#I don’t expect her to be doing that prancing head up staring at me heel for more than a short period of time

[theadventurek9]

What is it about animals that people want them to act like robots? Taking no joy in their world, ignoring all other living beings, invisible, out of the way, and with no personality.

#let your dog sniff things god dammit #also take them on walks and let them look at their world and not have to worry about heeling in a tiny box #still side eyeing the man that said Aayla was well behaved until she approved him to greet him #sorry she is social?! #that I haven’t drilled out her desire to say hello to people? #she stoped when I told her to leave it #she had not been in a stay nor had I been asking her to focus on me #I don’t expect her to be doing that prancing head up staring at me heel for more than a short period of time #how would you like your outings if you had to March while staring at someone #don’t get me started on horses

[goldentournesol]

Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched. 

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest. 

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation. 

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other. 

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed. 

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him. 

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.” 

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #the receptionist and the profiler #tratp #spencer reid imagine #jeid #jeid confession

[handwrittenhello]

sweet little lies

Rating: M Warnings: Assassination attempts, poisoning, bombing Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer Word Count: 6.2k Summary: “He’s very…” Geralt trailed off, arms crossed. "Pretty?” Yennefer finished for him, appraising the man in front of her. He seemed entirely unconcerned about his state of near-nudity, and even less concerned about the fact that the entire court was ogling him, including the Warlord of the North and her right-hand man. “Thank you,” the man said, bowing deeply. “I do try.” -- When Yennefer of Vengerberg, Warlord of the North, receives Jaskier as tribute, she doesn't trust him—the rumor is that assassins and spies are trying to infiltrate her court. And despite being sent unwillingly, Jaskier seems perfectly happy—too happy—to be there. As tensions with the bordering country of Rivia grow stronger, she must beware, and figure out who she can truly trust.

or, yet another warlord au (but with warlord yennefer this time), inspired by @inexplicifics! read here on ao3.

“He’s very…” Geralt trailed off, arms crossed.

“Pretty?” Yennefer finished for him, appraising the man in front of her. He seemed entirely unconcerned about his state of near-nudity, and even less concerned about the fact that the entire court was ogling him, including the Warlord of the North and her right-hand man.

“Thank you,” the man said, bowing deeply. “I do try.”

He did indeed try, judging by how heavily his face was made up and by the numerous precious metals and jewels that adorned his ears and fingers and even one nostril. Yennefer didn’t think she’d ever seen more piercings in her life. The wealth the stranger wore on his body was simply astounding. Besides the more conventional jewelry, he also wore a shirt—if one could call it that—of fine gold chains interlaced, studded intermittently with shimmering gems. He wore no trousers, only a sheer wrap accentuated by a belt, made of yet more fine chains entwined. Finishing the ensemble were golden cuffs around his wrists—the entire outfit seemed to subtly shout prisoner, in fact, when she looked for it.

“And who sent you?” she asked, her voice ringing clear through the hall.

“I come to you as a gift, courtesy of King Vizimir of Redania,” the man replied, sinking into another low bow. “Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, Master Bard, and Esteemed Courtesan, at your service, my lady.” He made no mention of his own involvement in the matter, Yennefer noted darkly. She would not take slaves, expensive tribute or not.

But to publicly refuse such a gift would show blatant disfavor, and may spark an unwanted war. “You may tell King Vizimir I accept his gift,” she told the messenger who had accompanied Master Pankratz. “And you,” she turned to Pankratz, “may come with me.” She turned and left the hall, trusting him and Geralt both to follow her.

Whispers rose up in her wake, titters at what she might do with the new esteemed courtesan, but she ignored them. One did not become Warlord of the North by caring what courtly gossip featured oneself.

She pushed open the doors to her room, Pankratz just behind her, and Geralt, silent, bringing up the rear. He was good at that sort of thing—protecting her, always, and always with the taciturn seriousness most knew him for.

Only few knew what truly lurked beneath the surface. She was privy to more than most—as her right-hand man, bodyguard, and occasional lover, he let her see more than most. She could see a hint of it peeking out through his stony exterior now—he was disturbed, unsettled, though she couldn’t tell the cause.

She sat herself in her customary armchair by the hearth, Geralt taking a place looming behind her, and after Pankratz hesitated, she directed him to the armchair across from her. He sank into it quickly, giving the ridiculous impression of a puppy aiming to please its master. She rolled her eyes.

“We can drop the bullshit,” she stated plainly, and his eyes widened. “Do you truly wish to be here? Speak truly.”

He swallowed. “My lady, it is truly the greatest honor to be in your presence—” he began, but Yennefer cut him off with a look.

“I said no more pretty lies. I have enough of those in my court—I don’t need you adding to that pile of shit.” There was little more she despised than venomous intentions disguised. The best attack was one that could be anticipated.

“Very well, my lady. Though it is true I did not come here willingly—” Geralt stiffened at that, his hand going reflexively to the hilt of his sword, though Yennefer gave no outward indication of her disgust. “—I did not come here willingly, but, having found myself in your court, I find that there is little else I could wish for. In truth, I would much prefer here to whence I came.” He said the last bit in a black tone, hinting at some strife Yennefer knew not of.

“Well, I would give you the option, then,” Yennefer replied. “You may leave, if you so wish—I will supply you with enough to get by until you can establish yourself, wherever you may choose to go. I hear Toussaint is nice this time of year.” Pankratz smiled. “Or you may remain in my court, but know this—I tolerate no treachery, no spies, of any sort.” She leaned in close; the smile dropped from his face. “If I discover that you’ve been sent as some foreign agent to engineer my demise—” she locked eyes with him “—your demise will not be swift.” She spoke the last words softly, so softly, but plenty intelligible in the absolute silence of the room. “But you’ll wish it would be.”

Pankratz gulped.

“Have I made myself clear?” she asked, leaning back, releasing him from the uncomfortable closeness.

“Crystal, my lady,” he answered, smiling shakily. “And, if it’s all the same to you, I would rather not try my luck out there. Much easier to earn my keep at the luxury of the court.”

Yennefer wasn’t surprised by the attitude; clearly this was a man well accustomed to luxury. “Very well. And how do you plan to earn your keep?”

“Well, my lady,” he began, voice dropping into a sultry register. “You’ll find that I’m quite good with my fingers and tongue, as it were.” He slid from his chair, somehow managing to make it look effortlessly elegant, and shuffled closer to her on his knees. Geralt stiffened; Yennefer waited for Pankratz to dare touch her. But no touch was forthcoming, despite the strange flutter of arousal in her stomach that spoke to how she almost wanted him to try.

“Presumptuous of King Vizimir,” was all she replied. “And what if I have no need of a bedwarmer?”

Pankratz sat back on his heels. “Well, I have other talents. I studied at Oxenfurt—you may also hear me called Jaskier the Bard, at your service,” he said, giving a little half-bow, all he could manage in a kneeling position. “I would sing of your victories for all to hear and be warned, lest the—the Raven Storm come to batter down their doors!” He punctuated his sentence with a grand gesture, one that nearly knocked him off balance.

“No.”

“N-no, my lady?” Jaskier questioned, his arms dropping. “I can come up with something else, if you don’t like the name—"

“It’s not the name,” Yennefer said dismissively. “It’s the exaggeration. I’ve already told you, I value honesty alone. I won’t have any pretty ballads hiding bastard truths.”

Jaskier looked as though he wanted to argue, but wisely held his tongue. To soften the disappointment, Geralt came around and offered him a hand up. Jaskier took it, and also took a moment to stare appreciatively at Geralt. He was lucky she wasn’t the jealous type—she could have his head for it.

“You may stay,” she declared. “You need not pay for it in my bed, though if you do truly mean what you say, then we can discuss your… talents, as it were. For now, Geralt will find you rooms of your own and show you around the palace. You may have the rest of the day to acclimate, though I expect you in the dining hall tonight at sundown.”

It was a clear dismissal. “Thank you, my lady, you’re too kind,” Jaskier said as Geralt led him out of the room.

“No flattery,” she reminded him, but they were already gone.

Jaskier settled into life at her court like a duck to water. He did indeed have a talented tongue and fingers—which he proved the first time he sang for them, with a lute to accompany it. He bounced around the room, capturing the attention of all he met—he was impossible to ignore, loud and bright as he was, bedecked in jewelry.

Geralt had tried to offer him clothes when he first settled into his rooms, but Jaskier seemed more than content to prance around nearly naked. Geralt hated it—he complained to her, one night, that Jaskier was too distracting, pulling Geralt’s attention away. He took his duties very seriously—formerly a knight of Rivia, he now devoted himself to her with the same near-religious fervor, taking her protection upon himself.

It was sweet, if a little misguided. She could protect herself just as well, but it was nice knowing that he was there behind her, always ready to support her if she faltered.

“I don’t like it, Yen,” he said to her, late one night, as the fire burned down to embers in the hearth. They were curled side by side in her bed, sweat cooling on their damp bodies, Geralt occupying himself by playing with strands of her hair. “Unrest in Rivia is growing stronger—we could have a revolt on our hands before the harvest.”

“I’m not worried about Rivia,” Yennefer replied, waving a hand lazily. “Little more than whispers on the wind. King Reginald, gods spit on his soul, has too few supporters left to be any real threat. The rest either died with him in the coup or fled like the cowards they were.”

“I’m serious, Yen. Word on the street is that there’ll be an attempt on your life before the year is out.” A furrow creased his brow, his fingers growing tense in her hair. Gently, she disentangled them before lacing their fingers together.

“Is that not what I have you for?” she asked, a smile quirking her lips. He worried too much—his consternation was almost cute. “Relax. If any assault comes, we’ll be well prepared for it.”

“It won’t be anything as obvious as an attack on the city. Rivian forces are smart—they’ll send spies, or assassins, or both. You wouldn’t even see it coming.”

“If it will make you feel better, then you may begin vetting those in the court you find suspicious,” Yennefer relented.

Geralt hummed, his eyes slipping closed in satisfaction. She too closed her eyes, but the thought nagged at her—did she trust everyone in the palace? Most of them she’d known for decades—they’d worked under King Demavend with her, and had helped her overthrow him when he became too cruel to stand. She’d rewarded their loyalty with a place at her side, and they’d remained trustworthy through the years.

There had been few new arrivals since then—Geralt himself was among them, having joined her during the Coup of Rivia. And of course there was their newest arrival, Jaskier.

He seemed perfectly content in his new role. She had to admit it suited him well—he loved attention, and got it in spades when singing or when draped seductively next to her throne. He made good decoration, though she had yet to negotiate a more intimate role with him. She never held back from staring, though—and though he often caught her, he seemed pleased more than anything else.

Was he too comfortable here? It was true, he had settled in remarkably quickly—did he have a hidden purpose? But what use would King Vizimir have for a spy in her court, especially one as useless as Jaskier? He wasn’t present at any strategy meetings, or even privy to her company more than most. Perhaps he was an assassin biding his time?

Yennefer huffed. This was how paranoia set in—whispers and rumors crept in and set the mind aflame with possibilities until it drove itself mad. She resolutely cleared all thoughts of betrayal from her mind and tried to sleep.

Geralt commenced his investigation as soon as he was able, but Yennefer heard little else from him about it. She assumed that meant the search for traitors was proving unfruitful.

She interrupted him one day with a task at the southern border—there were reports of skirmishes breaking out, most likely bandit attacks. He departed with a promise to return by the month’s end, and she watched him leave with a pit in her stomach.

It wasn’t the first time they’d parted—so why was her stomach twisting so? Why were her instincts screaming that it would all go wrong?

There was nothing to worry about. She needed to take her mind off it, that was all. She went back into the palace and headed for the southern wing—where Jaskier’s rooms were.

“My lady Yennefer!” he greeted her happily, springing from his writing desk upon her entrance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Then he paused, frowned. “Where’s your shadow? I can’t hardly think of a time I haven’t seen him hovering menacingly over your shoulder.”

“He’s away for the time being.” She motioned him closer, and he went as if reeled in by a fishing line.

“Luckily you still have me,” he replied, biting his lip. He was yet unsure of his advances—good. She would keep him on his toes.

“And would you give yourself to me?” she asked, stepping even closer, until there were scant few inches between them. “Let me have you?”

“In a heartbeat, if my lady so wished,” he breathed, leaning in. She didn’t wait for his lips to brush hers; she surged forward at once, attacking with brutal efficiency. The kiss was more a clash of wills than anything tender. To her delight, he didn’t simply let her plunder his mouth, but gave as good as he got, hands coming up to clutch at her dress. She pushed him away, and his face split with confusion until she pushed him again, back onto the bed. His hands fisted in the covers as she climbed on top of him, finding the clasps that would free him from the confines of the chains that draped over his body.

Soon she had stripped the gold and gems from his body, and at some point her own clothes had disappeared as well, and finally she was free to take him how she wished. He was a good lover, enthusiastic and skilled—his talents truly were as good as he’d made them out to be.

Her only point of contention came near the end, when he began to murmur sweet nothings into her hair, praising her and begging in turn. Even after, when they lay panting atop the sheets, he continued to weave pretty lies, complimenting her prowess and beauty until she rolled over and pinned him down.

“What have I said about lying?” she bit, but there was no real heat to it.

“And as I’ve told you a dozen times, I speak nothing but the truth,” he replied, “but if you wish my silence, well—I suppose you’ll have to find a way to shut me up.” He grinned.

She was gratified to see that he was no longer the deferential pretty thing that had been gifted to her, but had instead grown into his role here and thus felt comfortable enough to tease and prod.

In fact, as the days passed and they spent more time together, he turned downright annoying, at times, whining about how cruel silver was to his skin—did she know that he was one sixty-fourth fae? How it itched so—but gold didn’t go as well with his complexion, and really, he should be wearing sapphires, not rubies, since they brought out the blue of his eyes better…

Yennefer tolerated it with confused amusement for all of one day before she took his suggestion and found ways to occupy his mouth, just so that the inane chatter would stop.

She was almost disappointed when the day that Geralt would return drew near. She looked forward to his triumphant return, of course, but she was apprehensive of how he would react to her getting so close to Jaskier in his absence. She was lucky that she didn’t have to contend with jealousy from him—he simply wasn’t the type—but nor did she want him to distance himself from her, afraid of intruding on something new.

And though she’d succeeded, for the most part, at distracting herself from his absence, she couldn’t shake the sense of dread that still came over her at odd times when she thought of him. He was plenty capable; there was nothing to worry about, she knew, and yet that didn’t stop her traitorous heart.

As the days passed, however, with no sign of his imminent return—not even a letter—she knew her worry was well-founded. On the second day of the new month—two weeks since she’d last seen him—she resolved to ride to the border with all the forces she could gather.

Jaskier worried at her departure—“My lady, you would leave the palace so defenseless?”—but she would not be swayed.

“You’ll be fine. The city can protect itself; you need not worry about a thing.”

“It’s not myself I worry for,” he replied flatly, a moue of displeasure overtaking his face. He didn’t grace her bed that night, and she resolutely told herself she wasn’t bothered.

The sun rose early, and she with it, saddling her horse and donning her armor. The air held a chill, heralding the coming of autumn, though it was unusual so early in the season. As the morning mists in the fields began to burn off, she and her forces rode out, heading south.

They were scarcely a mile away from the palace when she spotted something on the horizon. She called them to a halt, sending ahead scouts to report on what the disturbance was. They returned in short order, shouting joyously—Knight Geralt was returned, unharmed, though he’d lost his men in the interim.

“Yen,” he greeted her warmly, pulling short his ill-tempered mare as he approached. She seemed especially ornery today, hardly responding to his commands, but Yennefer supposed that after weeks on the road, she would be ornery too. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You should be,” she answered, but couldn’t maintain her anger for long, not upon seeing him safe and whole. “What took so long? And where are the men who accompanied you?”

He frowned. “They’re not back yet? I’d thought they’d arrive first.”

“No, we’ve heard nothing since you left. What happened?” It was unlike Geralt to leave his men behind—his sense of chivalry demanded otherwise.

“It wasn’t bandits at the border—it was Rivian insurgents making trouble. Easy enough to mop up, but in the fight, I got separated. Ended up having to lay low for a few days in Spalla. I gave the men instructions to return to Vengerberg if anything went wrong.”

“Do you think they’re still out looking for you?” Damned loyalty. While she valued it, it often proved to be quite the pain in difficult situations.

“Could be. We ought to send another team out, round them up.” She was grateful that he didn’t suggest going back to look for them himself—she would have expected that from him, stubborn as he was, but she wasn’t ready to lose him again so soon.

She motioned over the captain of her guard, Ivenka. “Take your best fighters and track down our poor wayward soldiers.”

“Yes, my lady,” Ivenka replied. The party split; Yennefer and Geralt led the rest of the forces back to Vengerberg.

Upon their return, Jaskier launched into a rousing song of victory—if he was surprised to see them back so soon, he didn’t show it. Geralt bore the attention as he always did, with an uncomfortable grimace. Once the commotion settled, Yennefer pulled Geralt into her rooms for a full report on what he’d found at the Rivian border.

“The talk of insurgence was right. A resistance has formed, with more support than we thought. King Reginald had more friends than we knew.” Geralt delivered the bad news with no inflection, which was how Yennefer knew it was a grave matter indeed.

“A resistance? How strong would you say? Have they any support from the commonfolk?” That was how battles were won, Yennefer knew—it all depended on the attitude of the peasantry. If their favor had shifted against her, they could expect full-blown war within the year.

“Not yet, though they’ve changed the minds of a few. More than anything they’ve sown dissent—talk of crop shortages, of trade disturbed. Trying to make you out to be just as bad as Reginald.”

Yennefer cursed. “We need to head this off before it grows any worse.”

“Parley? They might be open to discussion—this incursion may have been a way to get our attention.”

Yennefer nodded. “Send a messenger at once,” she instructed.

Geralt inclined his head in acquiescence and left her to her thoughts.

He had been right about the coming rebellion—was he also to be believed about the rumored attempts on her life? She would have to keep her guard up.

They received the Rivians a few nights hence at a banquet, meant as both a display of wealth and numbers. The entire court was assembled, and the visiting party arrived wide-eyed and trying to hide it.

Yennefer herself was seated upon her throne in full gilded plate armor—everything but a helmet. Geralt stood beside her, arms crossed, a scowl writ upon his face, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. And on her other side, draped across the arm of the throne, was Jaskier, in his finest jewels and with a full face of makeup, not looking even a bit vulnerable though he wore almost nothing.

“Yennefer of Vengerberg,” the man leading the visiting party said, inclining his head in lieu of a bow. Beside her, Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “I am Gudros of Scala, and accompanying me are Velah of Hawksburne and Ozrias of Scala.” He gestured to the two behind him, who had so far stood silent and still, their expressions unreadable beneath their helmets.

“Vengerberg welcomes you,” Yennefer announced. “You may partake of food and rest from your journey. Once you’ve had your fill we may retire for more formal talk.” Gudros bowed his head again, and the feast resumed.

“I don’t like this,” Geralt murmured, barely audible over the voices and instruments overlapping in the hall. Yennefer glanced up at him—he looked torn, lips pursed and hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

“Keep an eye on them for me?” she replied. He nodded and slipped away—Yennefer looked forward to his report on what they were saying.

She was so intent on watching the Rivians that she hardly noticed it when an attendant approached with a tray carrying goblets of wine. “Milady,” he greeted, offering her a glass. She reached out to take it, but was beaten there by Jaskier, who snatched it out of the attendant’s hands before she could.

He grinned cheekily at her—this was almost too bold. She’d have to put him in his place later tonight. But she let him have it and reached for her own goblet, just as Jaskier took a sip of the wine.

The smell hit her nose as soon as she raised the glass to her lips. It was hardly detectable, but she’d learned a thousand and one ways under King Demavend’s reign to brew poisons—she recognized instantly the characteristic sour odor it held, the way it slid, oily, down one’s throat, the way it burned from the inside out.

She threw the goblet to the floor, heedless of the way that it shattered into a million pieces. “Geralt!” she screamed, wrenching Jaskier’s goblet from him—though it was already falling from his stiff fingers, his eyes bulging and his face reddening in mere moments.

Geralt appeared at her side instantly, as if he’d never left. Seeing Jaskier in trouble, he threw the consort over his broad shoulders and followed Yennefer as she fled to her old workshop—Goddess willing, she would still have enough ingredients to prepare an antidote, though it had been years since she’d set foot there.

The doors flew open under her hands, dust swirling about the room and cobwebs shuddering in the sudden breeze. Yennefer drew on the spark of chaos buried deep inside her, hardly used, but called forth in full force now. The torches flared to life at once, jars and pots flying off the shelves into her hands.

Geralt laid Jaskier down on the worktable in the middle of the room, now wheezing and coughing, spittle flecking his lips. “Yen,” he tried to wheeze, but she paid him no mind. She needed every ounce of concentration to prepare the antidote, something she hadn’t done in years.

“Mistletoe… wartweed… ground lichen…” she muttered, adding each ingredient in turn. The potion began to bubble, a haze descending on the workshop as it released puffs of smoke.

“Yen, he's not breathing,” Geralt called, and she cursed, stirring faster. Finally, finally, the sickly shade of green gave way to a deep turquoise, and then a solid blue. She rushed to Jaskier’s side, forcing his mouth open with one hand and pouring the antidote down his throat.

He convulsed, and, sensing that he was about to spit it up, she clamped his mouth and nose shut, putting her full weight into holding him down as his limbs juddered and jerked. But with no other choice, he eventually swallowed, his throat spasming under her harsh grip, and then he went abruptly lax.

She took her hands away, letting him breathe—it was a long, tense moment of waiting before he took an easy breath, no wheeze present. Yennefer breathed too, the tension lifting from her shoulders.

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze flitted around the room for a moment, landing first on Geralt and then on herself. “Yen,” he said urgently, struggling to sit up. “You’re alright?”

“Of course I am,” she snapped. “I’m not the idiot that drank poison.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he sighed. “I mean, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t want to die for nothing—”

Yennefer froze. “You had a suspicion?”

“Well, yes,” he answered, frowning. “I highly doubted the Rivians were here under good intentions, and as Geralt has been saying, an attempt on your life was bound to come sooner or later, so—”

“You knew it would be poisoned, and yet you drank anyway? Why the fuck would you do that, Jaskier?” She dug her nails into the tabletop, itching to wring them around his neck.

What sort of fool would knowingly drink poison? Only the braindead or suicidal, and while Yennefer did hold his sanity in question at times, it still didn’t make sense.

He blinked. “Do you really have to ask? It’s as I’ve told you a thousand times in a thousand ways.”

No. No, he couldn’t mean—

“I love you, Yennefer of Vengerberg. I would, in fact, die for you, as we’ve proven.” He grinned. “Don’t say I never live up to my promises.”

While, yes, he’d said as much before, it still stunned Yennefer to hear it said so blatantly, and with such tangible commitment. She’d thought them pretty lies, the fanciful words of a jester that wanted only to flatter his lord.

Unable to come up with a response, she turned and fled. If she stayed in that room, she might end up saying or doing something she would later regret—whether that was wring his fool neck or have him right there on the table, she would never know.

So caught up was she in whirling thoughts of truth and lies, she didn’t notice Geralt was following her until she was nearly to her rooms. “I don’t want company right now, Geralt,” she said tersely, whirling around.

“We need to talk,” Geralt replied, stepping closer. “The Rivians—”

“Leave me alone!” she snarled, which was enough to make him pause, giving her time to dart into her rooms and slam the door behind her. She locked them with a fierce finality, relishing the heavy click that signified she was alone with her thoughts. She pressed her back to the door and her hands to her eyes, seeing the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the pressure.

If she could have but a moment to think, to sort out the mess of thoughts churning in her mind—but no, even now, she could hear raised voices, shouting, the clang of steel on steel. What kind of leader was she, cowering in her rooms like a confused animal, simply because of an ill-timed, unexpected confession of love?

She straightened her armor and drew her swords before opening the door and heading out to face whatever chaos lay in wait. As she grew closer, the voices grew more panicked, and she hurried her steps along until she was nearly running.

Jaskier came stumbling out of her workroom, looking worse for the wear and confused, searching for the source of the commotion the same as she was. “Go lie down,” she snapped. “I just saved your life. I don’t need you undoing all my hard work.”

“But what’s happening? Where’s Geralt?” he asked, craning his head. Then he spotted the swords she carried. “What do you need those for?”

She started to reply, and then—

An explosion. All-consuming, fiery hot, ripping her eardrums apart. She flew backwards and hit the wall, stunned. Through blurry vision, she saw Jaskier tossed like a ragdoll, slumped opposite her, bleeding from the temple.

Her ears were ringing; she blinked. Chunks of stone rained down on her like hailstones, a fine white powder covering everything in a thin layer of dust.

Slowly, slowly, her vision stabilized and her hearing began to return—the first thing she heard were screams.

Her people—she had to help her people. She tried to struggle to her feet, but it was as if her limbs were encased in plaster. She looked down and saw that a large chunk of stone was pinning her legs to the ground—with monumental effort, she lifted it off herself, grunting. She closed her eyes and breathed, in, out, and then staggered upwards.

She checked on Jaskier first—he had a head wound, bleeding profusely, but nothing more serious than that. She clumsily slapped his cheeks a few times until he roused, groaning, eyes squinting shut.

“Are you alright?” she shouted, her own voice hardly reaching her ears. He nodded, eyes still closed, and she left him to recover. Staggering into the hall, she took in the sight before her—it was as if a bomb had gone off, and maybe it had.

The entire hall was bathed in sepia-toned light, the torches guttering in and out in the wake of the blast. Chunks of stone and broken pieces of furniture littered the floor, which had fallen through to the dungeons below. To her surprise and immense thankfulness, there were few bodies—perhaps they’d had advance warning and had fled, screaming.

Four people stood in the middle of it all—she recognized Gudros, flanked by Ozrias and Velah. The fourth had hair as white as bone—“Geralt?” she called, and he slowly turned around. Wrong, wrong, wrong, all her senses screamed.

“Not quite.” He laughed, a chilling sound, unlike Geralt’s own rare laugh in every way. She knew then—this wasn’t Geralt. This hadn’t been Geralt for a good while.

“When?” she asked, though she knew exactly when. It had been that damned trip to the border. “Who are you? Really?”

“We are the rightful leaders of a free Rivia, and we would see her prosper once more, no longer under your bloody banner!” Gudros cried. “You have bewitched Rivia’s citizens. We’ll not see you reign any longer!”

“I’ve bewitched no one,” Yennefer snapped. “If you speak of your loyal knights turning against you—that was your king’s own doing, with his wicked deeds and cruel heart.”

“No! Geralt of Rivia was a good man—we’ll break whatever spell you’ve placed on him, right after we parade your desecrated body through the streets!”

Not-Geralt smiled, all teeth, and dropped the illusion—suddenly, he had changed forms, and now appeared as Yennefer herself. “You’re a doppler,” she said, teeth gritted. “What stake have you in this fight?”

“I’ve lived a long life, you know. To tell you the truth, I’ve grown rather bored with it—and what better game to play than this?”

“You’re sick,” Yennefer spat. “You’ve aligned yourself with murderers and oathbreakers.”

“Would you have me align myself with you, Kingslayer?” the doppler purred. “I see it all, you know—I’m in your head. I see how you kill, and lie, even to yourself.”

With a wordless yell of rage, Yennefer threw herself at the doppler, who met her swords with a sword of its own. It was an even match—perfectly even, with all her skill as a fighter reflected back at her. And with the other three Rivians advancing, it looked to be a quick end for her.

Her people would die, and Jaskier would be captured and most likely enslaved, and Geralt would remain captive to those who believed him brainwashed, subject to tortures as they attempted to break whatever enchantment they believed lay over him. And she would be brought up as an example, her dead body held up to the world to say: this is what happens to those who fight back.

She dodged the first swipe of Gudros’ sword, but it left her open for the doppler to press her back, putting her off-balance. Her foot caught on a chunk of rubble and she teetered backwards, falling to the ground, the doppler pouncing on her at once.

“Here lies the Raven Storm; blustered herself out, little stronger than a gust of wind at the end,” the doppler cackled. Yennefer looked into its eyes—her eyes—and braced herself for the end.

And then a chain looped around the doppler’s neck, choking, burning. The skin beneath the silver links smoked and cracked, blackening, the doppler’s hands scrabbling uselessly at the chain and burning too.

Yennefer looked up to see Jaskier standing tall behind the doppler, one of his many decorative body chains in his hands, his face creased in furious fierceness. Yennefer pushed the doppler off of her, rolling to the side just in time to avoid yet another blow from Gudros. She yelled inarticulately and stabbed upwards, piercing his gut through. Without bothering to check if he was dead, Yennefer turned to Velah and Ozrias, both of whom were advancing on Jaskier, swords drawn.

“Behind you,” she shouted, and he ducked a swipe meant to behead him. She darted over and shoved Velah away with a kick to the side, and in the same motion brought her sword up to parry Ozrias’ next strike. Behind her, she heard the doppler let out a guttural noise and collapse—hopefully dead—and out of the corner of her eye she spotted Jaskier trying to avoid Velah’s wildly swinging sword. He barely dodged the last one, and earned himself a neat score along his cheek, blood pouring forth from the small wound.

Luckily, Ozrias proved to be a rather weak swordfighter, and she killed him with a swift dodge and counterattack, cutting off his head in one swift motion. She threw herself in between Jaskier and Velah just in time, handily disarming her while Jaskier cowered and yelped behind her.

Pointing her sword straight at Velah’s throat, Yennefer demanded, “Where is he?”

Velah threw her hands up. “He’s in Spalla. Please, don’t kill me.”

Yennefer narrowed her eyes. “You hurt what’s mine.”

“Please, mercy—” She didn’t finish; she was dead before her body hit the floor. Mercy granted her a quick death, but nothing more. Not after kidnapping her right-hand man, her lover, not after bombing her palace and killing her people, not after hurting Jaskier.

Jaskier took in a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “Whoo. That’s enough excitement for me, I think. I need to sit down,” he said, and sat down right there in the middle of the wreckage.

Yennefer busied herself with cleaning her sword. “So you don’t want to come to Spalla with me?” she asked casually, and he sprang back up to his feet—albeit shakily.

“No, no, I’m in! Someone has to write sweeping songs of your victories there.” He paused. “Just, maybe, a moment to catch my breath? I’ve never really—ah—never had to fight for my life before. Never killed anyone, either. I think my body might be shutting down?” he squeaked, sinking to his knees. “My—my heart is beating so fast, gods, and my hands feel all tingly, and I’m shaking—”

“That’s the adrenaline,” Yennefer answered, kneeling down as well. “It will pass.”

“Good. Because this—well, is this what you feel all the time?” He looked up at her, a dawning sort of respect in his gaze.

She shrugged. “You get used to it eventually. But yes, more or less.”

“Color me impressed, then.” As they spoke, the color began to return to his cheeks, and his frantic breathing slowed, and his shaking died down. “Alright. I’m feeling better, I think.”

“Good,” she echoed, sheathing her sword and helping him up. “Because now we ride for Rivia.”

“To Rivia,” he repeated. “Hey, do you think Geralt will be impressed? Bet he’s never killed a doppler before.”

“Shut up, Jaskier,” she replied, but couldn’t hide the small smile that graced her face.

Her palace was in ruins, and Geralt had been kidnapped, and they were about to go to war with Rivia for the second time, but somehow she knew—it would be alright.

#the witcher #geraskefer #yenskier #yennskier #yenralt #geralt #jaskier #yennefer #warlord au #accidental warlord au #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #in the rare event that i write more ask to be tagged

[vanillann]

5 star conversation (r.p)

one person for more parts so i had to do it!!

reggie peter x gender neutral!reader

word count: 3.2k

5 star conversation masterlist

“This place is so much better!”

Alex was spinning in the center of the hall, the 5-star hotel in Dallas was much better than the last motel we stayed at a few weeks back.

“I’ll be happy to use my own bathroom,” Julie swiped her key card, throwing her head back with it turned green and allowed her in the room.

“Goodnight,” she sang into the hall, not wasting time before shutting the door to pass out on the white fluffy soft bed, as the last performance was a long one with a meet and greet after.

Everyone was exhausted from crazy fans and loud music for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll see everyone in the lobby at 9,” Flynn waited in the hall for everyone to confirm.

“Why don’t you ever yell at Julie and (Y/N) about time?” Luke challenged her, hand on his hip as he looked at her with a pout.

“Because I don’t feel bad throwing them out of bed,” Flynn smiled, turning to her own door and not waiting for Luke’s response.

“Hey!”

“I love you (Y/N),” she yelled over her shoulder, smiling and waving to the boys as she most likely would be out cold too.

“That’s my cue, I’ll see everyone at 9:30 most likely.”

Alex pushed my shoulder lightly, walking past me to his door that was beside mine, the same layout he always did when he stayed at hotels.

We don’t talk about the motel.

“Goodnight (Y/N),” Reggie wrapped his arm around my shoulders, hugging me from behind while one of my hands squeezed his.

“Night,” I clocked out, still not recovered from the night spent under the sheets with the raven-haired boy. He let go, moving to his door across the hall and moving in as if nothing was different.

“Something happened two weeks ago.”

I jumped, I had completely forgotten Reggie and I wasn't the only person in the hall, Luke and Alex giving me little smirks as I stared at my door.

“Nope,” I swallowed, swiping my card and rushing into the room. I could hear Alex and Luke laughed but I didn’t care enough to give a witty remark.

My wits had walked into Reggie's room far away from my side, along with my sanity.

“Most definitely,” I mocked Reggie’s voice, throwing my bag on the queen-size bed, this time all to myself and no smiling Reggie walking me like something the gods had sent down.

“You most definitely ruined my standards.”

I probably sounded crazy talking to myself, pacing the room before I fell backward, staring off at the ceiling. I thought back to the little touches and the smirks that were shared between us in two weeks.

“I hate Luke Patterson.”

I didn’t hate Luke, he was like an older brother, but I did hate him. He pushed me off the diving board before I had my goggles on and now there was chlorine in my eyes.

I lost track of time, everything slowing down the longer I stared up at the ceiling, wishing it was the nasty brown popcorn ceiling from the motel so I knew Reggie was laying beside me.

Why did he have to be perfect?

A light knock on the door brought my attention back to this world, my mind wondering if it was worth it. I was probably Alex looking to talk for a few hours and tease me about Reggie.

I rolled my eyes, rolling off the bed and prancing to the door. Alex would listen if I needed to rant, and that I really needed right now. I didn’t even think, swing the door open to see a black leather jacket-clad back about to walk into the door across from me.

“Reg?”

He swiftly turned around, his cheeks flushed as he looked me over up and down.

“You have your shoes on?”

“Yeah I hadn’t changed yet,” I shrugged, crossing my arms and leaning against the door frame as I waited for his eyes to stop darting around the hall.

“Oh, good?”

I nodded slowly, watching as his shoe tapped against the floor of the hotel hallway. I was about to step back into my room when one of his arms reached out and grabbed my sleeve.

“Are you tired?”

“I mean I guess not? Reggie-”

He gave a small smile, pulling on my sleeve and using his other hand to push my hotel room closed behind me. His face so close to me, his breath running over my cheeks and I felt myself feel like I was on fire.

“I saw this diner on the corner and looked it up. It has one star and-”

“A one-star diner? That could kill us,” I laughed lightly, trying to pull my arm back but his eyes were begging me to hear him out.

“Well I’m already dead and-” his smile was large as his eyes searched mine, both of us probably looking crazy as he stood in the center of the hall.

“I don’t have a jacket Reg,” I did my best to stop myself from going, I didn’t need more of a reason to fall for the perfect bass player. I didn’t have it in me to be heartbroken by him.

“Wear mine,” he let go of my sleeve but I didn’t move as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulder and placed them over my shoulder with a goofy little smile plaster across his lips. The leather was warm, but I suppose that could have been how nervous I was in the current moment.

“I guess we’re getting a late-night snack,” I spoke as happy as I could, screaming at my heart to stop hitting my rib cage.

“Yes!” He made a fist, doing a small happy dance as he skipped down the elegant hall of the fourth floor of the hotel. I smiled, trying to look on the bright side of falling for the sweet boy.

I quickly jogged to reach his side, his little skip in his step was making me feel things I didn’t understand. Maybe that was the scariest thing, not understanding the feelings. I knew my feelings for Reggie, of course, but why did I have to feel like this about Reggie? Why could I have fallen for anyone else in this world? Falling for Reggie meant never falling out, cause you just can’t not adore him. He remembered the little things, like my favorite type of diner or my favorite photo with my friends. He said things that made your heart shore, even if not a soul but you would understand. The number of times he had said “most definitely” with that little smirk to me was making my brain break at this point because everyone saw the little smiles but nobody knew why, and something about that made it more fun.

“You coming?”

I didn’t realize I had stopped walking in the middle of the lobby, I didn’t even remember the elevator ride down. I nodded my head, smiling as he held the door from the hotel for me, his bright smile lit up the dark streets of the city.

The traffic was light and I could see the lights on in the small diner, obviously not busy by the looks of the small parking lot and I was shocked you’d find such a sad diner so close to the fancy hotel we were staying at.

I was walking the closest to the road, Reggie on the other side of me as he spotted the crosswalk. Suddenly I felt him slip behind, his hands on my shoulder for a second and gone the next. He now stood closer to the road, obviously looking ahead and not at me.

“What was that about?”

“I didn’t want something to happen and you fell into traffic, this way it’s me and not you.”

Oh, I hated him so much right now, stop making me love you!

He couldn’t do this stuff and expect me not to fall head over heels, because he looked like that and he spoke like that, and he was perfect. We found the crosswalk, both looking both ways before skipping across it into the small diner parking lot with smiles across both our faces.

Reggie held open the door for me, the small rusty diner was definitely one star by how messy and weird the place felt. The booths had holes in them, the tables had inappropriate drawings in sharpie and the only other person in the place was an older man who was doing something illegal by the way he looked Reggie and me up and down, and a few workers.

“Reg-”

“Trust me, okay?” He pulled at my arm, smiling as he found a booth in the corner of the small diner, and giggled when I pouted at it.

“You can have the corner seat, I know they’re your favorite.”

Why do boys like Reggie have to look and be amazing? It was so hard not to confess everything, but I thought better than to do it in a small one-star diner.

“Can I start y’all with a drink?” The strong southern accent wasn’t uncommon for the state of Texas, I had heard plenty in the crowd during the show.

“A water,” Reggie spoke but I stopped the lady before she wrote it.

“A coke is fine,” the lady nodded, writing coke instead of water, and went back to the back of the diner.

“That was rude,” Reggie pouted as he took the seat across from me, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scanned me.

“Never order water from these places, always something bottled that can’t be contaminated,” I pointed to the sink, which was turned on filling a small pan with almost brownish water. Reggie cringed, nodding his head and looking at me.

“You don’t need to die from water too,” I smirked across the table, laughing when Reggie swatted his hand at me jokily.

“You can’t let me live my own death down,” he smiled as he shook his head, smiling when the lady bought out two bottled cokes and a single menu.

“We are cleaning our menus, hope you don’t mind sharing.”

She left us with that, the cokes at the end of the table and a menu in the center. Reggie didn’t move it, opening it and leaning his elbows on the table to read it. His flannel clade arms were nice, something I had grown safe with as he seemed to bring his brand off them.

“How about a burger?”

I zoned back in, smiling when Reggie pointed to a cheap burger at the bottom of the menu with questioning eyes.

“I was thinking more of a hotdog,” I smirked, laughing when he flopped back into his seat before sliding out.

“I’m leaving,” he spoke, my hand reaching out without thinking and grabbing his wrist. I didn’t think much, looking up at him with pleading. His once angry, or what I thought was angry, formed into one of pure bliss. He was sitting on the edge of the seat, our eyes telling our story for us.

“You can’t leave me here,” I broke the tension, smiling when he slid back into the booth across from me and leaned closer to me from his seat.

“Why’s that?”

I thought over my options, did I tell him? Do I tell him I wanna spend the rest of this tour having a sleepover in a motel with him? Do I tell him I’d drink brown water for him?

“What if this diner’s food kills me?” I came up with the idea on the spot, hoping he wouldn’t question me too much on the topic. It wasn’t a lie, it could kill me, the water was brown after all.

“Then you’ll come back to me,” he shrugged as if it was obvious. My heart was definitely fighting my ribs now, trying to jump out and confess everything in this small diner.

“Y’all ready?”

The lady from the earlier harsh voice brought me from my daze, my breath barely coming back and Reggie hurried to find something on the menu for us.

“Some fries and two slices of key lime pie,” he spoke, sliding the menu across the table and winking at the waitress. I felt my heart drop slightly, the woman rolling her eyes but the smallest bit of a smile on her lips.

“Fries and pie?”

“They can solve all the world problems,” Reggie shrugged, his attention back to me as soon as I spoke. My heart fluttered more once I recognized the soft Train song, Marry Me playing through the small diner.

“We don’t have a problem though.”

“We do, we haven’t spoken as much since the motel,” Reggie raised an eyebrow at me like he knew he had caught me red-handed. He was chewing on his bottom lip, waiting for me to say something.

I stopped talking to you because I’m convinced you’re the love of my life.

“Flynn’s had me busy with social media stuff,” which wasn’t a lie. I had officially been handed all social media as Flynn couldn’t do it all anymore, and since I already did the merch it would make sense for me to be in charge of the social media.

