his eyebrows, silently posing a question that he hadn't asked for a long time.  

In recent years, Tommy hadn't been overly affectionate: Y/N guessed that it was just another side effect of the war. So, when the opportunity arose for Y/N to get a hug from her brother (who used to give the best hugs, not that she'd ever tell her other family members), she would never refuse.

She half-ran over to the bed and snuggled under the duvet before Tommy could change his mind. Cuddling into his side and letting the warmth envelope her, the siblings lay there in silence for a while, perfectly content.

As Y/N's eyelids began to flutter shut, she mumbled into her brother's chest a soft "Thank you, Tom," that he only just caught.

Tommy tightened his arms around his Y/N's frame in response and pressed a kiss to her hair. He turned out the light next to him as he felt his little sister's breaths even out, and whispered so that no one else could hear: "No, darling, thank you."

[jadelotusflower]

It’s Cold in that Fridge: The Case of Nakari Kelen

Since The Case of Mara Jade has been doing the rounds again, I’ve finally gone back to this post that has been sitting in my drafts for literally years. So let’s honour this absolute badass who deserved better:

Once upon a time, the Star Wars universe was but six films (and a tv series) in the story of the Skywalker family. But beyond George Lucas’ story was an absolute boatload of books, comics, games, and other materials that made up the Expanded Universe. When Disney purchased Lucasfilm and the rights to the Star Wars saga, everything in this universe was decanonised and deemed “Legends” - some aspects of this universe were retained or re-purposed, others sit in Disney’s figurative vault and will likely never see the light of day (and seeing how the ST turned out, maybe that’s for the best).

But this transition between Legends canon and Disney canon was not so simple, because the nature of publishing meant that there were novels approved during the time of Legends canon that would be released in the time of Disney canon. In particular, there had been the planned trilogy “Empire and Rebellion”, set between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, with each novel from the perspective of one of The Big Three.  

Razor’s Edge (Leia) and Honor Among Thieves (Han) were released prior to the Great Canon Split of 2014.  But while the Luke-centric novel had been planned, it was not due to be released until well after the Split. So Heir to the Jedi (so called as an homage to the Legends progenitor Heir to the Empire) became one of the first books of the Disney canon.

What does this background have to do with Nakari Kelen?  Perhaps nothing, but I do wonder how the writing process was affected by the shift from Legends to Disney - was the novel a relic of the old EU with any reference the LFL storygroup didn’t like excised during editing, or was it a trendsetter for the new EU, a Sign of Things to Come?  

The most salient point being, of course, that Nakari Kelen - like so many love interests before her - was not allowed to go along her merry way at the conclusion of the novel, but was shoved into the fridge.

If there was one constant of the Legends EU, it was that Luke Skywalker’s love interests couldn’t catch a break. Mara Jade naturally lasted the longest relationship-wise, with almost twenty years of marriage to Luke before some bright spark decided she had to go (as per the aforementioned case study). But before Mara there was Jem, Shira Brie, and Gaeriel Captison (who came close to escaping the curse), and in the Legacy of the Force series they brought back sole survivors Akanah and Callista, only to kill them off for good too (and rather brutally, if I may add).

So perhaps when Kevin Hearne began writing HttJ within the confines of the Legends continuity, he was merely sticking to the status quo, or perhaps once subsumed by Disney they needed to make sure Luke's slate was clean (so to speak).  And I can’t put all the blame on Hearne since I don’t know whether it was his idea, or LFL mandated - but regardless it was a poor decision.

The root cause of fridging, imo, is limited imagination.  How best to cause your male protagonist pain if not kill off someone they love, or at least have strong feelings for? The answer is of course, easily. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The Luke Skywalker of HttJ is fresh from his victory in ANH, a lieutenant in the Rebellion: young, not dumb, and full of...

Nakari Kalen is an absolute Queen a civilian volunteer and crack-shot sniper who loans her ship Desert Jewel to the Alliance. Luke is immediately attracted to her, they bond over a mutual love of fast ships and leaving behind desert home planets, and engage in the inexpert flirting of two nineteen year olds while also risking their lives several times over.

I want to make it clear: I actually really like this book. It's a breezy read, almost serialised as The Early Adventures of Luke Skywalker, and is ofttimes genuinely funny. And credit where it’s due to Hearne, many of of the supporting roles in the novel are female. Other than Nakari, there's Soonta, the Rodian who gives Luke her uncle’s lightsaber, Sakhet the Kupohan spy, and the Givin cryptographer/math genius Drusil Bephorin. In a genre where male characters are often the default for these kind of roles, it was nice to see, but makes the regressive fridging of Nakari even more egregious.

Luke and Nakari make a good team fighting brain-sucking monsters and Imperials, but more importantly they have fun together - she encourages him to work on his Force skills, and he successfully moves objects with his mind for the first time (leading to Nakari adorably dub him "a little noddle scooter"). It's a very sweet, if brief, relationship, and a respite from the danger of the mission. They spend the night together (leaving the reader to decide exactly what happened behind closed doors), and share a kiss before splitting up to try and escape bounty hunters. No prizes for guessing what happens to Nakari immediately after she received the Skywalker Kiss of Death.

I assume there were two motivating factors for why Hearne and/or LFL couldn't let Nakari live:

1. If she survived, fans would wonder why she doesn't appear in ESB/subsequent material.

I recall this bandied about on forums back at the time of the book's release, and to that I say - so what? Fans are always going to wonder, and try to paper over the gaps in canon, to make up their own headcanons to explain any any perceived inconsistencies. It's certainly no reason to kill someone off.

It is in fact possible for two young people to have a romance that just fizzles, or doesn’t work out for whatever reason - it should not require great maneuvering or explanation. If Nakari doesn’t show up in the next book in the timeline, what about it? The reader is smart enough to assume she and Luke broke up, decided to just remain friends, whatever. But it seems that the only way for a female character to exit stage left is for her to die, which is bullshit.

And actually, there's no reason why she couldn't have shown up again. ESB and RoTJ cover a month and a few days, respectively, of Luke's life - just because there was no mention of Nakari doesn't mean she didn't exist at that time, whether or not she and Luke were an item. She could have made an appearance in a subsequent novel, or Rebels, or the comics - she could have become a recurring character, showing up when the Rebellion needed her, or - heaven forbid - even have her own comic/book/show! Her existence in Star Wars canon didn't need to begin and end with Luke Skywalker, merely to service his plotline and backstory and abandoning the richness of her own.

No, the only reason Nakari had to die was to facilitate this:

It was a blow to the gut, realizing what that sudden absence meant. I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but I had felt Nakari's life snuffed out through the Force, and into that void where she had shone anger rushed in - anger, and a cold sense of raw power and invincibility...I took a step to join in the hunt but stopped, breathing heavily, unaccountably sweating even though I felt so cold inside and the power of the Force roiled within me... I shook with emotion and power, and none of it felt the way the Force had before...I saw what kind of space it was , a black hole that would always be hungry no matter how much I fed it. I might never feel warm again if I didn't get myself under control.

Luke feels the dark side and is tempted by the boost of power it offers him, but immediately identifies it as dangerous and unnatural. I can understand why Hearne wanted to include this - it is a book of firsts after all: Luke's first solo mission, his first time using telekenisis, and ending with story with his first experience of the dark side makes sense. But it wasn't necessary, which leads to:

2. How to push Luke to touch the dark side without killing someone he has romantic feelings for?

Also, obviously, shite of the bull (or nerf, if you prefer). Even if this brush with the dark side was absolutely necessary for the novel's climax, there's any number of ways it could be achieved. At this point, Luke is fresh from losing important people in his life - Owen and Beru, Ben, and Biggs - lumping another death on top of that a narrative trick for Luke to react not only to losing Nakari, but the others as well. But it's cheap, the first card in the deck, and why not show a bit of imagination? Luke is young and inexperienced enough at this point that any number of things could be the catalyst - the whole book he's struggling with his growing powers, why not try and reach too far in the firefight with the bounty hunters, his anger and frustration with himself in not doing enough trigger the dark side temptation? It would work thematically and doesn't involve a fridging that ultimately has very little payoff.

Because Nakari is killed less than ten pages from the end of the book - afterwards Luke grieves, but ultimately chooses to honour her memory and be grateful for what he learned with her, recommitting to becoming a Jedi. It's all very surface level, and once again a female character's death facilitates a male character's development. Was it so imperative that Luke lost someone he cared about as part of this story? Sure, this was a time of galactic civil war, and it's far from unrealistic that these stories have a high body count, but who to make collateral damage remains an authorial choice, and in this case Nakari Kelen was (a) a female character of color, (b) a love interest of the protagonist - not just of this book, but the entire Original Trilogy.

I don't know to what extent (if any) race had to play in the decision. I'm sure there was a segment of the fandom absolutely livid that Luke Skywalker kissed (and maybe had sex with) a black woman. Was her death LFL hedging its bets, or demonstrative of the general lack of attention/respect they show their characters of colour?

In any case this was a chance to stand out from the old EU and it's fridge full of Luke's dead girlfriends, but instead they chose to introduce and kill off Nakari for the sole purpose of Luke's manpain and character development, and that's gross.

And then there's this:

A grisly yet reliable fact about custom bounty hunter ships is that you can always count on them to have body bags stashed somewhere for the easy transport of their kills. They often have built-in refrigerated storage, too.

NAKARI IS KILLED AND LITERALLY STORED IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE I COULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT I WAS READING.

I really hope this was unintentional on Hearne's part, because yikes. He was halfway there, this book was full of interesting female characters who had agency - Drusil in particular was a delight with her super math and inability to understand human interaction. Nakari was full of life and fun - capable but relatable, showing a different side of the Rebellion and those that suffered under the Empire's rule. Fridging her in her first appearance is considerably more vile, because it reduces her to a footnote of Luke's story, a plot device to Help Him Grow, rather than a springboard to tell more of her own story.

Because Nakari was a compelling character ripe for spinoff potential. I would absolutely have read or watched her continued adventures, juggling missions for her father's Biolabs company and trying to aid the Rebellion, shooting her slug rifle and cracking wise, maybe even finding a way to amplify her mother's song Vader's Many Prosthetic Parts to really stick it to the Empire, or try and free the political prisoners on Kessel.

The old EU was made great by allies and enemies of Our Heroes showing up again to help or hinder them, and/or branching out into their own material. We fell in love with them, and followed their stories even as they diverged from the main saga, eager to read more about their lives.

Nakari Kelen never got that chance. In many ways, she exemplified what Disney Star Wars was to become: an exercise in wasted potential.

[gooddaykate]

You Ain’t Woman Enough

Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: just under 4400

Tags: Pining, Fake Dating because Frankie has an annoying coworker, cursing, my roughly unedited terrible writing, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: Okay, y’all. I wrote a thing. It literally would not have been finished without the constant support of @rzrcrst​. I’m just going to put this here and yeet myself into the void. Let me know what you think. Or not, it’s whatever. Gif credit to @pascalplease​ (let me know if you don’t want your gif used, sweetie)

The bar was crowded and loud, but you still heard Frankie’s quiet curse as he pulled his cap further down over his eyes.

“You good, Frankie?” you asked with a nudge of your shoulder.

He huffed and curled in on himself more. “You remember me telling you about that girl I work with? The one who works the gate?”

How could you not? He had complained about Kelly almost as long as you’d known him. 

When Frankie and his baby girl had moved in next door six months ago, you were fast friends. He had moved to the Rockies to be closer to his parents. He got a job at the small airport to fly the puddle jumper planes for the celebrities that came and went in Aspen. It was easy to fall into a camaraderie with him, talking shit about the people who came to play in the ski town you both worked in. It was just the two of them, and it was easy to offer help. Whenever he needed someone to look after his baby, you were the first to step up. He was quiet and kind, and always willing to lend a hand in return. He’d helped fix leaky faucets and a broken water heater. You hadn’t shoveled your own drive since you’d started watching Rosie for him.

You’d lost track of the number of times the two of you had sat in one of your living rooms just talking after Rosie was down for the night. You quickly learned that you could trust each other with the truth, so you shared everything. You talked through your quiet fears together. He knew about your relationship with your family and how you felt you needed to be close enough that they could visit, but far enough that they wouldn’t. You’d learned about his brothers, Pope and Will and Benny, and his time in Delta Force and the ptsd that it had given him. He had held your hand when you told him about the college boyfriend you’d had, the one you still had an open order of protection against. He had told you about how he used to cope with the ptsd, how he’d lost his pilot’s license, and the divorce that came with. You were angry for him, but mostly Rosie, when he told you that her mom had decided she didn’t want anything to do with her, either, and left her at his friend’s place while he was out of the country. On one particularly quiet night, Frankie told you about another brother and a trip to South America and how nothing had gone like it was supposed to.

The two of you were as close as two friends could be. You didn’t have any secrets between you, apart from one. It was easy to fall for Frankie and Rosie both, and you knew you’d keep that to yourself for as long as you knew them.

Kelly was a constant talking point and source of frustration for Frankie. You had never met her, but to hear him talk about her was enough. She  asked him out every time she saw him and constantly touched his arms and back and shoulders. One time she even took his hat off and ran her fingers through his hair. When you asked him why he’d let her do that, he mumbled something about just letting it be and changed the subject. Most often, he would end his rant about her with a ‘this isn’t fucking Wings.’ You’d usually just smile and move on. But Frankie hadn’t talked about Kelly in a couple weeks.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he pointed. “Blonde in the red sweater.”

“Oh, holy hell. That’s Kelly? Does she live in the village?”

“No! She lives down in Aspen.”

You watched her as she scanned the bar, presumably looking for an open spot. Sitting in the darkest corner table would hopefully be your saving grace. When she passed over a couple seats at the bar and a few empty tables, something occurred to you.

“You don’t think she came up this way just to find you, do you?”

“Knowing her, I wouldn’t put it past her. Fuck.” Frankie took a large breath in and started talking. “Look, there’s something I didn’t tell you. I was hoping it’d never come up, but here we are. I got her to stop asking me out a couple weeks ago by saying I had been seeing someone for the last six months. And I may have mentioned it was you because I’ve got pictures with you and it was easy. And I know this sucks because we’re friends and all, but if you could just, I don’t know, hold my hand until she leaves? Please?”

You were stunned silent for a moment, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. Before you could respond, Kelly’s eyes found Frankie and she started making her way over.

“Shit, she’s seen you.”

You leaned in and took his hand. “I’ve got you, Frankie,” you whispered as you brushed a chaste kiss across his cheek. “Whatever you need.”

He raised his desperate eyes to yours in a quiet thanks, and you tore yours away from him to watch Kelly walk to your table. She was conventionally beautiful, with long blonde hair falling in waves down her back. Her jeans were so tight they looked uncomfortable and the red sweater she wore was cut low enough that you knew it was never intended as anything heat retaining.

You turned back to find Frankie’s eyes on you, eyebrows pulled low in concern. Without thinking, you raised your free hand to his face and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows before bringing it back down and cupping his cheek.

“It’ll be fine, Frankie. What’re friends for?”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Kelly had draped herself over him, making you jump and move your hand away from his face.

“Oh my god, Francisco! I didn’t know you’d be here! What a coinkydink!” She gave him an exaggerated wink and moved her body away from him, but kept her hands around his bicep.

His whole body was tense and his tone was clipped when he responded.“Yeah, well, I told you I was getting drinks with my girlfriend tonight, and that’s why I couldn’t go out with you. This is one of very few options, Kelly.”

“Oh, right. Well who’s got little Rosalina tonight if your neighbor is here with you?”

“We got a sitter,” Frankie all but mumbled.

Her eyes widened. “Wow, it’s the royal we, now?” she asked with an air of mocking incredulity.

She still hadn’t looked at you, or even acknowledged that you were there, apart from her emphasis on knowing that you lived next door to him. You gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up.

“Has been for the last couple of months, actually.”

She finally turned to look at you, a purse on her lips and heavy disdain in her eyes. You flashed her a smile and introduced yourself.

She held her hand out loose and palm down, like she expected you to kiss it. “Kelly.”

You gripped her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Oh, I’m well aware. It’s good to put a face to the many stories I’ve heard.”

Kelly dropped your hand and draped herself across Frankie’s shoulder again, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Francisco! You talk about me at home? What does little Rosalina think?”

Frankie was three stages of red and trying to peel her off of himself, but she kept latching on. “Kelly, Rose isn’t even a year, she doesn’t think about you.”

She let him go and pouted, like she was the baby. “But if you talk about me-”

“I don’t talk to my daughter about you.”

You had to cover up your laugh with a startled cough. Kelly’s eyes turned to you as she sat down in the third chair at the table.

“So you’re the girlfriend, then?”

You laughed and squeezed Frankie’s hand. “Yeah, I guess you could call me that. I mean, he certainly does.”

“The prospect of seeing her makes it easy to get up in the morning.” He chuckled. “You know, besides having an infant in the house.”

Kelly hummed and rolled her eyes. “Right. So, Francisco, tell me, why is it just you and little Rosalina?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Kelly, that’s deeply personal and none of your business.”

Frankie brought you entwined hands up to kiss the back of yours. “That’s okay, cariño. I don’t mind.” He put your hands back on the table and turned to Kelly. “Her mom and I were in the process of getting divorced before Rosie was actually born. We just,” he trailed off and looked at you. You gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand for him to continue. “We just weren’t right for each other. About a month after she was born, I took a trip to South America, and when I came back a week later, I found out that she decided she’d rather not be a mom, either. She left Rosie and the completed divorce paperwork with my buddy’s wife and took off. I haven’t actually seen or heard from her, since. After that, it was a stupidly easy decision to move back up here. My parents live in the village, so they could help out with their granddaughter and I’d have a support system that was more than a pair of brothers. One of whom beats people up for a living.”

He shrugged. “It was the best decision I could’ve made.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

He smiled. “I moved back to Colorado and found her.” He squeezed your hand again. “I wasn’t looking for it, but I fell in love again. I was lucky. And I couldn’t be more thankful for that.I love her almost as much as I love my daughter.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you had to remind yourself that this was for show. Obviously Frankie didn’t actually love you, he was just telling Kelly that he did. As far as she knew, you’d been dating for six months. Of course you would have said you loved each other.

You figured that it would be easiest to just give the partial truth, so you smiled. This was the easiest part you would ever have to play. “I’m definitely the lucky one. He moved in next door and it was completely impossible not to fall in love with them. I’m still sure that I’m going to wake up and it will all have been some kind of dream.”

Frankie turned to look at you, and the amount of love you could see in his eyes made you suck in a breath. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”

You knew you had to swallow down the emotion that brought up, but damn, if that didn’t bring butterflies to your stomach. It was just too much, having Frankie talk about your nonexistent romance. The feeling of his hand in yours, every brush of his leg, all the lovely words he used to describe a love you didn’t share. You just needed to get away for a moment.

“You’re the sweetest. Right. Excuse me for a minute.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek, and met Frankie’s eyes with a sad smile and a silent apology.

Once you pushed your way through the mass of people hovered by the bar, you leaned on the counter and looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“What the hell am I doing? Why did I agree to that?” You hung your head low and let out a heavy sigh.

The door opened and the loud sounds from the bar interrupted your thoughts. When you straightened up to leave, you took one last look in the mirror and noticed Kelly standing behind you with her arms folded across her chest. When you made eye contact, a slow smile spread across her face. The look in her eyes made you shiver before you turned to face her.

She took a step closer. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? I know you’re in love with Francisco.”