“I’m still mad you posted that photo of me,” Reggie pouted, the photo in question was when Alex and Luke drew all over his face in a sharpie while he was sleeping on the floor of the tour bus.

“The fans loved it, it’s been added to many edits,” I smirked, shrugging my shoulder while I looked up at the ceiling of the diner.

“I bet you loved it too,” Reggie leaned back on the table, his face seemed to get closer every time he did. I could smell the cologne running off him, almost making my head spin until I remember I’d been smelling it all-night because of the jacket.

“It’s my lock screen for a reason.”

“Really?” I didn’t say anything, pulling out my phone and proving it. Reggie smiled, asking me to open it to show my home screen. I did just that, putting my fingerprint on the phone to reveal the photo of Alex using my head like a drum set, Julie in the back caught completely off-guard.

“Here,” the fries and the two-piece of pie were placed on the table, the two forks and a bottle of ketchup beside them. I closed my phone, reaching over to pop a fry in my mouth.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest,” Reggie commented, taking his own fire and nibbling on it, looking at me while he did so. I ignored him, looking at my phone that was now ringing beside me. A photo of Luke and I doing finger-guns at the camera flashed across my screen, my eye-rolling into the back of my head as I picked it up.

“Yes?”

“Did you finally run away from us?” I could hear the pout in Luke’s voice as he spoke.

“Yep, I’m halfway to Ohio by now,” I rolled my eyes, reaching for one of the forks but Reggie moved it from my reach.

“You suck,” he spoke, my attention elsewhere as I still wanted a piece of my pie.

“Tell Reggie he sucks too.”

I swallowed roughly, trying my best to keep my voice normal as we spoke.

“What?”

“Neither of you are at the hotel, we thought you two e-roped,” I heard Julie in the back yell “it’s eloped” but I ignored it as I finally got my fork out of Reggie’s hand.

“We’re at the diner on the corner,” I watched Reggie pout once I revealed the location we sat at, waving him off as I took a piece of the pie and shoved it in my mouth.

“That place looks creepy.”

“It is,” I finally rested the phone between my shoulder and head, reaching for another piece when Reggie started moving the pie around the table.

“Weirdos,” I heard him speak, the smirk was screaming through the phone.

“Do you need something?”

“Yes, you both confess-” I rolled my eyes, moving my phone from where it sat, and hung up on Luke. Reggie laughed, watching me place the phone on the table and reach for the pie again. I heard it ring but simply hit the little red button.

“I want my pie Reg,” I pointed my fork in his face, but instead of being a normal person and giving me the pie, he bit down on my fork. I was so shocked at his actions I didn’t even realize he pulled the fork from my hand.

“Did you-”

“Yep, you gave us away so no pie,” he took my fork, letting it sink into the green fluffy pie with a little smirk on his face.

“I totally can’t stand you.”

“Then sit on me-” as soon as Reggie spoke he panicked, trying to take his words back but I was almost on the floor laughing. His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes wide as he looked over my face. He was perfect in the harsh light of the diner, trying his best to fix the words that fell from his lips.

“A way with words I see,” I managed to get out the words in-between giggles. His own laughs were slowly slipping past his apologies, his smile back to normal.

“Always, how do you think I wrote Home is Where my Horse is,” he bit back, him finally letting me take a bit of the whipped cream off the top. For a one-star diner, the place wasn’t horrible, if I didn’t get food poisoning that is.

“Lots of inspiration,” I smiled back, popping another fire in my mouth and laughing when he shrugged.

“Can’t say that I never had a horse.”

“Did you want one?”

“Ever since I was a young Reginald,” he spoke, a fake posh accent with his words. I smiled to myself, a joking plan already forming in my head.

I heard the door of the diner open, the familiar sound of Alex's panicked voice was nice yet frustrating. Luke winked at me, jumping as he slid into the seat beside Reggie, Flynn running to sit beside me.

“I thought you left me,” she latched onto my arm, cozying close to me with a little smile. I laughed at her antics, leaving a small kiss on her head as Julie took the seat beside Luke and Alex took the open one next to Flynn.

“You both ate the food?”

Reggie shrugged, typing something slowly into my phone he had grabbed off the table. Luke tried to speak but Reggie moved and covered the phone from his eyes.

When he finished he locked it, sliding air across the phone and pointing at it. I smiled, putting my fingerprint in my phone, which opened to the notes app.

We got busted, next time don’t tell Luke ;)

I smiled, the zoo unleashed as I read over the words. Maybe we’d been in a one-star motel and diner, but I never felt like the five-star giggles filled the room.

He said next time.

Crap, he said next time.

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reggie peters taglist:

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#reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie x y/n #reggie tag #reggie peters x reader #japt reggie #reggie x reader #reggie peters #julie and the phantoms x reader #jatp x reader

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Summary: Who knew that a certain street can bring back a love that grew in distance?

Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x gn! reader

Tags, Genre: Timeskip! Akaashi, ex! lovers, slight angst, a tad bit of fluff

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: this is my late Valentine's gift for y'all<3 this is also the last story for my tiny event so pls let me know if you enjoyed this story and the rest!

What if I’m not ready for the next chapter?

You had your hands behind you as you felt the odd urge for your feet to lead them to him, but the two meter distance tells you otherwise.

“This is it then?”

He asks, biting his tongue to resist the words that wanted to escape him. Abundant sentences were locked in his throat and they each consisted of reasons why he’s suddenly had a change of mind in your agreement.

You sadly nod but he sees the way you quickly look down as a drop falls to the ground, followed by another, then another. He loathed how you hastily wiped your eyes as you formed a smile on your lips, catching his fallen heart.

“I guess it is, Akaashi.”

Then you waited.

Waited for those words to be exchanged from the both of you but none even came close to the tips of your tongues, both scarred at how the silence grew.

Your expectations were headed in one direction only and that was downwards. The reality of how bitter it was rose to reality while the sky was painted the hue of romance, mirroring the depthless amor you had for each other.

So you were ready, at least you thought you were.

Turning your heel, he calls out for you. A tone that held his pleas in secret, he didn’t realize how he was begging for you to stay with the slight crack in his voice.

“Y/N I-“

Say it, Akaashi. Please, do it for me.

You could land on your knees to pray for everything to be different from what they are now. It looked like everything was set in stone for him but it wasn’t for you. This was a situation you two have discussed about but how come the time where you two are finally taking different directions, it felt too unbelievable at how fast time has come to be?

“See you soon, Y/N.” He continues and this takes a massive hit to your heart. You visualized a completely different sentence then this but instead it was another wake-up call to you. Suddenly, the pages in your book were left unwritten and it seemed like the love story was fading without a happy ending.

But he never really said goodbye did he?

“You too, Keiji.”

With that you two walk in different directions but the string tied on your hearts remained to the both of you as it follows the more miles you reached.

-

“Congrats, Akaashi! I’m so proud of you! We should celebrate!” Bokuto cheers over the phone, prancing around his apartment while the setter smiles, adjusting his glasses before dragging the zipper of his bag to close it.

“Thanks, Bokuto but let’s meet after this week is that alright?” Akaashi says while he enjoys the night breeze with only the streetlights to guide him where his heart calls home. He could see the way Bokuto would pout at his declined offer as he lets out a chuckle.

“Congratulations, Akaashi-san!” Hinata screams beside Bokuto before they return to their little movie night with the rest of the MSBY team. He was happy to hear from the younger boy, it’s been a while since he’s gone on a meet-up with Bokuto and Hinata but he was thankful at how supportive they were of him even if their paths never met.

“Thank you seriously. I’ll call you when I have some free time. I just have to go somewhere okay?” Bokuto’s smile slumps as he realizes just exactly where he was planning to go but he figured that if this was one way that Akaashi could cope with the wasted years, he lets him be.

It’s the sanctuary for his weakened heart.

“I understand. Don’t stay for too long okay?” Bokuto says, sincerity in his voice. If Akaashi has an endless list of the ex-captains' weaknesses, Koutaro was the only one who knew the boy's kryptonite.

And one touch of it destroys him in every possible way.

“I won’t but thank you. I’ll see you soon.” Keiji bids goodbye to him and ends the call while disregards the voice in his head to control himself going back to same route. With how many times he visits the place, he feels as if he’s memorized every creak on the sidewalk, the exact colors of the houses near it, even the positions of the streetlights that he uses to retrace his steps when he’s on the way home. As he stares at night sky and the stars grew bright making him feel like it was communicating to him. Perhaps, they knew how hopeless he was and they knew that this was the only way to mend his heart even if the bigger pieces were still missing.

The street held so much magic that it faded but Akaashi held onto it because maybe- maybe it could bring you back.

But magic isn’t real and what was left were flashes of our poor reality.

“Keiji, what did you wish for?” You asked him, your head leaned on his shoulder with your intertwined hands on his lap while his thumb traces shapes around it. He smiles fondly while he marvels at the stars.

“I wish it never ends.” He answers softly, looking at you like you were the only being in the endless galaxy that could ever make him believe in foolish wishes while our eyes were too fixated on the celestial creations above.

“What do you think will?”

“Us.”

Here he was, seated in the same place where his wish had turned into dust.

This was his safe place, finding comfort in it even if it had his heart turning into shards and as he keeps his silence, the wise lady who's known the boy ever since he was in Fukurodani, approaches him with a sad smile. A basket of flowers in her hands as she leaves the space beside him unaccompanied knowing it was where you used to belong.

“Still not here?” She asks while Akaashi meets her gray eyes with his lips drawn downwards, avoiding her gaze to look at the stars who betrayed him.

“I don’t think it’ll happen.” He says with his own orbs reflecting the same pain that it does every day. The lady holds out an eglantine rose in front of him while he stares down on it, fascinated at the colors of it. He takes it from her, twirling it in his hands as he smiles, the beauty of it growing on me.

“Thank you.” She bows at him but before she could walk away, she saw how much the boy was holding back the tears with his head down and the flower nearly touching the floor with how low he held it. She feels for him too much. She couldn’t even wonder just how heavy he must feel. He visits more than the times that she could count. Before, he would visit every day- even eating his lunch or just doing something to keep him away from leaving. He was too attached to ever leave but when he left for college, the daily visits subsided and she thought that maybe he’d given up.

It's sad that he didn’t.

She places an iris next to him and her heart stung when she hears him mention a name that is the only thing that brings equal parts of love and pain.

“I’m here, Y/N.”

-

“Everything okay?” Your friend asks while you turned to her dazed.

“Yeah.” You lied before returning your attention to the buildings and city lights as you wait for your stop. It was too late- nearly passing 1am when you had finished a project that was due for tomorrow. After several coffee fueled nights of editing and rewriting- it was finally over. You were on your way home, craving the mattress to hug you already- even a well-deserved shower. Thankfully, you already had your dinner and you just spent your hours at a library with her trying to settle the outcome of it. Luckily, you were able to catch a bus this late and relax a little by letting the scenery unwind you from your worries.

But with the city being this beautiful, it leads you to remember the divine wreckage that was once your relationship.

At first, you weren’t sure where you wanted to go when college came in.

Now the only place you’d rather be was the space beside him.

It comes as a threat sometimes, to be able to withstand the distance without him. You thought that he’d be a phone call away the first time you broke down during one of your stressful weeks but instead of a dial, it involves mastering the courage to do so and maybe a bus to actually meet with him. You’d let him wipe away your tears, possibly his hands stroking your hair and whispering you pretty words to calm you down, maybe even his lips on yours and that’ll take all the pain away and replace it with the tenderness of his love.

“I’ll be here.”

I wish you would be, Keiji.

Stepping out of the bus, you waved to your friend goodbye while you walked the way to your apartment. You stopped mid-way when you saw a man who was packing his cart of flowers. You noticed him every morning because he’d give away some of his flowers to kids for free, even bringing along his 5-year-old daughter so you would occasionally buy from him. He sees you so he gives you a kind smile while he gestures for you to stop for a second making you go towards him.

He hands you a gorgeous bellflower while you reach for your wallet to pay but he waves you off. You wondered if he gave you a flower seeing that you once came home with tears in your eyes with how exhausted you were or was it because of the season of love or was it a pure act of kindness.

“It’s all good.” You smiled at him while you admire the delicate thing in your hand. He finishes packing up and before you could even ask what it symbolizes. Either way, you were thankful that something so beautiful in your hands.

A temporary replacement for Akaashi’s fingers who found it’s home when it’s intertwined with yours.

Sighing, you went up to your room to rest. After a few minutes of being in complete serenity, your phone rings beside you while you saw Bokuto’s number flash before you. Missing his company, you decided to answer wanting to hear his loud and bubbly voice.

“Bo?”

“Hey hey hey Y/N! God I missed you so much! I really didn’t intend to call this late because I was scrolling and I accidentally pressed on your number but how are you?” This was one of the moments where your smile was genuine. You remembered the times where Bokuto had you laugh for hours during classes. You missed the way he hugged you when graduation came and you had to say good-bye to him first, having Bokuto as a friend felt like there will never be a day where you could be stuck with a rainy cloud above your head. He remained to be the sunshine- or in this case- the star that held it all together. You and Akaashi were superbly proud of him. Seeing him live out his dream with his bright smile is a sight that never gets old.

“I missed you too! I’m doing okay, what about you?” You asked him while your eyes land on a photo of you and Akaashi that was above your desk but you decided to shrug it off because this wasn’t the right time to feel these negative emotions.

“I’m doing good too! I haven’t seen you in such a long time damn. Akaashi is doing well too- he got in as an editor at this agency and- shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pile that on you. “ Bokuto says pouting, disappointed that he’d slip up this fast. He didn’t mean to mention in this early- he knew you two haven’t had your heart mended even if time has passed. He was just so used to talking to you so casually that he had forgotten that his two friends weren’t the same lovers as they were in high school.

“That’s amazing to hear, Kou. Tell him I said congratulations.” You said, proud for him. You knew that Akaashi’s future was far different from yours. He was heading on a road that held no traffic, just a simple path with no one to stop him. While yours had bumps and traffic but what made it bearable was because he was right beside you throughout the journey.

But now you had to face it all alone.

“Do you see me in your future?” You asked, turning to meet his eyes while his hands were fixed on your waist. He smiles before he lets his finger doodle on the minimally exposed skin of yours.

“Absolutely. What makes you think I’d say no?” He says looking at you worried that maybe there was another bubble of anxiousness that formed above you, while you grew silent because you were stuck in a dream with how his skin felt blissful on yours.

“Is something wrong, babe?” He asks, caressing your waist while he leans closer to you. It was normal for you to be this intimate but the burn of your heart still feel so new- like every time it happens it feels as if it’s the first time all over again.

“I guess I just got scared at the thought where you wouldn’t be in it.” He feels his heart sped up with your words. Your fate was glued to his and if his future didn’t include you in it, he’ll forever be stuck on the present when you were still there.

“No matter the timeline, the universe, I’d be there.”

But the glue dried didn’t it?

“We were planning to celebrate his new job, are you available?” Bokuto asks, while he wonders if this was a good plan to do so.

“I’ll try.” You responded, a panic sets in wondering how it’ll go down if you actually attend this mini get together. You’d face him- it’s not like you didn’t want that to happen- but the pain was still raw. Seeing him after years of denying that you were over it, you’d be lying to yourself once again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Got some time to catch up?”

Grinning at the amusement in his voice, you agreed.

-

It’s ridiculous how the city was filled with romance while two past lovers were consumed by loneliness.

Everyone was love-struck, buying chocolates and roses here and there, like puppets being controlled by Eros. Akaashi had to ignore the constant stories of his co-workers about their significant others giving them gifts and proudly presents their love for each other. He liked seeing them happy of course, everyone’s got their fair share of being in love.

But he experienced it when it became a blur.

You also had to endure the claims of girls on how many roses they got, bragging about it to no end. You also heard guys loudly gossiping about how they got the girl to agree with them on a date and this merely pisses you off because the unnecessary bitterness resurfaces.

Even if this wasn’t your day to be the happiest, you fell at peace with his jacket on you.

You stole about two jackets from him, even wearing his jersey when you visit his house. It felt like a sad embrace- like ghost of him wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head like he used to do. You forgot about it being in your closet but when you found it this morning, it had you speechless for a few minutes before wearing it and imagining his warmth. You actually stayed in your bed for a good 15 minutes just hugging the fabric close to your body, shedding tears here and there when you remembered just how much you craved his overall presence.

With a love this sour, it rained.

Maybe it was because of you two but all of you were obviously not ready for such a down pour- especially on a Saturday when the sun was too bright that when it started to turn to gray, no one was prepared for it.

You were lucky enough that his jacket kept you slightly dry for the first half but the sky got more furious and drowned everyone with it’s droplets. You used your bag instead to find a bus stop bench to avoid the rain, you didn’t have a clear vision at where you were going because of how everyone was rushing to find their own place of refuge and because of the hood of the jacket.

Panting from running, you sat down on the bench as chills ran up your spine with the cold breeze meeting with your drenched clothes.

“Sweetie here- I got a spare umbrella.” A lady says as you turned to her surprised that she’d let you borrow her belonging. When you remove your hood, she’s left to smile at your features.

“Wouldn’t you need that ma’am? I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline.” You said kindly but she shakes her head, opening her bag and grabbing the umbrella as she takes your hand in hers and placing it in your palm.

“Take it, it’s fine. You might catch a cold and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.” She says, her eyes showing you genuineness.

“But-“

“You can always return it to me when your done, dear. I’m sure you’re familiar with this place.” You raised an eyebrow at her but once you felt the booming beat of your heart, you knew where you are, because there’s no other place that could make you this week.

You dropped the umbrella with so much shock that it led you here. The painted houses, the nightly strolls, the kisses underneath the streetlights- the only place where your mind and heart agreed on.

Shaking your head and picking up the fallen object, the lady was nowhere to be seen and it made your heart pick up it’s pace even more now that she’s disappeared.

Your hand touches something while you jumped slightly at the feel of it. You turn to your side to see an iris, sitting perfectly soaked in water. You eyed it carefully and even when it was covered in water, it’s color and beauty still stood out but tears brimmed in your eyes when you were overwhelmed with so much memories.

“Keiji, I have to go.” You said chuckling while he twirls you around on the empty street, dancing to the beat of your own contented hearts. You weren’t even drunk but maybe you two were just high of the devotion for each other. It was a random move that Akaashi had made when your intertwined hands swing around then the next second he was you twirling and having no care in the world whoever watched.

It was a surprise to see the boy this open- so free to move the way he wanted without surrendering into his doubts. He couldn’t care if he looked like a fool- what was he to do? He was in love.

“You didn’t like our little dance session?” He teases before pulling you into his arms, underneath the light while you chuckled before planting a kiss on his nose.

“I loved it. I didn’t know you could dance like that, my prince.” You said, following through his lines, with a smile on your lips.

“Is it your curfew?” He asks with a laugh knowing you hated when your parents made him bring you home before 10 because of how worried they were.

“You know it is.”

He cups your cheek before he pulls you into a kiss while you closed your eyes, submerging into a pool of butterflies as he deepens it, intensifying the heat of your cheeks. He had his hands to either side of your hip while yours were lost in his dark locks. He pulls away before letting his thumb graze over your cheek.

“I guess I’ll have to spend more time with you in my sleep then?”

You laughed at his words before pulling him close with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I wouldn’t mind it, prince charming.”

Feeling that your heart was nearly going to collapse, you stood up wiping your eyes as you hurriedly open the umbrella as you walked away as fast as you could, not ready to face another breakdown that’ll take a hard time to recover from.

Not too long from your disappearance, Akaashi sees the empty bench as the rain still poured down on his umbrella. It was another day where his wishes were stomped on, though he knows he should’ve never believed that it’ll be granted in the first place, a trial is still a trial no matter how many failed attempts there were.

He remembers that there was an iris when he last left but he had assumed that the lady took it back to her garden. He knew what it meant; it symbolizes hope. Though he needed it, he longed for something more.

And that was you.

But it was always him and the street, without any trace of you.

Then there’s this feeling in his chest, a tug of a rope that feels so near- a change in atmosphere ever since he got there.

Could it be?

But what sign of such desperation is this? To blindly hope that you were just here?

It’s funny that you actually were.

Keiji sighs as he walks away but there was still that odd feeling that he couldn’t get pass by. He tried to push away the memories like always does but with love around, why couldn’t he just treasure the moments you had?

While he walks to the bus stop, he notices a figure who just got in time to get inside and when he was supposed to follow them, the driver speaks to him.

“I’m sorry kid, we’re already full.” He says but Akaashi nods and steps away from the bus as his eyes follow the move of the figure until they sat down and the bus speeds off.

You removed your hood, thankful that you caught a ride home. Though, you felt bad for the person who didn’t get to ride along because the rain started to come down harder. You kept your hands together on your lap the way home, freezing and still shook by the nostalgic the street brought you to. It was good to be back there because you did visit it multiple times before you settled in your apartment. You used to sit on the bench for hours just letting the emotions wash over you. It was like you could see your past selves that were so happy- like ghosts dancing in the moonlight. Even if it was a breeze of his presence, you’d fall in love with it still.

Why did you both have to mature so fast?

When love belongs to two people who always chose to be the best for each other, it takes them both down.

Why?

Because they were always enough and they never realize it.

You and Keiji were a good example for that.

“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.

You had to agree.

This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.

“I think so- but please not now?” You pleaded, burying your face into his neck, holding on to him while tears threatened to drop on his skin. He closes his eyes and embraces you more, cherishing the last moments he had.

You were too busy worrying about destroying his dreams but what was set in both of your futures was a heartbreak that time could never mend.

You wiped the tear away from your eyes as you felt a yank to your heart the more it floods your mind.

The time you got home, bed ridden for no reason, you couldn’t stay put. Did you want to go back there just to prove that you felt something? Maybe. But was it too late to actually go back? Yes it was. Considering that you slept for three hours and woke up at 1am isn’t exactly the right time to go back when criminals were lurking around. So you had your mind keep you awake but that wasn’t a good decision either because here you were without a fraction of a smile as you held your photograph with Akaashi.

It was a simple photo, just you and him smiling when he wore his jersey after you attended a match they won on. Bokuto took the photo making an excuse was that Akaashi needed to remember this match but he was simply doing the boy a favor just to get a photo with you.

But what you didn’t know was that there was a prize way better than winning the game.

“Thanks Bokuto.” You said before he hands you your phone back while Keiji peaks over your shoulder to look at the photo.

“We look good together.” He comments making you blush while you stared at the screen.

“It’d be better if we actually got together.”

Your phone felt weak in your hands as you turned to Akaashi who didn’t even had a reaction compared to yours, and the only thing plastered on his gorgeous features was a sly smirk.

“You mean-?”

“Precisely.” He says chuckling while you covered your face in your hands with how flustered you were while your heart was practically set on fire as Bokuto shakes his head with a smile with how impressively smooth Akaashi was being.

“I happily accept then.” You said softly with your heart went crazy as Akaashi closes his eyes for a second before smiling and taking your hand in his intertwining it for the first time, even planting a kiss on it making you even more stunned as you already were.

“Finally. I waited too long to call you mine.”

You just felt so euphoric knowing that’s where it all began. Sure, he had been assisting you on your way home but to become lovers and do that was another experience. Prancing around like fools, laughing until someone tells you both to stay quiet, to converse about Greek gods and references that Akaashi took the time to learn about- everything.

I wish I never had to see you walk away.

Both of you thought about the same thing at the same time.

While Bokuto stiffens when he remembers what you told him as he dials Akaashi’s phone number.

“Bokuto?”

“It’s possible, Akaashi.”

With that sentence, he drops his phone as his heart begins to beat the loudest it’s ever been.

“Can you meet with me?”

-

“Y/N called you?” Akaashi says, frowning at the fact that you had called Bokuto instead of him. He understood why you didn’t though but it still strikes a nerve to him when he remembers how much the captain used to make you laugh.

“I accidentally called and I asked if we could talk some more and it just happened. Y/N told me that every Saturday- they try to visit but the apartment is just far from where you two go. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as fast as I could, Kei. “ Bokuto says sighing while there was a slight pinch of relief when the setter knew that it was an accident.

“I just can’t believe Y/N still visits.” Akaashi says but Bokuto looks at him with eyebrows furrowed as he leans on the bench. The MSBY player couldn’t comprehend what was so special about the place they were in. Sure, he knew that this was your route home but what about the empty street that makes it so miserable and magical at the same time? After high school and during their video calls, he sees the boy in his usual setting- the same location all over again. The curiosity didn’t hit him but when he knew that you also visited often, that’s when it got him hooked. He’s actually gone there when he accompanied the two of you whenever you’d watch movies together but he didn’t feel just how precious it was. He figured that it was because it’s the only alone time you could get but there’s always something more to it.

So, he finally asks.

“What is it about this place that makes you two keep coming back?”

There was a faint smile on Akaashi’s lips but it disappeared when the weight of the question dawned on him.

“Because when Y/N walked away here, I did too.”

Akaashi bites his lip as Bokuto lends a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, letting him know he shouldn’t be in a hurry.

“I’m so sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. I had to tell you either way.”

“I just can’t believe it’s all ending so fast.” You said as you were embraced in his chest on your bed while he hums in response with his hand tangled in your hair.

“Have you decided on what to do for college?” He asks softly and your hesitation of an answer was enough for him as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s fine, love. We talked about this, we don’t have to rush it.” You let your fingers fumble with the fabric of his shirt while the negativity consumes you.

“Won’t that affect us?” You asked him quietly while he looks at you confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always known what you wanted to do and I just- don’t.” Akaashi sits up a bit making you do the same while cups your cheek and you avoided his eyes.

“We don’t have to think about what happens then.” He says before taking you in his arms again, your head deep in his neck while you let the scent of him momentarily ease your worries.

His own demons couldn’t calm him down.

He understands why you were so scared because he felt the same. What if he couldn’t bring a smile to your face again? What if the laughter dies and all he could give you were tears? What’s he to do then?

Replacing you isn’t an option for him but he feels as if his own value is worth replacement for everything.

His heart takes another swing of pain while he holds you because rock bottom was so close to him.

“I wouldn’t want to hold you down, Keiji.” You whispered while he’s deep in thought of what mattered more- staying in your future or destroying it?

“I feel the same, my love.” He says caressing your hair as you both closed your eyes.

It wasn’t the fall of love between you two- it was because of how massive it was.

No other feeling could describe how much you loved each other that you would do everything just to keep their hearts together and smiling as days pass by- even if it meant saying goodbye.

“Your dreams, your passion, your strive- Keiji I never want to make you wait just because I can’t figure things out.” You said while tiny cracks formed inside his heart.

“And you know I don’t want to make you feel like you always have to keep up.” You held onto his shirt as tears prickled in your eyes, overwhelmed at how you’d let him go just for the sake of his dream.

You were always proud of Akaashi. He grew into his own star and made all the wishes of love come true when he showed you how much he was willing to stay by your side no matter what.

But even the brightest star becomes dull, especially when it came to you.

You were the one to say that you wanted more time to hold onto him. It’s been a week since your last discussion- which was traumatic for you. You heard him ramble on about his dreams and how endless the possibilities for him and you felt so small. All the dreams in your list were left unchecked while his were adding more and more. He’d suggested things for you but it never settles in your heart when you doubted your own capabilities.

You are my only dream, Akaashi.

“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.

You had to agree.

This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.

“I think so- but please not now?” You pleaded, burying your face into his neck, holding on to him while tears threatened to drop on his skin. He closes his eyes and embraces you more, cherishing the last moments he had.

“Love I-” Akaashi stutters as he tries to come up with a better way to avoid the end but he was in no man's land now.

“It’s happening is it?” You couldn’t stare at him straight but you could feel it in your bones that his grip was loosening with every second. He pulls away as both your eyes were fixed on your laps as Akaashi’s skin tingles when it craved your own.

“Y/N-”

“Just... don’t say goodbye. I can feel it either way.”

“Then let me say I love you instead.”

Because I’ll never know when I could ever say it again.

It was better to say farewell instead of letting the silence drift you two away.

Akaashi looks at Bokuto with a pained expression as he lets the tears slip from his blue eyes as he covers his face, sobbing into his hands.

Bokuto lets his hand rest on the younger boys shoulder while his heart aches at the sobs that echoed through the night. He should’ve been there, to at least give an embrace to the broken boy because all that ever hugged Akaashi was regret. He should’ve called just to check on him but his job as a volleyball player had his hands busy that the remidner was thrown out of his head.

“It ended here didn’t it?” He asks quietly while Akaashi nods making him bite his lip at how unfortunate it was. He didn’t expect to see this side of Akaashi- and he especially didn’t expect how you two would fall apart just like that. You were too good for each other that what was supposed to make you continue separately, it just keeps leading you both to the same route. Why do you even come back when this was the place you got your hearts broken? Years have passed, moving on was always a possibility but you couldn’t do it. No matter how far you were, your heartstrings were attached to his and there isn’t any way to cut it free when you simply don’t want to let go.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone else.” Keiji whispers truthfully, your name imprinted on his heart without a way to remove it.

“You don’t love Y/N.”

Akaashi looks at Bokuto offended as he wipes his eyes, questioning how could he possibly say that- it sounded so painful when he said it like that. It wasn’t true but he can’t even imagine the thought of not loving you anymore.

“Because if you did, why aren’t they here?”

He stares dumbfounded to the boy beside him while Bokuto’s voice was filled with seriousness. The younger boy was surprised to hear such a phrase come from him but what he said was the reality he couldn’t face.

How can he say that he loves you when he hasn’t tried to make ends meet?

But is it too late?

Akaashi is too foolishly patient that he kept returning to same spot when he could’ve gained the confidence to call you and asked how you’ve been doing but instead he wallowed in his own sorrows.

So maybe, he should say goodbye to this street knowing there’s a bigger picture he’s yet to explore.

“Thank you, Koutaro.” He says while the older boy flashes him a smile, his eyes twinkling, pleased to see Akaashi returning to his past self with the realization setting in his mind and heart.

For the first time in years, Akaashi’s heart feels relieved.

Because he was bound to bring you back, no matter the cost.

-

He’s never felt more excited to leave work.

This was the day where he’s gathered his emotions to properly bid the memories goodbye because he was set on making much better ones when he finally gets you back.

That was his new dream.

When he went home yesterday, he couldn’t sleep with the ideas keeping him awake. This was the adrenaline rush he was looking for when he called you before you went away. He was incredibly set on getting you back even if he’d bombard whatever agency or college room you were in. Letting you go once was enough, if it happened twice then it meant he truly didn’t love you. He was grateful that Bokuto had opened his eyes to a better perspective. He was stuck on one location when you could be anywhere in the world so it was fitting to end the torment by bidding a proper farewell to the tears that he shed.

Arriving later than usual, he has a rose in hand as he takes a last good look at the place where love blossomed like a the rarest flower. He feels how ponderous it was release his grip on something so special.

He sits on the bench for the last time as the flower pivots in his hands as the stars watched the lonesome boy smile. He takes in a deep breath before standing up and before he could let go of the rose, his smile falls first.

You felt your heart go unsteady as you clutched onto the umbrella when your eyes met his perfectly blue ones.

“Y/N?”

He then places the rose on the bench as he got off and ran to you, taking you in his arms with such great force that it almost made you lose balance as the tears instantly came on when he held you tight. Hands around your waist while your arms stayed at your side at how shocked you were. Akaashi buries his face on your shoulder as he closes his eyes and just as he almost says goodbye, he found a reason to stay.

Finally reoccurring to you that it was actually real, you wrapped your arms around him tighter than he ever could. Akaashi thought that it was another day where his illusions would trick him into a life that his mind created for him to be happy but this was way better than any fictional world he formed.

“My future can never be complete if you’re not with me.”

He whispers making your heart awestruck once again as he pulls away from your embrace to place both his hands on your cheek, wiping away your own tears as he looks at you straight into yours, with his own puddle on the corner of his eyes.

“I’m here now.” He says and it takes in every part of your body to not just scream and tell him how much a single sentence mattered to you. You’ve waited too long to hear him say that and to finally witness it had your dim heart allow the light to pass through and the warmth of it makes you weak.

“I love you so much.” Akaashi said like he was out of breath. He feels the pressure that maybe his time was running out and he had to say everything before fate takes you away again.

Noticing the panic in his voice, you placed your hand on his cheek like the fragile lover you were and when you did this, the poor boy was going to faint at how you gently caressed his skin. Raising his glasses, you looked at his terrified eyes as you let your hands ease his racing mind.

“I’m not going anywhere, Keiji.” You assured him while he smiles weakly at your words. You saw the way a tear cascaded down his cheek and you went your way to kiss his temple while your lips felt a shock of electricity when you did it.

“I love you more.” He’s never realized how words could heal his wounds in a second. He places a kiss to your forehead as his hands slowly trails down to your free hand, intertwining them with his as the surroundings lit up, the magic coming back as you smiled at each other.

“Let’s try this again shall we?”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi angst #akaashi keiji #akaashi x y/n #hq akaashi #bokuto x reader #xine's world of romance

[ktheist]

saving grace | 1

muses. duke!yoongi x lady!reader

universe. arranged marriage / minor traces of magic in history

concept. driven into a corner with the new king, seokjin, offering to marry you off to a prince in a foreign land and a persistent mother who would seize the chance of a lucrative marriage for her daughter, you’re forced with the only other option to secure your freedom ‒ enter into a beneficial agreement with the man who reaped the seeds of war, the duke of cralon, yoongi min.

words. 6.1k

warnings. mentions of war, it’s cliche and cheesy all in one package

index. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / finale

x

“that’s not a reward,” you heatedly claim, somewhere in your periphery, the royal assistant flinches from your tone, “that’s banishment! you wish to banish me to another country where i’ll be of no threat to you because of the information i hold!”

“l-lady ___, please lower your voice.” jungkook, seokjin’s new advisor, tries to placate only to stagger back from a glare you shot.

the music and chatters is loud enough to drown a scream - and you haven’t reached that point of wanting to yell your heart out at this man. the area you are in - on the second floor on the veranda overseeing the ocean of people dancing in the hall - is secluded enough to give the king his privacy.

“now, why would i do that to my most trusted confidant?” the smile on seokjin’s face could not have been more dubious. though he may wear the crown and sit upon the throne, his crude nature is what he truly is.

it’s not a secret that seokjin is the son of a maid who rose to the top but it couldn’t have been possible without the help of the count’s daughter. he needed information but his status as a prince born from a mere maid, hadn’t allow him to attend the social functions nor received any acknowledgement from the aristocrats. it was you who offered to be his eyes and ears in exchange for moving into the royal palace once he becomes king after the siege.

“as i recall, you wished to live in a palace like a princess,” his voice is unusually high pitched, laced with mockery of what you can only assume is an attempt to mimic yours, “and it just so happens that the prince of aflar is looking for a bride - who knows, despite being the 12th prince, perhaps he’ll be able to rise as the king. that way, you’ll become queen.”

“i don’t wish to become queen! i wish to live a free life without my parents dictating who i should marry just because a lady cannot inherit the family title.” this time, the heel of your foot hurts from the stomp but the anger rushing through your veins allow forbids you from showing it.

“___,” he’s used to calling you by your name - of course, it’s been five years since you’ve known each other. five years after finding out the second prince’s true nature and regretting choosing his side every waking day of your life, “you wish to live in the palace but refuse to take lessons to prepare you as my queen - what would people think of the respectable lady who doesn’t have any prior relations to the second prince-turned-king suddenly living with him under the same roof?”

“there are thousands of servants living in the palace.” you plainly point out - he must’ve expected this if he doesn’t even bat an eye at your words.

“servants don’t go prancing around the palace looking for the king as they please.”

“th-that’s because you’ve been avoiding me under the guise of the workload left by the previous king,” the stutter is what brings about the sly smirk on his lips.

“my, then your reputation is already ruined,” he feigns a disheartened sigh, almost as though he truly cares, “it’s not like the servants are loyal to me so they’ll talk - they might even be talking now - if news gets out that we’ve been acting like lovers, your chances of marrying well has dwindled to zero. you ought to quickly find a marriage prospect to mend the mess you made.”

something in the way he pans out his words causes your shoulder line to jolt backwards - as though physically slapped by the truth of his narration. though not proven yet, and though the thought of having a man to call your husband would fix everything makes you sick - you can’t deny the simple-minded way of thinking of these aristocrats.

the fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. whether you’re seokjin’s - as he had time and time indicated - lover. what matters is the double-edged sword you’ve forged for yourself.

one wrong move, and they’d believe seokjin if he’d called you his lover and then claimed you a traitor who tried assassinating him in his sleep.

but as of now, despite becoming the king, he’s still struggling with the lack of support from the aristocrats. and having managed to wedge your way into the top circle is possibly the only reason you’re still able to do whatever you want.

all of a sudden, a disarming smile curls on your lips - seokjin must’ve noticed if he’s trying to control the curiosity that flashes in his eyes before he sports a bored expression.

“very well, i thank you for giving your blessing for me to pick out any marriage prospect i want.” the smile stretches gleefully over your features as the man’s eyes widen at your next words.

“what are you-”

“i wish to wed the duke of cralon and head knight of the kingdom, yoongi min.”

x

“the min family is rumored to be the wealthiest family in the kingdom - perhaps far surpassing the previous king. one word from the duke and these filthy aristocrats will grovel at his feet,” the voice you use trickles with sweet honey while seokjin’s hands tightly grip the seat, “but for some reason he’s staying quiet after coming back from the war and finding out the king he serves has had his head cut off.”

“what are you trying to say, lady ___?”

it’s the honorific that tells you he’s speaking as the king and everything that allows him to sit on the throne. his features, when he’s glowering, is heartbreakingly beautiful.

that’s how it feels to be driven into a corner, seokjin.

“i never told you but the duke fancies me. every year, he sends me birthday gifts,” technically he isn’t the only one - it’s just a formality to maintain an amicable relationship between the houses of nobles but having been out of touch with the ways of the nobility, you’re almost sure seokjin isn’t aware of said ways, “but my parents wouldn’t allow us to meet because of his infamous reputation and i never had any interest in marriage,” the pleasant smile on your lips is a contrast to the man’s contorting features - he must understand where you both stand now, “but if i accept his proposal, the duke won’t stand and watch as the new king sends away his fiance, will he?”

when the king glares up at you but doesn’t seem to have anything to say, you thought that’s the end of it. thought you can curtsy and call it a night whilst devising plans on how to get the duke’s attention and make him fall for you within the limited span of time you have to show seokjin how smitten the knight is for you.

...until the man himself steps out of the shadow without even a scrape of his boot against the ground. the duke is a man of many things but graceful had been far beyond your imagination. and yet here he is, in his knightly attire in black and hints of yellow lines on the sleeves and shoulders - a glaring contrast to his porcelain white skin and silvery grey hair yet perhaps what contributes to highlighting his crimson eyes. the color that’s rumored to be the curse of the goddess for the min family’s generational brute and violence that lead them to winning wars and coming back unscathed.

“your ma-” it all happens too fast.

he’s about to greet seokjin - whether it is with weighty contempt or newfound alliance, you’re not sure - with a hand on his chest and an uncaring glance your way. then you’re running towards him and before you know it, your arms are around his neck and your voice is pitched higher than you would like, “your grace, i’m glad you came back safely!”

you never thought someone could actually turn into stone in a split second but you don’t think the man in your arms is breathing at the moment. and you know exactly who’s fault that is - your own.

“please, play along,” in contrast to the high pitched tone from earlier, you curse yourself for sounding meek and timid - if your heart isn’t beating like a galloping horse and your body isn’t heating up like a baker’s oven, perhaps, you would have had better control of the situation, “my life depends on it and if we walk out of here alive, i’ll do anything you wish, duke.”

...was what you said but it all seems too far blown out of proportion, you might as well forego all your worldly desires and surrender yourself to the church and become a woman of god.

“perhaps, marrying the foreign prince would have been a better option after all.” you lament out loud, pressing the sleeve of your nightgown to your eyes but instead of being engulfed in darkness, you see a vivid replay of seokjin’s knitted brows and troubled expression. and if you’d just focus, you would still feel yoongi’s muscles underneath your fingers as you held onto his arm after flinging yourself at him whilst you make your way back to where you were standing - in front of the king.

pleasantries were exchanged while a dark cloud loomed over the three of you before yoongi excused himself and since you were clinging onto his arm, you ended up leaving as well. before you’d managed to conjure up a plausible explanation for your behavior towards a person you’ve never met. but right in that moment, leslie, your maid had called for you to inform you of the carriage waiting outside.

relief threatened to paint your features but you’d hid it with a dip before peeking at the crimson eyes that’d stared right into your soul. ‘letter’ you’d mouthed before leaving joining leslie in search for the carriage.

it’s been three days since then and there is not a single spot on the table perched in front of your window that isn’t covered with the thin bundles of papers leslie has presented you with when you ordered her to find out more about duke min. he isn’t particularly a social butterfly but his reclusive nature had extended to a point where only the butler is the only one who ever spoke to him. besides that, ever since he’d came back from war, he’d been swarmed with reports and the recent issue of missing goods from the iyesgarth port owned by the ducal house. none of which are useful for you to attract the attention of the duke for an exchange of protection.

“what was that, my lady?” at the familiar fluttery voice, your whole body shoots up.