A startled laugh bubbled up out of your chest. It took a moment for you to respond because you weren’t sure if she was serious. “Of course I’m in love with Frankie. It would be impossible not to be completely in love with him and Rosie, both.”

Kelly raised one eyebrow and smirked before continuing. “Oh, I know that’s true. But I also know that you and Francisco aren’t actually dating. You’re just his neighbor and occasional babysitter. You can drop the act.”

You blinked in surprise, eyebrows shooting up your forehead. “Excuse me?”

“I know Francisco isn’t seeing you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following. How’d you come to that conclusion?”

Her eyes still hadn’t left yours, and it seemed like she wasn’t even blinking. “You know, when Francisco first told me that he was dating you, I was massively jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a huff. “You don’t say.”

She ignored you and kept talking. “But I started watching him. I came up to Snowmass and asked around. I’ve watched the two of you together. I’ve seen you with Rosalina. I know you’re not a couple. I don’t know why Francisco thought he needed to make up some girlfriend and then pawn it off on someone who he clearly has no actual feelings for.”

You were horrified. “You’ve been watching him and Rosie?”

“Oh, I just needed to see who my Francisco was spending his time with. Now that I know that I don’t actually have to worry about him having feelings for you, he can go back to being my Francisco. I can’t believe you’re still carrying a torch for him when he clearly doesn’t care for you.” She backed away and looked down at her fingernails. “I mean, come on, you’ve clearly been in love with him for longer than I’ve been watching.”

Kelly’s face was smug, like she knew she was in your head. But you were focused on the more important part of her little speech.

You started out slow, to make sure she caught that you’d understood her. “So, just to be clear, you’re admitting to actively stalking Francisco Morales and his daughter.”

“What, that’s not-”

“That’s what you’ve just said. You said you started watching him. That you have watched his home, and his daughter, and who they’re spending time with. You’ve asked about him in the town that he lives in. You made a trip out of the way of where you live, just feign accidentally running into him and to corner me. Did you go to his house before you came here?”

“I am not stalking Francisco. That’s not what this is,” she spluttered.

“Oh? Then tell me exactly what this is, Kelly.”

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to come up with something. After a few moments of letting her flounder, she finally stepped forward and pointed her finger in your face.

“We work together! I’m not stalking Francisco! Even if that was true, you have no proof,” she seethed through clenched teeth.

A scary sort of calm washed over you. You had experience here. You could help Frankie and Rosie both.

“Get your finger out of my face, Kelly.” It took her a couple seconds, but she did drop her hand. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead three times.

“How careful were you to stay hidden when you were spying on Frankie’s home, Kelly?”

“That’s- I don’t-”

“That’s okay, Kelly. I have security cameras around my property. And we can certainly find testimony of the people you talked to. And I’m sure the airport staff would vouch for how uncomfortable you make Frankie on a daily basis. It’s easy enough to request a restraining order. Do you suppose that’s enough proof?”

Kelly’s eyes were wide and the fear you could see brought a slow smile to your face.

“We could probably even issue a protective order, since you have actually admitted to me, one of his child’s caregivers, that you’ve been actively stalking her and her father.”

Her eyes were panicked, and before anything else could be said, she was out the door. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter.

“What the fuck.”

A stall opened, and you startled. A young woman stepped out holding her phone. “I recorded that whole conversation. Do you want me to send it to you?”

Your brows furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“I recorded what she was saying. Do you want me to send it to you?”

“Oh, uh,” you ran a hand down your face. “Yes, please. How much did you get?”

Her smile was sheepish when she handed you her phone. “Well, I hit record when she said she knew you were in love with him. I thought it was going to be a drunk girl confrontation that I could laugh about with my friends. Now I’m just kind of glad I’m a nosy bitch.”

You chuckled as you typed your number in. “No kidding. Thank you for having the insight to record, I guess. I don’t know what will come of it, but if he does decide to pursue something, we may need you to give some sort of statement.”

“All good. I figured. Just keep my number for if you need it.” She placed a hand on your shoulder and sent a comforting smile your way before leaving the bathroom.

You took a shaky breath and headed back to your table.

“What the hell did you say to her? She just took her bag and left, didn’t even say bye.”

You sat down and took his hand in yours. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You don’t have to do that anymore, she’s not here.”

“Frankie, what I’m about to say isn’t something nice.”

He interrupted you with a laugh. “I’d be surprised if you did have anything nice to say. She’s a lot.”

With a sigh, you looked down at your hand in his, and brought your free hand up to cover your entwined fingers. “No, Frankie. It’s really not good. Kelly…” you trailed off, unsure whether to sugar coat or just come right out and say it.

“Sweetheart, just talk. It’s me.”

Your eyes met his and you made your decision. “Frankie, Kelly has been stalking you and Rosie.”

The color drained from his face. “No. Kelly’s just a nuisance. She’d never go that far.”

“Frankie, she just cornered me in the bathroom to tell me that she knows we aren’t dating because she’s been watching you. There was another woman in a stall and she recorded it. She’s been watching me with Rosie and asking about you in the village.”

“Oh god, my baby. Would she have hurt my baby?”

His eyes were desperate again, but this time, holding his hand wouldn’t help. “I don’t know, Sweetie. I don’t know. You wait here, and I’ll pay our tab and we can go home so you can hold Rosie. You’ll be able to put your baby to bed and then we can talk about this more, if you want, okay love?”

Frankie’s eyes were glazed over with tears and he looked almost catatonic when you got back to him.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you up so we can start walking home. Just a few minutes longer and you’ll have your baby girl in your arms. It’ll be okay, Frankie. I’ll help you however you need.”

The short walk back to your houses was quiet, your arm around his. Every time you looked at Frankie’s face, you saw the fear in his eyes, and you knew that he was imagining the worst-case scenario when you got home. He was afraid that he was going to walk in and find his daughter missing. A part of you was also afraid you were going to find that.

When you walked into the door to see Taylor sitting on the sofa with Rosie on her lap, you let out a sigh of relief. You could see Frankie visibly relax, his shoulders releasing some of the tension he’d let build up on the walk home.

“Oh, you’re home early. Is everything okay?”

Rosie’s chubby hands were reaching for her father, and he moved to take her into his arms. You sent a subtle shake of your head to her, and she nodded.

“Well, Mr. Morales, she was an absolute delight, as always.”

Frankie only hummed in response, Rosie tucked into the crook of his neck, lightly playing with the curls at his ear.

You gestured over to the door and reached for your wallet. “I don’t know how much he pays you, honey, but this is all the cash I’ve got.”

Taylor looked at you with wide eyes. “I wasn’t even here for an hour, though! You don’t have to do that.”

You put both twenties in her hand and then raised yours in surrender. “Oh, no, shucks, it’s in your possession, now, you can’t give it back.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Okay, then. Thank you.” She turned to where Frankie was standing. “Bye, sweet Rose. Anytime you guys need me, let me know. I just love her to pieces. Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Morales.”

Frankie just nodded his head at her and went back to loving on his daughter.

“Thanks, hon. Have a good night. Drive safe,” you whispered as she walked out of the house. You locked the door behind her and turned back to Frankie. “You want me to hang out here for a bit?”

“Please. I’m going to put her down here in a couple minutes.”

You sat on the couch and tried to busy yourself on your phone, but your eyes kept drifting back to Frankie. He had Rosie resting on his shoulder just quietly rocking her in his arms. Her eyes were falling shut, but was fighting sleep because she’d startle awake every so often. Once she was out, Frankie looked at you. “Okay, I’m going to put her down. I’ll be right back.”

When he came back out to the living room, he sat down next to you on the sofa. “Okay. You said something about a recording?”

“Yeah, there was a girl in one of the stalls. She thought it was going to be something funny she could share with her friends so she started a voice recording.”

“Let’s hear it, I guess.”

You put your hand on his knee. “Frankie, we don’t have to listen to this right now. We can go over this in the morning, if you want. I don’t want you to lose sleep.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m already not going to sleep well. I’d rather just listen now.”

“Okay, sweetie,” you sighed. You opened the text and pressed play.

The tail end of your nervous laugh sounded and your stomach dropped. You’d forgotten that about what else Kelly had said. You just had to hope that Frankie focused on Kelly like you had.

“‘Of course I’m in love with Frankie. It would be impossible not to be completely in love with him and Rosie, both.’”

As Kelly continued talking in the recording, you just watched Frankie’s face. You usually didn’t have a hard time reading him, he was someone who rarely hid his emotions, but right then he just looked impassive.

“‘I mean, come on, you’ve clearly been in love with him for longer than I’ve been watching.’”

You could feel your face heating up.

Frankie reached over and paused the recording. “Is that true?”

You closed your eyes. “Frankie, I-”

“Dulzura, please. You have to know. How could you not?”

You looked into his eyes, but you still couldn’t make out the emotion in them. “Know what, Frankie?”

“Cariño, everything I said tonight,” he trailed off. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you even know how much you mean to me?” he whispered.

“Of course. I help out with Rosie. We’re friends.” Just saying that out loud brought a lump to your throat. There were tears in your eyes threatening to spill, so you looked up toward the ceiling.

Frankie reached out and took your face in his hands, tilting it back down to look at him. A tear fell and he brushed it away with his thumb. “Dulzura, you mean so much more to me than just friends. Everything I said tonight was true. I wasn’t looking for love when I moved back here. I wanted a quiet neighborhood where I could raise my daughter near her abuelos. But love found me anyways.”

You could feel your lip quiver. “Really?”

Frankie smiled and brought his forehead to rest on yours. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón, mi amor,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Frankie. With all of my heart.”

He brought his lips up to place a kiss on your forehead. “You sure you want to do this, cariño? You know all my baggage. You know how tough it will be.”

You let out a watery laugh. “Francisco Morales, you are the easiest man to love. You are kind and selfless. You’re stubborn. You love that baby of yours so, so much. It was so easy to fall for you. I’ve loved you since that first night we sat and talked right here.”

“Funny, that’s the night I knew, too. And the first night I bitched about Kelly.”

You groaned and looked down at your phone. “It can wait, cariño. It can wait.”

You looked back up at him and smirked. “You haven’t even kissed me, yet, Francisco.”

Frankie hummed and brushed a bit of hair away from your face and smiled. “You’re right, I haven’t. You are so beautiful, cariño.”

He leaned in close enough that your noses brushed. “May I?” he whispered.

Your answering ‘please’ was barely audible, but he closed the distance anyway.

Frankie was right. He loved you, so everything else could wait until morning.

[pasteljeon]

Blood Bound (m)

Summary: Tragedy brought you home. Love made you stay. Despite all odds, Namjoon has always been yours.

Werewolf!AU

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: werewolf au, fluff, mild angst, heat sex, breeding kink, namjoon has a big cock ana oop, size kink, mating, brief mention of death

Length: 7.1k

Notes: after almost a year in the making, it’s finally here!! i worked really hard on it so sdjskd please let me know what you think !! <3

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There’s a wolf staring at you.

It’s misty. Wisps of fog curl around your wrist, skin pricking as the tendrils dissolve, droplets sliding from your fingertips to soak into the underlay of moss coating the ground.

There is no path here, only one worn through years of treading and the same footsteps sinking into rich soil. Only its eyes are visible, a deep amber hue peering from the thick smog, its body veiled by the equivalent shade.

Its gaze is unyielding, intense yet soft. Unmoving.

“Momma! Mommy, he’s hurting!”

The bundle of fur cradled in your small arms lay in silence, chest barely rising and falling unsteadily as rivets of crimson liquid stained his smoky coat alarmingly fast.

You waddled your way clumsily to the house, your mother stumbling out to the backyard in a panic at your yell with a first aid kit.

“Bring him here,” she beckoned. You placed him down gently, trying your best to keep from jostling him too much, lest the wounds were irritated. Your mother set to work immediately, clearing a work station on the patio tables.

You sniffled, watching as she cleans his injuries. “Is he going to be okay?”

“It’s hard to say, sweetheart. His cuts aren’t too deep, but there is still a chance for infection. We must act quickly.”

You ran to find your father, who’d been napping on the couch. It was a Sunday, the clinic closed and void of any patients.

“Dad! Daddy, come help! There’s a doggy and he’s really hurt! Mommy says she needs the – the t-tweasers?” You fumbled with the word, tentatively testing it out. He groaned, rolling from the sofa as he rubbed his neck. “A dog?” He yawned as he dug around the medical cabinet. He ruffled your hair as he passed, smiling fondly at the anxious look on your face.

“Your mom and I are going to help him, so don’t worry that little head of yours too much, okay?” You nodded, hot on his heels as he stepped out.

You clutched your skirt nervously, restless as you tried to focus on the book you were reading. The pictures failed to cheer you up as they usually did, and you closed it to take another look at the creature sleeping on the counter. Your father had carefully set him into a basket padded with cushioning and pulled a thin blanket of linen over his body. It was summer, warm enough so he wouldn’t need much more to keep comfortable.

It had been hours since they cleaned and dressed his wounds. A particularly long gash ran down his tummy, and your lips had quivered at the sight. The long rays of evening sun casted shadows, your stubborn insistence to take vigil over the puppy lasting until your mother came out again with some lemonade and sandwiches.

“Come inside, sweetie,” she said sympathetically. “He’s not going to get better just by you staring at him. The worst has passed. He’ll need a few weeks to heal fully.”

“Can he sleep with me?” You asked. She chuckled. It was against their policy to allow patients in their own rooms, but she could see how troubled you were. “Sure, baby.”

It took months before the puppy was strong enough to walk. Even then, he limped awkwardly, the abrasion on his calf closing slowly. Half a year passed swiftly, and he grew strong enough to run and jump. Your attachment to him was growing by the day. He seemed just as enamoured by you, never straying too far from your side, pulling at your leg to play with him or snoozing on your lap. He liked licking your cheek, and barked softly whenever he saw a mouse scurrying in the overgrowth.

“Ghost!” His ears perked, tail wagging as he trotted to you. You laughed as he leapt into your arms, sending the two of you sprawling onto the grass.

Just as a year slipped by, so did he.

“Ghost? Ghost!” Your sobs bubbled up, tears clouding your vision as you searched for him, knees scraped and dirty. Your mother put a hand over your shoulder, coaxing you up.

You turned around, giving the yard one last sweep as she led you back in. You wept.

He was gone.

You blink, and the memory fades. Your return your attention to the pair of golden eyes, but they’ve already disappeared.

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The cottage is cold. A delicate layer of dust has already collected over the furniture. Picture frames litter the mantle, a family portrait over the centre top. Setting your luggage aside, you shrug off your coat and rummage for cleaning materials underneath the sink. Tossing wood into the fireplace, you start with the timber figurines lining the living room. Your father’s handiwork, for your mother. For every anniversary.

It’s dark when you finish. You think you’ve cried at least thrice as you pack away your mother’s jewellery.

Scrubbing the remains of grime from your body, you settle into your childhood room for the first time in fifteen years. Staring out the window, it’s hard to find sleep. There’s much grief swirling within you, and little means of coping. But you like it here, and you’ve missed it. Your friends had offered to accompany you, to which you declined. This was something you needed to do alone.

Saying goodbye has always been the hardest part, after all.

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You dream of him. Ghost, darting through the forest. He’s bigger, now twice your size. You’re older, too. 13, maybe.

He’s as playful as you remember, stopping to sniff every undergrowth and occasionally scratch at a tree. You follow him, tugged by something inexplicable. He leads you to a meadow, a quiet space privy to nothing but your breathing and the gentle whispers of wind. The tiny glen is moonlight dappled, with fireflies flickering like stars.

He pads to the centre of the field, waiting for you patiently, tail flicking slowly. He blinks up at you, head cocked, and then lays down, resting his head on his forearms. Come here, he seems to say. So you do.

Tentatively approaching him, he only watches you with sleepy eyes as you gingerly recline on top of his back. He promptly curls around you, tail coming around to rest protectively over your stomach.

Combing through his fur, you smile as he nudges your hand. His tail thumps happily the moment your nails scratch behind his ears, nearly knocking you breathless. He whines softly as an apology, nosing your palm as he peers up at you sorrowfully.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. A content rumble erupts from his muzzle and he ducks his head under your arm so both are now wrapped firmly around his neck.

You don’t say anything after, cheek pressed against his thick pelt, skin warm as you feel his chest rise and fall rhythmically. The two of you watch the stars twinkle in companionable silence for the remainder of the night.

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The fire burns strongly as you wake, though the last time you touched it was hours ago. You feel disoriented, nostalgia aching in your heart. Yet, you’re also oddly comforted by the memory of something sweet.

Grabbing your drawstring bag, you pour some silver coins into it, enough for a quick trip to the market for groceries and some material for the dress you’ve been working on the past week.

A hoarse whimper startles you as you step out of the lodge, and you fall to your knees instantly at the sight of the bloodstained bundle of fur strewn next to your entrance, crawling to it quickly. Upon closer inspection, you realize with a sharp exhale that it’s a wolf—male, the very one that you’d glimpsed at your arrival. He’s massive, out shadowing you easily and in obvious pain by the way it’s panting, barely able to lift its head.

“Hey, hey,” you coo. “It’s going to be okay. Let me help you.” He seems eager to trust you, the way he closes his eyes and slumps, like he’s tired of having to guard its six. Hauling a pail of cool water and the med kit, it’s history remade once more as you wash his wounds and stitch them up. He watches you work, quiet even as you disinfect the deep claw marks.

“Got into a fight, didn’t you?” You say absently as you begin rolling the bandages on his torso. He huffs, warm air ruffling your tied locks as he blinks those gold-rimmed orbs forlornly at you.

“I wonder if Ghost is as big as you.” Running a hand lightly over his unmarred neck, he allows you to stroke him gently. Your palm practically sinks into his fur, thick and soft; his silvery pelt a shockingly gossamer sheen. With difficulty, he shifts, nearly toppling you over in the process, but you steady yourself on your knees as he reveals his stomach.

“No,” you breathe. Your blood runs cold, paling as you reach with shaky fingers to touch the thin scar stretching across the soft line of his tummy. “Ghost?” You say, stunned. He whines faintly, ears flattening as if expecting resentment. “You’re a wolf.”

He lowers his head, expression rather doleful as he puffs out another breath. “You’ve grown so much,” you whisper, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He rolls over, concealing the old wound once more, and paws at the ground at your knees.

“Don’t move so much,” you warn immediately, swiping at your cheeks. You touch his jaw delicately. “I’m not mad, I promise. Just … surprised. In a good way.”

“Can you walk?” Normally you would feel a bit awkward speaking to an entirely different species incapable of similar speech, but the intelligence and wisdom glowing in those tender tawny irises suggest otherwise. He feels familiar, and warm.

He heaves himself up, limping slowly as he shoulders his way through the narrow doorway and staggers onto the centerpiece rug. “Sleep baby,” you murmur, dragging over a thin sheet over him. He watches you with half-lidded eyes, tail swishing leisurely as you move around. “I have to go to the market,” you say as you pour water into a hefty bowl you hauled from the lower cabinets.

Ghost wrinkles his nose at the basin, looking fairly offended as he scowls at the object. “You lost a lot of blood. I know it’s not ideal, but bear with me here,” you say, amused.

He stares at you stubbornly, the thumping against the muffed boards increasing in volume. It takes one glance at those pleading honey-coloured orbs of his for you to cave.

“It’s okay,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “I didn’t really want to go anyway.” If wolves could grin, you imagine that’s what it would look like. Ghost’s lips pull back, sharp canines glinting in the firelight as his tongue rolls out excitedly. “You really are just like a dog,” you giggle. “But bigger.”