“leslie!” the woman’s name tumbles out of your lips in surprise, “when did you get in?”

you didn’t even hear her enter-

“a few minutes ago while you were still snoring off,” she answers simply as she walks over, inspecting the teal dress she must have gotten from your closet while murmuring to herself about the ‘handiwork is terrible. we shouldn’t order dresses from vivian’s boutique anymore.’

it didn’t seem like she heard anything but if she did, leslie has always had a knack for going about her day as though she knew nothing. you wonder how much information she holds just from that uncaring personality of hers that allows people to feel at ease with knowing she wouldn’t tattle.

but this isn’t something you could let go, “leslie, how much did you-” but it’s her rambling that almost has you biting down on your tongue as you clamp your mouth shut.

“...won’t do. you need to dress pretty for the duke, my lady.”

almost as though the traces of sleep has flown out of the window, you’re crawling over the bed and grasping onto the maid’s shoulders for dear life, “d-did you say duke?”

an unsuspecting smile graces your lips once the realization that your unusual behavior, is caused by the news of the duke, “yes, he’s on his way here as we speak!”

it takes a moment for you to register her words. another for you to blink back at her as though waiting for her ever smiling face to fade into the dark before you finally wake up, wishing fullheartedly that this is all just a bad dream.

“my lady?” leslie cocks her head to the side, as though searching for your conscience that’d retreated so far back into your existence, she realizes she’s staring back at nothing but a shell.

“why...” the lowest murmur leaves your lips like a calm before a storm before a hurricane rages and whirls out of your entire being, “why is the duke coming here?”

x

“___! what did you do to summon the rage of the duke to our home!” your father, dressed unusually impeccably, stopped in the middle of ordering the butler and servants for when the duke arrives.

“m-me?” yes, you knew you had sounded utterly audacious for someone who boasted - and even blackmailed the king - about the duke’s affection for you, “i didn’t do anything!”

it was in that moment that the clamor of a carriage had echoed from outside. the sound of the horses neighing comes a second later. but nobody heard the footsteps of duke min as he tread towards the open doors of the mansion.

he wasn’t named grim reaper for nothing.

“my apologies for coming on such short notice,” at least he's rational enough to admit his fault.

you catch the sight of the tip of his fringes falling over his face as he bows, before you curtsy, head lowered and eyes fixed to the ground.

your mother had scolded you an earful about peeking while curtsying, “___! have some refinement! a lady does not peek like an uncivilized cavewoman!”

if you’d lived in a cave, you wouldn’t have to be constricted to such formalities in the first place.

“please, don’t apologize,” your father presses smoothly, unlike his frazzled self from just a minute ago - it must have taken him years to hone such composure as to not tremble under the duke’s crimson eyes, “we at the ___ manor, are honored to have you as our guest, your grace. though we are quite puzzled by your grace’s reason for coming here.”

“reason.” the duke echoes, it seems the only thing delicate about him is his features but you’d be lying if you said you don’t find the low gruff of his voice thunderous to your heart.

a short silence lapses as though he’s sifting through his memories and finally letting his gaze travel to you - though his tone doesn’t seem to harbor any murderous intention, those crimson eyes that seek yours render your body cold. you clasp your hands together out of needing something to hold onto as you fix him one of your schooled, noble smile.

“i wish to speak to the eldest daughter of this house,” he says simply, “about our engagement.”

that same smile on your face falters into a pressed line.

x

“my, my,” your mother laughs, royal purple fan that’s been fluttering over his face now being lowered to her lap, “what troublesome rumor has spread about our beloved ___.”

the slightest twitch on her pristine smile tells you otherwise. but you can’t challenge her genuinity - not in front of the yoongi, at least.

and to be truthful, the more pressing matter - one that plagues your very talk as of now - is the fact that the conversation pertaining your supposed blessed marriage had only been attended by seokjin, jungkook and you - there were guards but you doubt any of them were interested in gossips about a count’s daughter’s affairs.

...could seokjin be the one to have spread the rumor?

before you can even come to a plausible conclusion as to why the king would do such a thing, you’re brought out of your train of thoughts by the woman covering your hands that are on your lap, grasping onto them tightly - at first glance, it would appear she’s genuinely concerned for you, “how do you plan to take responsibility over daughter’s wounded reputation, your grace?”

it’s commendable how your mother is still able to let her lips stretch over her face as though the man’s red eyes aren’t piercing through her skull like a spear. you’ve always known she was a scary woman - she wished to pass on her legacy onto you and perhaps that was why you would always end up huffing and trudging back to your room every time you tried to tell her you didn’t want to follow such path.

her ways were effective but you weren’t looking to gain something out of another’s suffering.

“mother!” your voice bounces over the walls, “his grace’s reputation is also tarnished by the rumor, how could you ask him to take responsibility as if it was his fault?”

the woman stares down at you with her signature glare but after years of being on the receiving end of it, you’d grown a spine or two, “silly child, who’s going to marry you now that the rumor of your engagement with the grim reaper has spread far and wide?”

“mother!” it almost comes out a chide at the word she uses to describe the man sitting right across from you.

“d-dear wife,” your father is sweating bullets from his seat as he bravely speaks up, “why don’t we let the duke and ___ discuss this matter privately? it is, after all, their reputations that are on the line.”

“theirs?” your mother’s hiss causes your father’s shoulder line to shrink back.

yoongi’s reputation may have been borne by only him but for a lady, everything you do reflects on your family name. that, you understand and for once, your mother’s outburst is well-founded.

the roots of rage almost tangles around your ankles as well - but the uncertainty of the source of rumor lingers on your mind.

it is the moment when the door shuts behind the butler after your parents which required a lot of pleading from your father, do you allow yourself to feel the heat of yoongi’s eyes on you - if looks could kill you’d be dead for simply and foolishly meeting his gaze.

“your grace, i apologize on my mother’s behalf... my mother, she’s only worried about my future like any mother would,” the head that’s held up high, the shoulders that line straight and the schooled smile on your lips - does well to conceal the inner turmoil inside you. but when all you receive is a steel gaze and a pin-drop silence, you’re forced to change the topic, “i was in the middle of writing you a letter.”

in other words, you mean to say you’re too hasty, duke.

unlike you, the man has his legs crossed languidly, his sword - said to be forged by the spine of the devil himself - is leaned next to his foot, almost as though ready for him to pull it out of its sheath if you so much as move, “i thought you would chip a nail writing me one so i decided to spare you the pain and pay you a visit, my lady.”

the underlying mockery in his words does not go past you yet it takes a moment for it to register - he looked like a straightforward man based on the menial conversation he shared with seokjin and you as a witness.

but it’s true what they say about judging books by their cover.

“that’s very considerate of you, your grace,” the smile you force on goes against the normal order of nature but the man doesn’t seem fazed. his crimson eyes fixes themselves on yours as though trying to take a peek into your soul and find out your darkest secret. if there’d been any trace of humor, it’s all vanished into thin air now.

“your grace, i told you my life was on the line that night. and you helped me regardless of who i was - i’m thankful for you. there’s no way i’d start a rumor of us being engaged and trouble you further,” you begin, capturing yoongi’s gaze with yours - where you get such courage for someone who’s about to spew half-truths, you don’t know, “but that night - it was because seok- his majesty was about to marry me off to the 12th prince of aflar because i’d offended him with my words.”

“so he does whatever he wants just like his father,” his eyes glazes over you, as though picturing the new king at the back of his head as you speak. the matter of what he came for no longer as pressing as he made it out to be - dare you say, it was just an excuse to for him to come barging in.

“no!” the hurried denial warrants a narrow of eyes from the duke - as though wondering why the lady whose pleas were ignored, is defending the very person who’d ignored them. you only wanted a way out - not breathe the flames of an uproar from the nobles who chooses to remain neutral, “what i mean is, i’m sure his majesty will understand if you let me stand by you for a short while - i promise i won’t get in your grace’s way.” the last part is added as an afterthought when his eye twitches just the slightest bit as though displeased by the thought of some lady sticking to his side like glue.

the silence that lapses between you is tangible as your body screams to be released from the frozen state you’re in - you couldn’t move a finger even if you’d wanted to, at least not until yoongi seems to finish thinking.

“what exactly did you say to the king to have him want to send you away for good?” comes the million gold question.

this is it. you know he’d catch on but you’re not so prepared to give an answer. you’re not sure if the hesitance shows in your face but you doubt your mastery for hiding your emotions is as spectacular as his.

and so, with a tilted chin, you set a resolute gaze upon the duke, “the missing shipments from the port iyesgarth,” you state, noticing the curious raise of brow, “how are armwells doing these days?”

“impossible,” the frown that etches itself on his face is another kind of heartbreaking beauty. leaning back against the chair again and consequently allowing you to let out the breath you never knew you were holding, he continues, “the armwells own the warehouses. why would they steal shipments from merchants who pay them plenty just to leave goods in their warehouses?”

“the answer you’ve been looking for is right there,” the smile that blooms on your face is a pleasant one and the knit of yoongi’s eyebrows is all heartbreakingly adorable. “their spendthrift son has been gambling away the money and however much they make over the warehouse fee is starting to not be enough.”

there’s a light in his eyes that shines with doubt and with that, births the shadow of, dare you say, plausible confidence in what you’re saying.

“the goods from the shipment are being sold in the black market,” those crimson eyes follows your every movement as rise from your seat, hand clasped together in front of you - a habit you’d developed to appear small and unsuspecting, “ask around for a franny.”

x

franny is baron armwell’s alias. he couldn’t go around selling stolen goods under his name because the authorities - namely, the duke as part of his line of work after coming back from war - would catch on. it had just so happened that isabelle armwell, a lady you occasionally talk to at gatherings was sporting a long face at the debutante ball. she was spilling every single family secret after a trip to the washroom and a consoling hug.

with a heavy heart, you wave at the girl with the brightest blue eyes and blonde locks that flows past her bosom in waves. she’s wearing a light blue dress with minute diamonds pooling around the hem and dispersing up her waist. it’s been exactly five days after the duke min’s visit and over one week of celebrating the knights’ victory.

“___, i didn’t think you’d be here!” her beaming smile reminds you of the smudged makeup and tear stained eyes you bore witness just a month ago.

“why would you think that?” you blink despite having an inkling of where this conversation is going-

“well, since the rumors of you and duke min’s engagement...” she fiddles with her fingers from what you can only assume to be jitters. of course, a lady her age who’s just debuted into society would be curious of how you tamed the beast laying dormant.

to be frank, you did not.

“-remains a baseless rumor.” you speak rather loudly, hands on your hips as you steal a glance at the throne where seokjin sits, his eyes already on you, “i’m not sure who started it but duke min and i are-”

“lady ___,” a familiar guttural voice greets you from behind you. isabelle’s shock-stricken gaze that’s fixed at something - or rather, someone - past your shoulders is enough to confirm who the bearer of your doom is.

and true enough, standing before you, in the min family’s signature black suit and maroon undershirt, is none other than the devil himself. as opposed to last time, there’s a suave smile on his cherry pink lips - perhaps, nothing more than a show - and his silver hair is swept back, revealing his round visage and making his otherwise soft feature appear sharp and clean.

“your grace,” you dip down, dress lifted midair just below your hips before coming up and noticing the man also in the middle of standing back straight after bowing, “for a moment there, i thought it wasn’t you, but a shapeshifter who looked like you and attended this ball.”

if there’s anything you know - and you know plenty - about the duke of cralon, is that he rarely shows his face at balls and parties. even the ones held by the previous king.

the first time you met him was purely coincidental but not unprecedented. granted, the ball was held to celebrate the victory of the winter knights in the war. if there was any celebration duke min would attend, then it was that one. and he did attend.

but for him to appear at a regular ball held by the new king...

“alas, it is i and not some monstrous shapeshifter - i was hoping you’d spare me a dance, lady ___.” a gloved hand extends your way, hovering in the air as you scrutinize the man’s uncharacteristically smiling face - as though he’d found humor in your underlying tone.

his motives are unclear but the fact that you have his attention must mean your lead has lead to a fruitful discovery.

“why, this will pour oil to the flames,” you murmur under your breath - low enough for only him to hear and yet slip your own hand in his.

“so you’re friends with lady armwell,” the mellow tune of the cello pours into the room as a new song begins.

the feeling of the hand on your waist is unsettlingly gentle and careful - almost as though he’s fearful that your bones may break if he held on tighter.

“she only tearfully told me about the her brother’s unmanageable gambling habits, the information i gave you was out of my own findings - i can find out a plenty of many things for your grace if you choose to help me shake his majesty’s eyes off me,” you search for those crimson eyes as he twirls you around once, “i trust it’s been helpful to your grace, but if you are still unconvinced of my expertise-”

the bells of chuckles that drums in your ears are the last thing you expect to hear - quite frankly, the chances of gaining a threat for whatever reason is much higher than bearing witness to the duke’s laughter.

“there’s no need,” this time, his hair doesn’t brush over his eyebrows when he shakes his head, “you’ll make a fine fiance, ___.”

the lack of honorific doesn’t entirely go past you but that isn’t a material matter at the moment.

did he just said... fiance?

“your grace, unless my ears are-”

“yoongi.”

“p-pardon?” the warmth on your hip and hand seeps into you as he directs your body to move with the melody of the instruments, reminding you that there are hundred pairs of eyes on you and if the lady were to stop dancing all of a sudden, then there is no doubt of a new kind of rumor surfacing.

but judging from the way he dips his head and his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear, you can almost hear the squeals and gossip that will fill tomorrow’s tea party, “since we’re engaged, shouldn’t we at least call each other by our names?”

words die in your throat, as does the music. you barely notice the hands that held you falling away as you watch the man take a step backwards and lower his head - so much for formalities after deciding to forego it just five seconds ago.

“i’ll send a letter tomorrow notifying my visit in three day’s time.” with that, you’re left staring like a fool at the black and red insignia engraved on the back of his jacket.

it is a moment later that isabelle and the other ladies begin to crowd you, that you finally come to your senses.

“it it true? you’re engaged to the duke of cralon?” lady irene’s beaming smile is far too close for your liking.

“calm down, lady irene. don’t make a-”

before lady krystal manages to finish her sentence, you already find yourself slipping past bodies and out of the ball room. your destination is unclear but you saw yoongi take a left and that could only mean that he’s heading towards the garden instead of the double doors of the exit.

lights line the tall walls surrounding the palace but you wouldn’t have spot the grey locks that appear almost white if not for the moonlight. the crimson dragons on either side of the shield symbolizes the min family’s pledge to protect the crown. the fact that he’s wearing this and not the official knight outwear means he’s not here as the head knight but as a-

“your grace,” you send a prayer to the goddess for the sternness in your tone but it easily dwindles down and hits the ground as you’re met with the echoing footsteps of the duke who doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

your temple throbs as the image of the duke’s handsome features come unnervingly close to you whilst he whispers-

“yoongi.” you almost scream.

it is settled knowledge that the duke of cralon possesses inhumane abilities that helped him and his predecessors win wars for the kingdom, cearis. if his unfailing reputation isn’t enough, then you’ve already seen how you would be completely helpless in his undetectable presence that night when you failed to notice him until he presents himself to seokjin and consequently you.

but in your haste to right the wrong, you’ve forgotten the possibility of abruptly calling his name ending up with your face buried in his chest when he whirls around to face you.

with cheeks that feels like they’re surrounded by a thousand suns, you quickly clear your throat after taking one step back. his raised eyebrow, however, tells you he thinks nothing of the minor mishap just now.

still, you meet yoongi’s gaze with a pair of knitted brows and a distraught tug in the corners of your lips, “i believe there’s been a misunderstanding, your grace,” the briefest lift of eyebrows as though he is painfully aware of the way you address him, doesn’t go unnoticed by you though you wish it would, “when i asked if i could stand by your side, i did not mean as your fiance - it makes me think you don’t trust me enough to believe that it wasn’t me who spread the rumor.”

“i do believe you,” he says simply, “but wouldn’t you say the rumor plays in your favor, ___?” there he goes again, addressing you informally, “since everyone saw us dancing together, they’ll feed into the rumor. it doesn’t matter if the king doesn’t buy into it. as of now, his position is vulnerable and if he were to break two lovers who are mad for each other apart and marry the other off in the name of political gain, the aristocrats won’t sit still.”

“so just now...” you trail off, the image of isabelle and the other nobles’ fallen jaws flashing at the back of your mind, “it was a return of favor because i helped solve the mystery of the missing shipments?”

“you don’t seem pleased,” his eyebrows begin to knit together.

“how can i be when i was not consulted of such plans prior to this?” the silence that lapses between you is no different than back in the parlor in your mansion, except yoongi seems to consider your request more seriously this time judging from the hard lines set upon his otherwise smooth forehead.

“then, what would you have suggested, ___?” the blinking red doesn’t seem too menacing now that he’s staring at you with genuine concern.

sighing, you curse yourself for admitting the truth in his words, “your grace is correct that the rumor gives us an advantage. however, next time we are to make a public appearance, i’d like to have a say on how it’s to be executed.”

his gaze lingers on you for the longest time - you’re not sure whether he’s debating on foregoing your investigative expertise or whether he should reveal to seokjin that this is all a faux. but what he does next could never have crossed your mind in the list of things he duke yoongi min could be thinking.

“i understand,” the figure in front of you dips to a bow, a gloved black hand levitating midair as a shadow casts itself over his gentle features and contrasting glowing eyes, “my apologies for acting without taking your feelings into consideration just now, lady ___.”

the title returns in his mouth yet your chest caves in displeasure. you’re not too fond of him calling you just by name but you’re not any glad that he’s back to using that honorific.

“v-very well, you’re forgiven,” you force out after realizing you’ve made him wait long enough, cheeks warm as you place your hand in his, eyes fixed on his lips that presses against your knuckles - they really are as soft as they look.

a halo encases his body when he stands straight. and if it weren’t for his abrupt remark, you would have pondered on the faintest hint of smile on his features, “now then, may i ask another favor from you, ___?”

another one? right after you assisted him in finding out the culprit?

“your grace may, though please bear in mind tonight doesn’t count as you returning the favor so you’ll be owing me two public appearances.” you shrug as casually as possible.

“that’s fair,” he nods a little too nonchalantly before getting to the point - and perhaps a tendril of regret wraps around your heart for agreeing without hearing his request first when he utters his next words-

“i wish us to call each other by our names - it’s suffocating to be so polite.” he sighs, hand ruffling his silvery tresses like a child tired of the etiquette lessons forced on him and not at all like the man that had you on the edge of your seat back in your mansion.

“th-that’s-” the words teeter on your tongue but refuse to leave your mouth as you fumble for a reason to object but the longer you stare into those indecipherable eyes, the emptier your mind gets and the harder your heart races.

“r-reasonable,” you stammer out, the flash of anticipation across the duke’s face leaving you no choice but to add, “yoongi.”

x

note. hello!! i’ve been working on this for a month or so (whew) bc i got super into historical au’s and just wanna write something without prince and princesses as the main leads and this happened!! hope you guys enjoyed it and are looking forward for more. drop your @ below if you want to be included the taglist!

#bts smut #yoongi smut #bts scenarios #bts fic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi #bts au #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x you #bts x yn #yoongi x you #yoongi x yn

[akitokihojo]

Enchanted - Ever After

Soooooooo, today’s the one year anniversary of Enchanted, and when I realized this date was coming a month ago, this particular idea came to mind. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about what happened after the story ended, so here we are. An additional epilogue to wrap everything up.

I hope you enjoy this. Thanks so much for reading, friends!

----------

Five years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. From royalty lessons - years’ worth crammed into exhausting months, to maintaining her apprenticeship with the apothecary, to politics, to appearances. From staying out of the way of the king entirely, to him warming up to her to the point where he would actually look in her general direction - because this was King Sesshomaru, of course, and his version of warmth was the consideration of not inching his chin upward in superiority. From growing fully acclimated to being addressed as a princess, to the appropriateness a princess is expected to uphold, to the wonderful, loving, and bountiful payout of spending the remainder of her life by Prince Inuyasha’s side.

Kagome softly grazed the very tips of her fingers over the small swell of her stomach, the scarlet dress she wore comfortably accommodating the bump. She’d groaned when they’d brought out the damned carriage for their journey, always having loved the freedom of horseback. She felt so doted on in a carriage, so helpless, and it grabbed a large amount of attention. Attention everyone preferred to avoid. Horseback meant she could explore as they traveled. Horseback meant she could keep up with the lot, and take up responsibility to help. But, life was growing, and to protect that life, riding alongside her partner in open nature was no longer an option. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was seemingly unbothered by the changes that came. Over the passing weeks, he let her sleep as her fatigue robbed her of her energy, he wiped her tears when her building emotions made her weep over a litter of kittens born in the stables - he laughed though; he isn’t that nice, he brought her food and snacks before she even spoke of hunger, and he was the one whom insisted upon the carriage if she were to join them. He accepted her meager complaints with a complaisant grin, his ember eyes appeared more vibrant than ever, and without request, prodding, or persuasion, Inuyasha willingly chose to ride with her in the carriage. So she wasn’t alone, he’d said. Where she went, he went, he’d said. Shut it and stop questioning me already, he’d said.

“My darling husband?” Kagome spoke gently, her voice just above a hush as she placed her palm flat at the top of her tummy.

“My beloved wife?” Inuyasha hummed in return, sitting across from her, golden gaze fluttering up to her face for a brief moment before they washed back down to the ankle of hers that he sweetly massaged, resting along his thigh. His large hands pushed the hem of her dress a little further up her shin as he rubbed the heat of his palms over them, smoothing over her soft flesh, and back to her foot where he gently and mindlessly kneaded.

“There’s a chance that my stomach will grow large. With that growth may come stretch marks. They may be light, they may be dark, I may get lucky and receive none, or they may appear unsightly. Will you still love my body then?” A part of her knew the answer, but the dominating and self conscious part wanted reassurance that her worries were nothing more than in her head.

Inuyasha fought the chuckled that welled in his throat, subsiding it with a simple huff as an honest smirk curved at his lips. His fingers stopped their massaging, eyes giving her his full attention while he deliberated on his answer.  “You must not be paying as close attention as I thought you were.” He said.

Kagome’s brows twitched inward in curious speculation.

Inuyasha whispered as he continued, “Those nights when I slowly remove your clothing, taking my damn time, doing as I please. Those nights when I lay you down, pinning you beneath me, kissing every inch of you until you’re squirming.” He proudly noted the way her cheeks deepened in color, the way her lips pressed tightly together in embarrassment as she clearly hoped no one outside of the carriage could hear him. Inuyasha sucked in a breath between his teeth, shrugging his brows as he looked away to find her shoe, gently slipping the flat back onto her foot and placing it along the floor before crossing the small gap to sit beside her. With a simple tug on her outer thigh, the prince moved his princess to face him better as he leaned closer to her ear. “Now, I definitely thought you knew what I was doing. You seem to like it. Then again, you seem to like any attention I give you - gentle or otherwise.”

All Kagome could muster was a breathy huff in reply, the heat of her face overwhelming, the heat of his breath furthermore, the heat of his palm soaking through the cloth of her dress distracting, and the heat of his words bringing her back to just the other night.

“I have a tendency, I find, to linger around your thighs. Your hips. Your ass.”

She giggled that time.

“Particularly, here.” Inuyasha admitted, his hand traveling upward to squeeze the fleshy area of hip and leg. “See, you have these stretch marks on both sides.” Another breath sucked between his teeth as he nudged her jaw out of his way, pressing a small kiss to the delicate skin just beneath. “I don’t think words would do my adoration of them justice. If you asked me to worship your stretch marks, I’d drop to my knees. If you told me to kiss them until the end of time, I’d consider myself the luckiest man to live with not a moment to waste. You have these stretch marks because your body and curves were specifically designed to torture me.” He rumbled, quickly maneuvering her legs to rest over his so he could curl his fingers over the thickness of her bottom. “How do you not realize that if you just so happen to develop stretch marks on your stomach from bearing my child, you would merely be giving me more to revere? I’m disappointed in you, Kagome. Everything you idiotically think is a blemish is gold in my eyes, and I thought I’d made that perfectly clear by now. Unless -“ He nipped her neck, and he could physically feel the way her body tensed so she wouldn’t make a noise. “Unless I need to refresh your memory? Or do you understand now?”

Voice higher than normal, shaken, betraying, Kagome responded with a hummed yes to convey her understanding. Inuyasha smiled against her neck, placing one last kiss there before pulling back with the most arrogant smirk she’d ever seen on his handsome face - and that was saying something. Carefully, he readjusted her sitting position, gliding his hand over the little swell of her abdomen as he kissed her cheek, and returned to his original side of the carriage. As if nothing had happened, Inuyasha gestured for her unattended to foot, slipping the flat off and massaging.

Kagome had to stare out the crack of the curtain of the window to distract herself, waiting for the blush that warmed her face to finally fade away as her flustered state took its sweet time dwindling.

“You know, a simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”

“No, it wouldn’t have!” Inuyasha laughed, shaking his head, his pride still obviously through the roof. 

“You’re an evil man.”

“I’m rubbing your feet, am I not?” His laugh faded to a light chuckle, delight painted in his smile, bringing her to laugh as well.

As the silence came forth, comfortable and balanced, Kagome pursed her lips, her mind still occupied. “But, when we get home, I wouldn’t mind -“

“I know.” Inuyasha nodded, a crooked angle to his grin as he stared out the crack in the curtain. “You’ll get it.”

Kagome giggled, playfully flicking her foot at him as he continued to knead away the tension.

The sound of the hooves of prancing horses surrounding them played into her contentment, the wheels of the carriage on the dirt road they traveled mostly smooth, rumbling, calming. There was the slight murmur of guards as they idly chatted with one another, an occasional call from birds they passed, and the distinct huff from the horse Miroku rode just outside the door.

It was impossible not to notice the flick of an ear atop Inuyasha’s head as his attention was grasped. Had she not already been looking at him - discreetly admiring him, really - the heavy twitch of the appendage would have caught her eye, anyway. His brows furrowed slightly, amber eyes staring at nothing as he focused on his heightened senses before assertively striking the top of the carriage wall with the side of his fist. All conversation outside died, traffic slowing until they stopped completely just seconds later.

“What’s wrong?” Kagome asked, sitting up straight to take her foot back but Inuyasha held onto her, making sure to place her flat back on her heel before gently planting it on the floor.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Could be nothing.” Inuyasha suggested, pushing the door open as he stepped out, hopping down to the dirt road. His tone changed as he spoke to the knights around, lowering to the authoritative level the prince only carried when giving orders. “Report.”

“Koga’s already checking it out, Your Highness.” Miroku responded, gesturing to the beautifully freckled and rider-less horse whose reins were held firmly by another knight. Swinging his leg from over his steed, he dismounted to stand level with the prince.

“What was that?”

“Sounded like a child. Maybe it’s lost.” Sango mentioned as she joined the two.

Inuyasha instantaneously tensed, his nose scrunching before he twisted around to face his maternal-instinct-ridden wife, his finger pointed at her sternly as she was just about to climb out. “No.”

“What!?” Kagome responded defensively.

“No.” Inuyasha chuckled.

“But -“

“No.”

“I want to help!”

“Nothing’s even been confirmed yet! Sit!”

Kagome dropped her butt to sit in the entry, feet propped on the top step as she crossed her arms with a pouty huff.

“I heard something else.” He mentioned, turning his attention back to his aides and the two other guards that stood by. “Something quick. Maybe large; it’s hard to tell.” The prince leaned closer to quietly whisper the rest to those involved so as not to upset Kagome. “But, I smell blood.”

“Probably why Koga rushed off so quickly.” Miroku nodded understandingly.

“Maybe he should have backup just in case.” Sango offered.

“No. Not yet. His instincts are sharp; he wouldn’t have gone on his own if he didn’t feel like he could handle it. He’ll signal if he needs somebody.”

“And, if he doesn’t?” Sango countered.

“He’s got five minutes.” Inuyasha sighed.

The prince was fully prepared to follow Koga’s scent into the forest if his allotted time had run out, leaving the rest to protect his princess if anything happened. His sword was already along his hip, his senses were attuned to his surroundings, and as he leaned against the side of the carriage, his shoulder resting against Kagome’s thigh, he counted down the minutes. No signal was sent as of yet, and his golden eyes were trained in the direction he’d gone. 

He’d heard walking coming through an unmarked trail in the woods, the smell of blood growing more prominent, but as it all came closer, Inuyasha could easily tell it wasn’t a large amount. It was there, but no one was bleeding out, nor were they about to see a gruesome scene. 

Koga emerged onto the path carrying a small boy, little arms wrapped around his shoulders as the wolf demon knight rubbed his back soothingly. The child was clearly demon, the tiny feet appearing at the bottom of his pants padded like paws, and the tail poking through bushy, slightly frazzled, and speaking of his anxiety.

“Little guy got snagged by a hunting trap.” Koga mentioned as Inuyasha stood up straight, alert. “His leg’s hurt.”

With a deep sigh, Kagome carefully maneuvered her way down the steps, adjusting her scarlet dress as she reached the ground, and walked toward Koga cautiously. The last thing she wanted was to approach quickly and startle the little boy further. She stopped with room to spare, curving toward Koga’s side so she could see the child’s face as he peeked from the crook of Koga’s neck.

“Hi there.” Kagome smiled warmly, her brown eyes meeting his green. “My name’s Kagome. What’s yours?”

He didn’t respond, his small hands not yet releasing their grip on the guard’s coat.

“He hasn’t spoken.” Koga mentioned. “I tried getting his name earlier.”

“Oh, well that’s alright.” She sweetly assured. “You must be frightened. I promise you, not a soul here will hurt you. We only mean to help. And, I’ve got a few things with me that might make your leg feel better. Would it be okay if I took a quick look?”

The young boy apprehensively nodded, and Kagome carefully pulled up the dirtied leg of his pants, eyeing the wound that marred the flesh above his ankle. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t broken, so she imagined it must have been a rope snare that caught him. Rope that was coarse, tattered, and tightened at a bad angle to inflict this sort of damage. Something definitely meant for an animal.

“You poor thing.” Kagome breathed. “May I bandage it for you?”

With less hesitation this time, he nodded again.

“Would you like to come with me, or would you be more comfortable with Koga holding you while I did it?”

He reached for her, finally releasing his grip on the knight, and she’d be a rotten liar if she denied that her heart sputtered heavily within her chest at the adorable action. He nestled into her arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as he gripped the back of her neck, his copper hair tickling her cheek but nothing she minded in the least as she carried him back toward the carriage. The guards were kind enough to give them space as she made her way toward the back, seeking out the small case with her supplies.

“I’ve got it.” Inuyasha offered, gently pushing her hand aside so he could un-wedge it from between the other luggage they’d brought along.

Kagome grinned, happily accepting his help as she sauntered back to the entry of the carriage, softly setting the young boy down on the bottom step where she sat on her knees before him, pulling the length of her dress out from beneath her.

“Your High-“

“Hush.” She kindly silenced a guard, having already expected someone to speak up.

“Would you like my jacket to kneel on?” He offered again.

“Absolutely not.” She declined with the hint of humor on her tongue, shaking her head.

“You should know well by now that a forest nymph doesn’t mind getting a little dirty.” Her husband said, setting the case down beside her as he softly patted the top of her head. She thanked him as he stepped back, opening it up to seek out the ointment she’d need.

As she went to push the pants up the little boy’s leg to reveal the injured flesh, she noticed the wide, curious eyes that were set on her, his lips parted in silent awe.

“What? Are you okay?” Kagome hastily inquired. He only widened his eyes further bringing her to nervously giggle. “What?”

In the smallest whisper, the boy asked, “Are you a princess?”

Kagome sighed heavily, relieved, hanging her head as she chuckled. She let the question sit for a moment as she breathed in, leveling her eyes with him once more as she smiled. “Only by marriage.”

“Which means, yes.” Inuyasha spoke as he crouched down beside her, his tone husky but the amusement evident. “She is a princess.”

The tiniest of gasps was heard from the child as he then evaluated the man next to her, his short, tousled, light hair, his attire that dressed him much like the guards but with an air of authority, his very close proximity of the one already announced as a royal that no commoner in their right mind would ever be in. Unless they were royalty, as well.

“This is my husband, Inuyasha.” Kagome introduced.

“Wow.” The kid speculated, green eyes bright, and his voice finally being heard. “I’ve never met royals before. Are you from around here? Do you have a large castle? Why aren’t you wearing crowns? Do you have a different crown for every day of the week? No, of course not, because you aren’t wearing one right now. Unless they’re just too heavy. They must be heavy. Are they heavy?”

The both of them laughed lightly, Kagome’s long, dark hair swinging to the front of her shoulders as she tried to hide her humor by ducking her head; especially since Inuyasha’s initial expression in reaction was slightly taken aback, slightly dumbfounded - most likely due to the sudden, talkative nature the boy presented.

“Well?” He prodded, earnestly waiting for an answer to each question.

“Oh, uh -“ The prince scrunched his nose, deliberating on where to begin, hoping he remembered it all. “We’re from a kingdom quite a ways away. We only wear our crowns on special occasions. We’ve only got one each and they’re honestly pretty light, but that’s just the way ours are designed. My brother’s is ridiculously heavy; it’s almost stupid. And, uh -“

“Oh, the castle.” Kagome reminded.

“Ah, yes. Um, yeah, I guess it’s pretty big.” He shrugged modestly. “I’ve seen smaller - I’ve seen larger.”

“But, then what are you doing here?” The young boy inquired, his expression twisted in confusion.

“We’re actually just passing through.” Kagome answered, finally getting to work and pushing his pants out of her way.

“Yes, and it was intended to be done discreetly. So, if you don’t mind, can this meeting be our little secret?” Inuyasha asked, cocking a brow.

“I’ve been told I’m horrible at keeping secrets.” He admitted without remorse. Kagome laughed as Inuyasha pinched his lips into a flat line.

“Wonderful. Something we should have covered first, I suppose.” He sarcastically stated, raising to a stand as he swiped his hands through his hair, heading to wait with the knights.

“Well, since you’re so chatty now, would you mind telling me your name?” Kagome asked, soaking a cotton pad in a cleansing salve. “I think it’s only fair since you know so much about us.”

“It’s Shippo, Your Highness.”

“Please, just call me Kagome.”

“I wont get into trouble?” He questioned softly.

“Believe me, there are very few people who I insist respectfully address me as royalty, and they’re usually complete jerks who deserve to be taken down a peg or two.” She smirked. “Otherwise, I just prefer my name. Especially if we’re friends. This may sting a little, Shippo. Are you ready?”

The little boy nodded, apprehension returning to crease at his brow, but he took it bravely, hardly flinching as Kagome carefully cleaned his wound and the stained blood around it, gently blowing to calm whatever burn lingered. She applied ointment next, using a generous amount to coat the wound nicely before she wrapped it securely in bandages.

“There you are.” Kagome smiled sweetly, allowing him to lift his ankle to assess the wrappings. “I would recommend you stay off of it for a couple of days. And, keep it clean. You don’t want an infection.”

“Don’t worry, Kagome!” He beamed appreciatively as he lowered his pant leg. “The lady of our house takes real good care of us when we get hurt!”

“Speaking of which, where do you live? What were you doing in the forest?”

“Exploring. I didn’t see the trap. I - um - went further than I’m allowed to go,” Shippo admitted sheepishly. “But I live in the town a little ways behind those woods.”

“Someone must be awfully worried about you.” Kagome sighed, ruffling his copper hair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She heard a long, steady inhale from behind, and knew full and well exactly who it came from. In addition, she knew exactly what that breath meant. She knew the exact expression Inuyasha was wearing. She knew the exact, tense body language he was presenting and attempting to ease with sympathy. And, she knew exactly what he was about to say as she rose to stand, turning to meet his gaze.

“Kagome, you have to stay here. Miroku and I will take him home.” He said, ember eyes vibrant with the sun peeking through the roaming clouds.

“No.” She tried.

“Yes.” He countered steadily.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.” Kagome whined that time, her shoulders slumping as she gave into her inadvertent pout. Inuyasha chuckled, moving forward to lovingly cup her cheeks in his hands.

“You know better. If we haven’t checked out a place beforehand, you can’t go. Your safety is the most important thing to me, my love.”

“You only call me that when you’re trying to avoid being in trouble.” Kagome moped, leaning into his hold.

“Is it working?” Inuyasha grinned.

“No.”

“How about this: If we deem it safe enough, I’ll come back to get you and we’ll find something to eat there.”

Kagome perked up, brown eyes alight at the thought of food, nodding in agreement as her prince chuckled again.

“Thought so.” Inuyasha remarked, kissing her forehead. With a shrug, he went to remove his coat, which was what usually tipped off the masses of him having a high status, handing it over to Kagome. From the side, Miroku began to do the same, the both of them removing their swords as well - leaving them with just the knives concealed within their boots. Now, they looked almost ordinary, donned in black Bastian shirts tucked into their white pants, and black boots. 

“Wait, was eating soon not already the plan?” Kagome quirked as he gave her belly a little rub before stepping over to pick up Shippo.

“Ready to go?”

“Was - was that not the plan?” She tried again as amusement caused his grin to grow wide - though he clearly attempted to hide it.

“I’ll be back, princess.” He said, avoiding her audacious glare. “Let’s go, Miroku.”

“Coming.” The aide snickered, jogging over, giving Kagome’s belly a playful rub, then hastily catching up to the prince as her expression was redirected toward him.

“Goodbye, Kagome! Thank you for bandaging me up!” Shippo called, waving from his new seat atop Inuyasha’s shoulders.

She gave a meager wave to the boy, breathing out defeatedly as Koga and Sango approached at her sides.

“There’s a quarter demon child growing inside of me, and he made eating seem conditional.” Kagome said.

“I’m going to be surprised if he survives this.” Koga mentioned forwardly.

“Me too.” She agreed as Sango laughed.

—

“So, did I hear correctly? Your name is Shippo?” Inuyasha asked, securely holding the boy by his thighs so as to not agitate his injury. The child’s small hands were lightly placed on the sides of the prince’s head, just below his ears.

“You did.” He confirmed brightly.

“Well, Shippo, am I going in the right direction? You’ll have to lead us.” The prince said, though it wasn’t all that true. Once they'd passed a certain point of shrubbery in the forest, he’d begun to smell the life of a town nearby. He just wanted to give the boy the authority, knowing it usually boosted a child’s confidence, and he figured there was no harm in which since Shippo had had a bit of a rough time earlier.

“I think so.” Shippo said, almost unsurely. He hadn’t been this far out alone before, but he could detect the scent of dinners being made in homes a little further off, so he relied on that sense. “Maybe a little to the left passed that tree.”

Inuyasha chuckled softly, doing as he said.

“Why did you guys take off your jackets and swords? If you told the princess you’re worried about unexpected danger, isn’t heading off without your swords kind of, I don’t know, the opposite of what you should do?”

Miroku laughed, “If a knight only relied on his weapon, he’d be useless.”

“Aside from that,” Inuyasha spoke. “I mentioned we’d wanted to stay under the radar. The more casual we look, the better.”

“No one around here has a carriage. Not like yours, at least. If you thought your clothes were the only dead giveaway, think again.” Shippo slighted.

“No one around here will see the carriage.” Inuyasha retorted.

“Oh, good point.”

“Think you can hold onto this secret of ours? At least until we leave?”

“How long will that be?” Shippo inquired innocently.

“How long can you go?” Inuyasha laughed.

“Five minutes?” He asked more than stated.

“So much for bringing Kagome through for food.” Miroku chuckled, causing Inuyasha to grimace nervously at his fate.

“Oh! When I left to explore, Kikyo was making banana bread! It should be done by now; I’m sure she’d be more than happy to send you off with some! The princess will love it!”

Inuyasha and Miroku both perked, slowly turning to look at each other with peculiar, suspicious expressions. Slowly, the two began shaking their heads to dismiss the incredulous idea, silently mouthing, “No” back and forth to each other from the total disbelief.

“Is - uh - is Kikyo your mother?” Miroku asked.

“No, I don’t have a mother.” Shippo shook his head. “Kikyo’s the lady of the house. She brings in those who have been orphaned and takes good care of us! There’s five children living there right now. I’m the only boy, so that obviously makes me the man of the house.”

“And, has Kikyo always been part of your town?” Inuyasha questioned.

“I don’t know, I’m only six.” The boy shrugged, his attention diverting as he slightly bounced atop the prince’s shoulders. “Oh, I know where we are! Take a left at that broken tree and we’ll be able to see everything!”

Sure enough, just down the slope of the hill they stood on came the sight of a small, homely town. The streets were paved with cobblestone, houses in stable structure, closely knit together with little fenced yards, expanding out into the distant countryside where farmers grew their crops. It seemed to be a thriving community; wholesome and beautiful.

Carefully, they made their way down, and Inuyasha gave a gentle reminder to Shippo to keep their secret to the best of his abilities. The boy gave an enthusiastic nod, gesturing that he’d zipped his mouth shut, which all but disappeared the moment a woman waved to the young child and he shouted a boisterous greeting back at her.

“Who are your friends? I’ve never seen you lot around here.” She mentioned with a grin. Inuyasha sucked in an anticipating breath, holding it as he tensed, and he could tell Shippo easily almost slipped his tongue.

“Oh, this is -“ He froze, correcting himself. “Actually, I don’t know who they are. They just helped me get back here. I had a bit of an accident.”

“I’m Miroku.” Inuyasha’s aide friendly offered with a slight bow of his head, keeping the suspicion from the woman to a minimum. He pointed to Inuyasha with his thumb, “This is my friend, Koga. We were passing through when we found the little guy and thought it best to see him home.”

Inuyasha almost deadpanned, catching himself before it was made obvious. For the past six years, whenever they played incognito, which really wasn’t all that often, that was the name he was forced to go by. He honestly shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever live that moment in his life down. Miroku gave him a smug grin, waving goodbye to the lady as she commented on their kindness and let them be on their way.