He barks, just once, in defiance. You laugh again, lugging a spare coverlet next to him for a makeshift bed. You lean up to kiss the tip of his nose gently. “Rest up, baby.”

His every exhale ruffles your locks, and his tail stills as you close your eyes.

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The first rays of light peek from the horizon just as you rouse at dawn, having slept unexpectedly peacefully. Your nightmares seem to have ceased momentarily, and your mind is clearer than it has been for a long time now. You muse it likely has something to do with Ghost’s presence being a wordless comfort.

Ghost heals much quicker than you’d thought possible. When you peel away the gauze, fully prepared to clean and rebind his wounds, med kit sprawled at your side, you find the cut is no more than a fresh layer of skin.

“How …?” You stroke the tender patch cautiously, testing the depth of damage, but Ghost nuzzles your arm, seemingly unbothered. Examining the area, you realize his fur has also grown back to full. It’s disorienting, like the injury never occurred in the first place.

“Are you well enough to join me?” You ask as you rise to your feet and pull on a clean shirt. The wolf follows, shaking himself out before padding toward the door and taking a seat at the entrance, golden eyes patient as he waits silently.

With a giggle, you scratch under his chin in appreciation, his tail nearly dislodging the flooring beneath him in its intensity. He leans against you heavily when you reach the spot behind his ear, tongue loose as he pants.

“Found your weak spot, huh,” you tease. Ghost lets out a faint whine but remains lifeless against you save for the furious wagging of his tail. “So cute.”

He whimpers when you release him reluctantly. “I’ve gotta change and eat something quickly, and then we can go, okay?”

He huffs and straightens again, struggling to cast the drowsiness from his pelt, managing to look much more alert when he sits up once more.

When the sun is at its peak and you’ve showered, feeling a little more refreshed, and finished the small snack of grapes and apples you’d brought along for your journey, you sling your bag over your shoulder and the two of you set out to the market.

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This village is home.

And you’re reminded of it with every step you take into the crowded streets, the cheerful calls of merchandise and a wide assortment of edible goods from foreign lands set up in colourful arrays of stalls, the kind smiles flashed in every direction. You breathe in the familiar scents of traded spice and homemade concoctions alike.

Their gazes are strangely intimate, and you know it is because of the label you wear with the shape of your lips and structure of your cheekbones. You’d left so young, but your family had stayed. For them, this village was everything.

And they remember.

It’s not as painful as you thought it would be. The recognition and quiet sympathy don’t suffocate you like you anticipated. Instead, you feel warm. Ghost is pressed tightly by your side, and the sight of a Grey wolf should both alarm and frighten, but this is no ordinary town. Hidden in the mountains and protected by fog and legend, magic is whispered through generations of bloodlines.

“Hello, dear,” a merchant says. “Interested in some silk threads?” She’s old, deep crinkles at the edge of her eyes as she beams up at you. Still so lively, despite her age and deteriorating body. You like her.

“Hello,” you say shyly. “Would you have any spider silk on hand, by any chance?”

The trader brightens. “Of course! One moment.” Disappearing behind artistically beaded curtains, you wait patiently at the side, one hand absently scratching Ghost behind his ears as you peruse the charms and accessories on display.

“Princess. It’s so very good to see you again.” Startled, your fingers still, head raising slowly. Your companion seems to sense your uneasiness and nuzzles your palm as if to reassure you the newcomer is of no immediate threat.

“I’m sorry,” you say, puzzled. “Do I know you?”

He grins. “You don’t remember? I’m hurt. I thought we’d be friends forever. Granted, I was 6 at the time, but we had so much fun.”

Ebony-dark hair, plush lips, eyes that slit into crescent moons when he smiled. A silver chain rests at the dip of the dangerously low v of his cotton tee. Wrists adorned with more silver, as well as several rings.

“J-Jimin?” You blink, stunned. “Oh my God. It’s been so long.” He pulls you into him the instant you’re on your feet.

“I know. You look as beautiful as ever,” he says fondly when you pull back. “We’ve missed you. Why didn’t you ever write?”

You avoid the thinly veiled curiosity in his look, hands sliding down his arms to grip his elbows. Ghost presses himself closer, pushing his head onto your upper thigh as he lets out a quiet huff. “You’re so handsome now, Chimmy. You’ve grown up so well. I see you’ve been running with the pack. Beta, right? Mother told me.”

Jimin takes your hands gently. “Noona, it’s just me.”

You stare at his chest, tracing the dark ink that flaring across his ivory skin absently.

“Princess, please.” He tips your chin up, amber orbs soft and unguarded as he pleads. They can’t. They can’t.

“I can’t.” You close your eyes. “Please, Jimin. Don’t ask.”

“It’s safe here. You know that, right? We would never let anything happen to you,” he says tightly.

“I know,” you draw away, resting your hand on Ghost’s massive head lightly. “That’s not what I’m worried about, Jiminie. No one wants to talk about it because they trust you, but the treaty needs to be renegotiated before the blood moon rises.”

“Then come back,” Jimin insists, stepping closer. Your companion rumbles, though remains immobile.

You take a breath. “It’s not that easy.”

“He’s your mate.”

“Not by choice. He doesn’t really want me. I’m a means to an end, Jimin,” you exhale tiredly. “I always have been. It’s why I left. At least for a little while, I could pretend my life could be something more than just destiny.”

“___, please. You know what happens if the full moon comes and goes and you don’t bond with him. The treaty will end. The bloodline … it’s what keeps this place alive.” He’s imploring you, sympathetic but resolute.

“I don’t want this,” you say in a small voice. “He deserves to be happy, too.”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t make him?” It makes you pause for a moment, surprise flickering, and Jimin smiles wryly.

“Give this a chance, noona,” he says. “You are more suited for each other than you think. Fate is not a fool. You were chosen for a reason.”

From his pocket, he opens your palm, dropping the item and closing your fingers over it firmly. “Give him a chance. He might just be everything you never knew you needed.”

“Sorry for the delay, dear!” You jerk at the sound, slipping the object in your bag before turning on your heel. The merchant makes her way over, waving a roll of thin silk in her hand.

“It was in the back shelves. My assistant being mischievous again,” she explains, chuckling. You manage a polite smile. If she catches your sudden change of mood, she doesn’t comment, simply going about wrapping your goods cheerfully.

When you glance back, Jimin’s gone.

Ghost whines. You nod. “Thank you. How much?”

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It’s quiet.

A cool breeze ruffles your locks, the lawn freshly mowed. Morning dew sparkles from the afternoon glow, the sound of grass and the odd leaf crumpling beneath your shoes.

Ghost is silent as he pads next to you, steps light despite the sheer mass of his body. He’s keeping close to you, the extraordinary heat emanating from him a wordless comfort against the chill settling deep in your bones.

You stop.

You exhale shakily, bending to gently set the bouquet at the foot of the grave.

Ghost sweeps the area behind you with his tail, brushing away debris and droplets. You crack a tiny smile at the very humanlike gesture, rubbing his ears in gratitude before taking a seat.

He wraps himself around you, circling twice before settling, resting his chin on his forepaws.

You lean into him, and Ghost whimpers lowly, nudging you.

With a watery sigh, you bury your face in his fur, sobs muffled by the density and his tail curls around your stomach, a reassuring weight.

You cry until you’re empty and all that’s left is you and him.

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The skies are pink when you leave.

The sun peeks from over the horizon, dipping low. Your gait is slow, the mental exhaustion pulling on your physical form heavily.

Ghost trots beside you, echoing your steps, but pushes before you to stop at the foot of the entrance.

His head cocks to the side, golden eyes impossibly wise yet tender.

You scratch under his chin lightly, cracking a smile. “I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

The wolf licks a long stripe up your cheek, nosing your jaw. You kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you.”

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Ghost weaves himself effortlessly back into your life.

He stays with you, guards you. Sleeps at the foot of your bed, keeping you grounded on nights sleep escaped you.

He’s there when the nightmares threaten to consume you, gently pawing at you, barking quietly. Your anguish was powerful, but Ghost never baulked.

Eventually the dreams faded. Your grief, like a storm, passed. The sorrow lessened, and breathing became easier.

Princess, still whispered but less so. With the White Wolf guarding your back, they wonder why you’re trying to run. No one prods, but you know they wonder.

The days continue to slip by peacefully. Despite this, you know time is ticking. The deadline is drawing near and you’re terrified.

You know they’re going to try to find you.

He’s going to try to find you.

And you have no idea what to do.

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Your next trip to the market, the sweet farmer you’ve been building a steady friendship with is absent.

“He’s out sick,” her replacement explains. She’s youthful, likely around your age. She’s beautiful, with long cerulean hair and cold green eyes, an uncommon set of characteristics found in your village. She’s not from here.

Ghost is tense beside you, ears flattened. She leers at him subtly. Your skin prickles at her smile.

Your lips quirk and you buy one bushel of strawberries from her.

“Meat?” You ask instead, glancing down at him. Ghost blinks.

Idly, you wonder if her presence here means any threat.

It’s not your place for concern, you remind yourself. Because it isn’t.

Not yet, anyway.

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The season is turning when he comes.

You wake to a warm, hard body pressed against you.

He’s gorgeous, with silky silver hair and a chiselled jaw line. Asleep, the broad expanse of his bare chest rises and falls rhythmically, an arm resting over your stomach.

In one swift maneuver, you flip him over, pressing the blade against his neck. “Where. Is. Ghost.”

He doesn’t flinch, eyes fluttering open to reveal beautiful molten gold irises. “Namjoon,” he says. “I’m sorry I lied to you.” His voice is deep, rumbly. Like velvet.

He shifts, hands up placidly when you push the blade harder in warning. You let him pull the sheets down to reveal his naked abdomen, where a long, healed laceration sits.

You falter, knife slipping from your grasp. He catches it easily, setting it to the side. His piercing gaze never drifts.

You get off him, move to your wardrobe. Throw him some old clothes. Your father’s, likely to be a bit loose on him. You hear him fumbling with them, mattress creaking as he stands.

You remain silent as you pull a shawl over yourself.

“You’re angry.”

He’s behind you, that supernatural heat radiating off him warming you despite your inner turmoil. Worry seeps into his tone.

He reaches for your hand, but you step away quickly. “Don’t touch me,” you say. Hiding your trembling fingers buried in your elbows.

“Please don’t push me away. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know how else to—to approach you. To see beyond the labels.” Desperation. Frustration. “Please, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you say automatically. Your feet lead you to the kitchen. To start your morning routine. Pulling out ingredients, striking a match to start the stove.

“Princ—___. Please. I—I was wrong, I know. I just—I wanted to be here for you. This was the only way you would ever let me in.” He follows you. Like a puppy, like he’s always done. All his life.

“When I was gone—did you ever—did you ever try with anyone else?” You ask bluntly, turning around to meet his gauge his reaction.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. “Yes—yes, I tried. That’s what you wanted all along, right? But it doesn’t work. All I could think about was you. Even—even with my ruts. Nothing worked, nothing helped. I suffered, ___. It was torture being without you, all these years.”

“Not for me,” you say matter-of-factly before returning to your task. You concentrate on chopping onions to avoid the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. You’re a fucking sadist, you tell yourself grimly. All you’ve ever done is hurt him. Even though he deserves the world.

“And … and you? Did you … did you—try?” He’s hesitant. He doesn’t really want an answer, but he wants to know. He wants to pretend the knowledge of his won’t kill him.

“Yes, and it works for me. I can’t feel the bond,” you say. “I’m not one of you, remember? All human, one hundred percent of the time.”

He thinks he’s going to kneel over with how powerful the pain crashing over him feels. It almost cripples him, but he also knows—

“You’re lying.”

You stop. “No, I’m not.” The cutting resumes.

“You’re cooking for me. Historically, females have accepted the mating bond through a demonstration of food,” he says casually.

You stare at the plates.

The table is set for two.

.

.

.

The atmosphere is tense, the silence broken only by the occasional clink of silverware.

“___—”

“Namjoon, please.” You drop the fork you’re holding. “I don’t want to talk about this. There’s no discussion. I never wanted this, and I never will. End of story. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”

“There is no one else. I don’t think you understand. We can only choose once. That’s it. And my wolf chose you. I chose you.” He sounds like he’s choking up, voice caught in his throat. “I’m not asking for a definite answer. I just want you to try. I know you can feel the bond between us. I can hear your heart. It’s fluttering.” Like a hummingbird in your rib cage, eager to take flight, he wants to say. He is not good at wooing, has never needed to before. He has wanted, before, despite his position, personality, looks, everything. Despite all that he is, he has never wanted anything more than what he is, and yet here he sits, begging you to take all that he can be for a mere chance.

“Have you ever thought maybe, just maybe, all of this wasn’t your choice? That we’re simply meant to be because of destiny?” You say bitterly. The bigger part of you wants to say yes, yes, all I’ve ever wanted to say is yes, but what if all of this is a mistake, what if I can’t be the one you need, what if—

“I don’t care,” he says fiercely. “I want you. I know I want you. Every fibre of my being needs you. Close to me, always. You spirit, your soul. It calls to mine.”

“You don’t even know me,” you shoot back. Weaker. His eyes gleam.

“But I want to,” he insists. “I want to know everything about you. I already know your heart. It is gentle and kind and giving and that is enough for me. Please. I can be good for you, I promise.”

Your chair screeches loudly as you stand, half-finished plate in hand. Your hunger eludes you again.

He watches you warily.

You take a breath.

“The first time—why did you go?” Voice timid. Scared. –Because you’re nothing, you were never anything, can never be anything and—

“To keep you safe.” He’s firm. You risk a glance. His eyes are honest. He’s never lied to you before. Until now.

You cover your forgotten meal with a cloth.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He perks up, disbelief and excitement sparkling. He can hardly dare to believe. Finally, finally—

“Yes. But slow. I don’t know—I still don’t know if I’m ready for this,” you say, leaning against the counter as you turn.

He rushes over, nearly tripping over the leg of the table, exhilarated and ecstatic.

“Yes—yes. Of course.” He skids to a stop, hands hovering near you, remembering the lines as he begins to withdraw, looking embarrassed at his childish enthusiasm.

“Kiss me.” You dare. He flushes. “I—I do not think that’s slow, exactly—”

“Namjoon.”

He cups your cheek gingerly, palms so large they engulf your entire face, dipping his head. You say his name again, breath sweet as it ghosts across his lips.

Kisses you softly.

You grip his shirt, swallowing his moan when his lips crash over yours again, dragging his tongue over your seam.

He parts your mouth easily, devours you, one hand braced around your waist where he crowds you against the marble counter.

Then you make a noise.

Namjoon groans, reluctantly tearing himself away, the movement sluggish and impossibly difficult given the way his body refuses to unglue itself from you.

He buries his face in your neck, suckling your skin tenderly.

“Slowly,” he rasps.

Your breathing is laboured and you nod against his chest, dazed. “Yeah.”

.

.

.

“I see you took my advice.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling tonight?” You raise an eyebrow, not bothering to throw him a look as you continue patting in the soil. You know he’s sporting his signature smug grin.

“This is patrolling. It’s part of my route.” You hum, determined to engage in as little talk as possible. It’s already enough mortification to walk through the village with the tall, handsome leader by your side, with the knowing smiles and fond congratulations. You know they mean well, and this is a big deal, but—it’s a lot to take in. You’ve never enjoyed being the centre of attention. And now you’re exactly that.

“Jimin, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Namjoon’s voice cuts in, annoyed.

The Beta pouts. “Way to ruin my fun, Joonie.”

“Jimin.” The warning tone has him sighing.

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you lovebirds be, but remember! I get to name your first pup,” he calls as he jogs off.

“I hate him,” Namjoon says flatly, watching him leave with his arms crossed.

“No, you love him. He’s just being nosy because he cares about you,” you correct, smiling as you stretch. Dropping a kiss on his cheek, you tug him inside. “It’s time for dinner.”

Namjoon trails after you, glowing.

.

.

.

He never discusses pack business with you.

He knows this relationship you’ve been building together is still preliminary, still just a trial run. It’s going well—so well, in fact, that he’s terrified something will happen that’ll flip all of it on its head. Things usually do, because he attracts disaster. He always has.

He’s never been happier. He feels at peace with you, content and bursting at the seams with every word, every smile, every touch.

His wolf is quiet, tamed at your very presence. Basking in your attention.

He’s just—so whole.

So it’s only natural, he supposes, that he’s the one that destroys it.

.

.

.

It’s ironic that it’s raining.

You can hardly tell if it’s your tears or the rain that blurs your vision.

It doesn’t matter much, you think, as you stare at the scene of Namjoon kissing someone else.

Not just someone else—the girl from the stall. The one with blue hair and bright eyes.

Prettier. Smarter. Everything. Liar.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Your basket is dropped, somewhere, lost. Where should you go?

“___, please! I didn’t kiss her, she’s set this up so you’d reject me—so I’d have no choice but to go to her, but I won’t!” He’s loud, frantic, following you again.

A door, a door, your door. You fumble with the key.

“I don’t care. I don’t care,” you chant, teeth chattering. Cold. You’re soaked to the bone.

“I love you,” he breaks, a sob catching. His voice is strangled, throaty. “I love you. Please believe me. I don’t—I can’t do this life without you. Please. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.”

“Leave, Namjoon. I never want to see your face again. I hate you,” you say hollowly.

“You don’t mean that. You don’t mean that. Say you don’t mean that. Please. Please,” he repeats, crying earnestly now. He looks so small, clothes clinging to him, expression fearful and miserable. Hunched into himself. Reaching out for you.

“Stay away from me,” you grit. The lock clicks. His eyes widen, panicked. “No—no, no, no, no! Don’t—don’t shut me out, don’t do this, please, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You slide to the ground, shivers wracking your body as you listen to him sob on the other side of the door.

Time loses meaning, the water from your clothes creating a puddle as you sit there, huddled.

He doesn’t stop whispering apologies until Jimin comes to collect him an hour later, dragging him away as he fights. You can hear him shouting and struggling, but Jimin’s firm, hauling him away.

When all that’s left is the quiet patter of rain on your rooftop, their voices fading into silence, you get up and draw yourself a bath.

.

.

.

He’s so weak. You make him weak. His role as the pack leader, his senses, rationale, everything flies out the window when it comes to you. Everything he’s built the past decade, the person he’s become.

“Jimin, I fucked up,” he says wretchedly. The empty crater is growing, expanding each second he’s away from you. His wolf howls, the anguish too raw for him to bear much longer.

“You need to prep for your rut,” his Beta says instead. Jimin paces restlessly, rubbing his temples as he watches Namjoon bury his face in his hands. He’s never seen their leader so broken, it terrifies him.

“I—I need to see her,” Namjoon says suddenly, standing abruptly. Jimin rushes to the door, blocking the entrance.

“Now is not the time,” Jimin warns. “You’re entering your pre-rut. You could hurt her. She’s not ready.”

Namjoon sucks in a shuddery sigh. And then, “Jungkook.”

A beat.

“Yeah, hyung?”

“Set up the chains. And have Yoongi stand guard. Make sure I don’t get out,” Namjoon orders.

Jungkook meets Jimin’s gaze briefly. The Beta nods and he disappears from the room.

Namjoon collapses back in his seat, staring down at his hands silently.

The group looks at him worriedly. Jimin merely shakes his head, lips pursed. They’ve never seen their leader look so defeated before.

“It’s fine. It’ll be fine. They’ll talk it out and she’ll understand. She’s just hurting right now,” Jimin says.

But his tone wavers, uncertainty seeping in. He doesn’t know.