“Take a right at that street and it’ll be the third house on the left. With the vegetable garden out front.” Shippo guided as they carried on.

The smell of food was alight in the district, fires burning in stoves, vegetables being diced. They passed a little bar on their way and Inuyasha crinkled his nose at the harsh aroma of hard liquor fuming through the cracks of the door, the sound of clinking glasses and intoxicated laughter meeting his sensitive ears. The town seemed, for the most part, safe from what he could tell; lively, the streets still inhabiting plenty of people as they walked with groceries or finished up their days. A group of teen girls stared, whispering to each other in a small huddle, and as the two men turned their heads, noticing them, the girls shyly waved, giggling madly and ducking their heads to hide their blushes.

“Ah, I’ve still got it.” Miroku remarked proudly, waving back at them.

“Got what?” Shippo asked, naive.

“Charm, good looks -“

“A big ego.” Inuyasha interjected, chuckling.

“Yikes.” Miroku responded semi-dramatically, laughing.

The fence outside Shippo’s house was modest and homemade, each wooden post sized differently, uneven, and some standing just slightly crooked, all of which was secured together with some sturdy rope to divide their property from their neighbors’. Inuyasha couldn’t help but smile at the humble allure of it all. From the outside, the house seemed quaint and spacious. He couldn’t give fair judgement just yet, but he sensed, overall, orphans had a good home, a good opportunity here.

“Just go on in; it’s open.” Shippo welcomed, resting his chin atop Inuyasha’s head.

Respectfully, Inuyasha gave a couple sturdy knocks before twisting the doorknob to walk through. The scent of baking bread from outside was wonderful, but his nose was delighted at how powerful the aroma became just in the entryway. Along with that, there was food cooking. Plenty of it. There was slight chatter from distant rooms, rustic decor, and beneath it all lingered a very, very faint yet familiar scent.

Small feet pattered along the floor in their direction, a young girl looking to be about ten years old appearing in the open doorway at the far, left corner of the entry room, a well-used apron tied around her waist to protect her overdress. A small smile on her lips welcomed them, her eyes traveling over them as she quietly inspected the two strangers before her expression faltered at the sight of Shippo on Inuyasha’s shoulders.

“Shippo, there you are. Where have you been? You know you’re not supposed to be gone for so long, no less on your own. Kikyo was about to head out searching for you.” She spoke, half lecturing - half concerned.

“I didn’t mean to.” Shippo defended. “I - uh - had a bit of an accident. But, some new friends helped me and brought me back.”

Inuyasha raised the small boy over his head, carefully holding him in his arms as he kneeled down before the girl. “He actually got snagged in a hunting trap. Poor guy didn’t see the damned thing, and his leg got caught. We got him fixed up, but he needs to stay off of it for a little while.”

Her eyes widened in shock, a worried expression taking over as she looked at the small boy. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“A little, but I’m perfectly fine. I hardly cried.” Shippo boasted with a prideful shrug, bringing Inuyasha and Miroku to glance at each other with muffled amusement.

“Yeah, sure, I believe that.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Lucky these men were around to help. Thank you so much,” She said, turning her attention to Inuyasha. “He wasn’t too much trouble, was he?”

“I get hurt and I’m the one that’s trouble.” Shippo mumbled beneath his breath.

“Not at all.” Inuyasha chuckled. “We were happy to help.”

“Accidents happen all the time. It’s good that we were around when it occurred.” Miroku added. “Who knows how long he would have been stuck there until someone found him.”

“We can’t thank you enough.” She smiled, moving to take Shippo from Inuyasha’s gentle hold. “Can I get you something in return? A glass of water for your journey back from where you came from? Food? I’m afraid dinner isn’t done yet, but we have baked goods. I made cookies from scratch!”

“Don’t eat those.” Shippo murmured, shaking his head at the prince.

“Don’t listen to him.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You owe us nothing.” He grinned crookedly, still kneeling before her. There was a tingle in his stomach, his senses, his mind still focusing on that tiny, recognizable scent. There was no way he could leave here until he investigated it, and the thought had that nervous jitter unraveling his abdomen all at once. “If - if it’s not too much to ask, may I meet this Kikyo? Just to let her know, myself, what happened.”

“Of course.” The girl smiled happily, leading them off. “She’s in the kitchen. This way.”

Inuyasha regarded his aide with an anxious twitch at the corner of his lips, knowing Miroku would read his body language perfectly clear. The knight, in turn, responded with a slight shrug of his brow communicating his anticipation, and then followed behind the prince.

“Shippo’s back!” The little girl announced as they entered the decently-sized kitchen, carrying him around the counter to personally present the child to Kikyo. 

Her back was to the men, her long, straight, black hair secured in a low ponytail, standing at the far counter as she immediately stopped chopping potatoes to acknowledge the children beside her. As she turned, concerned expression deep, crouching down to inspect the little boy’s condition, Inuyasha took in her profile, smiling warmly and sighing out in relief. After all these years, it was so good to finally know she was okay. Healthy. Alive.

“What in the world happened?” Kikyo asked exasperatedly.

“Heh,” Shippo had never looked more nervous. “Don’t be mad, okay?”

Kikyo snickered in return, “Don’t give me a reason to be mad, okay?” She countered, grinning daringly while cocking her head to the side as she waited for an explanation. Same, old attitude.

“Well - um - long story short, I was out exploring and got my leg stuck in a hunting trap. I was rescued, bandaged, and escorted home by - um - them.” Shippo sheepishly pointed to Inuyasha and Miroku.

Kikyo’s gaze followed the boy’s direction, instantly landing on the men in the kitchen entryway. Silver hair and dog ears, a dark, Bastian shirt revealing a portion of chest where a gold chain just barely peeked through, amber eyes that regarded her kindly, a casual manner to his posture as he leaned against the wall frame, and a familiar guard who overlooked the scene next to him. Her chest grew heavy, at first sending her nerves alight but then the weight turning into something wonderful and nostalgic, as it dawned on her who the boy’s rescuers were. Her lips slowly parted but her breath was held captive, and she couldn’t stop herself from rising to a stand, facing the prince fully, finally sighing out as she smiled at him.

“Well, well. Look who it is.” Kikyo all but whispered.

“It’s been a while.” Inuyasha greeted, giving a little cock of his head.

“It certainly has.”

“Do you know each other?” The little girl holding Shippo asked, expression muddled with perplexity.

With an unsettled and breathy chuckle, Kikyo looked down at her from the side. “We’ve met once before.”

“Wait,” Shippo started, almost assertively, the hint of surprise on his tongue. “Kikyo, you know him?”

“I do.” She replied with amusement.

“You know who he is!?”

She bent down, facing him, hands braced on her knees as she smiled. “Do you know who he is?”

“Do you!?” The boy’s green eyes almost popped out of his head, his voice cracking from shock.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kikyo laughed, almost hanging her head in defeat. “If you two go upstairs and remain there until I call you down for dinner, before bed I’ll tell you a story of a girl he and I used to know. It’ll be so thrilling you’ll hardly be able to tell if it’s real or not.”

“But, who is he?” The girl asked her.

“What fun is it if I spoil anything now?” Kikyo countered. The two children gasped, jaws dropping as the girl scampered to take them from the kitchen in excitement. “And, keep the others from coming down too, please! No interruptions or no story!” 

They listened as little feet stomped up the stairs, disappearing around the bend and bringing everything to a quiet. Miroku gave a kind nod to Kikyo, a pleasant curve to his lips as he tapped Inuyasha’s arm with the back of his hand. “I’m going to check out the surrounding area. Make sure we’re clear. I’ll be outside.”

The prince nodded, dismissing him as he and Kikyo were left alone. Steadily, she removed her apron, wiping her hands clean with it before bunching it up and leaving it on the nearby counter. Her overdress, a deep, plum color that contrasted nicely against her pale skin, was mostly clean aside from a couple flour stains on the bodice.

“Did you - are you traveling…” Kikyo inhaled anxiously, a barely noticeable tremble in her breath. “Is it just the two of you?”

“No one I’m with will disturb your peace, I promise. I would never stick around to compromise that.” The prince assured, standing up straight. “It’s good to see you, Kikyo.”

Her smile won over as she let down her guard, walking over to Inuyasha and pulling him into a tight hug, his arms wrapping tight around her waist. “I can’t believe it! I never thought I’d see you again!”

“Me neither! I’m just glad to know you’ve made a life for yourself! Is it everything you wanted?”

“Yes.” She breathed, and he could catch the hint of satisfaction on her tongue. Kikyo released him, stepping back and meeting his eyes. “I never had much of a plan. My only goal was to get away, start fresh, be common. I’ll admit, it was tricky in the beginning and for quite some time after that. But, I figured it out. I found a purpose. I make ends meet just like every other townsperson, and I care for little ones who deserve a fighting chance in this world. So, yes. It is. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.”

“You’ve been safe?”

“Turns out, I can fend for myself quite nicely. And, I still have the knife your aide gave me all those years ago.”

“I hope you’ve never had to use it.”

“Actually no, but I did punch a guy straight in the nose one time. I felt like you’d have been proud of me if you’d seen the bloody mess.” She stated with a humble shrug.

Inuyasha laughed, nodding in agreement. “I’m honestly surprised you aren’t going by an alias. When Shippo mentioned your name, Miroku and I almost didn’t believe it could have been you.”

“I told you long ago, prince. I would run until my face was unrecognizable and my name meant nothing. Here, Kikyo is my only identity.”

His smile was warm. Grateful even. Her brown eyes shined of a joy he’d never seen before; never had an opportunity to see before. He was genuinely happy for her.

“And, what of my horse?” He inquired playfully.

“Did you mean my horse?” Kikyo giggled. “She’s out back in her stable. You may see her when we’re done talking. You must catch me up! What are you doing all the way out here in the first place?”

“Business. Had to show face at a coronation since my brother has been preoccupied. We were actually on our way home.”

“Preoccupied? No, never mind. That’s none of my business. My father,” She hesitated. “Do you know what’s become of him? Is he okay?”

The prince sucked in a tedious breath, hardly able to hide the way he pinched his lips into a straight line, golden eyes falling downward.

“Oh,” She said with bated breath. “He’s who’s preoccupying King Sesshomaru.”

“We don’t have to talk about that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kikyo insisted. “It’s not like I don’t know who my father is. Is he - has he gotten worse?”

“We’ve almost gone to war already.” Inuyasha admitted, his voice dropping to a gruff level, almost wanting to protect her from this news. Truth was, King Onigumo needed to be removed from the thrown, and unless he did an abrupt about face and learned benevolence, with the way things were headed, it may potentially happen. By force. It was something Sesshomaru and Kagura were working tirelessly to avoid, and Onigumo gave way here and there - he wasn’t completely obstinate. The last threat for violence was over a year ago, and things have calmed down considerably since. Nonetheless, Sesshomaru’s patience was running thin.

“Figures.” She eventually said, shaking her head in reply. Kikyo was mindful to subtly change the subject, understanding that he was right and they shouldn’t talk about this sort of thing. She sighed out, “And you, prince? Are you happy?”

“You have no idea.” He smirked.

Her eyes drifted over him, taking in his same, tousled hair, his healthy glow, his broad physique, the way he somehow seemed more muscular than before, and stopped at the silver ring on his left hand. Stunted, Kikyo’s gaze shot back up to his for a moment before she stepped forward and grasped his hand, carefully analyzing the band on his ring finger.

Inuyasha’s smile grew wide, chuckling when she stared at him with an expectant look.

“Is it…”

“Would you like to meet her?”

—

Inuyasha came out of the shrubbery with Miroku on his heel, the pleasant sound of content and eating horses meeting his ears. He glanced around, his strong instincts always wanting to lay eyes on his wife before allowing him to move forward, and when he didn’t immediately spot her, a frown marred his lips. Two knights stood to the side, always ready for whatever, and Koga rested carelessly on top of the carriage, hardly regarding the prince’s return. Without even opening his eyes, he pointed with his thumb in the direction on the opposite side of the carriage. Miroku stayed behind, allowing the prince to venture forward in search of his person.

He stepped off the road and into more woodland, following the sweet scent he recognized as home until he saw her sitting in a small clearing, her back resting along a tree trunk. Sango, always near her, turned to see him, acknowledging him silently before dismissing herself and leaving them in privacy. Just as he preferred.

“There you are.” He hummed, approaching before her, and as she opened her eyes to see him, the most beautiful smile appeared on her face. Inuyasha sighed out deeply as he dropped down, sitting beside her, and she leaned into his arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“You ask that so often.” Kagome giggled, nestling closer.

“To be fair, it changes frequently.” He joked, flinching slightly as she playfully swatted his chest.

“I’m fine, butt head.”

“No nausea?”

“Not lately.”

“Tired?”

“Always.”

“Hungry?”

“Always.”

“Annoyed?”

“Getting there.”

Inuyasha laughed, kissing the top of her head as she gently caressed her fingers over the material of the pants on his thigh.

“You were gone for a while.” Kagome spoke softly. “Was it far?”

“Not really,” Inuyasha responded just as gently, enjoying the attention he was receiving. “I had stopped to talk to someone. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Somehow, her voice became even quieter, hushed as ever but still conveying her honesty. “If it’s for you, I’d wait forever.”

Inuyasha’s core warmed wonderfully, bringing him to kiss her head again in adoration. He wanted to bask in her sentiment, fully comforted by her fingers roaming over his thigh and her body heat soaking through his shirt. He’d never have his fill of this woman. 

“There’s a couple things I wanted to run over with you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh?” Kagome perked, sitting up to look at him, her hand traveling up to his forearm to graze.

“Yes. Shippo mentioned a lady of the house to you, do you recall?”

“Mhm.” She hummed with a single nod.

“Well, turns out he’s an orphan. The lady of the house is the caretaker of a small orphanage of sorts. She’s who I was talking to.” Inuyasha explained, observing as Kagome’s expression slightly faltered.

She was aware Rin came from a horrible orphanage. In the recent years, she’s been a personal witness to her health struggles from the environment she was saved from, and has seen firsthand how the fear and stress of it all weighs on her parents, on her uncle. How during a very bad episode, Kagome found Inuyasha in a room hidden away in a library, his face buried in his hands. 

The prince’s brows furrowed minutely, his body slowly and steadily turning more to face his wife. “You’re upset.”

“Is it a good place?” She quietly asked, expression twisting in concern.

He soothed her, a small sigh leaving his mouth, gently stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Yes. It is, yes. It’s stable, it’s not crowded at all, and everyone’s well-nourished. I swear. That’s not what I intended to make you think about. You’re too compassionate for your own good, did you know that?”

“Oh, like you didn’t immediately worry about the same thing when you found out he was an orphan?” Kagome challenged, her mood lightening a bit after receiving his reassurance.

“No, you’re right. It’s impossible not to, I guess, from our perspective.” Inuyasha said. “He really is in good care. Turns out, the lady is an old friend. And, if you’re up for a little walk, I’d like for you to meet her.”

A smile began to grow on her face as her brows expressed her piquing interest. “Who?”

“Kikyo.” 

Inuyasha watched Kagome’s bemusement deepen, her face twisting dramatically as she processed the two syllables he’d spoken.

“Yes, you heard me right.” He confirmed.

“Kikyo?” She echoed.

“Yes.”

“The Kikyo?”

“The only one I, personally, know.”

“The runaway princess?”

“That’s the one.”

“The Kikyo who called you a nit-witted mongrel?”

“Hah, that was a good one.” He laughed, forgetting he’d told her nearly every detail of how they’d fought to dismember the marriage arrangement. “How do you remember that?”

“I remember everything.” She stated simply. “But -“

“Yes!”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Alright, well we should get going.” Kagome said with a nonchalant shrug, shifting slightly to her side to push herself up to a standing with her hand.

Inuyasha jumped up, grabbing her arms to help. “Wait, so you’re okay with this? You’re alright with a little walk?”

“First of all, you’re too protective for your own good, did you know that?” She teased. “Second, I’m not that far along. I can still see my toes and everything. I’m perfectly fine with walking.”

Inuyasha pressed his mouth shut to stifle his laughter. “And, what about meeting her?”

“Oh, well you never asked me about that before. You told me you wanted me to meet her, and knowing you, she’s probably already expecting me. But, now that you’re asking, I don’t mind.” Kagome shrugged again, a smug grin on her face that only served to egg Inuyasha on. 

“Oh, you don’t mind?” He echoed casually, stepping inward as his hands glided over her waist.

“I don’t mind.” She repeated.

“Not one bit?”

“Well,” Kagome clicked her tongue, pursing her lips as she pretended to put more thought into it, her palms smoothing over Inuyasha’s chest to wrap around his shoulders. “I can honestly say it’s always been high on my list to meet your ex-fiancee. Now that I have the opportunity, how could I possibly pass it up?”

“Why you cheeky, little - are you jealous?”

“Me?”

“Mhm.”

“Jealous?”

Inuyasha chuckled, leaning down to brush her jawline with a sweet kiss, knowing all too well that she was joking with him, and as he felt her smile push at her cheeks, he traveled down to nip at her neck.

“Not if you keep doing that.” She breathed.

“If I keep doing this,” Inuyasha spoke huskily against her skin, pausing his sentence to pepper more kisses. “We’ll never get there.”

Kagome giggled, waiting patiently for Inuyasha’s lips to make their way to her own, his kiss soft, grounding, heart-sputtering.

“But really, Kagome.”

She rubbed their noses together, giving him one last, delicate kiss. “Lead the way.”

As they reached the bottom of the hill, Kagome was a laughing mess, her flats practically having held no traction as she slid every two steps the entire way down, causing Inuyasha to be a nervous train wreck attempting to keep her up. She slipped to her butt, his grip on her hands the only thing preventing her from crashing down hard, and he crouched down in front of her, heaving a heated and defeated huff. The prince grabbed her cheeks between his palms, bringing her to giggle harder as his frustrated expression worsened.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman!”

“This isn’t my fault at all!” Kagome feebly argued.

“I don’t see why you didn’t just carry her down.” Koga mentioned, both Miroku and Sango staring humorously at his sides.

“She won’t let me carry her anymore!” Inuyasha defended, standing and holding his hand out for her, lifting her to her feet.

“It’s not comfortable with a belly.” Kagome explained, pointing to her swell. “And, I hate being carried like some dainty thing.”

“You’re being carried back up.” Inuyasha declared, making her snort with another laugh.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair.”

“Come on, the sun is setting.” Miroku urged kindly. They’d left the two other knights to watch over their belongings, but had to bring Koga in case anything out of the ordinary occurred. The detailed reminder was unnecessary, especially since he knew Kagome wasn’t fond of being doted on, but just like the prince, as princess, she was to be protected well. As princess with child, she was almost never to be left alone. Worst case scenario, some bandits stumbled upon their carriage out on the road, understood it meant royals were about, and hid in the trees until they returned. If they were wandering back through the woods in the dark, their defense was lower than normal. Granted, Koga and Inuyasha would sense anyone around, but it still made things a degree more difficult. Realistically, the chances of any of that happening were slim, but not altogether impossible. Hence the reason they were well-guarded, and all scenarios were to be considered. Not to mention, the prince was naturally protective of her, the instinct kicking into high gear the moment he found out she was pregnant, and his orders were very clear from day one. Kagome is never to be put in a compromising position.

Inuyasha entwined his fingers with his princess’s, keeping her close to his frame as he led her and the others through the town, the warm hues of the sky complimenting the colors of the homes nicely. There were still people out; not as many as before, but the life had yet to fully filter indoors. Unsurprisingly, heads were turning. It was one thing when two strangers were walking through, but now there were five - one of which who didn’t really have the option to strip off a layer of clothing to appear more casual. Being of common blood, though, Kagome had a tendency to not even tense in situations like these, hardly paying it any mind.

He gave three curt knocks to the door, waiting respectfully as he heard two little feet running toward them from inside. The child seemed small, the doorknob jiggling roughly back and forth a few times before actually succeeding in opening to reveal that his assumption was right on the money. She was shorter than where the knob sat, and it was clear to see she’d struggled to twist it open with how tiny her hands were. Her eyes, though, were alight with wonder, the hollow of her throat emphasized with the steady gasp she sucked in.

The girl backed out of their way to let them enter, her sights trained on them as her cheeks beamed with color. As the group walked through, Sango shutting the door behind them, they all spotted a line of four other children peaking through the wooden railing of the staircase bannister. Their expressions matched the little girl’s, and both Kagome and Inuyasha laughed lightly.

“I suppose our five minutes were up long ago, huh?” Inuyasha asked, spotting Shippo in the middle of them.

“I did my best, your highness. Really, I did.” He said, unconvincingly. 

“How’s your leg feeling?” Kagome inquired, notching her head to see him through the crack in the railing.

“Never better!”

“I believe I told you all to wash up. Not gawk and stare.” A woman playfully chided, cocking a brow as she watched them all scurry upstairs to do as she said, giggling madly all the way. The oldest of the bunch had picked Shippo up so he wouldn’t get hurt, scampering away behind the rest.

Her gaze transferred to the group in the entry, a welcoming smile resting on her face. “Are you all hungry? There’s plenty of food.” She offered, leading the way into the kitchen.

At first, Kagome could admit she was highly intimidated by the woman before her. By Kikyo. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her fair skin tone unblemished, her hair long and silky and dark as night, her posture still poised and fit to hold a crown steady atop her head. She, for one, was born into royalty. She knew the ins and outs of being a proper princess, of how to balance what was expected of her, and surely how to be graceful. The entire way, she wondered if Kikyo would secretly judge her on her etiquette if she stammered or acted informally in the least, having been raised to know better as opposed to the merciless educating Kagome was married into. Now, she could see Kikyo, the runaway princess, was no one to worry about. And, the offer of sustenance helped ease her mind drastically - no less since the heavenly smell of the home was almost making the poor princess drool.

“Oh, I like her already.” Kagome whispered to Inuyasha, rubbing her belly soothingly as it rumbled. He chuckled, gripping her hand tighter as he turned to plant a quick kiss on her temple before guiding her forward. 

Miroku and Koga stayed by the door - precautionary purposes, of course - but Sango followed behind the royals, leaving space but keeping watch. Just as before, Kikyo removed the apron she’d put back on, wiping her hands clean on it before bunching it up and dropping it on the counter, smoothing out any wrinkles in her dress.

“You must be Kagome.” She deduced, her tone level and kind. “I’m Kikyo.”

“The ex-fiancee.” Inuyasha teased.

“Ew.” Kikyo reacted automatically with a cringe. Inuyasha wheezed a laugh, flinching as Kagome lightly jabbed him in the side.

“Don’t mind him.” Kagome dismissed. “I’m sure you remember how funny he thinks he is. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

She chuckled, bowing her head in amusement as she stepped forward to shake the princess’s hand.

“I hope you never run into royalty outside of this, Kikyo, because your manners are awful.” Inuyasha mentioned, eyes alight with humor. Both of the women looked at him, confused until it clicked for Kikyo, her expression shifting to slight astonishment. “I believe you owe us a curtsey.”

“Not on your life.” She responded.

“Please don’t.” Kagome shook her head profusely.

“At least remember if you ever meet one who cares.” Inuyasha contended.

“A woman bows to no man.” She said with a challenging smirk before gesturing to the food-filled counters. “Now eat something and shut it.”

“We can’t stay long, but I would actually like to say hello to my horse first, if you don’t mind.” Inuyasha retorted, bringing the back of Kagome’s hand to his mouth to kiss before letting go and crossing to the back door of the house at the far end of the kitchen.

“My horse!” Kikyo reminded him as he ran out.

“Everything smells amazing.” Kagome commented, looking around at the incredible amount of pastries and goodies around.

“Thank you. We sell baked goods for an income, but we always make more than necessary. Please, help yourself.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head again. “I couldn’t.”

“You can and you will.” Kikyo insisted. “Go for the chocolate chip first. You’ll love them.”

“Well, who am I to argue?” Kagome gave in with a meek shrug, happily bouncing over to the cookies to grab the large chocolate chip on top.

“Why aren’t your guards coming in? It’s fairly safe here; there’s no need to be formal.”

Kagome let out a groan, her head dropping back as Sango giggled in the doorframe, used to her dramatic gripes about the situation. “Because my dear husband put them on high alert for the next six months, so now wherever we go, they’re like this.”

“Six months?” Kikyo questioned, brows furrowing.

“Well,” Sango spoke. “Six months left, at least. And, really, it’ll only get worse after that.”

“Don’t remind me.” She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the delicious treat in her hand. 

Before Kikyo could ask anything further, the five children flocked in, all of them quiet for the most part but body language screaming of how excited they actually were. Kikyo had made sure to speak to the kids beforehand, forbidding a bombardment of questions she knew they would no doubt ask, threatening to take story time away - and each of them refused to risk that, wanting to hear the tale of how the lady of the house knew a prince.

“All clean?” She asked, her smile quite motherly.

“Yes!” They each answered, four out of five holding up their hands for her to see while the eldest held onto Shippo.

“Alright, you know the drill.” The eldest looked at the smallest girl behind her, the one who’d opened the door for them, gesturing out the other end of the kitchen where Kagome assumed the dining room was, taking she and Shippo to the table. The others got out the bowls, and plates, the utensils most likely already set out, waiting in an uniformed line for Kikyo to serve them hearty stew from the pot on the stove with a side of bread.

Inuyasha came back in not too long later, a pleased grin on his mouth, and Kagome could easily read he was ecstatic to have seen his old mare again. Ember eyes immediately landed on her, bringing a comforting heat to wash through her body, and he crossed the kitchen as the last child took food out to the dining room. His large palm instinctively glided over her belly, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, welcoming himself back to her side.

Kikyo no longer needed to ask a thing. The dress concealed her baby bump well, and she’d admit, if nothing had been said to tip her curiosity, and if the rubbing palm didn’t smooth out the creases in Kagome’s dress to reveal the adorable swell, she would have never noticed she was pregnant. It was peaceful, seeing the prince so happy when all she had the opportunity to know from him was sarcasm and angst. It was wonderful to know her friend had gotten the life he’d so desperately wanted. Deserved. Kikyo breathed complacently, filling extra bowls with food to hand to her guests.

—

The silver hair she stroked was soft, thick, the tips of her fingers massaging her husband’s scalp as he rested his head on her chest. They were back in their carriage, strolling through the darkness to make up for a little lost time before finding a place to sleep for the night. Instead of the couple sitting on opposite sides, Inuyasha had wanted to hold her, waiting until they’d gotten moving again before he curled his finger and urged her toward him. Happily, Kagome obliged. Kagome would always oblige. She’d sat beside him, but her legs went over his lap, her back resting against the carriage wall as his arms wrapped around her waist, nestling his head just below her chin. Whenever he did that, he always released the most satisfied sighs, and his body was always wonderfully hot, the heat gracing her flesh by soaking through both of their clothing.

“Sometimes, like today,” He spoke softly, his voice low and husky, doing something to her that she couldn’t put words to. “I’m reminded of how different life could have turned out.”

“You don’t have to think about that, though.” Kagome soothed, kissing his head as her fingers gently stroked one of his ears from base to tip.

“No. It’s important that I do.”

“Why?”

“Because, Kagome,” She could have sworn she felt his face grow hotter against the bare skin of her chest, but the proof couldn’t be seen with how they cuddled. “I almost didn’t have you.”

“But, you do.” She whispered in a simple manner.

“And, I’m grateful.”

“Oh, are you?” Kagome half teased.

“You just like hearing it.” He chuckled lightly.

“So,” She breathed, nuzzling her nose into his hair. “You’re happy?”

Inuyasha sucked in a tedious inhale, one of his hands bracing him to sit up slightly as the other traveled up to caress her cheek. His amber eyes met her gorgeous brown, the light from the moon and stars filtering through a crack in the curtains and bringing an enchanting glow to her features. He felt his own expression soften as he broke, completely enraptured, leaning in to lightly press his lips to hers. Kagome melted into his kiss, and he could feel her own conviction, causing his lungs to tremble as he curved his fingers around the nape of her neck, solidifying their position for just a moment longer. As he slowly broke away, he relished in the heat of her sigh, rubbing his forehead to her own as he gave his answer in a gentle nod. Without another word, he carefully curled back into her, his arms once more around her waist and head resting safely along her chest, listening contentedly to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

#enchanted #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #koga #miroku #sango #kikyo #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #Inuyasha au #royal au #my writing #akitokihojo

[skylarmoon71]

Leonardo x Reader Oneshot TMNT 2014/2016

Disclaimer: I own my love for fanfiction, nothing more. Enjoy!!

"I don't trust you." To say those words didn't hurt would be a blatant lie. Standing in the lair with all four turtles around, you blinked, determined not to show any type of weakness. Leo's eyes were resolute after the statement, and the three other turtles grew quiet. 

It started with Mikey's casual teasing. You were so used to it, so when he joked about Leo having a crush on you because he constantly gave you the cold shoulder, you laughed it off. Mikey's wasn't being serious. But apparently it struck a nerve with Leo.

"Leonardo." Splinter heard it all. You could see the way Leo's jaw was clenched, and all you wanted to do was punch him in his stupid leader face.

"Raph is right, you really are nothing but a jerk!" you pushed up your glasses, turning on your heels as you stormed off. You knew the moment you got back to your room you'd fall apart. But you could save a little face. You just needed to ensure you didn't fall apart in front of him. You wouldn't give him that power.

Leo's mistrust wasn't completely unwarranted. Your meeting with the turtles was fairly unique. It wasn't in an act of heroism. You had in fact tracked them down. Like Donatello, you were very good with computers. A master hacker. Because of your little hobby, it provided a lot of room for snooping. In middle school you hacked NASA, and they were none the wiser. By the beginning of high school, you were hooked up to every police scan and federal cases. Everything and anything that you wanted to know was right at your fingertips.

Being an orphan probably didn't help with your moral compass. As long as you knew it was always about seeking our own self interest. You were now a junior in high school. Being a New Yorker was pretty much the usual. Grumpy people, busy bodies. What wasn't ordinary was alien invasions. It alarmed you when there were metal boxes floating in the streets, panic throughout the city. What pissed you off was the fact that it was never addressed as to what really happened that day. The government provided some half assed excuse, and everyone just accepted it. Determined to get to the bottom of your newest interest, you'd stumbled upon something quite interesting.

A fellow hacker, almost as gifted as you. Not nearly as careful though. At the time you had no idea it was Donnie. You just followed the informational patterns that strangely aligned with all the unexplained incidents that occured in New York. Intrigued, you kept pushing, and even decided to confront the individuals that you were led to. Safe to say four giant mutant turtles were not what you were expecting. After nearly having a heart attack, you finally solved the mystery of the vigilantes.

A very unexpected development emerged from your discovery. You befriended them. Donatello was impressed at your technical skills, and you were even more with him. You were born with the genes basically, probably from your parents, but they were created. He adapted his intelligence all on his own, and to you that was astounding.

Months passed, and you found that being with the turtles and even assisting when you could, you felt like you were a part of something great. Something amazing. You were helping people with your gift, rather than using it for your own means of living. All in all, they seemed to like you. Even Raph who probably was the least trusting of strangers warmed up to you. The only one who held a general dislike for you was apparently Leo. 

Since your meeting was a bit forced, he was weary of you. As time went by you thought that would fade. It wasn't like you would reveal their secret to anyone; they were your friends. At least that's how you saw them. Leo obviously didn't feel the same. Not that you cared. If he wanted to act like a douche then you would let him. If he thought those words would make you run he was wrong. You will be back first thing tomorrow. After you were done crying a little to day that was.

~The Next Day~

"Don't worry too much about Leo. Ya gotta give him time. " Raph nudged you on your seat on the couch as you were beating him in mario kart.

"I'm not worried. It's his fault if he wants to keep that giant stick up his ass." Raph laughed out loud and you joined, adjusting your glasses quickly so you didn't lose your spot on the course. Someone clearing their throat behind you made you drop the control. You didn't have to turn to know who it was. Raph was already standing, flipping over the couch.

He was probably there because it was about that time for them to go on patrol. Raph ruffled your hair with a grin. "See ya later kid, I'll be back to beat ya."

"Hah, maybe in your dreams!" Donatello rushed past, handing you a computer. "Thanks for the codes, the servers are moving a lot faster (Y/N)." you nod. "Sure thing Donnie, anything for a brother hacker." you showed him a peace sign smiling. Mikey was the last to join, swinging his nunchucks. "Who's ready to kick some criminal butt!" he said excitedly. Raph and Donnie just turned, not really acknowledging the younger turtle's antics. "Really? No one." he followed behind still trying to get a word from his brothers. Leo lingered there, and it took you a moment to realize he was staring at you.

You frowned. "Don't worry, I'm not going to burn down your home or anything, so you don't have to keep watch. " you stood, pushing your glasses up your nose, heading in the opposite direction. Leo knew he deserved the hostility. After the conversation with Splinter, he felt like he really understood nothing about his feelings.

~Flashback~

"Did they forget that she basically blackmailed us just to see who we were. Why am I the bad guy." He was more than a little frustrated. Even Raph was lecturing him on his statement that day. Raph of all people.

"Leonardo, she's young, just like you. I believe there is another reason you're conflicted about her."

"What do you mean?" He couldn't understand what Splinter was trying to say.

"Maybe you have learned to see her in another light. And it's difficult for you to understand. So your mind is telling you it's mistrust, but is that what you really feel?" His forehead creased in thought.

"What I really feel." He couldn't come up with a good answer. His encounters with you were never lengthy. He barely acknowledged you on most occasions. But when he did, he found that he was watching, or more like studying what you did. Your intelligence, humor, and those glasses that never seemed to stay perched up on your face. Leo's eyes grew wide.

"Sensei I..."

"You have feelings for her." Leo wanted to swallow his tongue. That couldn't be.

"There is nothing wrong with what you feel, however you need to be more careful with your words. (Y/N), despite her resilience is still very much a child. " Leo was still in a sense of shock. Splinter walked over, patting him on the shoulder. "I know you will find a way to make amends with her. Just be honest." he said nothing else, walking off with his hands folded behind his back.

"How am I supposed to do that." If you disliked him before, you definitely hated him now.

~Flashback end~

Leo released a heavy sigh. It would take a lot to take back those words. Right now, all he wanted was to let you know that he was wrong. It didn't matter if you detested him. He just needed to restore the trust he should have placed in you the moment he realized you cared for his family the same way he did.

~~~

"Mikey check out my costume!!" you were sporting a pikachu onesie. It was halloween after all, and you were more than excited to show off the cute yellow design.

"Pika pika~" you mimicked the sound your favorite Pokémon with a smile.

"You're so cute!" he gushed in a baby voice. You giggled, adjusting your glasses. The parade was about to start and you didn't want to miss it. Since this was one of the few days the turtles could roam around without suspicion, you were overjoyed. It was the first outing you had with them all together outside. You bounced on your feet when Donatello and Raph came from around the corner talking about training most likely. "Come on guys we need to get going!" you urged. Raph placed his hand on your pointed hoodie. "Alright hold ya horses. Leo's coming too." You puffed your cheeks at that.

"Great, the world's greatest killjoy is joining us." You really didn't want Leo's strict attitude on your night of fun.

"Speak of the devil." He was walking with his eyes in a book. When he saw everyone gathered his eyes raised. When they landed on you, he stopped completely. You knew it was stupid, but you blushed, because of the awe in his eyes as he looked at you. Your gaze moved down as you grabbed at the tail of your costume, fiddling with it. "Dummy, why is he looking at me like that!" Leo was the last person you wanted to make your heart beat that way. You weren't even wearing tight clothing either, so why the hell was he staring like you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. Leo willed himself to look away, placing his book down.

"She looks so cute." Of course he didn't say it out loud. Regaining his cool, he folded his arms.

"You guys ready."

"Yeah dude we were waiting for you." Mikey reached over picking you up, you were laughing the entire time.

"Onward soldiers!!" he shouted. Raph just tapped him on the head. "Dude!" Donnie rolled his eyes.

"If you guys start fighting Sensei won't let us go." he informed. Mikey made a zipping motion on his lips. Leo watched his brothers marching away with you. And a tinge of jealousy rushed through his body seeing how comfortable you seemed with Mikey.

~~~

Walking through the streets you took in all the creative costumes. Bands were marching, people cheering, bodies jumping and prancing to the music that blared through the speakers. Mikey was a little ways ahead, easily making friends in the crowd of people. He looked so happy. Raph and Donnie's eyes were also trained on Mikey. The content expressed on their faces was really indescribable. They usually gave him a hard time, and you knew it was just how brothers acted with each other. He was the youngest, and you were positive if anyone tried to hurt him, they would protect him in a heartbeat.

"Hey there, are you all alone cutie." you were so distracted that you didn't realize you got partially separated from the others. The male blocking your way annoyed you. Raph and the others were a short way up the street. If you could just get past this guy you could join them.

"Sorry but I'm with my friends. I've got to go." He moved closer to grab your hand, and you were about to recoil when a hand came down and pulled you backwards. You stumble into something firm, and when you look up, blue eyes are glaring at the man before you. "She's taken." the guy raised both his hands with a laugh. "Alright hulk no need to get mad. You should keep a better watch on your girl." He backed up, leaving, falling back into the crowd. When he was gone, those electric eyes moved in your direction. He was still holding unto you.

"T-Thank you Leo." you weren't much of a fighter, and you would hate it if the turtles first outing got ruined because you couldn't stay close. "Be more careful, guys like that are nothing but trouble. I'd hate it if you got hurt."

That was the nicest thing he'd ever really said to you.

Wait a minute.

"What did you mean I'm taken? " you raised a brow. Leo let you go, taking a step back.

"I was just..I didn't want him getting any ideas." He wouldn't look at you. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"N-No it's okay. I kinda figured as much." Why the hell were you disappointed at his answer. You should know better.

"By the way, you're costume it's..really nice." you flush, fixing your glasses.

"O-Oh! T-Thanks." You must have been dreaming. Another nice statement from Leo. What was the world coming to? The both of you stood there awkwardly for a while, neither sure what to do.

This was the longest conversation you had with Leo that didn't end up with animosity on either side. Your eyes caught his hand that was hanging, and you took it softly in your own. Leo looked up stunned. "S-So we don't get separated again." you clarified. Raph and the others were already a ways ahead. It would have been bad if you got into another little scuffle. So you started moving to them, keeping a soft grip on Leo's hand so he didn't fall behind. You kept your eyes forward, because you knew if you looked at him again, he'd figure out just how happy you were to hold his hand.

If only he knew how you felt.

~~~~

"Ugh! I hate these so much." you sighed heavily, massaging your eyelids. "What's the matter?" you almost jumped, startled by the concern in Leo's voice. Everyone else seemed taken in their own task. Mikey didn't even turn from his game at your small yell. "I-It's really nothing, just a code. It's been stressing me out for the last hour. "

 Leo took a seat next to you on the chair, turning you in his direction. You just watched him, waiting for whatever he was about to do. He smiled, reaching out and removing your glasses. You closed your eyes not really expecting the gesture. "You have to stop for a while and..." when his words started to trail off you were confused. "W-What's wrong?" He looked so dazed, it sort of alarmed you.

"It's nothing, it's just your eyes...they're beautiful." he muttered.

"Oh boy."

Since the Halloween party, Leo was being especially nice to you. Now that you thought about it, he'd been doing it way before that.

"You're beautiful.." He was very careful not to voice that, still, he could think it. Because it was true. To him you were breathtaking, his only regret was that he'd didn't figure out his feelings before. Maybe now it wouldn't have been so hard for him to be honest about how he felt.

Your eyes were staring in shock, your mouth slightly agape.

"Did you just...call me beautiful." Leo paused.

"W-What?"

"You said...you said that I'm beautiful." surely you didn't imagine those words coming from his mouth. What was really going on here. Of course you were overjoyed. But didn't he still not trust you? Why was he saying these things, looking at you the way he did. Leo stood in ample time, and before you could get another word in he was leaving hurriedly.

"I-I have to go." He didn't offer an explanation, just bolted like his life depended on it. You sat there, flustered and maybe even a little irritated.

"Why the heck is he pulling me in so many directions."

One day he's telling you to your face that he doesn't trust you, then the next he's looking out for you, complimenting you. It was driving you crazy.

"I hate boys." you groaned.

~~~~

The soft knock on his door had his eyes lifting. He stopped momentarily attending to his bonsai tree. When the door opened, his heart staggered for a fleeting second. You walked in, shutting it. Your hands were behind your back, and you could barely hold eye contact with him. Leo wasn't much better. He placed down the small clippers, shifting on his feet. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, concerned about the surprise visit.

"Y-Yes actually." you needed to get a handle on whatever this crazy thing was between the both of you.

"Why have you been acting so weird with me. I know the both of us we've never really been on the best terms. And I guess I don't help that much. But you're the same. You say things to me to piss me off and I get so agitated! " You were shouting, and Leo's head lowered.

"Then you act so sweet and kind out of nowhere and it completely messes me up because I can't read you at all. Do you hate me or not!"

"I could never hate you (Y/N)." That simple statement the way he said it, the look on his face. It struck you right in the heart.

"Why do you do that.." you lips quivered, and you took a step forward, Leo didn't expect to see the tears that were gathering in your eyes.