.

.

.

You wake to the sounds of someone pounding at your door.

The moon is high, your camisole thin and your exhaustion wearing thin.

“Jimin, why are you—” Rubbing your eyes, you pull it open, only to be shoved into an overheating body. You let out a surprised gasp, stumbling back as you struggle to support the weight.

“Wha—Namjoon? What are you—what are you doing here? Why are you so warm?” He’s burning up, feverish. Your palm meets bare skin, sweat coating his chest. Half-naked and delirious, Namjoon slurs, “I—I have to … apologize. Can’t lose you, not like—like this, she did this, I don’t want her, I don’t care about her. I need you. I need you. Princess … Princess, come home.”

“Are you—are you sick?” You nearly topple over as he crumples on your bed, silver locks plastered to his forehead. Something tinkles, and you pale at the sight of broken chains around his wrists.

“You’re ignoring … ignoring me. Don’t, please,” he pants, sitting up with difficulty. He rakes a hand through his hair, eyes bright but hazy, golden irises a mere thin ring. It’s so hard to … to talk, to think with this heat running through his veins.

“Namjoon …”

“I know—I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not true! I didn’t kiss her back, I pushed her away, I—I—I—” he’s babbling, he’s losing it and you grab his face.

“I know,” you say simply. Namjoon closes his eyes, sagging in your hold as relief floods through him, the deliria fading momentarily.

“I know. I just … it hurt. I thought—maybe I was right. That your feelings for me aren’t real, that you’re just … settling.” He frowns, shaking his head rapidly as he takes your hands. “No, no that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, since we met, since we were kids.”

“As Ghost, I … I saw your compassion, your humanity,” he rasps. “I didn’t mean to chase you away. I didn’t even know what my feelings for you would entail back then.”

“No … I was being stupid. I was scared,” your gaze drops. “I’m sorry. I should’ve waited to hear you out. I was just afraid that you’d only wanted me out of convenience.”

“___. I love you. I want to know you, if you’d let me,” he says shyly. He’s flushed, the heat bleeding back, but he can’t lose focus.

“Complete the treaty, then,” you say breathlessly. You don’t want to run anymore. For once, you want to face your fate head-on. You step back, pulling your top off in one fluid motion.

Namjoon freezes, wide-eyed. “You … you don’t know what you’re saying. What that means,” he croaks. He leans back, struggling to breathe.

Your core clenches at the sight of him, silver hair raked back, muscles taut and rippling beneath smooth caramel skin. He’s beautiful.

“Are you sure? You know what happens after, right? You’ll become my Luna, the Pack’s Princess … are you sure you want this?” He’s still holding himself back, likely by his sheer will at this point. Ruts are powerful, even more so when he’s the Alpha.

“Yes,” you say, straddling him. His hands feel so large where they come to rest at your hips, squeezing gently.

With him, you feel safe.

“I want you … I’ve been waiting for you, all this time. I want you to be my mate. To be mine.” You can feel his length, hard and throbbing, beneath his slacks. His kind has always been well-endowed, and you can feel his tip nudging at your centre.

“Take me, then,” you whisper, nosing his jaw. Namjoon groans, hold tightening before he slams you against the mattress.

“You drive me crazy,” he growls, ripping your panties off impatiently with his teeth. Shoving down his jeans, he wastes no time aligning himself. You’re already so wet, and he preps you easily, sliding two fingers in and scissoring you gingerly. Your spine locks, the pleasure flooding your system like a forgotten drug.

You gasp his name and he nips at your throat, violet flowers blooming with every touch.

“Wanna breed you, make you mine, fill you to the brim with my seed,” he moans, hips jerking as he enters you, the feeling of your walls clenching around him sends his head spinning.

“N-Namjoon,” you mewl, clawing at his back helplessly as he punctures every word with a thrust. He sets a punishing pace, already edged and desperate. Having you splayed out like this, so ethereal and so wholly his, awakens something primal, darker. His wolf demands to be unchained.

“I can’t think, can’t focus on anything but fucking you senseless and knocking you up with a litter of my pup,” his voice is guttural, so deep you know it’s not quite the man you’ve gotten to know the past few weeks.

“Hello, Luna,” he drawls. His eyes are flecked with silver, lips curled into a lazy smirk. The other side of the same coin.

“Ghost,” you murmur, smiling. You reach up to stroke his cheek, and he nuzzles your palm, turning to kiss it gently.

His touch is sweeter, loving. The frenzy is lost for the moment, the heat and the need dissipating as he licks into your mouth eagerly. He exhales, cock twitching inside of you as he fucks into you slowly.

“With this vow, we are bound. In sickness and in health, to protect and to cherish. Let the moon be our witness,” he breathes, dragging his fangs over the delicate skin of your neck.

You hold him close as he marks you, lapping at your blood as you cry out softly.

Forevermore, he wants to say, but he refrains because though it’s part of the vow, it’s still too early, too much.

For now, this is enough.

.

.

.

You lose track of time after that. They switch periodically, taking turns fucking you into oblivion before waking you with their mouth on your breast, suckling hard as their fingers tease your clit. Between the sheets, they learn to worship every crevice of your body, how to make you sing and sigh and moan so beautifully.

You take breaks only to drink water and to feed each other pieces of fruit and bread. Showers become pointless after he takes you against the wall twice before falling back onto the bed for a third and fourth.

It’s dawn when he’s finally burned through most of his rut.

“Who was that girl?” Namjoon hums, fingers sliding through your locks as you trace figures on his bare chest absently.

You’re exhausted but glowing, and he can’t stop smiling.

“From a neighbouring pack. They wanted me to choose her instead, to solidify an alliance. We already had one, they were just being greedy. She knew about you and tried to sabotage me. Don’t worry, I had Jin take care of it,” he kisses your nose. “You know I only want you, right?”

You nod, cheeks colouring.

“It’s only ever been you.”

.

.

.

“And the bell?”

Jimin grins, twirling the spatula in his hand. “It’s the one Joon gave to you the first night he met you. He didn’t just pick it up out of nowhere, you know. It’s like a family heirloom. Only his mate can wield it and only he can hear it.”

“Where’d you find it? I thought I lost it when I moved.” The bell sways silently where it dangles from the red string.

“You didn’t,” he says simply, flipping the pancake.

“Huh.”

“___! Princess, are you okay?” Namjoon comes barrelling through the door, skidding to a stop in front of you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Jimin,” you say slowly. “Just how sensitive is this bell?”

“I wouldn’t use it. Like, ever, unless you’re about to die or you want those flaming hot cheetos when you’re carrying,” Jimin answers matter-of-factly.

Namjoon’s still fussing over you and you sigh.

“I fucking hate you, Park.”

[catxsnow]

BELIEVE IN YOU G.L.

Request: Could u do a gar imagine where gar loses control and kills someone and the reader is the only one to come to his defence when the rest of the titans start acting differently around him. I feel like gar needs a hype man bc he's constantly second guessing himself.

Warning: mentions of blood, death, fluff, gar being a lil cutie as he does

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say so I guess I hope you guys had a good day/will have a good day. 

Word count: 3.2k

If there was one person in this world that you would trust with you life, it was Gar Logan. Gar was the kindest, sweetest person you had ever met in you life. He never failed to make you smile and he continuously showed just how resourceful he could be. There was never a time that he would give up, especially when it came to protecting his friends.

Gar never failed to to make sure that his friends knew that he was there for them. Whether it was out on a mission, or within the tower, he was there. When Rachel needed comfort, he was there. When Jason needed someone to talk to, he was there. When you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there.

So when Gar lost control protecting you and his teammates, things changed. All Gar ever wanted to do was keep the people he cared about safe. He was still under the affects of what Cadmus had done to him, and keeping his tiger under control was far harder than it ever had been. He never wanted to hurt people, and yet he had no choice.

The mission Dick had you guys on was supposed to be an easy one. Something that just you and Gar could handle. Things had gone bad, fast. There were far more men there than expected and the two of you couldn't handle all of them on you own. A bullet passed through your suit and into your side. It was just a graze, but it was enough to slow you down.

Gar had no choice but to shift into the tiger if either of you wanted to make it out alive. While he had, he also didn't realize the lack of control that he had as well. When he saw one of the men try to grab you and shove you into their car, he had completely lost all sense of what was right and wrong.

The man that held you was mauled beyond repair. Those who hadn't already been taken down, were long gone. Gar, as the tiger, stood over the man. He hadn't looked at you, but the second his green fur was covered in blood, you weren't sure if you wanted him to notice you.

Finally, he shifted back into himself, realizing what he had done. Blood dripped down his chin, covering his neck and chest. His hands too were dripping with another man's blood. Gar finally looked over at you, petrified that all he would see in your eye is fear. You knew him well enough that this wasn't his fault.

The wound you had caused far too much blood loss and you were starting to sway on your feet. He needed to get you back to the tower, but he also feared of what the others would think.

He was right to worry too.

When you had arrived back at the tower, Dick and the others surrounded you with worry. They tended to your wound immediately, but as soon as you were patched up, all attention was on him. Gar had to explain that he had killed a man saving you.

Surprisingly, it was Dick that had taken it the worse. He had killed many people in his days as Robin, he had no right to yell at Gar for doing so. Not when he barely had control, Cadmus had done this to him, it wasn't like he wanted to do it. Yet, he was still yelled at for killing an innocent man. Even if he wasn't innocent at all.

When Dick stormed off in anger, Gar was the one that reminded by your side. You were passed out from being so weak, but Gar was just happy to see you alive. He grasped your hand in his and pressed them against his forehead.

Tears of shame and anger shed. He hated that Dick was mad at him for something he couldn't control. It wasn't like he had intentions on killing that man, it was the last thing that he wanted to do. He was already haunted by the others, he didn't need another on his list. Gar was furious at himself for losing control again.