"Stop giving me hope and then tearing it from me. Y-You have no idea how I feel about you.." Damn it, your intention was never to break down in front of him. Leo clenched his fists, and you raised your hands to wipe away your tears. When you heard him walking towards you, everything in your body stilled. Leo's hand rested on your cheek, and you opened your mouth to say more, but Leo stole whatever words you had prepared. Standing there wide eyed, you could barely believe the feeling of his lips pressed softly to your own. Because of the height difference. He had to lean down slightly. When he pulled back, his eyes flickered open. The glow of his eyes were somewhat surreal.

"I should have never said that to you (Y/N). That day..I was stupid. Long before I had feelings for you. I guess I was just too scared to admit how I felt, so I kept my distance, and created excuses to keep it that way. I'm so sorry that I made you feel like you weren't welcomed. You're just as much a part of this family as April and Vern. "

"Leo.." so the entire time he cared about you, the same way you did for him. He just didn't want to accept it. Maybe he was terrified you wouldn't see him the same.

"Dummy." you mutter. Leo smiled at that, scratching his neck. "I have been an idiot. As a leader I should have understood better."

"Maybe you should stop expecting yourself to constantly know the answer for everything Leo. Somethings just aren't that logical." He knew that, now.

"There's still so much I need to learn. Will you help me?" you blushed, trying to hide it.

"S-Sure. I am a genius after all." you boasted, nudging your glasses.

"Yes you are." you gazed at him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"Leo..that kiss.."

"I'm sorry! That was definitely not okay. I think I just..reacted." You could tell he was still a bit unnerved by it all. He still wasn't completely sure of your feelings.

"I kind of liked it." you mumble. Leo is still, processing your words. When he takes a step forward, you can't stop the quickening of your heart beat.

"Can I kiss you again?" The fact that he asks permission this time causes your heart to do flips. He's standing right in front of you, and his eyes have already zeroed in on your lips. You stop nibbling on your lips when you feel his warm palm on your cheek. He doesn't make another move, waiting for an answer. When words fail, you simply give a small nod. Leo smiles warmly, that all he needs.

He lowers to meet your lips, and as he does, his forehead lightly taps your glasses. You flush in embarrassment, and Leo just chuckles. "Have I ever told you that you're absolutely adorable in glasses." The comment makes your cheeks darken even more, and as you think of a reply, Leo banishes any chance of you forming coherent thoughts. His lips are so soft. And the way he's holding your face in his palms, it makes you want to melt on the spot. Every movement is gentle and almost calculated.

The right amount of pressure and passion. How does he know to kiss so well? It shocks you, the expert way his lips are clashing with yours. It's possible he's seen one to many movies, and like the prodigy he is, the skill was something he picked up quickly. "Leo.." You can't do much but submit to him, and this time. This time there is no doubt in your mind. Because you finally know  his feelings, and he's aware of yours as well. When he picks you up bridal style, you're a bit taken by surprise, separating for a brief moment. As you do so, his eyes are a lot closer, and you can see everything. All his fears, wants, struggles, desires...

It's enough to overwhelm your heart. But you aren't afraid. Not at all. Because this is Leo. He may be terrible at voicing his feelings, but you know for a fact that he won't hurt you. Not at all. His blue bandana does wonders to highlight the similar glow of his eyes.

You can't look away, and you don't want to. Your hand presses to the center of his chest, and right beneath your palm you feel it. The insistent strumming. The look in your eyes changes to one of surprise, and he immediately knows why. "It's...harder for me to hide it when you're so close." This entire time he's been acting so confident and in control. Yet, he's just as smitten as you, Maybe ever more. You grin at that. "You don't have to." You reach up, reclaiming his lips, and nothing in the world seems sweeter than the taste of Leo's lips. And you know for a fact, nothing ever will.

#leonardo #leo x reader #raphael #michelangelo #donatello #splinter #trust #love #tech #cuteness #costumes #brothers #protective #newyork #halloween #enemies to lovers #cute

[pain-somnia]

Title: Take Me Now, I’m In Too Far Rating: M (for sexual content) Disclaimer Playlist Art Credit: @inknigella​ (used with permission) Day’s Notes: I have recently updated this fic on Patreon. It is one of three fics of mine exclusive to Patreon, but here’s a chance to read Part 1 of my “exes as roommates” AU. This fic is dear to me in almost the same way Kingdom For Two is. The fic started as a simple Roommates AU, but then was molded into something else when I decided to add the fact that they were exes. I wanted to write about two people that love each other a lot but growing up and becoming “real” adults made things difficulty. If you would like to give this fic a chance and enjoy Part 1, you can find Part 2 & Part 3 on Patreon. Here is a link to the tag for this fic. I have opened up the $1 tier permanently for access to exclusive fics and early access to publicly posted fics, but I have other tiers with different perks. One of the perks for certain tiers are PDFs that contain exclusive art that will only be found in full on my Patreon (or in some cases Cj’s Patreon). The above banner was created with a preview of one of the many works Ink has provided to help bring my work to life.

I hope you all enjoy the first part of this fic and consider becoming one of my patrons 😊

Part One

She was going to kill Karin. And her stupid boyfriend. She was going to kill Karin and her boyfriend and then take back the armchair she let them have as a moving-in-together gift.

Sakura wasn’t that surprised when Karin told her she was moving out. She had been spending so much time at Suigetsu’s apartment, it was as if she had already moved out months ago. It was only a matter of time before the two of them would officially move in together.

Karin had been considerate and had found her a new roommate before she gave her the news. And although Sakura wasn’t too keen on the idea of living with a stranger—a man at that—she was willing to put up with it for her friend’s happiness.

At least for a few months while she looked for a new place if possible.

Unfortunately for Sakura, she couldn’t set a day to actually meet her new roommate before he was set to move in. Their schedules conflicted most days so Karin went ahead and took care of all of the necessary paperwork and was present when he moved in. With how things had begun, Sakura assumed she wouldn’t meet her new roommate until her day off.

She hadn’t expected to run into him as she was leaving for work at the bakery at three in the morning and he was coming home smelling of booze.

She definitely didn’t expect to see her ex-boyfriend holding a key to her apartment.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sasuke muttered, running a hand through his messy, jet black hair.

“You’re my new roommate?” Sakura scoffed, wringing her hands in the scarf she was attempting to put on on her way out. “How did you not know that I was Karin’s roommate?”

Sasuke looked at her impassively for a moment, as if mulling over what he wanted to say before pushing past her and saying, “I’m going to bed.”

“What? We’re not even going to talk about this?”

“If we start now, you’re going to be late for work,” he called back to her without turning around. “Can’t have that can we?”

Sakura scoffed but couldn’t retort. He was right. If she missed her bus she was going to have to wait for the next one and it would cause her to be late.

She wanted nothing more than to bang on his bedroom door and demand that he come out and speak with her. How could he just go to sleep!?

“We’re talking when I get back!” She shouted, grabbing the front door. Sakura waited but there was no response. She growled in frustration and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

.

.

“Have you been taking your anger out on dough again?” Ino commented dryly between page flips of a cake catalogue, pointing out cute designs to the toddler sitting on her lap and cooing.

Sakura rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm and sighed. It was one in the afternoon and she had spent the day busy working on custom orders. At the moment she was sitting through a consultation with her childhood friend who needed to order a birthday cake for her son, Inojin. She had tried to throw herself into baking and packaging orders but now that there was a slow down where it was only her and two of the shop clerks, her mind was free to think about how her ex was now living with her.

“You know how Karin moved out and found me a roommate?”

“Uh-huh, it was kind of unexpected. Isn’t it a little early though? They’ve only been dating for━”

“Sasuke is the roommate she found me.”

“Holy━sorry, honey.” Ino interrupted herself and covered her son’s ears. “Holy shit!”

“I wanted to call her and chew her out but in her defense, she doesn’t know he’s my ex-boyfriend.” Sakura slumped in her seat, took a fork and dug into one of the cake slices she brought out for tasting. “When I did get a chance to talk to her earlier, she said that apparently Suigetsu is best buddies with him and Kiba. Kiba and Sasuke were rooming with their friend Shino but the lease was coming to an end and Shino was moving away for a teaching job and Kiba decided to move in with his fiancée. So━”

“So Sasuke needed a new place quick and conveniently Suigetsu knew a place close enough to his workplace and with someone that desperately needed a new roommate.”

Sakura tossed the fork over her shoulder in defeat and dropped her head into her hands. Ino reached over and patted her arm in a comforting manner.

“I give you guys two weeks.”

“Two weeks for what?” Sakura lifted her head up to narrow her eyes at Ino. “Before we kill each other?”

Ino covered Inojin’s ears one more time and said, “Two weeks before you’re fucking.”

“Ino!” Sakura sat up, looking affronted, hand clutching the front of her apron.

“You guys used to go at it like rabbits,” Ino gave her a sly smile, “and it’s not like you guys broke up because you grew to hate each other.”

“That was years ago, Ino.” Sakura rolled her eyes and pushed the cake slices closer to Inojin. He immediately sank his fingers into the cake and ate from his hands. “He’s probably moved on anyway.”

“It was the stupidest break up.”

“I know it was, but we were so busy and our schedules never aligned. It was frustrating.” Sakura sighed and stared off into space. “It’s been four years…”

Ino took out some wet wipes and cleaned Inojin’s chubby fingers. “So what are you going to do?”

Sakura shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Ino looked at her incredulously. “You’re just going to live with him and not do a thing about it.”

“I didn’t even notice he was there for three days already.” Sakura shrugged again. “And our schedules never sync up. I really don’t think it will be an issue.”

“Unless he brings someone home,” Ino said the words slowly so Sakura couldn’t miss what she was telling her.

“He’s not as insensitive as that.” Sakura crossed her arms in front of her chest. The action was to get as close to hugging herself without actually doing it.

The truth was that the Sasuke she knew wasn’t insensitive. But she didn’t know this Sasuke; a Sasuke that was twenty-five instead of the twenty year old she knew and loved.

.

.

The new apartment was a lot closer to the tattoo parlor he worked at than his old place. It was one of the things that sold him on it when Suigetsu mentioned that Karin was moving in with him and leaving her old roomie without. That and the washer and dryer included in the apartment which meant no more paying at a laundromat or to use the communal laundry center.

Sasuke wasn’t too keen on sharing a space with a woman he didn’t know but Karin insisted that his roommate was clean and quiet and that with her work schedule he wouldn’t be running into her except on Sundays when her bakery was closed.

Bakery.

That was the first sign that had him want to put the pen down and walk away. Because baking is what she wanted to do for a living. But what were the odds that Karin was talking about her? There were tons of bakeries in the city and Sakura didn’t own one the last time he checked.

But that was five years ago when she was nineteen and too young. She was still pretty young to be a business owner but with Sakura’s tenacity there was a highly likely chance that she would have her own shop. And wasn’t that one of the reasons she had been saving every penny she could when she started working?

Shaking his head of all of those thoughts, he had signed the documents that would transfer him as the new leasee replacing Karin.

It wasn’t until he was moving in that Sasuke found out who exactly Karin’s roommate had been.

Suigetsu and he were bringing in boxes while Karin gave him a tour of the apartment when he saw the photos on the wall. Anyone could dye their hair pink but what were the odds that another pink haired woman around Karin’s age would have gone to Catholic school for high school and wore the same uniform that Sakura used to prance around in.

“Sakura is pretty sentimental so she has photos all over the apartment,” he distantly heard Karin explain as he examined all of the photos that were lined up in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Come check out the bathroom. It’s pretty big ‘cause the washer and dryer are set up in there. There’s a door to block out that area from the toilet and shower cabin for some privacy. It’s frosted glass but you can’t really see what’s going on on the other side.”

Karin hadn’t been friends with Sakura when the two of them had been dating so he couldn’t fault her for not knowing but Suigetsu did know that Sakura was his ex.

An ex he was still kind of hung up on.

Which is why after work he headed to the bar with Kiba and Tamaki, Kiba’s fiancée. They were supposed to celebrate him finding a new place but after Kiba asked why Suigetsu wasn’t there, Sasuke explained that he was banned from their usual bar for a few weeks because he let him move in with his ex without warning him.

If he was lucky he would never have to run into Sakura while he was living there. Because wasn’t that the cause of their breakup before? With her busy culinary school schedule and apprenticeship and then his work at the parlor running into late at night, they barely saw each other.

So stumbling in slightly drunk and a little high at three in the morning, Sasuke didn’t expect to see her on the other side of the apartment door in the middle of bundling up for the November cold.

Sakura still looked like she did at nineteen but different at the same time. Her face had lost most of the roundness of youth, but her figure was no longer as slim. She was still on the thin side, but unlike Karin who was all sharp edges and harsh angles, Sakura had filled out either with age or from eating one too many of her own cupcakes.

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair before tucking the arm it was attached to behind his head. He was finding it difficult to stay asleep which was all he had planned on doing before work for the day. Sakura had said something about talking later and he had been dreading having to have the conversation. He vaguely recalled saying something snarky about her running late for work. No doubt she would be upset over that.

The conversation was going to happen. But considering he would be gone before she came home from work, who knew when it would actually take place.

If he was lucky, she would wait until they were home and not find him at work like she used to.

.

.

When Sasuke first met Sakura she was wearing all of the cliche warning signs.

He was busy sketching when she strolled into the shop. Sasuke was supposed to be manning the reception desk and was likely to get bitched at by his cousin’s best friend for not paying attention.

“Hey,” greeted a cheerful voice.

Looking up from his sketchbook, Sasuke blinked in confusion at what he was seeing. Before him stood two teenage girls wearing the dark green tartan patterned pleated skirt and white button down shirt of a school uniform. The blonde one had a sweater wrapped around her waist but the slightly shorter girl with rose gold hair had a cream colored school cardigan with the school crest emblazoned on the left side of her chest.

“Our Lady of Sorrows is seven blocks,” Sasuke pointed out the door, “that way.”

“We have an appointment.” The blonde girl blew a bubble with her gum and popped it. “The school day also ended like an hour ago, dude.”

Raising an eyebrow, he flipped through the appointment book and asked, “names?”

“Ino Yamanaka and Sakura Haruno,” the girl with the pink hair answered, pointing at the girl that matched the names she gave. “We have an appointment with my cousin Sasori.”

Looking down the schedule log there it was. The new piercer did have an appointment with an Ino and a Sakura.

“Aren’t piercings prohibited at catholic schools?” Sasuke asked, eyeing the uniforms.

“Yeah, but you can’t get caught if you get them where the nuns can’t see them.” The pink haired girl winked at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

“What kind of piercings are you getting then?” He asked, taking out the waiver forms.

“Belly button for Ino.” The blonde girl raised her hand and took her form and filled out the form.

He turned to Sakura and waited for her answer. Her lips turned upwards at the corners in a coy smile.

“Hips.”

Even now, if Sasuke closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory of Sakura swiveling her hips as he thrust up into her, he could see the jewelry twinkling at him as she dipped her hips.

A lot of years had gone by since that first encounter and Sasuke was no longer the shop slave he was during his apprenticeship and Sakura was no longer that rebellious catholic school girl.

It didn’t stop him from wondering if her dermals were still in place or if after all those years her skin rejected the piercings and they had to be removed.

“What’s up with you, kid?” He felt someone ruffle his hair and he swatted at the air. The only one that had the courage to do so was Konan, one of their piercers.

“Nothing,” he replied, sanitizing the tattoo bed before his next client showed up.

“His ex girlfriend found out he lives with her,” Kiba cackled from his work station. Sasuke took his discarded gloves and threw them across the room until they hit him with a smack. “Ow!”

“Why would that be a surprise?” Konan asked. Sasuke made himself busy taking needles to the autoclave to avoid responding.

“She works baker’s hours,” Sasuke heard Kiba responding for him. “They have opposing schedules so Sui’s girlfriend took care of everything.”

“Good luck with that.”  Konan went to the reception counter to check the appointment book. She had already moved on from the conversation.

I’m going to need more than luck, Sasuke grumbled inwardly.

.

.

Sakura drummed her fingers against her mug, nails clinking against the ceramic. She knew Sasuke wouldn’t get home until late so she called the co-owner of her bakery and asked her to oversee the baking of the everyday  goods the following morning.

While Sakura mostly ran the show in the kitchen—Hinata being too soft and gentle to command the staff—she was mostly the cake artist and worked on custom orders. It was a lot more relaxed than the job she had as a pastry chef for the high end hotel in the city, but it still demanded a lot of her time.

She could spend hours of her day just to work on a cake that would still take her three days to make all of the components for it.

It wasn’t until one in the morning that the front door creaked open, keys jingling as they were pulled out of the lock.

“You stayed up.” Sasuke toed his boots off and lined them up next to hers. The leather work boots were of a popular brand so they hadn’t alarmed Sakura despite them being part of Sasuke’s signature look.

Sakura stood up from his seat at the couch and wrapped her oversized cardigan tighter around her body. She hugged herself, feeling exposed in her pajamas. “I said we had to talk.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” Sasuke tossed his keys on the kitchen island. Sakura grabbed them and placed them on a wall hook next to her own set of keys. “I need a place to live, you need a roommate. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Sakura asked, voice soft and slow, urging him to re-examine their situation. When he continued to stare at her impassively, Sakura scoffed.

“I didn’t know you were Karin’s roommate until I was moving in.”

“I know.” Sakura ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. Sasuke wasn’t a liar. At least the Sasuke she knew wasn’t a liar. “I know.”

“So is this the end of the discussion?” Sasuke’s eyes drifted from her to the hallway behind her. It was late and all he wanted was to get to bed. “I don’t really see any problem with us living together. You didn’t even notice that I was here for three days.”

The problem is that I never got over you. “Alright, if there’s no problem then let’s go over the rules.”

“Rules?” Sasuke gave her a blank look.

“Yes, rules. Karin and I had them and now so will we.”

“Okay.” Sasuke crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the island. “What are your rules?”

“Rule number one: no fucking on the couch.”

Sasuke’s eyes went wide and he choked on an inhale. “That’s a rule you guys had or is that one you made for me?”

“That was an actual rule we had.” Sakura shivered in disgust. “Suigetsu has a very pale ass.”

“Yeah, everyone’s seen more of Sui than they’ve ever wanted to.”

“Rule number two: toilet seat needs to be put back down after use.”

“Okay, that’s definitely one you made up for me.” Sasuke stood you straighter and looked her up and down. “Do I get to make rules too?”

“I will consider them.”

“Alright.” Sasuke was silent for a moment as he pondered. “No obnoxious noises such as vacuuming when you know the other is sleeping.”

“That’s reasonable.” Sakura sat down on one of the bar stools at the island and took out her notepad. She took out a pen and wrote down a few lines. “I do my laundry twice a week━Wednesdays and Sundays, usually around noon. Having a schedule kind of helps out ‘cause the laundry room is in the bathroom.”

They went back and forth writing down rules and going over each other’s work schedule. Sakura tapped the pen on the table and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to step on any toes or be misunderstood but she needed to bring up an uncomfortable topic.

“No overnight guests.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow and in a rush to recover Sakura blurted out, “for either of us! At least not without a heads up. I don’t want to be walking around in my underwear and there’s a stranger in my home.”

“Why would you be walking around in your━?”

“I sleep like that sometimes!” Sakura snapped, cheeks heating up. “I wake up to use the bathroom or get water and I’m too drowsy to consider pants.”

“Why do you sleep in your underwear if you get cold easily?” Sasuke’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I come home too tired to change so I just sleep in my underwear.” Sakura stomped her foot. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t judge me!”

“Just remember that I live here now and will see your ass if you decide that pants are too much,” Sasuke yawned, “effort. I’m going to bed now.”

Sakura watched him head to his room with a frown on her face. It wasn’t until she heard the lock on his door click that she let out an exhausted sigh.

Does he have to look cute when he’s sleepy?

.

.

“Is this too much for a three year old’s birthday?” Sakura sat back and looked thoughtfully at her sketch with her chin resting on her fist.

Hinata shrugged as she continued to pipe buttercream flowers. “I mean it’s more for Ino, isn't it?”

“God,” Sakura rolled her eyes, “it really is. I’m sure Inojin would be happy with a dinosaur on a cake instead of a dinosaur made out of cake.”

Hinata giggled softly as she continued to make a bouquet out of cupcakes. She was working on cupcakes for a bridal shower. Sakura had helped her with the structure to make it appear that it was suspended in the air and now all she had to do was decorate it.

When Sakura had met Hinata, the young woman wasn’t the best baker. It was an issue of confidence and being unsure if it was the best decision she had made. Upon discovering that Hinata had a few years to become a successful baker or get married to a man her father chose, Sakura took her under her wing and when they were ready they used Hinata’s trust fund to secure a location.

At that point Sakura already had a reputation for her cake sculptures so they lucked out.

Just because Sakura couldn’t be with the person she loved, it didn’t mean she was going to watch someone give up on their dream and marry someone they were forced to.

“So how has Tinder been working out for you?” Sakura drawled as she took out the ingredients she was going to need.

“I prefer Bumble, actually,” Hinata mumbled, face flushing pink. “You know it’s weird describing myself as pleasantly plump. Usually I would just say fat or chubby.”

“But you are pleasantly plump,” Sakura teased her. “And good call on Bumble. Message any guys?”

“I might have,” Hinata muttered under her breath, face turning a dark shade of red.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

“We only met for coffee!” Hinata insisted over Sakura’s laughter. Sakura waved her hand at her and tried to reign in her laughter. It was quiet in the kitchen until Hinata said, “I wouldn’t have minded though. He has such pretty blue eyes.”

Sakura only stopped laughing when Hinata threw buttercream at her face.

The assistants walked in from the front of the shop to find Sakura covered in pink and purple frosting, armed with a piping bag full of green frosting, and Hinata shielding her cupcake sculpture.

.

.

Sakura was exhausted by the time she got home. It was one of those rare days where she didn’t get home until late. There was so much math and engineering into creating cake sculptures and trial and error.

She slumped against her apartment door and groaned. She had just unlocked the door but had no energy to push it open.

“You’re almost there, don’t pass out now.” Turning slightly, Sakura mumbled incoherently at the sight of Sasuke holding a take out bag. “Jesus Christ, you’re dead on your feet.”

“Carry me,” Sakura grumbled.

Sighing to himself, Sasuke handed her the bag of takeout and crouched down, scooping her legs up and cradling her. “How the fuck did Karin deal with you? She’s twiggy.”

“Suigetsu was usually around or she’d drag me across the floor.” Sakura opened the bag of food and examined the contents as Sasuke set her down on the couch. “Anything I’d like in here?”

“I thought you would be sleeping, but I have some stuff you could tolerate.” He grabbed two plates and brought them to the coffee table and began to serve her some of his food. “Do you ever take a break?”

“I have a day off tomorrow technically.”

“But you’re going to go to work.” Sasuke shook his head, unruly hair swaying around his face. “Typical.”

And with that Sakura lost all desire to eat despite not having had anything to eat all day except for some bread and tastings.

“Hey, where are you? It’s getting weird just sitting here. I can order right now if you’re nearby.”

“Oh, shoot! Sasuke I’m sorry but I’m still at work.”

“Wasn't today your day off?”

So what if she was a “workaholic?” If she were a man no one would see anything wrong with how much she worked.

She knew that eventually she was going to be faced with reminders of what a shitty girlfriend she had been, but she had hoped that she would be alone as she looked back on all of the mistakes she had made.

Sasuke had forgiven her for the first missed date but once he had been stood up a second, third, fourth, fifth time he stopped making any plans for them.

“I gotta take this coat off,” Sakura mumbled, fumbling with the buttons. Sasuke reached over and helped her get free of her coat and then hung it up on the hooks by the door. If he was going to be this nice for the duration of the time they lived together, the shittier she was going to feel.

“Karin said you owned a bakery. When did that happen?” He handed her a plate full of food, much more food than Sakura would have served herself, but one look from Sasuke had her clamming up and taking the set of chopsticks he placed flat across her palm.

“A few years ago…” Sakura swallowed a bite of dumpling. “It was kind of an accident.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and paused in his chewing. Sakura laughed through her nose and explained to him how she had met Hinata.

She had been working at the same high end hotel she had done her apprenticeship when Hinata had been hired on the spot. The tiny, plump woman was quiet and stuttered when speaking to her coworkers because no one wanted her there.

Hinata had been hired because of her last name—the hotel being owned by the Hyūga family—with no references nor any culinary school training which was required to work at the Michelin star hotel restaurant. Due to the fact they were around the same age and because she was the newest hire, Sakura was tasked with watching over the woman. No one else would take up the responsibility thinking that Hinata would hold them back.

Sakura just couldn’t leave Hinata alone. She reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She helped to train her during her off time and guided her through the French techniques that Sakura had been trained in.

The desire to learn and the drive was there, hidden under the fear of failure.

Sakura moved on to work at a custom cake shop where she could use more of her artistic abilities. Eventually the owner was ready to retire and was willing to sell the store to her.

She wanted to own her shop one day. It was part of her goals but brick and mortar shops were expensive. If it weren’t for Hinata’s trust fund she would never have been able to afford the shop. The two of them had kept in touch and when Sakura found out that Hinata was on her way to quitting being a pastry chef, they made plans to go into business together.

Sasuke listened to her story, never interjecting but nodding at certain intervals and slight facial shifts showing that Sakura still had his attention.

“So what have you been up to?” Sakura asked, digging through the leftover noodles in one of the cartons.

“I still work at the same shop. I moved out a few years ago. Funnily enough it was my mom that was on my case not my dad.”

“Really?” Sakura was genuinely shocked.

When she had last seen Fugaku he wasn’t the biggest supporter of Sasuke’s chosen profession. He had paid for him to go to art school, not to waste his talent working at a tattoo parlor. His mother, Mikoto, was the one that had always been his personal cheerleader.

“I think it was all of the new ink,” Sasuke gestured to his sleeve covered arms, “that really did it for my mom. She always made faces at them and commented about what kind of girl I thought I would be attracting with them.”

I always liked your tattoos. Sakura shrugged and stuffed noodles into her mouth to keep from commenting out loud.

When Sakura was just freshly eighteen and finishing her final year of high school, Sasuke was the exact kind of guy her grandmother had wanted her to stay away from. She had left money behind in her will for Sakura to attend the same school she and Sakura’s mother, Mebuki, had attended.

Our Lady of Sorrows was a Catholic private school that Sakura’s parents wouldn’t have been able to afford without the money her grandmother had left behind. She had probably hoped that Sakura would go to private school, be abstinent, go to college and then medical school and then eventually marry a doctor.

It was too bad that Sakura preferred to be in the kitchen with her father a lot more than she cared for her school. If they had let her stay in public school there may have been a better chance of her focusing on her studies and eventually going to medical school like her grandma had wanted her to. Sakura had been miserable at Our Lady of Sorrows, her only solace being Ino and baking.

And Sasuke.

Sasuke had been the kind of cliché salvation a teenage girl fantasized about. And she still couldn’t believe that at one point in their lives, she had been his.

.

.

Ino cut off the boy that usually sat at the desk in front of Sakura and slid into the seat, a manic look in her eyes. “Guess what?”

“I’m not playing this game,” Sakura laughed, completely ignoring the boy that was frowning at Ino.

“Well, fine. Be boring.” Ino huffed, blowing her bangs up and letting them flop back on her face. “But anyway so I was talking to your cousin Sasori━”

“Ino, he’s way too old for you and he’s gay. And you have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not why I was talking to your cousin, Billboard Brow.” Ino flicked Sakura’s forehead. “But anywho. So I went to visit your cousin at that parlor he’s working at now ‘cause I wanna get those piercings you wanted for your birthday━no arguments. They’re on me. We’re going after school.”

“That’s awfully generous of you.” Sakura pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her. “Is Sasori giving you a discount?”

Ino scoffed. “I wish! That miser,” she grumbled. Ino shook her hair out and then smiled slyly at her. “But that’s not even the best part.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Ino was really milking the big surprise. She was too impatient for this and the homeroom teacher would show up soon.

“Remember that mega hottie from the public school at the student showcase down at The Factory Art Center?”

Sakura groaned, dropping her head onto her planner. How could she forget? She was just lucky that he hadn’t seen her run straight into a wall because she had been so distracted. The only good thing that came about that was that Ino met her boyfriend Sai that day. And that the boy hadn’t noticed her accident.

It had been a student showcase for the senior students in the schools in the city and Sakura and Ino attended for extra credit. Sakura had been mindlessly looking at all of the pieces until a tall boy wearing all black with messy hair had caught her eye. She had barely heard Ino call out “Dibs!” before she ran into one of the pillars because she wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking.

Ino had given up chase and did her best friend duties by checking up on Sakura. Luckily for her, a different dark haired boy had seen the whole thing and had come over to help out and Ino got her older boyfriend anyway.

“That was almost a whole year ago. Why must you remind me that I embarrassed myself in front of like, seven different senior classes.”

“Mega hottie works at the parlor your cousin does. He’s an apprentice-slash-shop slave.”

That, Sakura hadn’t expected. She had seen his work and expected him to go off to art school and then maybe come back to The Factory Art Center to be a resident artist or for him to even switch tracks and work at Glass & Iron━he did have some lampwork and some welding work as part of his showcase.

“So what?” Sakura swallowed. The grin on Ino’s face was foreboding.

“So,” Ino reached over and played with the ends of Sakura’s long pink hair, “someone is going to take her cute butt down there and finally meet him.”

.

.

“Sakura.”

Sakura blinked at the hand that waved in front of her face. Sasuke looked down at her with concern. She looked just about ready to pass out in her noodles.

“Are you okay? You should probably get to bed.” He would just have to clean up everything on his own. And if she tried to go to work on her day off, he’d call the tiny red terror━Karin or Sakura’s cousin, Sasori━to force her to rest for once.

Sakura rubbed her eye with the back of her little fist and murmured, “I should. Thank you for the food.”

She was so small and tired, Sasuke just wanted to scoop her up and bundle her up in her blankets. But then he remembered that she would be going to her own room and he would be going to his and there were four years between now and when he was hers.

Did she still curl herself inward like a cat when she slept? Bury herself under three blankets that weighed almost as much she did?

He could help her to her room and find out. She was dead on her feet and would probably need him to keep from stumbling and running into a wall. It would be so easy to just curl his arm around her waist, pull her closer to his sturdier frame.

It would be easy, oh so easy. And that’s why Sasuke left her to her own devices.

#sasusaku #ss fanfiction #day!fics

[fangirlincorporated-blog]

The Lucky Australian

Authors note: this chapter details a panic attack (based on my own experience)  and may be upsetting for some readers. readers discretion is advised.

~~ 15 Bound ~~

 Tell a story, one that's never been told

Remembering how did it feel,

I've got letters, I've got songs that I wrote,

And a heart lined with chromium steel,

Artifacts of darker passions,

I took the fragments and buried them under my bed

And still that ferrous sun,

It shines down on the living.

 Fighting the urge to sleep, Henry showered and dressed for dinner, the heat of the day settling into the night. Aurora was so excited to take him to dinner. He never really got used to the idea of a woman paying for dinner, but she was insistent he was her guest and he found it hard to say no to her beautiful face.

Buttoning his shirt, he looked around the room. Minimal and modern is how he would describe her style, but with warmth that only a home can bring. Aurora had made a space for him in her closest. “Its not fair you live out of a suitcase for 2 months Henry” she scolded him.

“FISHY FISHY!!!” Aurora exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, he heard Pickles barking. Moving to the kitchen, he leant against the wall watching the scene before him.

Pickles was so excited for her dinner, prancing around on her paws, her eyes followed every movement Aurora made.  Aurora set her bowl down and Henry watched as the dog inhaled every morsel. Aurora looked up to see him staring; she was dressed in a short white satin dress with a blue china pattern over it, her hair pulled back with nude high heels on her feet. She looked simply divine and unable to keep his hands to himself he wandered over to Aurora. He pulled her into his arms and leaned down to kiss her. Aurora's arms snaked around his neck, after the excitement of today, she finally gave him the welcome he was looking for. His arms around her and his lips caressing hers, he almost forgot about dinner. He felt Pickles pushing her way between their bodies before she let out one single loud bark.

Aurora pulled back to look at him as Pickles continued her verbal dissatisfaction that she was not the recipient of pats she wanted.

“That, right there, is why I call her the cockblock”

Henry looked down at the dog, her expectant brown eyes looking up at him as she curled her lip, ready to let out another bark.

He turned back to Aurora.

Pickles barked again

“She’s very insistent” Henry let go of Aurora to pat her

“Yeah, she used to do it all the time before-“ Aurora stopped short.

“Anyway, dinner?” Aurora grabbed her bag and keys

“Lead the way!” Henry said, as he followed her out of the house, leaving Pickles to guard her domain.

 ~~~~~~~~

 They had finished what Henry thought was one of the best meals of his life, the ambiance of the restaurant and the company Henry had making the night better.

Henry had made Aurora promise they would go again before he left, and every other time he would visit. Aurora was only happy to fulfil his wish.

Walking back to her house, Henry was all hands, there was something about the sea air, the night and her that was driving him insane, the sooner they got home the better.

“Good thing you are within walking distance of that restaurant” Henry said into her lips, as he pinned her against the door the moment they walked in the house.

She giggled against him. Henry heard Pickles before he saw her; pulling away from Aurora he opened the back door to let Pickles relieve herself.

“Henry, got to bed, I’ll meet you in there”

“Ill hold you to that” he called to her, shedding his clothes on the way to the bedroom.

Aurora watched him go. She smiled to herself; there was no way she ever thought this possible, Henry here and wanting to be with her. She wasn’t entirely sure this creeping feeling would happen to her again. Still the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach dragged up emotions she would rather forget. They had been eating at her all day, sitting in the back of her mind, ever so silently reminding her they were there. The happiness she felt with Henry twinged with sadness. She checked the date on her phone. No wonder, it was almost that day again. Sometimes, the absence of his presence was a tidal wave she almost drowned in, other times, it was a beautiful reminder of what they shared, either way, she could never predict how it would go.

Closing and locking the door behind Pickles, Aurora turned off the lights and followed the light to her bedroom. Henry was sprawled on the bed, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“ I think we should reschedule the festivities tonight” Aurora said, changing out of her clothes.

“The spirit is willing, but the body is tired” Henry made a move to sit up.

She looked at him as she hung up her dress.

“Why do you torture me?” Henry winced.

Aurora chuckled as she pulled on a t-shirt.

“I don’t” Aurora turned off the light and got into bed, Henry pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve flown all this way and you get naked after I’ve eaten and gotten slightly drunk and tired, this is not fair” Henry whined.

Aurora chuckled.

“Go to sleep Henners”

“You give me cute nicknames. I like it, I need to find you one,” He mumbled as sleep overtook him. Seconds later, Henry was snoring gently. Aurora felt the darkness still around her, she had the worlds most wanted man entwined around her body right now, and all she could feel was the heavy guilt that she didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t how anything was supposed to work out. How was this fair for anyone?

Aurora saw him, there in the dark. He smiled at her, frozen in time. He reached out his hand to her; Aurora grabbed at him and pulled him closer. She held his hand and he pulled it from her grasp. He kept moving away from her, a smile on his lips.

Soon though, she saw him, a mess of broken bones. His mouth open and screaming in silence, the pain in his eyes boring into hers, suddenly the world came back to her and he screamed her name.

Over and over and over and over, getting louder and louder each time, his screams drowning out anything else she was hearing. The pain crushed her chest; breathing was becoming harder to do, her body shaking with every breath that became harder to take.

Aurora woke up suddenly and fell out of the bed; she knew what was happening, as tears sprung to her eyes as she tried to breathe in the dark. All of a sudden light flooded her vision and pickles was by her side.

“Aurora?” She looked up to see a man on her bed making his way to her, she put her hand out to stop him. Her brain was frenzied trying to catch up with the changes in her room, her body panicking and not holding a breath.

“Aurora”

She looked up again and recognized Henry, she shook her head as she continued gasping for air, her lungs burning with lack of oxygen.

“What’s happening?” Suddenly he was in front of her, his hands on her, she felt pickles’ nose on her chest, her dog trying to get her to move.

“Pickles, baby, move.” Henry said, tyring to push her out of the way.

“Panic attack” She rasped.

“What?”

Aurora grasped for a breath and was able to hold it fleetingly.

“Panic attack…pickles ESA” she managed to get out.

Henry’s eyes dawned with understanding. He moved her against the wall, he grabbed her hands and put them above her head, Aurora doubled over, wanting to remain curled over herself.

“No Aurora, open your chest.” He put his hand on her sternum.

“I’m going to lightly push in, I need you to breathe in and push back with every breath ok?” she nodded.

Tears streaming down her face, she looked up to the ceiling trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Slowly, she was able to drag in breath after breath, she was able to hold it in her chest and bring her body out of the trauma it was going through. Eventually, Henry let go of her hands and she fell into a sobbing heap on the floor. She felt Henry lay down next to her, holding her in his arms until the sobs subsided and the tears dry on her face.

“Sweetheart?”

“I had a panic attack. I was dreaming and I must’ve woken up mid panic attack. I’m sorry for waking you’

“Don’t be. It was scary; you sorta fell outta bed and were just terrified. I didn’t know what to do, I’m sorry.”

Silence enveloped them. Henry Moved behind her.

“come on, the bed is much more comfortable” He bent down to pick up her small frame, and gently placed her on the mattress. He crawled in next to her and pulled the covers around them. Aurora stared at him.

“Thank you for helping, and not running away” Her voice small and barely audible, Henry kissed her.

“Do you need anything?” She shook her head.

Henry watched her until her eyes closed and sleep overcame her exhausted body.

~~~~~~~~

Henry woke to the sunbeams trying to break through the curtains; it took him a minute for him to catch up to the events of last night. Despite that, the beach and the heat had lulled him into some of the best sleep of his life. He turned his head to Aurora. Her breathing was steady and even, she looked a little pale, but he figured that was because her body was exhausted. He felt movement on the end of bed and looked down to see pickles looking up him. Slowly he got out of bed and pottered to the kitchen, the jangle of Pickles’ collar following him.

“Hungry?” Pickles let out a bark.

“Shhhhh! Your mum is sleeping” He looked around the kitchen and started to familiarize himself with it. He found tea, enough bread, milk and fruit as well as yogurt to fill him up. Looking in another cupboard he found protein powder and a variety of nuts, but he couldn’t find the dog food. He turned back to Pickles.

“Fluffy butt, where’s your food?”

Pickles walked over to the room next to the kitchen nearest the back door.  Henry followed her and found the laundry where he found her walking harness and the biggest bag of food possible. There was a little fridge next to it that he opened, Pickles ran straight for it and stuffed her face into a packet of doggy meatballs. Henry dragged her out of the way, so he could feed her.

Pickles settled into her bowl of food and Henry opened the curtains, the early morning sun peeking through the trees in the backyard.

Henry opened the door for Pickles as she ran outside to relieve herself. He fixed himself some breakfast, careful not to wake Aurora.

He sat down on the porch watching Pickles wander around, it was starting to get hot already, and he wanted to go to the beach. Finding Aurora’s keys he then strapped Pickles into her harness and made his way out of the house. For a 14 year old, Pickles was a lot stronger than he thought, she practically dragged him down the street.

 ~~~~~~~~

An hour later, they made their way back home, Pickles very much satisfied; for once she walked at Henry’s side. He looked down at her, she was tired, and she’d probably nap for the rest of the day.

He unbuckled her harness as he opened the door, Pickles lazily walked inside, and took up residence in a sunny spot by the back door, and she lay down with a huff, not intending to move for the rest of the day. Henry smiled at her. Closing the door he noticed the TV was on, he turned to the couch to see Aurora sitting there, looking at him. She smiled weakly at him as he made his way to her.

She looked at him as he sat next to her.

“Henry, I need to talk to you”.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x ofc #australia #aussie aussie aussie oi oi oi #straya #henry cavill fluff #Spotify

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Three: Risk It All

Always Golden Masterlist

I hope you’re enjoying this story so far! I have a feeling you’re going to love where it goes from here.

TW: This chapter contains themes and descriptions of domestic abuse

Love is a minefield, Ashley knew that, Harry knew that, the whole world knows that, but after what happened at Harry’s house and how Will reacted to it, Ashley knew she had to cut Harry out of her life again. She avoided his calls, ignored his messages, there was no way she could carry on, knowing what she knew. Since that night she had done everything in her power to rebuild things with Will, and it was working, they were happy. Now here she was, at her third Capital Jingle Bell Ball since she became a presenter, Roman was on the other side of the world in the middle of the jungle, so she had full responsibility for the breakfast show. Ashley was no stranger to the O2, she knew the corridors backstage like the back of her hand, she had lost track of how many times she’d seen the boys there. As she turned around yet another corner, her head in her phone replying to Will about how Daisy was getting on, she looked up to see Harry and his team walking towards her, she spun on her heel, walking away from him frantically, before bumping into yet another pop sensation. “Hey, where are you rushing off to Ash?” She looked up to see Liam, beaming at her.

“I’m just very busy, lots to do now Ro’s not here.” She explained, praying that Harry wouldn’t spot her.

“Do you want to go have a catch up? There’s like five hours until the show starts, I’m sure they can spare you until then.” Liam asked.

“You know what, that sounds like a great idea.”

An hour or so had passed and Liam and Ashley were chatting away in his dressing room, they compared how much Bear and Daisy had grown up, and how much the two little ones needed to meet. “Ash, I don’t want to pry, but is everything okay with you and Harry? I only ask because I would expect to see you here together. I remember the days when the pair of you were completely inseparable.” 

“It’s complicated, we had this massive argument two years ago, and ever since then things have been weird between us, I don’t know if things will ever be what they once were.” Ashley explained.

“It’s cliched I know, but give him time, eventually, it will work okay.” Their conversation was interrupted by a light tap on the door, “Come in!” Liam called, the door opened and there stood Harry, in a casual t-shirt and trousers, paired with a pearl necklace. 

He stared at Ashley as she stared at him, “I really need to crack on with getting ready, can’t present the ball wearing trackies can I? I’ll see you soon Liam.” She made her way past Harry, taking in his familiar scent as she rushed back to her dressing room. 

It was almost midway through the show and Ashley was standing beside Liam watching Harry prance around on stage. He made his way through a few songs, stopping to talk to the audience as he always did. When he began singing Watermelon Sugar the arena erupted in screams, Ashley hopped along to it, because admittedly, it was a bop. But then it hit her, like a slap in the face, he’d changed a lyric and put her name in it, she wasn’t stupid, she knew what his game was, and Harry knew exactly what he was doing. “Did he just?” Liam asked.

“Yeah he did, and I’m going to throttle him.”

After the show and another several hours of successfully avoiding Harry, Ashley made her way back to her dressing room, dressed in her sparkly silver mini dress she had been wearing all day. “We need to talk.” Harry said, as he stood waiting for her outside her dressing room.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Ashley told him bluntly, unlocking her dressing room door.

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” Harry replied.

“Yes it is, now fuck off.” Ashley said, entering her dressing room as Harry followed behind her, “What the fuck is your problem Harry?” she asked as he closed the door behind them.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel it.” Harry said, standing directly in front of her.

“Feel what?” She looked up at him, he was so close she could feel his breath on her skin.

“Tell me you don’t want me, tell me to leave and never come back and I promise I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see me again.” Ashley stayed silent, not knowing what to do or say, “You can’t, can you? You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same because you do, we both know how we feel why should we have to-” His ramblings were interrupted by Ashley’s lips locking with his, her hands combing through his messy hair, Harry took hold of her waist, holding her close and not daring to let go. Ashley didn’t have a clue what she was doing, all of her wanted to stay strong and not give in, but it was like she needed it, she needed him. “You have no idea how long I've waited to do that.” Harry whispered, resting his forehead against Ashley’s, “Trust me, I do.” She whispered, taking a hold of his hands and interlocking her fingers with his.

19th December 2019

Harry and Ashley hadn’t spoken much since the Jingle Bell Ball, part of Ashley felt dreadful for kissing Harry when she was in a relationship with Will, but part of her didn’t even think anything would come of what happened with Harry. Will had reluctantly accepted Harry’s invite as Ashley’s plus one to his small album release show, it was somewhat relieving for Ashley to know that he was willing to be civil with Harry. Lou had offered to babysit Daisy for the night so that the pair could treat themselves to a proper night out. Thankfully Camden was only a short tube ride from home, so they promptly made it to the venue where hundreds of fans were already camped out in the harsh winter weather of London. Harry’s security recognised Ashley immediately and led her and Will to the backstage area, where some of Harry’s close friends and family were already waiting. “Ash! It’s so good to see you!” Gemma ran over to them both, greeting Ashley with the biggest hug, making up for lost time, “How’ve you been?” 

“Good, busy but good, how are you? It feels like it's been forever since I’ve seen you.” 

“I’m good, life’s busy once again, my brother is so glad you’re here tonight, since you two got back in contact with each other he’s had a real spring in his step.” Gemma smiled, “Are you coming up north for Christmas this year?” in a bid to avoid Harry, her last two Christmasses had been spent with Linda and Daisy in London.

“We’re at my parents’ in Norfolk this year,” Will chimed in.

“Will, we’ve been through this, Dais and I are coming down on the 28th after we’ve had christmas with mum,” Ashley sighed, “Oh, Gem, this is Will, Will this is Gemma, Harry’s sister.” she felt as though she was babysitting him, that she couldn’t truly be herself while he was hovering beside her. 

“Lovely to meet you,” Gemma smiled.

Everyone had been sat in the green room for a good hour and Harry was still nowhere to be seen, Ashley felt her phone buzz, she pulled it from her pocket to see a message from Harry: dressing room x

“I’m just going to pop to the ladies room, I won’t be long,” She smiled at Will, standing up from the sofa they shared before heading out into the corridor, she quickly found Harry’s dressing room and gently pushed the door open to see him sprawled out on the sofa reading a book, “So this is what a rockstar does with his spare time.” She said, crossing her arms as she leant against the frame of the door.

“What can I say I’m a man of simplicity,” Harry smirked, standing up to greet Ashley, he moved towards her, stretched his arm over her shoulder to push the door shut, “How long have we got?” 

“How long does it take to have a wee?” Ashley asked.

“What?”

“Will thinks I’ve gone to the toilet.” She smirked.

“That's long enough for me,” Harry told her, cupping her cheeks and pressing her delicate lips against his, Ashley steadied herself, holding onto the delicate fabric of Harry’s shirt.

“Do you want to come back to the green room?” Ashley asked softly.

“I’d rather stay here with you,” Harry whispered. 

“I don’t want Will thinking I was taking a shit, come on, I’ll say I found you on the way back.” Ashley insisted, taking his hand and proceeding to exit.

“Just one more,” Harry pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her waist as they became entwined with each other.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Harry Lambert shouted as the pair entered the green room, drawing the entire room’s attention to the pair of them.

“Found him loitering in the corridor just now.” Ashley lied, returning to her seat beside Will, where Harry joined her.

“Good to see you again Will, thanks for coming,” Harry smiled.

“Thanks for having us.” Will replied, Ashley felt caught in the middle, she didn’t know what to say or who to say it to.

“Harry your guest is here,” Jeff informed him from across the room.

“You’re going to want to see this Ash,” Harry told her, taking her hand and leading her out of the green room, leaving Will on his own. 

“Have you bought Santa along or something?” Ashley asked as Harry led her down the corridor, still gripping her hand.

“Not quite, you’re going to love it though.” Harry led her around the corner, to where none other than Stormzy was standing talking to Sarah and Mitch.

“Hey Harry! My G, how’s it going brother?” he said, greeting Harry with a hug.

“I’m doing well, thanks for coming along today, it means a lot.” Harry smiled, “This is Ash, from back home,” Harry put an arm around her shoulder, holding her close.

“We’ve already met, Ash is on Capital, she knows what's going on.”

“Oh bless him, we’ve ruined his little surprise,” Ashley remarked, squeezing Harry’s little pouty face, “It’s good to see you again though, we need to get you back on the show soon.”

“Definitely, tell Roman to give me a bell, I’ve got to go get ready, but I’ll see you two later,” He left the pair standing on their own, now Sarah and Mitch had returned to the green room.

“Proper little industry know it all aren’t you love?” Harry grinned, wrapping both his arms around Ashley and swaying her from side to side, “I’m so proud of you, I don’t think I tell you that enough, what you’ve achieved since moving down to London is remarkable.” 

“You soppy bastard, I’m bloody proud of you too.” Ashley giggled, staring up at him.

“You alright?” Will was standing at the door, Ashley wasn’t sure how long he’d been there for.

“Good, yeah,” Ashley smiled, stepping out of Harry’s embrace. “Just catching up with me old mate Stormzy.”

“Right, I guess we better leave Harry to it, let him get ready and all that.” Will huffed.

“Have a good show H, smash it out there,”  Ashley smiled, “I’m so proud of you rockstar.” 

“Right back at ya golden girl.” Ashley knew what he meant, the first time she heard Golden it freaked her out, but she’d slowly come to terms with Harry’s openness.

Ashley stood in the vip section with all of Harry’s nearest and dearest, waiting for the show to start, she stood between Anne and Gemma, whilst Will was near the back with Gemma’s boyfriend. She’d seen the set list so she knew Harry would sing her song first, eventually the lights went down and Harry and the band appeared on stage as the venue erupted into screams. As he got into it Harry made sure to look up at Ashley, it made him happy to see the three most important women in his life. “I know that you’re scared cause I’m so open” he sang, looking up at Ashley as she blew him a kiss back before dancing with Gemma.

“You bloody legend, you absolutely smashed it!” Ashley shouted as she ran down the corridor towards Harry, the show having just finished. 

“Thank you love,” Harry replied, picking her up and spinning her around. 

“He’s playing with fire there mum,” Gemma whispered to Anne as she noticed the resentment across Will’s face. 

“Ash, I think we should head off, we’ve both got work tomorrow morning. Some of us do have to work for a living.” Will said, walking over to where his girlfriend lent against the wall, giggling away with Harry.

“We’re actually going to a pub for a couple of drinks in a bit, if you’re up for it.” Harry told them both.

“Cheers mate, but I’ve got a splitting headache, Ash I’ll wait for you outside.” He said before walking off.

“Do you have to go?” Harry whispered, stroking Ashley’s hand with his thumb.

“You know I do,” Ashley replied.

“I don’t like the thought of you being alone with him Ash, worries me.” 

“I’m a big girl H, I can look after myself.” Ashley assured him, “But thanks for caring.” She ruffled his hair, “I should go, See you at Christmas?” 

“Not if I see you first.”

The tube ride home was painfully quiet, the pair hardly spoke to each other until getting home, Will kicked off his shoes and headed straight to the kitchen, pulling a can of beer from Ashlley’s fridge. “Thought you had a headache?” Ashley said as she followed him in.

“It was a lie,” Will glanced at her, “But you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ashley asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You and Harry looked very cosy back there.” Will remarked bitterly.

“He’s my best friend, you aren’t jealous are you?”

“Don’t belittle me like that Ashley, I can see what’s going on.” Will replied, swigging beer from his can, “He’s pathetic anyway, I can’t see why you’d want anything to do with him.”

“Get out.” Ashley said bluntly, “We’re over Will, we were over three months ago, when I stayed with you out of pity, get out of my house, the house you’ve treated like your own since we got together.”

“It’s him isn’t it? You’ve been shagging him haven’t you?” Will replied.

“No I haven’t shagged him, because unlike you, he isn’t a cheap bastard who needs his ego polishing every week.”

“You fucking bitch,” Will muttered, grabbing the first thing he could from the shelf beside him and flinging it at Ashley, causing her to fall to the floor, “I hope you two are very happy together.” He said before he kicked her harshly in the stomach.

Ashley had been sitting slumped against the wall of her kitchen for a good half an hour when she heard the front door open, it couldn’t be Will because he didn’t have keys to the house, “Ash? Ash?” Lou entered the kitchen, seeing Ashley leant against the wall, blood rolling down her forehead, “Ash darling, Carly said she heard loads of shouting, I used the spare key to get in, what happened?”

“I broke up with Will, he threw that at me, he was jealous of Harry.” Lou picked up the photo frame, the smashed glass falling to the floor as she did, it held a picture of Ashley and Harry in Brazil, Ashley was 18 and Harry was 20, it was the summer after she had finished her exams, and she felt on top of the world. 

“Ash, I’m going to take you to hospital, when Carly called I asked if she could watch the kids, Daisy’s in safe hands I promise.” Lou explained, helping Ashley up onto her feet.

“You can’t tell Harry about this, I don’t want him doing anything that could ruin his career.” Ashley replied. 

“Let’s just concentrate on you sweetheart.”

For someone who hated hospitals, Ashley slept like a baby, due to the nature of her head injury the doctor wanted to keep her in overnight, just in case there was an internal bleed on the brain. Ashley woke up to a throbbing pain in her head, evidently the morphine had worn off, “Hello sleeping beauty, how’s tricks?” Harry was sat on a plastic stool beside her hospital bed, dressed in a casual hoodie and joggers, he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

“My head’s banging,” Ashley whispered, “How long have you been here?”

“A few hours, I called Lou because I never heard anything from you, and I was worried, she explained what happened and I jumped in a cab and made my way here as quickly as I could.” Harry explained.

“You should know that I broke up with Will last night, hence this,” Ashley told him, gesturing to the stitches and bruising on her face.

“Yeah I figured, the nurses said they called the police when you got here, he’s already being questioned, Ash when this goes to court I’ll be right there beside you, I’ve already contacted my lawyer who’s given me the contacts for the best criminal law barrister she knows, he won’t get away with this.” 

“I’m incredibly grateful for that H, I just don’t want you to expect anything to happen between us so quickly, it’s going to take me time to heal before I can allow myself to be that vulnerable again.” Ashley explained.

“I’ll wait, however long it takes, I promise I’ll wait for you.” Harry assured her, taking her hand in his, “I'm never letting you slip through my fingers again angel.”

#golden music video #BEST FRIEND HARRY #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfic #handsome #one shot #watermelon sugar #one direction #one direction memes #harry styles one shot #imagine #sign of the times #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #Timothee Chalamet #fanfiction #emotions

[lilacslovers]

💎 Lilac x Gordie {Royalty + Royal Guard AU Fic} Chapter One | The Meeting 💎

aaa i’m so happy! i’ve finished a fic of the first meeting of my s/i and gordie in the royalty au <3

yes it does say chapter one but. idk if this a proper series, its possibly a figurative ‘lets start from chapter one !’ its also just. omg it’s just a chapter like. not even a drabble. just a whole chapter HSJSND

but i truly hope you guys enjoy this! :0 (fic is in the keep reading !! ^^)

•••

The dark oak-stained carriage rattled around Lilac with every prance of Rapidash transporting it, the tight space and cool, pillowy seats barely making up for the sheer cold she was moving into.

In her gloved hands lied a handwritten letter from the Royals in Circhester; a neat cursive paragraph requesting her and her other guard apprentices to protect their home. After all, they would need good protection to hide their most precious jewels in the family, and they required the best of the best. In a way, it flattered Lilac to know they wanted her to assist them.

She folded the letter back into her sac tied at her waist, cuddling into her cape in shock from the sudden Circhesterian chill; she wasn’t too far from the castle now, and wished that they could’ve made her Royal Guard uniform more cozy inside. Perhaps they considered this weather late spring or summer temperatures...

Off guard, the shrill of Rapidash’s cry as it finally came to a halt nearly catapulted her into the rock-hard wood in front of her. She gasped in relief to have caught herself in time, straightening herself to correct such unawareness.

A crunch came from the snow as she dropped down from her carriage, a bag with her necessities slinged over her armoured shoulder. Walking to the near entrance, she turned to the coachman.

“Brr, it’s quite cold around here! You better stay safe in that house, Lilac!” he said, smiling cheerfully.

“Thank you, coachman.” she replied, turning next to the Rapidash, stroking its soft mane.

“And thank you, Rapidash.” she grinned at the Pokémon, in which it whinnied gleefully in response.

Walking across the tiled road to Circhester Castle, the snowy bushes brushed up against her, gorgeously grown flowers to withstand the eternal cold peeked their heads out of the fluffy hedges. Already employed guards outside were gossiping to each other about the family; perhaps they were new guards, like herself. Lilac halted, gaining the attention of the two guards at the grand door they stood up against.

Lilac decided to break the tension between them.

“I am incredibly sorry to interrupt. I am Lilac. I am here to sign myself into the occupation of Guard. I have a letter from the castle itself if you were to want it-“

Before her quiet voice were to finish her sentence, the doors loudly creaked open, revealing the Queen herself; the entrance surprised all three of the guards, yet they all retained the same serious face to show their composure. The Queen gave Lilac a stern look...

“Oh!” came the cheery exclamation of the Queen Melony, holding her hand to her face. “Welcome, dear! I suppose you must be the new Indoor Guard, correct?”

“I- um,” Lilac mumbled, clearing her throat to free the words she had before being surprised. “Yes, your Majesty. I have brought your letter. It is an honour to work with you.”

“Come inside!” invited the Queen. “‘Tis warmer in here, after all! I’ll show you to your position here in the castle.”

“Ah, thank you, your Majesty.”

•••

The warmth of the castle quickly defrosted Lilac’s freezing arms, and the sudden relaxation couldn’t help but make her stare in wonder at the details within: the castle walls were extremely high, regal tapestries hung. Across the tapestries came multiple family portraits from popular artists, and looking closely at the painting would reveal details drawn ever so to-the-point, it made Lilac ponder how someone could even make such a realistic piece in a time limit...

“Oh, I must say,” the Queen began to state. “My children can be quite the troublemakers, hoho... My youngest, a daughter and three sons, I believe they sometimes choose whom they like to see more often, more with my sons, I think. But... my oldest...”

She stopped in her tracks, and so did Lilac.

“... Well, he’s heir to the Throne, now. He possibly cannot choose who he works with, hoho!”

“I see, your Majesty.” Lilac lightly smiled to match the emotion of the Queen’s conversation. “I shall wish the Prince congratulations on being first to the Throne.”

“Oh, he would simply love that,” the Queen chortled. “He is quite the sensible man. I do hope he is excited to rule... I’ve had quite the years around here.”

It was hard for Lilac to decipher who this Prince was; after all, the long generations of family portraits across the wall couldn’t help Lilac’s imagination at all.

Queen Melony pointed to a space by a door, where Lilac stationed herself onto.

“Perfect! Your routine will to be to guard at this area, as well as to watch the household members around here if needed.

You will also patrol around here with other guards around 12 to 1 o’clock PM. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Lilac agreed, straightening herself stoically. The Queen promptly smiled, and as she went out of sight, another guard poked their head out from the corner.

“Psst, hey. New guard.” they squeaked.

Lilac made eye contact with the other new guard.

“Have you seen Prince Gordie yet?”

“Who?”

“Prince Gordie!” another guard peeped. “C’mon, ‘who?’ Like, the Prince that is, like, constantly just... around? And cool?”

“I really don’t mean to be out of the loop, but...” Lilac held her chin to think. “I haven’t heard anything about any Prince Gordie... All I heard back from my town was when the Queen of Circhester came to visit, and when she did, it was never a ‘visit’ visit, only a ‘come to check out the best carriages’ visit.”

“Oh my Arceus, the Prince...!” yet another guard joined the conversation. “He looked shortly at me once. I just... I felt so seen...”

Oh, brother. Lilac looked away, until the commotion of the group caught her attention once again.

“Ah, look, there he comes...!”

A man came from the depths of the hallway, and suddenly it felt like everything was going slower - or perhaps Lilac was imagining things...

The man had his soft hair tied into a well-kept short ponytatail, as well as his soft and cute lapis eyes kept relaxed and sensual.

He walked with such confidence only a prince could ever have, his cape drifting gently across the satin carpets below. A slight jingling sound came from his minimalistic, yet beautiful necklace around his collar, the pendant resting on his chest where his relaxed blouse shaped the area around such jewellery.

His shoes lightly skipped across the satin carpets to not make even one noise, yet his heels made an dull tap that satisfyingly echoed across the area.

Whatever decent vision Lilac had of the Prince completely went from her mind; the Prince of Circhester, in her eyes, was indeed quite more handsome than she thought.

The guards squealed in delight, making all sorts of gestures to make Prince Gordie look over.

“Gordie! Could you please have a quick discussion with us? We need to talk to you about something?”

... And suddenly, all light the Prince had in his eyes disappeared as soon as he looked at them.

“... Gordie?” his deep, muttering voice repeated, his eyebrows furrowed. Lilac could see the optimism drain from the group, herself shivering along with them even if not involved.

“Never, in all my life, have I heard a stranger call me only by my first name. From what I recall, my title here is ‘Prince Gordie of Circhester’. Is that correct?” his angered voice paused for a while to let the guards rapidly nod their heads, truly attempting to not get into trouble.

“Yes. Now, all I want to hear from you few now is to refer to me as ‘Prince Gordie’. If you cannot, then ‘your Highness’, but if you can’t even manage a formal tone with a prince, you shall expect to be evicted from this castle. Is that understood?”

The guards nodded once again, mumbling out a few ‘Understood, Prince Gordie’s out from their held breath.

“Now. Don’t you have some patrolling to do? It is, after all, 12 o’clock. Go.”

The guards scurried away slowly, cowering from the unfortunate interaction.

Lilac, afraid herself of getting into an altercation, began to steadily inch her way around one corner.

“Please wait.” the Prince interrupted in a much normal, albeit naturally deep tone. Lilac hastily straightened her back once again, turned to face him.

“I did not mean you, I apologise for any confusion.” he stated, grinning. “It’s not actually 12, I just wanted them to leave, hehe.”

“My complete mistake, your Highness.” Lilac replied. “That is quite a tactic to make somebody leave, it’s certainly impressive, your Highness.”

“Hm,” Prince Gordie hummed, taking his chin with one hand. “Tell me, what is your name?”

Lilac paused, finding herself quite confounded at his question; oftentimes, asking for a guard’s name would be informal, as was taught in training.

“Ah, um, if you want it, It’s Lilac, your Highness.”

“Lilac, eh?” Prince Gordie grinned to himself. “A fitting, lovely name for a lovely guard.”

Lilac’s heart struck from the compliment, trying not to show any emotion upon her face, but the Prince began to speak again.

“I must go. I have quite a lot of errands to do.” he sighed, flicking his hair away from his vision.

“But, I do hope to see you again... Lilac.”

Prince Gordie gave a wave as he walked back out of the corridor, Lilac waving goodbye at the same time. As soon as he went completely, she faced the brick wall, intensely pondering the peculiar conversation she had had...

Surely...? Surely, he wasn’t trying to get her into trouble...? But, why would he take interest of only getting her name? Perhaps he was... No, absolutely not, Princes don’t form relationships with their servants...!

Unless, Prince Gordie wanted to?

Nevertheless, Lilac herself had duties to do. But, as she began to walk away, she couldn’t help but think as she rested her palm on her blushing cheek...

#also all those guards r in fact. me FDGFGJLKGDGH #well not mE but. gordie is v cool <3 #aupril 2021 #au april 2021 #lilakuwa #self ship au #self ship community #self ship fic #self ship aus #self ship royalty au #self ship writing #s/i x f/o #s/i x canon #romantic f/o #romantic fictional other #pokemon self ship #pokemon swsh self ship #pokemon self shipping #pokemon self shipper #pokemon self ship au

[svnflowervol666]

Before You Go (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: angst

Author’s Note: This was based on a request to write a bit about Harry based on the song Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi! I switched up the context a bit to give it a happy ending like the anon requested, but I hope you all still enjoy regardless. This was a ton of fun for me to write, so thank you anon for sending it my way! Let me know what you all would like to see next from me! Take care and tpwk.

The night before Harry left for tour was meant to be a peaceful night in with his girl. They were supposed to enjoy a home-cooked meal that they prepared together and spend the rest of the evening loving on each other before Harry left for his three-month-long tour. Somewhere along the line, an argument had broken out and it escalated to the point where they were both shouting some of the nastiest and most heartbreaking things to each other that they’d regretted as soon as the words left their mouth. They said things that would take a long time to forgive each other for, and it did. Both Harry and Y/N went to bed without saying “I love you,” something that they swore a thousand times to never do.

In the morning, she didn’t even bother telling him goodbye. Harry was made to see himself out on his own while she refused to even acknowledge his presence at their bedroom door when he was telling her he had to leave for the airport. His heart never truly stopped hurting. He texted her every once in a while just to let her know he had made it to whichever city he was headed to. She always opened them immediately, so he knew she was at least eager to hear of his safe travels. Each night, at exactly 10pm London time where their shared home was, she’d receive a call from Harry. He wanted to talk to her, but she never answered. Harry figured out after the fourth or fifth call that he’d inevitably end up talking to a voicemail machine instead of his lover (if that’s what she even considered herself to be anymore), but he did it anyway. Every nightly voicemail consisted of Harry telling Y/N about his day and about how he was sorry for the things that he said that night and how he wished she’d at least pick up the phone so he could hear her voice. She never did. And that broke Harry even more.

From her end, she’d spent the first few weeks without Harry wallowing in her own sorrows. No one saw her aside from her closest friend who had to force her out of bed and make her take a shower and eat a real meal that wasn’t popcorn and an entire bottle of wine. It felt like a breakup, but she knew it wasn’t. At least she hoped it wasn’t. It was clear from Harry’s nightly voicemails that he still cared about her and wanted to sort through all that was said the night before he left, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to pick up the phone.

She was embarrassed. The things that happened that night were things she wished she could bury and never think about for the rest of her life, but they haunted her every time she saw his name a contact photo illuminate her phone screen. Harry didn’t deserve someone who shouted at him the things that she shouted, and he certainly didn’t deserve someone that couldn’t even pick up the phone when he called to apologize and say goodnight.

More time passed. Y/N had slowly started to communicate more with Harry. Sure, it was only once every few days to let him know that she was at least doing alright, but this something was better than nothing. He still called every night and she still hadn’t found the courage to answer. It wasn’t until one particularly rough night that Harry was finally able to hear his girl’s voice after all of this time that he’d been touring the world without her.

She had had a little spa day for herself at home, treating herself to one of the expensive face masks that Harry had bought her for Valentine’s Day whilst soaking in a tub filled with her favorite bath fizzy. After letting her skin turn wrinkly and the water go lukewarm, she hopped out and reached for her favorite body butter. She worked it into her sore muscles, giving herself her own massage of some sort. When she reached the aching heel of her foot, she paused. There, faded but still visible, was the smiley face tattoo that Harry had given her when they had gotten tipsy one night during a vacation in Mexico. Harry had a matching one on the bottom of his big toe (she had drunkenly insisted that they both give each other tattoos so they looked like a proper couple). The happy memory resonated deep in her belly and made her feel sick. How could she have let their relationship come to this? How could she have just let him quite literally walk out on her without talking through their fight?

Harry’s call came like clockwork, and as expected, Y/N didn’t answer. But what Harry didn’t know was that while she normally waited until morning to listen to what he had to say to her that night, she picked up her phone immediately after getting the notification that she had a voicemail this time. His voice sounded tired and exhausted, meaning it must have been extremely late wherever he was (she cursed herself internally for forgetting where he told her he was in his last voicemail). The first half of his message was typical, letting her know how the show went and that he was sticking by his promise to drink more water while he was on the road. It was the last half of his message that stuck out to her, that made her heart shatter even more than it had when she’d seen the tattoo on the bottom of her foot.

“I know I hurt ye’ bad, but... I just....... Is there somethin’ I could have said before I left tha’ would’ve made all of this go away? Fuck, Y/N. I should have made you talk t’ me. I shouldn’t have just walked out. I’m sorry, baby. Anyways, I’m off t’ soundcheck now. I’m guessin’ you’re probably in bed too or you just don’t wanna talk t’ me still which is fine too. Good night.... I love you.”

Before she could even comprehend what she was doing, her fingers had pressed the redial button and she heard Harry’s voice in real time. She felt adrenaline course through her veins when he spoke her name through the tiny speaker of her cell phone.

“Y/N?”

“Harry,” her voice broke up through the salty, wet tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“Y/N,” Harry repeated more seriously this time, “’s everything alright? Talk t’ me.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” her tears flowed freely now as sobs wracked through her body and made her soul ache.

“Baby, ye’ gotta breathe. Come back t’ me, yeah? Just focus on your breathing.”

Even from halfway across the globe and in a completely different time zone, Harry was able to calm her down. Quite frankly, Harry would have done anything to hear his lover’s voice again, but this certainly wasn’t how he’d pictured she’d sound after all this time. He knew his crew was waiting on him back in the arena where he was doing a practice run of the show, but he couldn’t care less. 

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked once he heard her sobs subside into soft whimpers.

“I...,” she paused as if what she was about to tell Harry would hurt her physically.

“I need to see you. I’m ready to talk.”

//

She shifted uncomfortably in the airplane seat as it landed smoothly on the landing strip. Out of all of her years on this earth, she didn’t think she had ever been this nervous. The conversation she was about to have with Harry was one that was months in the making, and she had no idea how she was going to react once she finally saw him with her own two eyes instead of through posts on instagram and twitter. She had no idea how she was going to react when she was finally able to touch him again, or if he didn’t want to touch her again. The thought had crossed her mind that he might end things with her while she was out here, but she knew deep down that it was just her anxiety getting the best of her. Harry told her he loved her every night and put so much effort into letting her know that he still wanted to make things work with her, so she tried her best to hold her bearings and remain in one piece.

As the plane rolled to a halt, she realized Harry was waiting for her smack dab in the middle of the tarmac. He was bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants and she could make out his oversized pearl necklace despite being several yards away from him. She didn’t need to be closer to him to see that he looked tired and unlike the way he did when he smiled and pranced about on stage each night. Maybe he had been taking this fight just as harshly as she was.

Y/N felt her heart beat in her ears as the steps automatically lowered themselves onto the ground to allow her to exit the plane. The cool air hit her in the face as she made her way down with her small suitcase filled with enough clothes for a few days in tow. Harry was looking directly at her as she descended the plane, but she couldn’t do the same. It wasn’t until she standing right in front of him that she lifted her head up from where she had been staring at her feet that she finally made eye contact with the green-eyed creature that she’d called her lover for years now.

Nothing was said, only a bone-crushing hug was shared between them as they reuinited. It was too windy to hear the sobs that escaped from both of their lips, but they each knew the other was crying due to the way the other’s chest heaved with each breath. They were as close as they possibly could have been. She had her head tucked into his neck while he burried his face in her hair, and they stood idle in the center of a busy airport in a foreign country. It didn’t matter to them, though. All of these weeks spent wondering how the other felt whilst being too scared to confront the other about it had whithered away into nothing. They were back with each other, and they knew they’d be alright.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

[angelisverba]

golden

in which y/n’s life is dark, but the fae king sees she’s golden.

word count: 12k

pairing: y/n and the Fae King, Harry

warnings: allusion to suicidal thoughts, angst, & a very sad reader.

note: This is my fic for the #FineLineFicChallenge that @hsogolden is hosting. I submitted for Golden! Enjoy :)

It was a known fact, that one isn’t to mess with the Fae. 

Don’t try to communicate with them.

Don’t try to find them.

Don’t do anything with them.

Masters of twisting the truth because they cannot tell lies, the ethereal beings were dangerous in the sense that they cared not for anything but their own interest. If they wanted your lover, they would do everything to take them from you. 

But y/n wasn’t one to listen to the rules. 

Especially one that promised her a better life, at no cost other than to seek it.

Her life wasn’t exactly shit, but it also wasn’t enjoyable. It was bland. And, to put it straight, lonely.

She had no family, and no friends or lovers. Life had made surviving her number one priority, and bouncing from job to job her favorite hobby. The girl lived in an apartment that had her feeling like a heroin addict, and she’d never had a dose of drugs in her life that wasn’t Tylenol. And, well, she had the looks of one; a feral, dead look in her eye accompanied with a malnourished body from eating what her pocket change allowed her to: ramen noodles. 

It was pathetic. She had to shower using a cup because the overhead didn’t work, and she couldn’t sit because the bathtub was full of rust on the edges. Her walls were cracked and at night there was a faint scratching of nails in the ceiling. The sink was missing a knob, the light bulb in the mini-fridge didn’t work, and neither did the one in her room. 

But, she couldn’t complain because it was all she could afford. Y/n was grateful that she had a roof over her head, even if it was infested with rats, and the cheapest, tattered clothes on her back. At least she had food, water, clothes, and a home, right? Even if it was the worst quality and her unfortunate state of mind made it worse?

View it however, she was done. Had been for a long time, but she didn’t really know how to stop, how to live a new life.

Until that night.

        *                                                *              *

                                                   *                                **

It was another lonely night for y/n, and those she usually spent in chic bars she would never be able to afford, sipping on drinks and observing. Learning; mentally taking notes of how rich people lived their lives and all the mannerisms that came with it because maybe, just maybe, if she acted like one, she’d be one. That dainty toss of the wrist, the graceful, hypnotizing tilt of the chin that told a man you were interested.

She didn’t dress like she was going to the bar, which made her stick out like a sore thumb in the high-ceiling, leather-furnished, glass-walled place, and she didn’t drink alcoholic beverages. She sat at the far end of the bar counter, sipping on a glass of tap water the bartender gave her because he pitied her, and watched. That last part didn’t really matter because it turned out, rich people got more drunk than people with less money than them-- a blacked out woman (or three) ending up on the marble floors at the end of their outing. Men never tried to talk to her because she always showed up in ragged jeans and shirts with holes in them, and women wouldn’t even look her way. 

That is of course, until another dead-eyed person walked up to the counter. 

She was a Scottish woman, or maybe Irish-- y/n couldn’t remember much. Only that she talked of fairies prancing and singing around mushroom tops and a fairy king that got angry when she said thank you. Drunken slurs, that were only made more incomprehensible by her accent, spilled from her lips at the first sip of brandy, and at the sound of her foreign tone, y/n’s ears perked to hang onto every word.

“Never in my forty two years of putrid life did I see something like that, and I doubt I ever will again.” The woman said to the bartender. She was wearing a sleeveless cardigan the color of hazelnuts when they’ve fallen off trees, decorated with golden medallions that jingled every time she moved her shoulders. Big, was an appropriate word to describe her hair; voluminous, blown out Barbie waves that plumped at the top of her head and bounced all down her back to end at her hips. Her eyes were an engaging amber color, the kohl black charcoal on her eyelids enhancing them like boiling magma, the reddish-brown shade in stark similarity with the blood-red shade of paint on her thick lips. “Dance with us, to your heart's content, so fun you’ll want to never stop, them little brats tried to get me, they did! If it hadn’t been for the Fae King, well--” she huffed, a jerking movement with her entire body, “-- I wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure.”

The bartender, a middle-aged man in a flannel with a 5 o’clock shadow sprinkled on the lower half of his face, pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as he wiped down a shot glass with a rag. “Sure as hell never seen a drunk lady talk about faeries before. Santa Claus? Sure, but faeries? You must be on some heavy stuff, ma’am.”

Y/n was staring into the center of her glass, watching the water ripple, strangely comforted by the slow movement of the liquid; her fingers tapped rhythmically at the ridges molded into the edges of the cup. It looked as if she wasn’t paying attention, with eyes cast downwards, but every inch of her was standing on edge, eager for a story. Essentially, this was the reason why she came to these bars when she felt like it, to catch a story; be entertained. Her own life wasn’t enough, she needed more, even if it didn’t belong to her.

“Aye, lassie!” shouted the woman, lifting her glass with a pointed finger towards the lonely girl at the other end of the bar. 

At her loud exclamation, y/n glanced up to see what was the cause of the remark, and found the woman looking at her with a peculiar, interested look in her eye. Y/n twisted to look behind her, oblivious that the woman’s true subject was her. Expecting someone to be standing where the woman pointed, she returned to her original position, confused. 

“Lassie, it’s you I’m talkin’ to, listen to this tube, says faeries aren’t real. You believe me don’t you?”

Because the feeling of humor was so scarce in her life, it had turned into a strange and foreign feeling rendering her useless in how to react-- and while y/n found the woman humorous in her drunken ramblings, she wasn’t quite sure how to express it. A wormy smile played on her lips as she nodded her response, the bartender throwing her a bewildered look because it was the first time he’d seen her interact with anyone other than him.

“Well den, I guess you’ll listen to me, won't you? I’ve gotto tell sumone or I’ll go radge.” The woman throws her head back and finishes what’s left of her drink, wiggling two fingers at the bartender to signal: she wants another. Y/n watches from her seat as the lady hops off her seat, one hand on the counter to keep her standing as she wobbles over in her direction; the medallions on her cardigan tinkling with every swish of her hips. When she stood, the dull heels of her knee high boots slapped against the sleek floor, the noise making y/n jump.

“Listen, here,” she sat on the empty bar stool next to y/n with a labored huff, “don’t you ever go walking round the woods on a full moon. My own mother been telling me that since I was on her tit, and I should have listened.” Her tone was slightly spiteful, and exasperated at her own action. She made the same gesture at the young girl, two long-nailed fingers curling and drawing y/n closer to her, as if she was going to tell her a secret. 

Never go walking in the woods on a full moon.

“The trees- they speak. Got ears I’m telling ya,” The woman’s voice rasped at her hushed tone. “Will o’ wisps are sweet talkers, I’m telling ya!” 

Y/n bit her lip in efforts to keep a building laugh in. The stranger didn’t look at all drunk, she was in complete control of her facial features, and her voice was funky because y/n wasn’t used to the accent. If it hadn’t been for the tell-tale empty glasses she kept generating, one wouldn’t even be able to tell. 

Finally deciding to propel the conversation further, she said, “Is that so?” 

“Swear on the Fae King himself, I do! Told me to find the mushrooms for a good time, coz I was out for a piss half mad with moonshine. Knew what they were doin, they did. I thought they meant those that make ya loopy, shite don’t even know what made me listen to them.” She grumbles the last part to herself, her chin tilting down to touch her chest as she frowns.  

“What happened next?” Y/n asked, propping her chin on the flat of her palm. 

The woman looked up, startled like she’d forgotten there was someone there. “Next? Next…. Next, oh yes!” Crossing her legs, she angled her body sideways to y/n. “Will o’ wisps said to walk the opposite way a clock does around the circle of mushrooms and I did! I did! And, and it got me to the fairy realm. ‘Course I didn’t know until after the king himself told me. But this... this circle of sky opened up-- like,” her head tilts to the side as she thinks of ways to form her thoughts into words. “Like the sky fell and was standing before me. Go through it and find eternal happiness, they told me.”

Walk the opposite way a clock does around the circle of mushrooms. Go through it and find eternal happiness.

As soon as those words left the Scottish woman’s lips, y/n was hooked. A part of herself that had slowly been locked away throughout her pitiful, self-depreciating life, and, that part of her came to life-- it bloomed awake, triggered by the words eternal happiness. An earth-shattering revival.If this woman wasn’t spitting shit, then… this was her chance. 

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Her voice went soft and hazy, recalling the images of a far away land. “It was green… everywhere. And the flowers were alive.” She snaps back into a more solid tone, “They fairies were too-faced little bitches, though.”

Y/n nodded, noting and agreeing. “Tell me more.” 

Needing to further probing, the tales continued. “They tried to get me to eat, to dance. And I nearly did, you know? I would have, had it not been for the king… I’d be dead.” The bartender slid a glass their way, a manicured hand reaching to catch it without turning to look at it. “He saved me from them. He apologized for his subjects actions, even housed me for the night, and escorted me out the next day. Mentioned something about…” Her head cocked, eyes squinting. “A star telling him not to wipe fairy dust against my forehead to make me think it was just a dream.”

Someone in the distance dropped a glass, and a shattering noise was heard; reduced to a meager tinkle. The bartender whipped his towel in anger, and went to see what the fuss was about. 

“He was truly… well I can’t even explain it. You’d have to see it with y’own eyes.”

Y/n tapped her forefinger on the plushy center of her lips three times before saying, “And, what exactly do I have to do to see it with my own eyes?” 

The question simmered in unknown waters while the woman registered what y/n had asked. It was clear; the transition of her eyes going from unfocused and dazed to serious. 

“Why, lass, would you want to find those piece of shites?” Her head bobbled. “After I just-”

“I just wanted to hear you tell the story, that’s all.” Y/n shot to respond, set on getting the stranger to tell her how to get to the fairy realm. Every atom in her buzzed with friction against each other, excited, elated to have what basically a reason to life again. What Wonderland was to Alice, this was to her. 

A rabbit hole.

“Legend goes that if a pure-hearted being leaves offerings for the Fae, the Fae may respond. This is why lil’ tikes always talk about, having dem-- imaginary friends. They’re fairies-- they friend, that is. Fae people show themselves to children because they’re pure. Maidens before their wedding night, if desolate, go missing in the woods because the fairies take them. As for me? They wanted to take advantage of me. It’s process; fickle people they are.” A hand waves in the air, brushing away intrusive thoughts. Y/n leaned further into the woman, lips pursed in interest. “Anyways, my mother, her mother and her mother’s mother, have all had encounters with them after long periods of offerings of home-made foods, and planting flowers in the woods. Slowly, over-time, they gather the courage to show themselves. But, what happened to me was the Summoning of the Full-Moon. And- HEY! ‘Nother one please.” She repeats the same motion from before, sliding back the empty glass. 

“What is the Summoning of the Full-Moon?” Tapping her fingers to attract her attention again, y/n’s eyes follow the woman’s desperately.