But when he saw you getting taken, he couldn't stop himself. You were the person that was always on his side, he couldn't lose you. The tears got worse and worse until suddenly he was sobbing with dread. He had killed someone, that wasn't something that he could just take back.

The blood on his skin was dried up and he was acutely aware of just how disgusting he felt. Gar ripped his hand away from yours and bolted out of the room. He needed to shower, he needed to get rid of every trace that he had ever lost control.

It felt like hours that he was under the water, scrubbing away every drop of blood until his skin was raw. What would you think of him when you awoke? That was his biggest concern. Dick had already made his argument, and by the looks of it, Kori and Rachel were on his side. Jason would be too if he was still around.

Reluctantly, Gar turned the shower off and stepped out. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he sprawled out on his bed. The door to his room was open just ajar, but he couldn't get the motivation to get up and close it. That night wasn't suppose to have this turnout at all.

The creak of his door opening wider caused him to force his eyes shut, he didn't want to hear another lecture from Dick. "I heard you the first time, Dick."

"Didn't hear it from me." Gar's eyes popped open and he jumped up in his bed. You were standing in his door way, leaning against the frame. You skin looked pale from the blood loss and he could see your hands shaking.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Gar scolded. He joined you at your side a swung your arm over his shoulder as he walked you his bed to sit. You winced as you sat, which didn't go unnoticed by him. It should have been him that got that bullet, not you. Things would have turned out completely different.

"Had to see if you were okay," You shrugged. Gar sat beside you. He didn't notice that his hands were also shaking until he saw them next to yours. You reached out to grab it, stopping the both of you. "Whatever Dick told you, he's a hypocrite for saying it. He's hurt a lot more people than you ever have, and ever will."

"He's not wrong though," Gar sighed. "I lost control. What if I had gone after you next? What if there were more people there? Innocent people?"

"Sleep, Gar," you finally spoke after a long pause of silence. You couldn't deny that for a split second, you worried that you were next. Gar would never hurt you, but the people at Cadmus? That was a different story. Your hesitance spoke loud and clear to him: you feared him.

You stood up from the edge of the bed, pausing at his side to kiss the top of his head. Gar leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce that he surely wouldn't get again. How many more of these accidents would it take for him to be kicked off the team? How many more until no one trusted him again?

As badly as he wanted to avoid sleep and the nightmares that would follow, he couldn't stop the black void from taking over.

><

Gar noticed the difference with everyone in the tower by the next morning. Dick refused to acknowledge that he was even in the same room. Rachel avoided his gaze, she never thought he would be able to pull what he had. Even Kori had trouble sparking a conversation with him. You were the only one to send smiles his way.

The entire day, he moped around the tower, sticking to his room as much as possible. This treatment that everyone was giving him couldn't last wrong, right? He knew that he had made a mistake and he was doing his best to correct it. But how do you fix something that can't come back?

That night at dinner, you had missed the presence of Gar at the table. It had been quiet since Jason left, you didn't think it could get any worse - but without Gar, it had.

You found yourself tossing and turning for hours in bed that night. Your wound still flared up in pain at every movement and would for a while. There was no way that you were going to be able to sleep, and you were sure the boy in the next room couldn't either. That was how you found yourself knocking at his door at three in the morning.

You stood there for several moments, wondering if he was sleeping or even if you had awoken him. Just as you were about to leave, the door creaked open and the small amount of light coming from the hall lit Gar up. He was in his boxers, but eyes wide awake.

"Figured you couldn't sleep either," you told him of your prediction. Gar opened his door wider for you to step in.

"Why'd you come here?" Gar asked. He sat down on the edge of his bed. His sheets were all messed up and you knew that he had the same problem of not being able to stay still. You hadn’t talked to him much that day which led him to believe that you had the same judgement of him as your teammates. 

"Because last time I couldn't sleep you came to my room and slept next to me so I could," you reminded him. It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like years. Nightmares plagued your for weeks on end before Gar finally offered you some sort of solution. You never expected it to work, but you had slept like a baby that night.

Gar huffed out a breath of air as a half smile graced his face. It was the first sign of any happiness you had seen from him all day. Gar remembered that night vividly. He could remember your scream of horror as you woke up from you nightmare and running into your room to see if you were okay. It was a simple gesture of seeing if you wanted him to stay, but you had never been more grateful.

"Did you come here for me, or for you?" Gar asked, finally meeting your eye since you came in.

"Mutual benefit," you shrugged. "It's just an offer, I can leave if you want to be alone." Gar's heart rate rose at your counter-offer. He didn't want you to leave, not when you were the only person that seemed to still trust him.

"Stay," Gar decided. You nodded, crawling into his bed as he turned off the light by his bed. Small cracks of light from the city penetrated his blinds just enough so that you could see the outlines of his face. The two of you laid side by side and quietness over took once more. "Thank you."

"You mean more to me than you know, Gar."

><

You woke up to an empty bed and a sore side in the morning. Gar was gone and if it wasn't for you being in his room, there would have been no sign that you had even slept in the same bed.

The bandage that covered your side was shaded red and you knew that you must have popped a stitch sometime in the night. Whether it was before or after you got to Gar's room, it needed to be fixed. So, you left the warmth of Gar's bed as his scent lingered on your skin. You had no idea where he could have gone to, but you had a more pressing matter at the moment.

The door to the med bay was propped open as you stripped your side of the bandage. Blood covered your stitches and it was evident as to wear you had tore them. After washing it down, you braced yourself for the pain that would come with doing a quick stitch on yourself.

It didn't take long to fix what you had torn, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. Your eyes burned with tears as you held them back. As soon as you were done, you put a new bandage on and covered it back up with your shirt. No one needed to know that you had torn them, there was no need to cause worry.

"Where were you last night?"

"Fuck! Rachel! Don't do that," You scolded, hand over your heart to get it to stop racing from the surprise. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her feet propped up and a bowl of cereal in her hand. A coy smile was on her face, curious as to what you had been up to. "I was here."

"Your door was open all night and you weren't in your room," She continued on with a mouth full of food. "Did you just come from the med bay?"

"Yes," you rolled your eyes at her curiosity. "I had a few stitches rip, not a big deal." Maybe if you ignored her first question, she wouldn't push on with it. Thankfully, that was the case. Rachel didn't try to stop you again as you headed back to your room.

Although sleeping next to Gar once again had helped you sleep, exhaustion still wore you out. You worried about his connection with the others. Dick wasn't pleased about Gar's actions and you weren't sure if he would ever change his mind about it. Truth be told, you thought that he was just a little scared of Gar.

As kind-hearted as he was, he was powerful. Losing control like that, but against everyone would be devastating. Although you understood Dick's concern, he wasn't taking it well. 

You knew it too when you heard him and Kori talking about Gar.

Finally, when Dick's harsh words got to be too much, you had swung your door open with anger written on your face. He had no right to be saying that Gar was a lose screw to the team or that he was unsure if he belonged there anymore. Not after everything that he had done - what Kori had done too.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Your chest huffed up and down with frustration. "You're the team leader, Dick. You shouldn't be shunning Gar for his mistakes you should be helping him through them! Don't you think that he fucking regrets what he did? He didn't have control! You know what Cadmus did to him and you're not even considering the lasting effects!

"And you have no right to judge for accidentally killing someone when you've killed so many on purpose. If you wanna keep up at this self-proclaimed leader bullshit, then you better step up to the fucking plate because right now you're being an inconsiderate asshole.

"I would have died if Gar hadn't done anything. If you wanna kick him off this little merry band of heroes you have going on, then count me out too."

"(Y/N)!" Dick called after you as you walked away from all of them. You didn't turn back, but simply raised your middle finger at him. You might have been harsh to Dick about the truth of his actions, but he needed to hear it. Nothing frustrated you more than Dick not realizing how much of a hypocrite he was being.

The door to your room slammed with so much force that it rattled the walls. Dick clearly wasn't expecting an outburst from you - if anything he thought you would have been on his side. You were the one there, you saw just how vicious he could be when he didn't have control. Out of everyone there, you were the only to stay by his side.

Someone knocked at your door as you angrily paced around. "If you're here to talk, Dick, I don't want to hear it," You yelled. The door cracked open and you nearly slammed it back close until you saw the tuft of green hair peak through. "Gar," your voice softened. He slipped into your room and closed the door behind him.

Without having time to say anything, Gar had thrown himself into your arms with his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You didn't hesitate to hug him back. "Where were you this morning?" You quietly asked. He had heard everything you had said for him, but you didn't wish to talk about that at the moment.

"Woke up early, decided to go clear my head," Gar mumbled into your skin. Though he had slept better with you by his side, it still wasn't enough. But hearing you argue against Dick for him? That meant more to him than you could ever imagine. He never would be able to stand up for himself like that, and you had done it without thinking twice.

Gar woke up that morning with you in his arms. That hadn't happened the last time that you had slept with him, but it was a comforting change. The smile on your face as you slept warmed his heart like never before - you had never looked so peaceful before.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you. You could see the exhaustion written on his face from his previous nights. Gar didn't deserve this, he was the last person in this tower to deserve something like this to happen. Your hand reached up to his cheek, thumb swiping away the tears that he didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," Gar trembled. His eyes were red and his whole body seemed to shake with anxiety. "For having my back, I know it's not easy standing up to the people you care about."

"I care about you, Gar. It's easy to stand up for the people that you care about, no matter who it's against," You assured him. "This wasn't your fault, no matter what Dick says. I know you, I know in your heart that you would never mean to do something like that. I believe in you, more than you know."

"You mean more to me than you'll ever know," Gar repeated your words from the other night. It was the truth, you meant everything to him. He wished that he could express how much he truly cared for you - just as you wanted for him.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked. Truth be told you didn't want to let Gar out of your sight. You didn't want Dick to try and lecture him again, and you certainly didn't want anyone to spoil this better mood you got him in. “Mutual benefit and all, right?” 

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."