“Right, right. Fleet aren’t you?” She chuckled. “The Summoning of the Full-Moon happens when the moon is full, and you drink a glass of moonwater from the past full moon. To get the moon water, just leave out a pitcher of water in clear view of the moon when it’s full, that way, when the next full one comes around, you drink a glass. The moon charges the water with it’s energy, and it’ll give ya’ the ability to see will’o wisps.”  

The bartender slid another glass, and the woman took a swig before continuing. “Will ‘o wisps are spirits that appear as floating blue flames of fire, usually three atta time at first; one disheartening and appearing behind the last as you move closer to them. They guide travelers, y’see? They lead you to what your heart wants the most-- or wherever destiny takes you-- depends on which one is mighty. It all takes off from there.” At her last words, the small glass listed, and slammed back down empty.

Y/n nodded slowly, absorbing the information that was unloaded on her. Moon water. Will o’ wips. But,

“What happens next?”

“It’s up to Destiny and wherever She wants ta take ya, lass.” The woman winked, her long, curled lashes fluttering closed momentarily. “Of course, that is if we’re talking about a hypothetical situation, isn’t it?” 

Y/n was about to give a flustered response, when a man decked out in a black and white suit, with shades, an earpiece and slicked-back dark hair, tapped the woman on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. The woman lifted a hand and dropped her eyes to the floor, directing some but not all attention to the man. An abrupt change in her voice sends shivers down y/n’s spine; the friendly rasp converting into a chilling, demanding scorn. “Tell Alex he’ll lose 30k from his next check if he doesn’t fix this in an hour. I’ll be out as soon as I wrap up the lovely conversation I’m having with this lassie.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The man says, nodding and walking the way he came.

Lifting her eyes from their casted gaze, the woman locks with y/n’s curious, seeking eyes, and sees. She understands now. The questioning. The peaking glint of interest.

It makes sense. 

“Play your cards right, child.” The woman sighed, her voice suddenly ages older than she seemed. “Play them right, and you’ll find eternal happiness… but, make one wrong move and you’ll screw yourself over forever.”

Then she got up and left. Feet landing one after the other with a firm stance, and a swagger in her walk that hadn’t been there before.

Strange, y/n thought. How quick her demeanor went from drunk to composed.  After that fleeting thought came a tsunami of questions. What was she doing in the woods? What woods? What dis the woman take with her?

But it was too late because the was far gone, and she was left to sit and ponder the countless outcomes that could come if she were to go through with this. For one, eternal happiness. It’s natural for anyone to try and seek it. Who wouldn’t? Especially y/n, who’d been deprived of dopamine for... well, forever. Her childhood was about as good as her current life. Parents who yelled at each other, and at her, leaving her only company to be the stray cats that would lick the tears off of her cheeks; raspy tongues eliciting giggles from the small girl. It was a treasure, what she had found.

She would be stupid if she didn’t at least try.

       *                                                *              *

                                                  *                                **

Y/n left her measly apartment on a day where the clouds looked like objects you could pluck from the sky; fluffy, white cotton shapes that overlapped and left small sifts of space where the sun shone through in beams.  All was shadowed with soft colors; rough edges turned tender, perfectly appropriate for the way the giddy girl felt inside. Floaty, heady, and delicate with a skip in her step. Aloof with happiness and a tickle in her rib. She no longer cared about anything. The latter was true. She didn’t even tell her landlord she was leaving, or anyone else for that matter. Everything that belonged to her and truly significant, was inside a wicker basket she tucked in the crease of her elbow. Food, and a blanket because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be waiting for the Fae to respond.

The Fae. 

After extensive research at her local public library, y/n realized how… complex these creatures were. It was no joke was she was getting into, and the Scottish woman has been right. Make one wrong move, and it was over. The ethereal beings had the power to make the rest of her life living hell if she messed up before eating their food.

Eating their food,

was all she had to do

to stay.

Bound by whatever magic they possessed, she wouldn’t be able to leave the Fae realm if-- when-- she bit into something from their world. Like giving your soul to the devil, but instead it was faeries who pranced in delight, not flames. This promise, this reward had restored something in y/n that hadn’t been there in years. Child-like glee, innocence, purity. Call it what you want. But it was there; a fresh sprite in her soul. Restoration of a youthful essence. 

But it was there, and it was back twice as strong as when it previously existed in her. Ignited by the words she drank from her computer screen; early morning rises to the library, and late night walks home after closing time fueled her through two months. The first, she dedicated to attaining a jar of moon-charged water. 

There was a mason jar in her cabinet that she used to eat blueberries and milk in, which was the only portable-type cup she had. The night before a full moon, she filled it with tap water, and set it on her window sill. For the first three hours into the dark, y/n watched the moonlight dance in the water like the aurora borealis. Her eyes would focus and unfocus with possibilities of her future; the possibilities of her eternal future extending from the tips of her toes like the yellow brick road.  Images of dewy meadows and heart-shaped ponds full of lilies flooded her mind. Willow trees and flowers to make flower crowns and tea out of. She wanted it. Wanted to live among the Fae, and wander aimlessly with beauty and prose.

She yearned for it.

Y/n woke the next day with a jar of... water. It didn’t look any different then from when she poured it into the cup, other than the fact that the glass was dewy from the cold of the night. Her fingerprints decorated the sides where she gripped it, and after bringing it up to her eyes for closer inspection, she set it on her pillow, and left for the library.

Her seek of Fae knowledge continued, with more vigor now that she’d acquired the water. Everyday consisted of books, online pages, audiobooks; anything she found she ate up like she was starving for it.

And in some ways, she was.

Swallowing more that could fit in her mouth, y/n came to learn that the Fae weren’t exactly the comforting go-lucky deities she’d come to perceive them as. Beautiful, sure, but not all of them. And certainly not sweet. 

Anything, but sweet. Y/n found that faeries were actually formidable creatures that enjoyed watching trouble develop. Legend has it, that the Fae were those caught in the in-between land at the time God shut the gates of heaven, and Lucifer trapped demons in hell. They could be angels or demons; fallen angels, outcasts, forgotten on the human plane. Belief in angelic behavior is reported, but lesser than the haunting actions, or bewitching incidents. It was a blind treasure hunt, the one she was getting herself into.

However, it she wouldn’t let that stop her. In some ways, she felt entitled to an explanation, a slice of truth; and answer. It would be an act of sadism to derive her of euphoria after she’d lived so, so shitty. She owes it to herself to seek them out.

Even if they could haunt her forever, take her first born, and or make her dance until her feet were reduced to stubs, she needed to look. Anything would be better than her reality.

Her adventure started with the seek of Rowan trees, sacred trees commonly associated with the Seelie court, the lesser malicious group of fairies. If... her expectations are even a fraction real, then she’s set. Good to go. Safe.

Or at least, once she found them she would be safe. The woods before sunset were enchanting, with golden tones littering the leaves and bark with glittering light. Pieces of peach-colored sky peeking through the empty spaces in the tree canopy, shadows dancing on her skin with every giddy step she took. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, only that she was looking for the Rowan trees, and the increasing amount of flowers was a good sign (according to the internet). It had been about an hour since she went off the set trail, the ground growing more unleveled with each step. Squirrels and rabbit would scurry across her way every time a branch cracked underneath her feet, and since her eyes were set on the shrubby part of the trees-- looking for the tell-tale red berries of the trees she was looking for-- the furry animals skittered more often than nought.

Slowly, the sun snuggled deep in the horizon, and the remaining light shifted to created harshly shadowed edges on the trees. This prompted y/n to panic, her searching eyes growing faster in their movements. No, no, no, it couldn’t be dark yet. She hadn’t found the trees yet. It would be dark with....

With no light to light her way.

Light. Small flames of blue light, was what the Scottish woman said the Will ‘o wisps were. And to see them, all she had to do is drink the moon water.

The moon water that was in her wicker basket.

With the last of the sun floating away, y/n hurried to flip open the top of her basket, deft fingers dipping in to wrap around the cool mason jar. She screwed it open, lifting it to her lips and taking two generous mouthfuls of the water. She needed to sip at it cautiously, because the offering acceptance took time, and she’d need more than one night to work this out.

To find her way back to whatever spot the spirits took her, she’d need the water. There would be no waiting at the gates of the realm, given that the faeries were suspicious creatures, and it would take time for them to judge and be comfortable around her; deem her a pure maiden at heart. Hovering in the area where she placed her gift would jeopardize any chance at them accepting, or even considering her entrance into the realm

She would have to be patient. And she would be.

Y/n was full of buzzing energy and she let her eyes adjust to the growing darkness. The sun had gone down completely. The trees reduced to smeared shadows and mysterious shapes. Her skin was victim to a crisper kind of air- the cold having a sharper edge to it in the absence of sun. The moon shone brightly, she could see it through the same spaces where the sun had shown through; a milky-white face in the sky, frozen mid-yawn, and though her light was strong, it wasn’t enough to penetrate through the wood’s thick roof of leaves. 

The path space that formed in the gaps of the trees, was cloaked in a pitch blanket, general figures of branches and trees ghosting in her squinted line of vision. Shivering, she shrugged the quilt she carried onto her shoulders, and it was when huddled into herself when she heard the first whisper. 

We hear you.

It was one voice; one whisper. And hundreds resonating behind it. A small, shy, wispy call out to her, sounding as if it were right at the lobe of her ear. 

Y/n is startled, and she jumps, clutching her fists tighter towards her chest, the basket digging into her hip and chafing on the skin in the crook of her elbow, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it because holy shit it’s happening.

Often reported, the wisps whisper or make high pitched whirring noises to catch the attention of the traveler. This was it. What she was hearing, was the calling. The will o’ wisps.

Her head whipped wildly from side to side, searching for the hovering blue and it’s incandescence. Eyes wide with seeking fervor, lips parted as puffs of air left her lips when her chest came down, y/n felt a rush of adrenaline course through her spine. 

“Who can hear me?”

Suddenly, a flashing burst of electric blue color appeared in the distance, about 10 steps away from her current position. She gasped at the sudden outbreak, her eyes stretching to their maximum diameter. All the inklings of doubt that had seeded themselves in her break uprooted and flew in the wind; gone. Real. It was all real. 

And she was doing it. She was helping herself. Providing to her soul what she couldn’t for years: happiness. The mere appearance of these spheres entities sent a buzz of ecstasy to the center of her core because they were real and she was really doing this. ��

I can

I can

I can

Three chants of ‘I can’ tinkled, one after the other, appearing with every she took towards the spirit. Her knees shook slightly, goosebumps prickling on her knees with every movement. Eerily, branches crack underneath the soles of her shoes, and she can feel the dispersion of energy against her feet when the wood cracks. With the lack of sun, and how she’s so hypnotized by the will o’ wisps, she doesn’t see the thick hump of tree root sticking out from the ground, the tip of her shoe catching on it and causing her to fall fly forward and dig her nose in the dirt. The basket gets crushed between the dirt and her hip, the abrupt and uncontrolled pressure eliciting a pained yelp from her. Her hand comes out stiffly from underneath the blanket, rushing to push herself back up and relieve the intrusion. As she’s hissing, the dreamy, other-worldly whispers say,

Oh no

Are you okay?

Are you still able,

To come and play?

Smaller, quieter, different toned whispers echo each murmuring, creating a dizzying, mind-spinning effect. To a certain extent, it disoriented her. But the tender, cooing voices smoothed over her unease and comforter her. Encouraged her, even.

Huffing, y/n dragged her dungaree covered knees underneath her, and sat kneeled for a moment.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She panted, the experience amazing her. “Who are you?” 

She stood again, feeling her dented basket with her other hand while she waited for a response. 

We are messengers of Destiny

We will take you 

To what your heart wants most

Be quick, Your Majesty

They won’t way forever

Your Majesty? Now why on earth would they call her that? Befounded, she walked with cautious steps towards the first spirit, and tried to caress it with her fingertips. She wanted to feel it, hold it. But alas, as soon as her hand got close, it disappeared as quickly as it came, and reappeared behind the other two that were in line. The trio produced a bio-luminescent radiance that would surely stump any scientist who tried to explain the logic behind it. There simply was no other reasoning to the phenomenon, other than it was magic. 

She knew that. Could feel the altered tensions in the proximity of the will ‘o wisps, calmer and still where they were. Beats of her heart pounded where her tongue lay, dry, in her mouth. She wasn’t royalty. 

“Why are you calling me that? Why… why are you calling me your majesty?” Y/n stared intently to the very core of the wisps, noticing the change of color at the center. White flickers of tiny bodily shapes, like the spirits were dancing idly in their own capsule of light. 

Destiny calls you so

Destiny yearns for you

You’re almost there

Be quick, Your Majesty

She didn’t understand. Your Majesty, was a title reserved for royals wasn’t it? She was not one. In the midst of her confused and amazed state, a lineage of wisps appeared behind the third one, creating a long path that went straight and then made an abrupt turn left. Enchanted, she followed in a zombie-like state. This was real and it was happening. It was real because her nose was bitten-raw from the cold and her nails pinched into the skin of her palm. Pain didn’t exist in dreams, and her hip still ached where the basket has pressed against it.

This wasn’t a dream.

Will ‘o the wisps flickered in their formation, bursting away when she came into proximity. The exhilarating thrill of attempting to catch; chasing, is what caused her to let out a squeaky giggle that eventually grew into harmonious laughter. Light, gleeful chortles bounced between the trees, and if anyone were to hear here from a distance they’d surely think the woods were haunted. 

Eventually, she reached the turn, and was set onto a winding, twisting road of curving blue light. Y/n was light on her feet, raising them high and setting firmly on the ground. She began to run. 

She ran and ran until her throat went dry, her lungs burned, and her thighs ached; body begging for a break, heart high on the drug of hope. Every slight twist in the wood only motivated her further, coaxing her towards her end target of… wherever the wisps were taking her. She was so submerged in the task of following that she was quite surprised when she arrived at a clearing; a circular space where the trees curved around, almost respectfully. The wisps made a beeline towards the middle, where they made the same pattern the trees did, forming a circle around a ring of mushrooms. 

It was almost comical, the way the red-topped, white-dotted mushroom were arranged in a circle big enough to lay, sprawled, in the middle. 

You’ve made it

You’re here

Destiny wishes you luck

Stay strong, Your Majesty

And then, they dissipated; flip of a switch and the lights were off.

For two days, she waited. The first night, she layed her homemade thumbprint cookies and honey in the center of the ring, leaving a sweet kiss on the wooden plate, and walked aimlessly until the balls of her feet ached. It wasn’t that far, because she had already done so much walking, and the girl was drained from the events she’d witnessed. Y/n settled in an alcove of tree roots, wrapping herself snug with her quilt but shivering despite her efforts. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but she waited until the morning, wanting to make the food she brought last as long as possible. 

She woke with the faint images of golden petals floating around her, faeries dusting shimmering substances on the top of her head, and a demanding grumble in her stomach. The dirt underneath her hand was soft, dipping in where her the pad of her fingers dug in to push herself up. Instantly, she was met with the feeling of something wet striping up her cheek, a sniffing like noise filtering through her ears.

Blinking, y/n groggily turns her hear, and comes face to face with... a pig. It snorts when it see her move, sitting back on it’s haunches and looking up at her with bunched cheeks so it looked like it was smiling. Y/n’s jaw dropped in shock. Where had this pig come from?

It’s pink skin was a cool contrast in the light of the late-morning sun (y/n was never much of an early riser), and upon closer inspection, she saw the pig was a he. His nose was twitching with interest at the stranger he’s encountered. Ears floppy, bent and jiggling with every call squeal he exhibited, hooves half dug into the dirt. He watched patiently, inspecting and almost waiting for orders. 

“Where’d you come from?” She asked, intrigued at his presence. They both shared a small moment of staring at each other in wonder until her stomach emitted a stale gurgle, pleading for food. The piglet (which he was, given his small stature and clean snout), squealed again, standing up with a jump and walking around in a circle three times, chasing after it’s curly tail before stilling, with his rump facing y/n. He began to walk backwards, continuing until his back legs came up on her lap, and he plopped himself down, tilting his head up with a pleasant smile, while y/n stared at the small creature, astounded.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” She said with a light giggle, reaching with one hand for her basket, and the other to pet the small thing’s head. She might as well embrace him, so she had company. 

The basket was right by her shoulders while she lay, meaning it was now behind her because she had sat up. Clutching the pig so he wouldn’t fall out of her lap while she moved, she twisted her upper body to grab the basket, and the pig adjusted himself, pressing his two front feet onto her lep repeatedly. Making shushing noises, she flipped open the wicker flap, and reached in to grab whatever she found. 

A sleeve of ritz crackers, that she ripped open eagerly, popping the first cookie into her mouth. Chewing, she looked around for the first time that day.

She was surrounded by much, much bigger trees than the ones she was venturing in the day before. Tall, brooding giants; rows and rows of trunks thicker than her wingspan and arching branches casting shadows on those who walked underneath. Might and wise, but silent and still. And intimidating network of roots on the ground mirrored the intertwining leaves above her, so high up she had to throw her head all the way back to see the expanse.

Breathtaking, is what it was. Y/n hadn’t been this connected with nature since that field trip she took with her third grade class to the blooming tulip meadows. She appreciated their presence, basked in the beams of light that shone through and grazed over the grass and moss on the trees. She even stopped eating, transfixed by the image before her, and she would have continued pondering in the glorious, godly image of greens and brown had the pig in her lap not shifted to sniff at her hand. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing down at his curious tilted head. “Want some crackers, too?” Y/n wriggles her fingers into the brown packaging and took out two cookies, setting one on her tongue and extending the other towards the pig. He sniffs at it, his snout twitching, before cocking his head and picking it up with the side of his mouth. The pig gets close to her, placing the flat underside of his chin in the groove of her neck, snorting appreciatively. 

“You’re a cute one,” she hums more to herself, tracing the pads of her fingers on the piggy’s back. 

They fall asleep like that again, after y/n had finished the sleeve of crackers. The girl so calmed by the image presented in front of her, she slipped into a light slumber, the breeze and waving sheets of leaves lulling her eyes closed. 

She spent the day like that, rationing her food, and sleeping, the pig switching positions from her lap, to her side, and eventually by her feet. The thick quilt she had brought stayed on her shoulders at all times, keeping her warm in the crispy forest air. 

Nearing the sunset again, a butterfly landed on the tip of her nose, stretching its wings and tickling her awake. Her eyes fluttered opened when everything around her was lit a golden haze; the tell-tale sign that the sunset was near, and so was the night. The blue butterfly flew away when she took the first breath, and she watched it fly away with hazy eyes, not fully awake and aware yet. 

Y/n jumped when the piglet let out a squeal, and upon looking down, she saw that he had remained settled into her side while she slept.

With a smile on her lips as she placed her hands on her back to stretch, she said, “Well, hello there!” She patted his head, and he leaned into her touch. “You stayed!”

The pig smiled, which sounds ridiculous but his lips really turned upwards, filling his eyes with a glint, and squealed his response. Y/n’s heart warmed at the sweet animal, happy that she had company and wasn’t alone. Her friends, she realized, had always been furry. Animals were the only beings that were ever welcoming of her, treasured her presence, and reciprocated the love she had to offer.

“Will you stay through the night as well?” The girl remarked, scratching behind the piglet’s ears. “I sure hope so.” A sad look took over her face, the corners of her lips pinching downwards as a sudden wave of forlorn thoughts washed over her.

She was sitting in the forest, all by herself, following after a drunk woman’s rants because that it what her dissatisfaction led her to. That’s how much she lacked. That’s how much she yearned for. It goes to show the large chunk that was missing, because she had no second thoughts about doing so. It hurt, knowing no one would worry about her, and that she had nothing to regret leaving.

As if sensing her unease, the pig started bucking up into her hand, his snout blowing onto her palm and tickling her skin. The action made her laugh, her first genuine, comfortable laugh at an act of humor. A deep, belly chuckle that made her cheeks hurt. 

She had learned to laugh again. 

Y/n got up from her spot on the forest floor, and stretched with her arms reaching towards the canopy, fingers splaying and tightening the skin between them. Taking a deep breath, the corner of her lip quirked up in her smile.

Night two was underway and she was ready.

With her furry companion, the girl picked her basket up and began her walk in the general direction of her arrival. It was hard to tell, because it was pitch black when she made it to her spot, but either way she walked far enough that she would need guidance from the wisps to get back on the correct track.

The sun repeated the same routine it had the day before, splashing an assortment of colors on tree bark and leaves, streaking the sky wild orange taints and soft blues to contrast. It was ethereal image, the one she was witnessing. Like something out of a documentary, except she was there, seeing it with her own eyes. 

Her neck was starting to hurt with how much she craned it to see the mesh of vibrancy in the sky, and the piglet alongside her had often bumped it’s small snout on her ankle when she stopped moving to gaze. When night finally came, the moon was a partly eaten up by shadow, her color less vibrant that the day before. But it was fine, because according to research, what mattered most was the first offering on the full moon.

Repeating the same steps from last night, y/n took another drink from her glass, and blinked three times exactly, waiting for the wisps to formulate in front of her.

And they did.

But there was something different about it this time. They were quiet, a change from their past fizz of whisper. Confused, y/n tilted her head and tried to speak to the.

“Hello?”

Silence. Not even the whistling sound of their breaths. The wind had stopped, and as the line of blue orbs created a twisting route between the trees, the hairs on y/n’s spine stood on end. The air was charged with... a certain potential that was impossible to miss. A certain static of promise.

Tonight was the night.

As she walked towards the wisps, her footsteps were accompanied by the soft pitters of her tiny friend, stuck by her feet still, despite everything happening around them. Could he see them too? Was her cold? He probably was. If y/n was cold, then he was too. Deciding to not only warm herself up, she took out her blanket and bent down to pick him up, cradling him against her chest and wrapping the blanket around him as well, to which he responded with a cuddle into her neck.

With purpose in her step, the hopeful girl began her journey, following the marked up path left by the wisps. It was, as expected, longer than the first. She had ensured that she was far enough away before settling down for the night.

Nevertheless, she made it to the blue luminescent ring of red-topped mushroom (like the ones from Mario), and stared. 

It was apparent, that she had no clue what to do next.

“Now what? Tell me what to do?”

The last wisp, placed in the center of the ring, spoke for all the spirits the first time since they appeared that night.

Destiny had spoken once, She will not speak again.

The knowledge you need to open the realm,

is one you already know.

Furrowing her eyebrows, y/n took a moment to digest the message.

She knew? She knew how to open the gate? The extent of her research only described protocol on fairy manners, what they were like, and what to do in the case of an encounter. Never explicitly the steps to open the realm to meet them. Yet, the wisps said otherwise. They claimed she knew the ways to open the realm.

How could that be true… 

The woman looked up, startled like she’d forgotten there was someone there. “Next? Next…. Next, oh yes!” Crossing her legs, she angled her body sideways to y/n. “Will o’ wisps said to walk the opposite way a clock does around the circle of mushrooms and I did! I did! And, and it got me to the fairy realm. ‘Course I didn’t know until after the king himself told me. But this... this circle of sky opened up-- like,” her head tilts to the side as she thinks of ways to form her thoughts into words. “Like the sky fell and was standing before me. Go through it and find eternal happiness, they told me.”

OH. The Scottish woman! The Scottish woman had told her exactly what to do. Walk counter-clockwise around the circle of mushrooms. 

And that was it. 

All she had to do. 

Y/n was in the middle of contemplating if she should do it or not, given she had only presented one offering, when she saw the note.

In the middle of the ring, lay a fist sized scroll that was only visible because the last wisp hovered above it. The pig next to her glanced from her to the script, and skipped over to clutch the script with his mouth, and trotted over to give it to her. 

The wisps didn’t disappear when the pig approached it, but it raised higher above the ground, above her head and just past that; blue light glowing just a bit brighter.

The girl bent to get the note from the piglet, and gave it a small pat on the head before unrolling the thick paper. It had a very quality feel to it, grooves tickling her finger-pads. The slip, not much better than her hand, read,

the pie was delicious. we are most appreciative of it. proceed.

The black inked scripture widened her eyes, sending a shiver up her spine.

Well, that settled her question. She could, proceed.

And she did. Y/n placed the note in her basket, and picked up her small friend, needing the emotional support. Her lungs expanded in a burning breath, bracing herself for what was to come. No turning back now.

She angled herself so her feet were parallel to the mushroom she was near, and began to walk. Please let me in, please please please let me in. I need this, please. She begged mentally. The girl wasn’t sure what would happen if this went wrong. Her hopes were high, and the crash would be devastating.She begged to whoever would listen; whoever was in charge. Please let me in.

Nothing happened, until she passed her third mushroom.

The remaining will o’ wisp began to expand, it’s light turning a lighter blue color, bubbling out and expanding into a concrete oval, growing in size as she made her way around the ring. The pig in her arms was quiet, not affected by what was going on like he saw it happen everyday, but y/n, on the other hand, was having her mind blown. Her lips were parted as soft breaths came out of them, scared to breathe to her full capacity, watching as the color of light went from blue to yellow. The two colors merging in a gradient shift, the orb growing bigger and larger as water expands when spilled on a flat surface.

Fleeting shadows danced through the portal, like the reflection of birds flying over a lake’s surface. 

Y/n picked up the pace on her last round, and a breeze began to blow out her hair. the light from the now door-sized hole turned a golden color; a glittering, metallic shade of yellow that swirled in a spiral at the speed of her steps, dizzying her. The far-away sounds of a child’s giggled resonated through the forest, coming from the golden circle in the ring.

When she stopped at her starting mark at the end of the third rotation, the portal rose higher, higher, higher, and then floated down like a swaying feather in the air, the golden beams of light now shooting skyward.

It came to lay on the grass covered floor, flattening in the area inside the circle of the mushrooms, the gold-lined edge nearly touching the tip of her show.

The front of her face was covered in the golden light, her eyes gleaming in the colored glow. Laughter sounded from it, the sound of music teasingly escaping, low enough that she could hear it over the lapping water noises from the portal.

The pig, still in her arms, began to thrash and squirm, squealing wildly until y/n finally let him go, and he didn’t hesitate to jump in the pool of gold.

“Wait, wait no, n-,” y/n protested, but his curly tail was gone before her hand even attempted to catch him.

After his leap, the portal rippled, and cleared into a calm mustard yellow splashed with... clouds? It was a piece of sky that fell to the ground, just like to woman had said. Without thinking twice about it, she jumped through, just like her friend had done.

Her body was instantly met with a chilling wind, as if she wasn’t wearing any clothes. It was a disorienting feeling of shooting up, and coming back down like she was falling, landing in the same spot where the portal had been, except now it was closed. Her butt ached where is received most of the impact, and y/n groaned as she pushed herself back up, the budging feeling of her basket restricting her arm movement present, but… the weight of her clothing was gone. 

And, when she glanced down at her body, it was confirmed that she was bare.

As in, no clothes, no underwear, no bra or panties.

Y/n shrieked.

Who, when, and how had her clothes come off if she hadn’t taken them off herself? She ignored the fact that she was in the fairy realm to cover herself with her hands, glancing up to see who may have seen her, only to view a landscape unlike any other.

Rolling hills, seemingly endless with giant trees on top of each one, bigger than the ones she had slept alongside, with flower-filled valleys and and a crystalline river that cut a path through a hill and disappeared into an arch of trees. Children with elvish features stared up at her from the nearest valley, blue flowers littered in their hair to match the pink color tinted in their cherub cheeks. Brown ad white rabbits alike roamed around her, does grazed in the meadows. The sun was nestled in the horizon, just barely peeking in the dip of two hills, sky the same glittering golden color the portal had been. Everything was untouched by technology. No building or antenna towers, but homes in tree trunks or underneath giant mushrooms.

The faeries were staring at her. All with features a human would posses, but a certain other-worldy-ness regular people didn’t posses.

They were all beautiful, with full lips and striking eye colors to match their leafy outfits pertaining to their niche. Two of them ran up the hill on which she sat, edgy grins on their lips as they approached her with their hands behind their backs. One was dressed in the fluffy feathers of a peacock, black hair slicked back and tucked behind his ears, curving up at the nape of his neck. The feathers draped over his shoulders and fanned around his arms, ending just at the end of his wrists so the his hands showed; talons in the place of nails. His lips were beak like, the cupids bow dragging over his bottom lip to imitate a bid’s curved mouth. The other man standing next to his was dressed just the same, except that he had no hair and his ears curved like a ram’s above his head.

Suddenly, her pig friend jumped onto her lap, and began the same squealing as before. Urgent and forbidding, pressing his rump back into her, but leaning forwards as if to ward them off.

“You again, Angus?” The one with the ram horns said, quirking his eyebrow into a perfect arch at the same time his tilted in that direction, giving him a graceful yet mechanical look. Intimidating and cold. His voice was equal to the ear-splitting sound of a fork against plate.

The other one spoke. “How’d you get away from Harry this time, you littl-”

“Pias and Rye? You best stop right there!” Another voice spoke, making y/n twist her heard towards where a crowd had formed in the nearest valley. Mostly creatures with childish features, holding fruits of bunches of petals to their bare chests.

There was a woman, with curly red hair and striking blue eyes. Droplets of water seeped from her skin, collecting at the dress she was wearing, which looked like rippling bodies of water floating above her skin, the placed surrounding her most intimate areas a darker color of water, whereas everything else was translucent. A blob of liquid floated near her head; a crystalline globe of water that contained a golden koi fish that moved on its own around it’s companion, swirling around her unruly red coils of hair.

“Well if it isn’t-”

“I’d shut it, if I were you. Just wait until he hears that you weren’t going to follow protocol. Now, leave.” At her emphasis, her grey eyes flashed bright white momentarily, scaring even y/n, but fulfilling their purposes in warding off the other two fairies. They turned around and left with their prides damaged, turning back to look every other step.

The woman turned to look at y/n, her face transformed into a welcoming smile.

“Hello, my name is Marianne, Welcome to the Fae realm.”

       *                                                *              *

                                                  *                                **

Marianne took y/n to the river, opposite the way the two other faeries left, and clapped her hands to snap everyone's’ gazes away, while y/n listened to every command with no hesitation.

One their way to the river, y/n was covered in monarch butterflies that flew from a nearby bush, arranging themselves like a skirt on her hips, their wings twitching and fluttering with every step she took. Her top half was taken care of by her pig friend, whom she learned was called Angus, which she clutched to her chest like when they walked around the mushrooms.

Marianne apologized for the other faeries’ behavior, and led her into a giant water lily, holding her hand as she stepped in. The large green leaf coasted down the river, giving y/n a proper sight-seeing experience. They passed by tree roots that elevated above the water’s surface, and passed through the center of a hill like a tunnel. The golden skies seemed to place a filter on everything it touched, making it look like the water held diamonds, and the dew on other floating lilies were pearls. Leafy branched from willow trees on the river bank reached out to touch the newcomer, caressing y/n’s bare shoulder’s as she passed. She watched it all happen with parted lips, intoxicated by the luxurious feeling of magic pouring over her; skin coated in remnants of glittering water from the tips of the tree leaves that dipped in water.

So fixed on the trees and their giant glory, y/n didn’t see the stone castle coming into view from behind the passing green hill; the river turning into the castle’s moat, floating alongside the uneven stone walls patterned different colors from time, sun, and water, but magnificent in it’s ancient glory.

The girl noticed Marianne staring at her, and in her embarrassment, she turned around to attempt to compose herself, but her efforts were thrown away when her eyes found the castle. Romantic, rustic walls covered in curtains of ivy that grew all around. Blinking, y/n gasped as the lily pad came to a stop right before the entrance of the tunnel underneath the bridge, and rose to meet it. She glanced down to see they were off the river’s surface, level with the top of the stone arch. Marianne stepped off, her bare feet stable on the path and she extended a hand for y/n to grab onto.

Stunned, she took hold of the woman’s wet grip, and followed after her, throwing her head back to view the entirety of the castle. Windows with no glass carved rows into the walls, allowing sun to stream in to the rooms and halls. The drawbridge lowered for the two guests, dropping with a loud rustling of chain.

Walking across is at, goosebumps possessed her skin, and she felt the shameful, poking sensation of being exposed settle in her breastbone. Castles meant kings and queens; she was being brought to the king and she was practically naked.

Her chest rose, and her stomach filled filled nervous breaths. Her pals became moist against Angus’s furry one, who seemed calm and sated with the whole ordeal. 

Once across the drawbridge, they were met with an open courtyard framed by the castle walls, a cobblestone path leading to an arched entrance, where Marianne followed The courtyard was full of wild grass up to her ankles, stone arches in the middle of the scene, with rope swings and flowers hanging down, ominously still. A bench centered in an arrangement of statues of men in heroic poses holding harps and arrows, a floating body of water in the place of a fountain. Much, much more attracted the girls curious eyes, but Marianne pushed past a curtain of foxgloves, and led her into the castle hall and her view was cut off, dragged into... the throne room.

The throne room clearly because in the center of the sun-lit room, there was a throne covered with wild flowers where the king sat, legs spread and back against the seat as he listened a subject speak.

He wore a red ensemble, by-far the most magnificent of anyone in the room. Transparent garments the color of cranberries draped on the broad expanse of his olive-skinned shoulders, waves of the material hanging loosely on his hard biceps, a tassel tied around his waist to taper an accentuate the strong muscles seen through the garment. The cloth bunched at his groin, and fell in folds around his muscular thighs and down his calves, stopping at his ankles and exposing his bare feet.

His fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm of his throne, each finger falling after the other, adding to the powerful aura of his character. Plump lips colored that matched the tone of the nipples that poked through the thin fabric on his chest, mouth arranged into a hard, concentrated line as he listened. Eyebrows dipped just slightly, drawing attention to the vibrant emerald eyes that gleamed in the sun that illuminated his castle. Structured jaw that twitched with the movement of his lips, leading down to the delicate skin of his neck, equally delectable as the rest of him.

Y/n knew he was the king by the tell tale crown that rested on his head. A golden wrap of laurel leaves that nestled on the caramel curls that were pushed back and away from his face.

She wasn’t aware that she was holding her breath, until he glanced up and locked eyes with her. His eyes brought instant relief to her, her body uncoiling, lungs releasing the air their were holding. His lips pulled up into a pleasant smile that made her heart leap and causing one to appear on her face, too. Oddly, she felt safe the instant her eyes landed his, the green sating all of her doubts.

“Marianne? And Angus? Angus is that you?”

Angus jumped from y/n’s arms, landing on the stone floor with a snort and running over to meet the king, jumping into his arms and nuzzling his snout into the king’s face.

The absence of the pig in her arms, left her breasts bare for all to see, and given y/n was transfixed by the king’s voice, smooth like honey with a beautiful scratch that was pleasing to listen to, she didn’t rush to cover herself.

Meaning the king, and the subject he was speaking to, had the time to look at the curves of her chest.

An unreadable look took over the king’s face, and he frowned down at the floor before saying, “You may leave now, Rives.”

The subject cleared his throat, and rushed out at his king’s command. He snapped his fingers, and two of the butterflies on her legs flew up and covered her nipples with their wingspan.

“Your Majesty,” Marianne bowed, and y/n looked over at her before doing the same thing, awkwardly curtsying and the king’s lips quirked at her attempt. “I found her with Pias and Rye. They planned to trick her, Your Highness.”

“Very well, Marianne. You may leave now.” He said. The woman bowed and left without turning back, leaving y/n alone with the king.

A moment passed, ensuring the water fairy had left before he began to speak again, leaning forward on his throne and smiling fully at the human. Y/n instantly took note of the dimple on his cheek, and she blushed at the simple fact that he was looking at her while she was so exposed.

“Oh! My apologies, surely you’d like some clothes wouldn’t you?” He asked rhetorically.

Y/n nodded sheepishly, and crossed her arms over her torso.

“Right, well let’s see.” He stood, letting Angus on the floor with a small pat to his head, and walked off into another archway on the left side of his throne, mumbling “come, come” to get y/n to follow him. She walked behind him, shamelessly grazing her eyes over his back, adoring the way his muscles dimpled his shoulder blades, and hating the way she can’t see the cleft of his buttocks of the strategic bunching of the fabric, the color darkening and making it hard to see through it.

The archway led to a short hall of portraits and moss-covered head statues, before opening to a steep staircase, which the king stepped on, going all the way up and choosing the right branching of stairs from the landing. By the time they reached the top, y/n was huffing and her thighs ached from the walks in the forest.

The stairs opened to a hallway of rooms, and the king entered the third on the right, revealing a sun-lit room. The corner closest to the window was covered in tree tranches, twigs extending and branching along the pink colored wall, small leaves and flowers twisting up to the roof, splaying over the bed to create a net of petals around the fame of it.

He led her to the center of the room, and sat one of the chests. She stood nervously, unsure of where to take her place because she didn’t want to offend him. It was easy to do that with faeries.

“Stand right there,” he pointed to an elevated tree stump opposite of him.

Y/n felt the butterflies flutter wildly at the drastic movement of her knee hiking up, and her ears burned red when she felt cool air blow on her intimate area.

“Now turn to face me.” She turned, and came face to face with the king, who sat with his ankles crossed, and hands clamped between his thighs, back straight.

He removed a hand, and snapped once.

Instantly, the butterflies flew off of her body, and out the window.

Y/n yelped, and rushed to cover herself, forearm over her breasts, palm at her mound.

“M’lady I need you straight so I can adorn you with clothing. I’d have someone else do it, but it’s just me here.” The king said, voice a whisper. His eyes drooped, eyebrows slanting and softening his whole demeanor.

Y/n would have responded, said something to protect her modesty, but she was just too out of it. Her brain running on autopilot by the events that had occurred, that she went pliant under his orders and obeyed. She wasn’t even ashamed anymore. 

The king’s fingers moved along her figure from a distance, twiddling across her body, and as he did so, a milky glitter grew upwards from the tree stump, wrapping around her calves and up her thighs, tightening just lightly at her hips, and resting snugly up her torso. Setting on her shoulders, she blinked slowly at the finished product, her tongue too tied to attempt a dreamy woah.

He had dressed her in a silk toga, the material so light it felt like she was wearing nothing.

“There we go!” He cheers, another small smile gracing his lips, melting y/n.

“I am most appreciative, Your majesty.” She bowed her head respectfully, her hands coming to fold at her navel.

“It is alright to say thank you. M’trying my absolute best to dilute a lot of the negative stigma around my people, but with fools like Pias and Rye it’s nearly impossible.” He stops, shaking his head to himself before looking back up and saying, “And you can call me, Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry, my name is y/-” before she could finish her sentence, the Fairy King interrupted her with a green flare of his eyes, heat radiating off his translucent cranberry ensemble, licking her skin with warnings of heat. 

“I don’t want to know your name.” He said, his voice changing from jovial to demonic.  His eyes pinch closed, and his shoulders tense, momentarily reeling himself back in, and the licks of heat turn a soothing cool. “Please, not yet.”

Harry sounds nearly broken, pained by the restriction.

“I-”  y/n started. She collected herself, taking a deep breath before saying, “I understand.”

His eyes opened again, and uncertain fire blazing in the green of his irises. “Do you? Do you really?” Harry’s tone is mocking, angry. He’s mad, but not at her and she knows that. Deep down inside her, she knows this is him baring himself, this is him slipping her a piece of information, and she’s grateful they get to start off an a truth slate, but not at the way he’s presented himself.

He’s got no right to talk to her that way, she feels.

“Yes! I do understand! It’s the reason why I’m here!” She fires back at him, her nostrils flaring, and eyes wide. By the time she’d finished with her aggravated statement, her chest is heaving.

Both go quiet, the revelation heavy between them. Harry realizes that one, he’s been extremely rude, and two, he and this girl may be more alike that he thinks.

“Why are you here?” He asks, his face doing the thing again, there his eyes droop downwards like a puppy’s when it’s begging. Soft. tender.

Y/n takes a deep breath, and begins. “I need to escape. If.. if I stayed even a moment longer I wholeheartedly believe I would have died. Everyday was a mindless drone, and it was eating at me. I came to ask for permanent residence in your realm.”

When Harry doesn’t respond, y/n crosses her arms over her chest, and picks at the skin of her elbow nervously. Her throat closes up and eyes well up with tears. But, she’s not sad. She’s overwhelmed with emotion because for the first time, she’s admitted it out loud; formulated into a coherent thought instead of a general feeling.

The king, touched by her vulnerability, gets close enough to her that so he can uncross her arms to stop the girl from harming herself. This stranger, so unexpectedly placed into his world, understood him. She knew what it was like to go unnoticed; to not get what she wanted out of life. But to risk forever? Is that really what she wanted? 

“I do not know if this much of a wise decision. The rules of my realm are diff-”

Y/n grips at his arms, her eyes pleading and her tone desperate. “Please,” tears slip from her eyes, and neck veins protrude in stress, “You don’t understand. The past day has given me more than I’ve ever received from my life. Do you know much happiness Angus has given me? Or standing on a lily pad while trees touch my shoulders? Let me stay.”

She’s shaking him, grip so tight her nails make crescent marks in his skin.

“Do not cry, my lady,” he begs, voice just barely audible. “You must understand the severity of your words. This lifestyle is not a situation in which you can change your mind when your heart so pleases. The fairy life is forever.”

“I don’t care. I will die, if I go back.”

“Your species will perish either way. Humans are destined to die.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone. At this, y/n drops in a heap of desolation, and places her face in her hands, shoulders shaking her sobs.

Her begging, her uprooting, was all for nothing. Her hopes were crashing, she wouldn’t survive this fall.

The strings of Harry’s heart pull ferociously at him, his instinct telling him he has to help her. He has to. Even if it goes against everything faeries stand for. He was king, he could do whatever he wished

He bent down, his feet bending at the toes in a crouch, and he placed a hand on the girls wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could see her when he uttered the words, “But, I will give you three days.”

At that moment, y/n thinks he looks magnificent. A curl has slipped from the crown’s grip, falling to rest over his left eye, and his eyes sparkle with golden specks of the sun that slip past y/n’s shoulders and his face. Shadows ghost over the left side of his face, accentuating the right side, and y/n sees for the first time, the small moles on his chin, and the bags underneath his eyes. Bags that come from nights of no sleep. 

She knows because she had them too.

“Three days?” It comes out wet, her voice thick with the saliva that had collected in her mouth, and the mucus at the back of her nose.

“A period of time for you to be sure of this choice. A human can go three days without food or water, and I wish for you to have the most time possible. You cannot eat or drink, because by fairy law you are bound to stay the moment it passes your throat. I will not allow a forced decision. This is a choice you must make on your own.” When y/n’s eyes began to fall, the king placed a warm hand on her cheek, drawing her eyes back to him. He needed to know she was sure, and her eyes would let him know everything.

She was sure. She was very sure, and he could see that. More than that, she was even irritated he’d make her wait that long.

“Three days?” She asked

“Three days.”

#harry styles gifs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #finelineficchallenge #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff oneshot #harry edward styles #harry styles soft #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles au

[headinthe-fridge]

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt.7)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader –  ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

AN: Sorry for the late update. T_T Work made me not do it earlier. Once again, thank you all for your support! And also for you lovely comments and messages! :))))

You felt helpless at the savage possession of your lips. 

You stretched your arms, hands on Ushijima’s chest, trying to push him away. You squirmed before him, trying to escape his grasp, but he held you tighter.

His hot lips continued to assault yours; nibbling and sucking. The faint minty scent of hsi mouthwash filled your nose while his large, warm body enveloped your entire frame.

And he was right. You were getting afraid. You could feel your body betraying you.

You have always found him attractive ever since you first laid your eyes on him. But his cold and aloof attitude was total turn off you. Still, his presence was palpable whenever he was around, you could never not notice him. If he weren’t so unsympathetic and haughty, you would have flirted with him.

And now here he was, showing and making you feel what you’ve once dared to think about these past weeks. And damn, was he good at it. Plus the fact that you haven’t been kissed -or ever been on a date- in so long didn’t help in maintaining your resolve.

Your hands stopped pushing him, opting to just rest on his broad chest. You wanted to get mad at yourself.

His skillful tongue push through your slightly parted lips and you more than yielded. The last strand of your resolve breaking. You leaned towards him, while your hand travelled upwards, cupping his nape and pushing him towards you. Your tongues played, swirled, and tangled. At the same time, heat pooled down your middle.

It’s been so long, shit.

Ushijima’s hands explored your body, sliding down your sides, cupping your butt, until it slowly crept inside your shirt. His warm palm caressed your skin as it moved upwards.

His warm fingers pinched your hardened nipples, the pain and pleasure pulling you back to your senses.

You stilled and broke the kiss before looking away to hide your embarrassment.

“Stop.. I don’t want this.”

“What hypocrisy is this?” Ushijima spat as he withdrew his hand. “I don’t believe that after how you responded to my kiss, you could say it was detestable. Is this what you do with -what’s his name? Tooru? Do you enjoy his kisses and touches then say you don’t like it?” He chuckled darkly. “You’re a tease, you know?”

You felt a vein pop in your head at his insult. Your hand flew and it landed on Ushijima’s cheek -once again. (You did say you were gonna do it again, he should’ve seen that one coming, to be honest.) Your eyes were furious as you glared at him.

“Fuck what you’re saying! And leave Tooru out of this because he’s a lot better than you are!” With that, you pushed past him with all your might.

Wakatoshi could do nothing but stare at your retreating figure, his ears still rang and his cheeks stinging from the second wave of slap you threw him. He wanted to go after you and pull you back but his feet remained rooted to the spot. It irked him beyond hell that you compared him to another man.

Your fiery eyes and intrepid words made him smitten with you on the day he finally met you. He seldom met women who are as impassioned and strong-willed as you are.

Yet, even as weeks pass during your stay here, you remained animus towards him and he, for the life of him, couldn’t understand why. Had he done something for you to be so hostile and defensive towards him all the time?

Flirting was really something that he had no time practising because he didn’t need to -the other person always did that to him and if he likes them back, he’ll entertain. But that was about it. Just entertainment.

But with you, a great fire was incited within him. You are beautiful and graceful and, something he learned from your grandfather, you’re caring and thoughtful as well.

However, it frustrated him to no end at how he could not make a move on you. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to but rather he didn’t know how to. Plus the fact that you kept shooting him virtual daggers didn’t help his situation at all. So when he heard you getting all giddy and sweet towards someone over the phone -and with another man, no less -his temper got the better of him.

As a lawyer, it was his job and duty to carefully choose the words that he will use, he has perfected that, in writing and in speech but, when it comes to you, everything goes down the drain.

He calmed himself before finally turning to leave; brushing away the treacherous thoughts of your lips on him.

-----

“How are you faring, my little cousin?” Kuroo spoke behind you.

You turned on your seat to face him, hands massaging your massaging your calves. “These heels are killing me.” You groaned, a scowling forming when he chuckled at your unfortunate situation.

“Wait here, I’ll go get you a plaster or something.”

“You’re finally doing something right for once.” You muttered a soft thank you nonetheless and Kuroo disappeared.

You are currently at a party -your party to be exact. Your grandfather decided to be a little extra so he organized a homecoming-slash-welcoming party for you (not that he did the organizing by himself but it’s correct to say he’s the culprit).

You were whisked away to Sendai city this morning where you were glammed and dolled up for this special event. It was an intimate celebration, relatives, close associates, and friends were invited for a nice and classy dinner at an outside garden.

Names swam in and out of your head as the Washijo patriarch pranced around the venue with you in tow, introducing you to everyone. Hence, why your feet are on fire and your calves feeling as if it will burst any second.

You managed to get away from all the hustle and bustle and found a secluded spot. Despite your aching legs and feets, your heart was far from it. It felt like it would burst any minute now from all the emotions that welled up within you. You may have doubted it in the past but it’s crystal clear to you know -your grandfather loves you very much.

You sniffed quietly to yourself, tears welling up in your eyes. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, you didn’t wanna ruin your look for tonight. The summer night breeze swept through your hair and you felt a wave of tranquility wash over you.

However, it didn’t last long when a familiar voice spoke beside you that nearly made you fall off your seat.

Part 8

Taglist:@thegrumpyhag​ @sushij1ma​ @valoryess​ @yakus-yakult​ @ly-nia​ @ushi-please​ @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb​ @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy​ @defunkitatedmess​ @lunarknox​ @wtoshii​ @kyomihann​ @multishippers-trash-blog​ 

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[songfell-ut]

Chapter 15 took forever ergh

Man, this was a thing. In this thing, Sans cannot do poker face, and Undyne is half bro and half troll. Chapter can be found here.

           Frisk wiped the sweat from her forehead and clutched the envelope tighter as she crept over the last "bridge." The monsters in Hotland were supposed to have disarmed all the traps and puzzles for the humans’ visit, but they had replaced them with a bunch of regular wooden planks, not bothering with supports or railings to keep people from falling into the lava.

           There! She was across. Puffing a little in the heat, Frisk trotted up the ramp and saw the doctor’s laboratory – helpfully labeled “LAB” – right where they’d said it would be.

           But no one had said there would be a crowd blocking it. “…your very eyes!” someone was shouting from a stage in the main area.

It wasn’t very impressive, just a rickety platform with one corner curtained off and a few musicians standing around. The only thing on it was a giant metal rectangle that rocked back and forth on a single wheel, with no human features except for strange, floppy arms ending in white gloves. Yellow and red lights twinkled in elaborate patterns on its front as it raised an arm and twirled in place. “No, you say? It’s not enough?” asked a tinny voice.

           Frisk had no idea what it was supposed to be – some kind of loud statue? – and neither did the rest of the audience. The rectangle spun itself impatiently. “Well, then, behold!”

           Just like that, the thing froze in place, and there was nervous laughter as it began to look like it was broken—until something darted out from behind the curtain and whacked it in the back. There came a POP and a grinding sound, and the rectangle exploded in a plume of smoke!

           But before the audience could work up to a proper state of panic, they heard a silvery laugh. Out of the smoke stepped a dazzling figure; it was shaped like a human, but as the air cleared, the stagelights shone on a monster made entirely of bronze and steel, its features delineated in ivory. Sleek black lacquer served as hair, and it winked an opalescent eye at the gawking crowd. When they didn't get the hint, it raised its hands and tapped them together, then bowed graciously as the applause started in earnest.

           This must be the automaton she’d been sent to find! Somehow, Frisk doubted she was supposed to get up on stage to give him the note; if she was, the answer was—

           “Yes!” At that cue, the musicians broke into a swift-paced dance tune. Mettaton bowed again, then launched himself into a series of amazing leaps and twirls, hopping around the little stage like an agile, attention-fueled clockwork toy. The audience cheered and clapped along, which seemed to put an extra spring in his step, as Sans would say.

           Frisk had crept closer and spotted a set of steps beside the stage. She started up them on all fours, hoping to catch Mettaton after this song. A Royal Guard moved to stop her; Frisk showed her the fancy seal on the note she was carrying under her armpit, and the cat-woman directed her to go up and wait behind the curtain.

           The human did so, and immediately bumped into someone. “E-excuse me,” another monster said apologetically. Frisk turned to see a stocky lizard monster with bright yellow scales, wearing glasses and a doctor’s coat; she offered a sheepish smile as the human child backed up. “I’m just here to m-make sure M-M-Mettaton doesn’t s-squeak too much,” the doctor said, holding up an oil can. "I hope he s-stops after this number so I can—"

           The audience was applauding again, and the lizard gulped as Mettaton launched right into another routine, the musicians scrambling to keep up. Frisk couldn't help poking her head out from the curtain; she had never seen anything like the automaton, especially not this close.

           "I'm so g-g-glad that I finished him on time," the yellow monster said quietly, as if to herself.

           "You made him?" the child whispered back in astonishment.

           The monster looked a little frightened, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. "Um...just his b-b-body." She shuffled her feet. "It w-was nothing."

           Frisk watched the automaton do a series of backflips ending in perfect splits. "That looks like a lot. It's incredible," she said honestly.

           "Really?" The lizard squinted at her to see if she meant it. "W-Well, if you think so..."

           Out of nowhere, Frisk felt a cold sensation sliding down her back. The same way one has to sniff at something that looks rotten, the child had to peek out at the audience: sure enough, there was Chara at the back of the crowd, frowning up at the stage.

           As Frisk stared, the woman's gaze shifted until her eyes met Frisk's. Chara smiled thinly, and the child's gut knotted. How did—

           Another grinding sound pulled Frisk's attention back to the stage. Mettaton’s ankles were starting to smoke as he moved faster and faster; to Frisk's horror, one of the joints locked up, and the automaton's heeled boot skidded across the stage, lurching him off balance. The little human had a panicky mental image of the poor monster lying in a heap, people trying not to laugh too loud, Chara rushing up to help because everyone was watching...

           Maybe that was what gave Frisk the courage to drop the envelope and dash onto the stage as Mettaton came careening toward her. She grabbed the nearest pearly-gloved hand and swung him around with all her might, nearly wrenching her shoulder out of its socket.

           But it was enough: the automaton slammed his knee and his other hand into the stage and used the momentum to twirl back onto his feet...all in time with the music. The child didn’t have time to catch her breath; Mettaton winked at her with a little clicking sound and then caught her up to dance in place with him, setting her down long enough to let her pose dramatically.

           The first time she did it was just freezing up as she faced the audience, but they cheered so loudly that she tried it again the next time she came down, and the next. To her amazement, she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. This was fun!

           All too soon, the song ended with a crashing flourish, and she panted happily as Mettaton held her arm up, prompting the now-huge crowd to applaud both of them. The automaton turned to address everyone, but Frisk was glad to stagger back to the side of the stage, where the lizard monster was waiting behind the curtain. “Th-thank you so much,” she said. Despite her scales, she appeared to be sweating, beady eyes fixed on Mettaton. "He's g-going to be s-so upset with me..."

           Frisk hated how miserable the doctor looked, as if she expected the automaton to blame her for the mishap because it was her fault. The human tried to think of something to say, and spotted the note in the monster's hand. “Oh, you found it! Thank you!” Frisk cried, as if her life had been saved, and was rewarded with a shy smile as the lizard handed her the envelope. “Here, sir. This is for you,” said Frisk, turning to Mettaton as he came over.

           Sure enough, he was scowling. "I was just telling the doctor how amazing you were," the child said as gushily as possible. "But, um, you're so amazing that we're worried about you pushing yourself too hard. Please take more care so you can keep performing for us," Frisk finished.

           The automaton blinked, his attention diverted. “Why, thank you, darling,” he said, ruffling her hair fairly gently, “and thank you for your assistance! That was marvelous! Any time you’d like to come back for another performance, my little beauty, you are absolutely welcome.” He gave Alphys a brief glare, then allowed her to creep forward and begin re-oiling his joints as he tore the note open, eyes flicking over the words with inhuman speed. “Ah, duty calls.” The metal monster  smiled at Frisk again, working his ankles to spread the oil evenly. “I’m heading to meet His Majesty now. Would you like to come back with me, darling?”

           “Thank you, sir, but I promised the Queen I’d stay and meet more people in Hotland,” Frisk lied. She turned to the other monster and gave a half-bow. “My name is, um, Kris. What’s yours?”

           “Uh…m-my n-name?” The lizard pushed up her glasses. “I-I’m Dr. Alphys, the r-royal s-s-scientist. It’s n-nice to m-meet you, Kris.”

           “I’ll see you later, then, Kris!” Without further ado, Mettaton stepped out of the curtain and leapt off the stage, sailing clear over the astonished humans’ heads and pirouetting once more before he pranced out of sight.

           “Um…” Alphys was fidgeting with her claws. “So, d-do you like…stories? Novels or p-p-plays?”

           “I don’t know,” said Frisk, rubbing her sore shoulder. “I’ve never read any.”

           Alphys’ eyes got wide, and wider. “C-c-c’mon!” she nearly shrieked. “Do I have s-some things to sh-show you!” And she was off, racing down the steps and tearing the doors to her laboratory open as though her tail had caught fire.

           Frisk started to follow, but another bad feeling crept up on her, and she had to turn to look at the audience, praying she wouldn’t see—

           Chara was still there, still staring at Frisk. But this time, she wasn't smiling. She looked...thoughtful.

           Why did that seem so much worse?

 ~

             Sans lay on the floor in his room, flat on his back, his head spinning. For a long moment, he had no idea what'd just happened. He'd woken up and had to get away in a hurry—from Undyne? Because he'd been chewing on Frisk? That was a dream...right?

           But if it was a dream, what was he smelling? The boss monster glanced this way and that. All he saw was his pile of long-outgrown socks, his too-small treadmill shoved against the wall, and the wadded-up sheets on the kiddy-sized bed. Sans grunted and turned onto his side, curling up with one arm under his head.

           Then he blinked, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and jammed it into his nasal bone, inhaling so deeply that he almost sucked the material up into his skull. Ha! Frisk's scent was all over him! It wasn't a dream after all. Heh, as if he could've imagined her saying those things, making those little noises and tasting like—

           Sans tried to leap to his feet, but he made it about a third of the way before he staggered and fell back with a butt-rattling thump. No good; he'd done too much yesterday and gotten too little sleep. That last shortcut had completely drained him.

           It was just as well, when Sans gave it any thought whatsoever. He'd gotten out of Frisk's room fast enough that she had a decent chance of convincing Undyne he hadn't been there. It'd be about eight flavors of stupid to go back to her now, no matter how badly he wanted to.

           And boy howdy, did he ever want to. The giant skeleton stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to rub his face in his shirt like a damn cat. His tongue came up and ran slowly across the back of his teeth, remembering the taste of apples—she must've had some before she went to bed. He'd never be able to eat one again without getting twitchy.

           In fact, he had a feeling that life was going to be trickier in general from now on. Being around her had been distracting enough before he knew exactly how soft she was, what it smelled like snuggled into her neck...

           Shit. No wonder humans were such obsessive morons about this whole thing. Magic was already tingling throughout his bones, especially his pelvis, a helpful reminder that it was there in case he wanted to have his way with anyone; Sans had to bring his fist up and clonk himself square in the forehead to snap out of it.

           ...And it didn't even work. The harder he tried not to think of Frisk, the more irritated he got, and he also had a headache.

           It was a profound relief to feel the house shake as the front door was thrown open. Undyne shouted something, and Pap's door also banged open; Sans had to smile as his brother loudly rejoiced at seeing Frisk. Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and a moment later, Frisk shrieked with laughter—probably because Pap had picked her up and swung her around, just as he had swung Kris around all those years ago.

           Sans sighed. The stairs were too small for him, and he wasn't sure he could manage a shortcut to the living room. Maybe it was just as well: he was tired and cranky, and he hadn't calmed down enough to trust himself yet; better give her some time to get reacquainted with Pap first, before they started handing out everyone's gifts.

           Oh, crap. She'd asked him to do something last night with the wagons, but he'd been too distracted by the other stuff she'd said, and too intent on proving that he could do stuff, too. He had spent the past couple days thinking it over while he was pulling the stupid wagon, theorizing that he could cram some of his accumulated magic back down and revert to a lesser height for short periods; listening to Frisk whistle, he'd wondered if he could do that, too, and then gone off a long mental tangent about lips.

           Maybe those self-adjustments had worked so readily because he'd had so much practice manipulating his other body parts, or maybe he'd just wanted it to happen badly enough. Maintaining his crammed-down form was something he'd have to work on, and he didn't know if he'd be able to do it at all outside the Underground and its ambient magic, but...

           He closed his eyes, letting his body relax, ignoring Undyne's stupid loud voice through the floor. He was home, his brother was happy, they had Frisk here...

           Some time later – a few minutes, or an hour – he jumped as the door banged shut downstairs. The boss monster wondered irritably if someone else had come in, or if they'd left, or what. Then, picking up at a random point where his mind had left off, he wondered whether his body felt as awful to Frisk as hers felt good to him. Was it like making out with a coat rack?

           The only thing that saved him from another five or six hours of tortured introspection was the smell of pancakes. Sans shook himself, sat up, thought of the living room, and took himself downstairs, where he was met with...no one. To his disappointment, the house was now empty, save for a single plate and a note on the table:

             SANS! YOUR GREAT BROTHER (ME) HAS KINDLY AGREED TO ALLOW YOU TO SLEEP IN LIKE THE SLOTHFUL SACK OF BONES YOU ARE WHILE WE ESCORT OUR DEAR

             Another set of handwriting, much less elegant and more emphatic, had scribbled out KRIS so hard that the paper was almost torn through, replacing it neatly with Frisk.

             FINE THEN OUR DEAR FRISK TO GRILLBY'S AS A CONVENIENT PLACE FROM WHICH TO FURTHER DISTRIBUTE PANCAKES. PLEASE PARTAKE OF THE DELICIOUS BREAKFAST PREPARED WITH LOVE BY YOUR BROTHER, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND CONSIDER JOINING U

             There was a trailed-off line where the S should have began, and a smear of ink as testament to a struggle for the pen before the other handwriting victoriously resumed,

             We're at Grillby's!!! (Much smaller:) see was that so hard

           NO ONE SAID IT WAS HARD, NYEH!! I WAS MERELY TRYING TO CONVE (smear)

           Why are you actually writing NYEH you damn goober

           WHY ARE YOU NOT

           oh my god (Much bigger:) SANS EAT YOUR PANCAKES

             Sigh. Sans obediently picked up a fork, then realized no one was around, folded the stack in half, and shoved it down his throat. He remembered another time with a fork and breakfast being crammed in his face; little did he know then...

           With his mouth still full, Sans abruptly stood up and gathered himself for to a shortcut to Grillby's—only for his magic to sputter and fizzle out. Dammit! Had he only gotten enough back to teleport into the living room?

           Well, Grillby's might not be very far, but after the past couple days, he was completely sick of walking. He could just wait a few more minutes for his magic to regenerate. It wasn't like he'd die if he didn't see her right this second. Right?

           He glanced at the fork again.

A moment later, he was closing the front door behind him, shuffling through the snow with his hands in his pockets.

           To his surprise, one of the wagons was parked outside the house, most of its contents sitting on the ground. Aaron and Ice Wolf were busy moving packages into the shed; the only things left in the wagon were the crates of vials, seedlings, and other items for Alphys. Sans caught Aaron's eye, and the merhorse flexed nervously at him before returning to work.

           Hm. Toriel must've told them to bring the wagons to Frisk in Snowdin, and then Undyne had gotten Pap to unlock the shed and made these guys unload all the gifts. Nice! That was one less thing to worry about.

           Ice Wolf was setting down one of the last packages and climbing back into the wagon. Sans watched in sudden apprehension as the wolf pulled out a crate and trotted down toward the river, raising it over his head to—

           It really wasn't Ice Wolf's fault. Apparently, he'd heard Frisk tell Undyne that the crates were all accounted for, and now they needed to go to Hotland; it was already his job to send things there by throwing them into the water, so he figured he might as well help with these, too. One flying tackle and a heated discussion later about the difference between chunks of ice and irreplaceable scientific materials, the wolf monster was directed to the Royal Guards' ferry, which could transport the crates without anything getting waterlogged or melted.

           Okay. That was one wagon safely disposed of. Time to follow the other one's tracks in the snow past the deserted librarby – heh, he'd never get tired of that – to Grillby's.

           Sure enough, the other wagon stood empty right outside the bar, which was absolutely packed. Sans could smell why: for the first time in months, Grillby was serving hot food. If Sans knew Frisk, no one would have to pay for it, either.

           Free pancakes or not, things were quite orderly. The monsters were waiting in a line stretching out the door and along the side of the building; the Royal Guard Captain could be heard directing traffic inside, and those without were politely ignoring Papyrus as he strode back and forth, instructing them to keep waiting. "SANS! THERE YOU ARE!" he said, cheerful as always. "IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU, NYEHH! I WASN'T SURE IF THE HUMAN IN MY HEAD WAS ENTIRELY TRUSTWORTHY, BUT IT SEEMS SHE WAS CORRECT AFTER ALL! I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU ARE BACK SAFELY!"

           "Yeah, I'm here," answered Sans, giving his brother a friendly nudge in passing. "An' speakin' of the human—"

           "AH-AH, BROTHER!" Papyrus flung his hands out to block the doorway. "YOU MUST WAIT WITH EVERYONE ELSE."

           Sans stared down at him. "What the crap, bro? I already ate. I just wanna get in ta—"

           "IT IS A DIRECT ORDER FROM UNDYNE! NO EXCEPTIONS!"

           "Well, you're bein' exceptionally dumb!" He tried to stoop to see in the door, but to no avail: there was no room between the monsters in line and those leaving. "Come on, Pap! All I want is—"

           A red-gloved finger stabbed up at him. "BACK IN LINE, SANS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!"

           And just like that, for one second, Sans was so irritated that he wanted to pick his brother up by the spine and toss him aside. It took far too long to remind himself that he loved Papyrus more than life itself, his brother was just being himself, and Sans shouldn't pick him up by the friggin' spine! What was wrong with him today?

           Sans shook himself, pulled a face, and started ambling toward the end of the line. The moment Pap's attention was elsewhere, though, the boss monster turned on his heel, speed-sneaked up to the doorway, tapped on a couple of shoulders, and said, "'Scuse me."

           Somehow, no one else seemed concerned that he was cutting in line. A duck, a wriggle and a side-shuffle later, Sans was in the bar, ignoring his brother's orders to come back that instant!

           There were so many monsters inside that they'd had to shove the rectangular tables against the wall. Undyne was seated at the high table near the back door, keeping her eye on the line as it moved toward the bar; Grillby had set up a griddle and was silently dispensing one pancake and one blob of hash browns to each monster—not much, but it was still human food, equivalent to a couple of good-sized meals. The stools at the end of the bar were laden with plates, forks, and napkins, but almost everyone was ignoring them and devouring their food on the spot.

           Where the hell was Frisk? Even at Sans' height, it took him a moment to locate her. But someone finally moved aside, and his SOUL leapt like an excited little dog at the sight of its favorite human. She was perched on a corner of the bar, tiny feet swinging, wearing her black cloak and a high-necked gown; an intrepid kid had wormed his way into her lap, and Frisk was petting his seahorse-shaped head as she listened to old Gerson. She said something that made the elderly tortoise chortle and whap the bar with his stick, and Sans tried to edge forward.

           "Hey!" barked Undyne. The entire place fell quiet as the Captain got down from her chair and stalked over to Sans. "You shouldn't be in here," she scolded him. "Does this look like a good place to just hang out right now? Huh?"

           The boss monster ignored her and glared at Gerson, who was occupying both barstools at that corner. Then he looked at Frisk, who was smiling at him, and he immediately forgot what he was mad about. He tried to think of something witty: "Uh." Shuffle. "Hi."

           "Ugh! I know the note said we'd be here, but I didn't mean for you to come right in and—are you listening?!" The fish monster had to sock him in the radius to get his attention. "Look, doofus, if you're gonna take up space, do it over there!" She pointed at the gramophone in the corner.

           Sans obediently trudged through the press of monsters and stationed himself near Frisk. Undyne followed him, nodding respectfully to Gerson. "So, boss. How was it, living in the lair of the enemy?" the Captain inquired, leaning against the bar. When he looked blank, she prompted, "How'd the humans treat you?"

           Why was she asking this now, and what was that look she was giving him? ...Oh, fuck, that was right. She might have seen him on the floor in Frisk's room before he shortcut away, and was fishing for information. Ha. He didn't know whether Frisk had successfully denied it or not; better err on the side of being dickish about humans. "It sucked. They're dumb, they smell weird, an' they all stared at me like a friggin' zoo animal," he complained.

           Frisk shifted to look at him, and he quailed at her expression. "Excuse me," she said coldly. "Are you going to mention that you had your own room with a bed even bigger than you are, or how much food you had brought straight to you every single day? All you had to do in return was read and put things in bottles!"

           "Seriously?" Undyne punched one fist into her other hand. "Didn't you have to fight for your life against terrible odds, or steel your resolve and withstand all kinds of torture, or something?"

           "It was a feather bed with silk sheets," said Frisk, and Undyne made a retching sound.

           "Wah ha ha!" Gerson thumped the bar again. "If you ever need another apprentice, girlie, sign me up! Won't hear me complainin'!"

           "Me neither," said the kid on Frisk's lap. To Sans' absolute disgust, the seahorse's curved head was snugged up under her bosom, the cloak tucked in like a blanket. Her hood was down, and in the bar's overhead lights, he was reminded of that fateful moment where he'd seen her clearly for the first time, the delicate symmetry of her features and the beautiful red tones in her eyes...

           Sans didn't realize he was staring until Undyne coughed. "So all humans are gross and dumb, huh?" She scratched behind her right fin. "Well, if you had to get stuck with one, at least you wound up with Frisk. I mean, she's not that bad, right?"

           "Uh..." Fuckin' Undyne! Was she being sarcastic, or actually trying to figure out how he felt? If so, should he try to convince her that he wasn't interested in Frisk, or at least that he wasn't completely batshit in love with her?

           ...Crap. They were waiting for the next batch of pancakes to finish cooking, so the line had stalled, and now a bunch of other monsters were listening. All it would take was one idiot gossiping about Sans' interspecies love affair for it to get back to Asgore, who would lose what was left of his big dumb mind. Sans had to throw them off...but what could he even say?

           Double crap. He made the mistake of looking at Frisk, who had picked up a fork from the bar and—god damn it, she was looking back at him and tapping it against her lips! As if he needed a reminder that she was still stunningly beautiful, or to think more about kissing her. The seahorse was now asleep on her lap, completing the picture of a woman he couldn't hate any less.

           Sans gave himself a mental kick in the nuts: he had to say something before someone noticed him ogling her. "Well...it...coulda been worse," he said, turning his head dismissively, "but you should see what she does t'books. She folds the pages up like a damn kid!"

           "Oh, yes, I just loved having a ten-foot mother-in-law telling me what I could do with my own things," the human shot back. She turned to address the snickering monsters: "Not only did he get literally one hundred eighty square feet of bed to himself while I slept on the couch like a vagrant, he spent an hour in the tub every single night. I kept having to bang on the door and wake him up! And he has the nerve to complain about how I treated my books?"

           The snickering increased as Sans' skull grew warm. Was she playing along, or was she actually mad? Why didn't anything make sense anymore?! "Yeah, well, you snore" was all he could think to say.

           With unnerving speed, Gerson swung his stick up and around till it was pointing at Sans' sternum. "And how do you know that, sonny boy?" he demanded.

           That was a good question, and the others were eagerly awaiting his response. Sans didn't have the guts – ha – to look at Frisk, so he just shrugged. "I could hear it through two closed doors," he said casually.

           Their listeners chuckled, clearly buying it, but Undyne grinned wider. "Good thing he doesn't like humans. You never had to worry about him trying anything weird," she said loudly to Frisk, who was covering her face with one hand. The Captain glanced back at Sans. "Right? 'Cause you don't like humans?"

           "Right," said the boss monster. Just in case, he added, "'m not interested. They're too...uh...lumpy."

           "Lumpy?" Undyne repeated, voice cracking.

           "Lumpy," Frisk mumbled into her hand, and Sans bade a silent farewell to his chances of making it through the day alive.

           Gerson snorted. "Never you mind him, girl. I remember when you were even smaller, and you flirted with every monster you met—why doncha try it again? Promise I won't laugh this time!"

           The human raised her head long enough to say, "No, sir, but I think you'd fall asleep before we got anywhere interesting," and the monsters roared with laughter, all except Sans.

           "That's a fair point," Gerson admitted, once he'd recovered. "A doll like you shouldn't be stuck with a stinky old thing like me. Maybe one of these other fine specimens of monsterhood would suit ya better?"

           "Yeah, I'm a fine specimen!" someone called out, prompting more laughter, and cries of "Me too!" and "I'm not, but I'll learn!"

           "I don't think so," Undyne said flatly, to Sans' eternal gratitude. "Frisk has a lot of work to do, and she's not gonna be here that long. Anyone who messes with her on my watch is gonna be my new training dummy. Got it?"

           "Agreed," the giant skeleton muttered. "Don't want anybody interruptin' her bein' a perfect princess an' fixin' all the world's pr—"

           Tng went Frisk's palm on the bar, slamming the fork down and nearly startling Gerson onto the floor. "Don't call me that!"

           A moment of apprehensive silence, and then the line began moving again, the monsters whispering to each other and glancing over their shoulders. Well, it'd definitely worked, Sans thought, trying to get his SOUL moving again. No one would think anything was going on between them now. ...How was that little shit still asleep on her?

           "Okay, okay," said Undyne, chagrined. "Geez. You're one to talk, boss."

           "What's that supposed to mean?" Frisk asked suspiciously, saving him the trouble.

           Gerson gave three rapid thumps on the floor. "Very true, Miss Undyne! Very true. Here's an interesting fact for ya," he said to the priestess. "When it comes to sowin' their oats, your average monster's not in any hurry, but bosses? They're almost as determined as humans! Wah ha ha!"

           Frisk smiled weakly. "Ahh, I'm just funnin' with you. Don't worry about Sans," Gerson assured her. "Most folks don't know this, but romantically speaking, boss monsters ain't much of a threat to anyone. Sure, they've got that drive to have offspring, but they're too picky to do much about it." He waggled his stick in Sans' direction. "This fella's SOUL ain't interested in anybody weaker than he is. If he can't find another boss monster, he won't fix on anyone at all."

           Sans' mouth fell open, and clicked shut. "Wait. What?"

           The old tortoise cackled again. "Haven't you noticed, sonny?" he asked. "You're not interested in the ladies – or gents – 'cause none of 'em have enough magic to handle ya. Your SOUL can tell when you meet someone who might work out, and it ignores everybody else. It's instinct—keeps you from hurting a lesser monster by mistake. 'Course, the royals have each other, or at least they did, but..." His shrug was eloquent, almost pitying. "Not sure what to tell you, young skeleton. Hope you find a way to scratch that itch someday."

           "Are you serious? How do you know that? Why the hell didn't I know that?!" Sans was too angry to notice how red Frisk was, or how wide Undyne's eye had gotten. "D'ya know how much I've been worryin' about what'd happen if I—" He caught himself just in time. "—got really interested in someone? Yer tellin' me that just bein' interested means it's safe ta go for it?"

           "Wah ha! It sure would!" Thump thump. "Ya really didn’t know that? Didn't you get 'the talk' from Asgore or Toriel?"

           Sans shook his head. He'd never talked to the King about personal stuff, and Toriel knew how much he hated being a boss monster, so she hadn't brought it up. She certainly never told him what to expect if he did find a potential mate. Sans couldn't really blame her; how was she supposed to know he'd meet someone like Frisk?

           Gerson harrumphed at him. "Well, some of us remember how the King and Queen were before the Prince was born—couldn't keep their hands off each other! I had to have a talk with 'em about corrupting our youth with their bad example, and Asgore went on and on about how their SOULs couldn't help it! Poor Toriel wouldn't look me in the eye for a month afterwards!" He cackled yet again. "Not the sort of thing I'd go around repeating to just anyone, is it?"

           "Yeah, well, I wish you'd repeated it to me!"

           "How fascinating," said Frisk, tilting her head to feign curiosity. That wasn't fair: he knew she was faking, and it was still the cutest damn thing he'd ever seen. "So I don't have to worry about Sans bothering me?" she asked innocently.

           "Not unless you're a boss monster, too!" The tortoise had a hearty chuckle at that idea.

           No one really joined in, especially not Sans, who was remembering his own words to Alphys. "If humans had anythin' like boss monsters, she'd be one fer sure"...

           Suddenly, the little seahorse on Frisk's lap jerked awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with one long, hand-like fin. "Good morning," the priestess said kindly.

           He yawned a weird little yawn, and mumbled, "Good morning, Princess."

           Frisk stiffened. Sans resisted the urge to tie the kid in a knot as the human said, "No, dear. When Sans called me that, he was being sarcastic," with an inflection that made the skeleton wince. "I'm not actually a princess."

           Blink. "Oh." Blink. "I don't get it. Aren't you Chara? You were here before, and Lady Toriel said—oww!"

           Gerson had rapped the seahorse between the ears with his stick. "Pay attention, sprout," he said severely. "Chara died before you were even hatched. This here is Miss Frisk, you got that?"

           The little monster mumbled an apology, ears drooping. Grillby saved them all from further awkwardness by moving over and crackling something at Gerson, who nodded and leaned over to whisper to Undyne, who stood up in turn and stomped the floor for everyone's attention. "Two dozen pancakes left, and we're out of hash browns!" she called out. "Everyone who hasn't gotten theirs yet, count off! One! Two! Three—"

           Groaning arose as "Four," "Five," "Six" came down from the head of the line, ending in a triumphant "Twenty-four!" near the door.

           "What the hell," complained the twenty-fifth monster. "I didn't come all the way from Waterfall to get screwed again!"

           "You shouldn't have come to eat our food in the first place," Dogamy snapped.

           "Everyone was already lining up, and I was all the way at the back! So I came to get something for the kids—"

           "Well, you should've thought of that before you went and had another one," Faun cut in. "It's people like you who're the problem, making more mouths to feed instead of helping the rest of us!"

           "Oh, like you ever get your lazy carcass out to work the fields! I'm trying to keep our race from dying out, and you—"

           "No, you—"

           Someone shoved someone else, and in a flash, Undyne interposed herself between them. "Take it outside!" she ordered, addressing the angry latecomers as a whole. "Or, don't fight each other over something we can't control! Put some of that energy where it counts!"

           "Like where? Going out to look for food and getting captured by humans like her?"

           It was no use: more squabbles and counter-squabbles started breaking out, and within seconds, the place was in chaos. Sans moved in front of Frisk, knowing he couldn't trust himself to join the fray—he was already agitated, and it’d be too easy to kill someone by mistake. Undyne had no such qualms, and was dragging a couple of miscreants around in headlocks when an ear-splitting whistle brought everyone to their knees.

           The only exception was the child on Frisk's lap. The priestess had shielded his ears with one hand, and was lowering the other from her mouth. "There's more coming," she said into the pained silence, voice clear and steady. "Sans has arranged to pick up several hundred pounds of food, two days from now. We'll bring it straight back here, and every last one of you will have some, including your families." Frisk gave the room a slight smile. "If I'm lying, feel free to eat me instead."

           Before anyone else could speak, Gerson tapped the bar next to her. "Is it true that you're in talks to buy us that place on the river?" he asked.

           "Yes, and we can improve your existing farmland in the meantime," replied Frisk.

           Murmurs arose throughout the room, hope warring with skepticism. "Well," Gerson said slowly, "on behalf of the entire Underground, I've got to say—"

           "OH MY GOD!" Sans and Frisk both sighed as Papyrus waved from the doorway. "CAPTAIN UNDYNE! THE QUEEN IS HERE! SHE WANTS TO SEE KRIS RIGHT AWAY!"

           The crowd gasped, monsters hurrying to stand aside for Frisk; she waved away Sans' proffered hand, set the kid on the bar, and hopped down. "I'll be right there," she called to Papyrus, and walked out through the aisle, smiling at each monster in passing.

           That was what did the trick, Sans thought, along with Pap getting her name wrong—good reminders of the warm-hearted human they'd known and loved. The murmuring started right back up again, but now the thoughtful or hopeful voices were much louder, the pissy ones silent.

           The seahorse had floated down to the floor and was bobbing his way through the crowd. Watching him go, Sans wondered about Frisk's reaction to being called a princess. Not only should she be one, as far as he was concerned, she should be in line to rule the whole damn kingdom. Judging from her performance as High Priestess, she'd be damn good at it, much better than her scrawny little half-brother...

           Undyne had left right after Frisk, and the other monsters were filing out. When the place was nearly empty, Gerson muttered, "You've got to do better than that, son."

           The giant skeleton shook himself and scowled at the old man. "Whaddya mean? I didn't attack anyone. I was just makin' sure nobody went after Frisk."

           Another laugh, shorter and more cynical. "You're about three hundred years too young to play dumb with me, boy!" Gerson brandished the stick at him. "What I mean is, I don't blame you for bein' sweet on her, but you can't keep looking at her like that. For one thing, it's embarrassing! Wah ha ha!" Thu-thump. "More importantly," he said, sobering in an instant, "people 'round here have nothing to do but talk. No one's forgotten the whole mess with Chara, 'specially not His Majesty. Better not give him a reason to think history's gonna repeat itself."

           Sans tried to formulate a denial, and also several questions, but then the old tortoise banged his stick on the floor again, this time to assist himself in sliding off the barstools. "I'd tell you to leave her be," he grumbled, "but if your SOUL's made up its mind, I suppose there's no helping it." A gross, multi-part sniffle. "That little lady, strong enough to match a boss monster? Ha! Will wonders never cease?" He adjusted his pith helmet. "Well, feel free to come see me in Waterfall, the both of you—but not till tomorrow! This was plenty of excitement for one day! Wah ha!"

           "Hold up!" Sans protested as the tortoise started shambling toward the door. "What do you mean, 'the whole mess with'—"

           Right on cue, there was a cry of "BROTHER!" as Papyrus popped his head in. "BROTHER, COME AND SEE! KRISK HAS BROUGHT PUZZLES! THERE'S ONE FOR YOU, TOO!"

           Ah, the gifting had begun. Sans waved him away. "Tell 'er ta get started without me."

           "REALLY? IF YOU SAY SO... OH! HELLO, SIR GERSON! THE HUMAN SAID TO TELL YOU THAT SHE HAS PEANUT BRITTLE, NYEH-HEH!"

           "Ooooh," the elderly monster said, perking up. The moment Papyrus was gone, Gerson turned and rapped his stick on Sans' patella. "There you have it, boy! It's like my old mam always said: 'Gerson, if you ever find a girl who remembers how much an old fart like you loves his peanut brittle, you hang on to her, human or not!'"

           Sans highly doubted that Gerson's old mam had ever said that, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. In fact, he wasn't in the mood for much of anything. Instead, he turned to the bartender as Gerson gradually left. "Hey, Grillbs. I’ve got a few minutes—what's on tap today?"

           It was disgusting, he knew, but the simple fact was that Grillby had to stay in business somehow. When there was no food to serve, he could always sell drinks, and when there were no drinks, he had gotten creative—for example, the "mudslide" he slid down the bar to Sans was named for its primary ingredient and sprinkled with enough magic to…still taste like mud. But it was a drink!

           The bartender wandered over as Sans downed the whole thing at once, remembering too late that he could have just put his tongue away and avoided tasting it at all. Clearly, he needed to drink a little more and get his head on straight. The skeleton gestured for another, and when Grillby crackled at him, Sans just said, "Don't worry, Frisk'll pay my tab."

           The flames on Grillby's eyebrows rose higher, but he produced another mudslide and watched Sans gulp it down. "So," said the boss monster, "I kinda remember what happened with Chara, but my memory ain't what it used to be since everythin’ blew up in my face." He held his mug out. "Wanna tell me a little more 'bout ‘er?"

 ~

             "...and this is for you, too," said Frisk, placing another box in front of Toriel.

           The goat monster shook her head. "Goodness, child, you shouldn't have! How am I supposed to carry all this back with me?"

           "Make Sans do it," Undyne suggested, to general approval.

           They had decided to tackle the gift distribution in stages, starting with Papyrus, Undyne, and Toriel, and were opening them in the skeleton brothers' living room. Papyrus was happily occupied with his first gift, an interlocking ring puzzle; he'd declined to open anything else yet, ostensibly to wait for his brother, but mostly out of impatience to get the rings apart.

           "Speaking of which, where is Sans?" asked Toriel. Papyrus was already muttering to himself, the rings clicking as he began tugging harder.

           "Who knows, Your Majesty?" Undyne had only a few boxes by her feet, and was doing her best not to look at them too hard until everything had been doled out. She brightened as Frisk set two more down for her. "Is that all of 'em?"

           "That's all for everyone here." Frisk picked up the very last package, straining a little to lift it, and took it to the back room. When she returned, she said, "You can open them now, Lady Toriel, or wait until you get home. Since we're staying so close by, Undyne, I think you can go ahea—"

           The Captain had already ripped open her first box and tossed the lid aside. She paused and squinted at an array of bottles nestled in white cotton. "What's all this?"

           "There's regular moisturizer, waterproof moisturizer, burn ointment, treatment for scale rot, an antiseptic for small cuts, and armor polish," Frisk explained, pointing to each in turn. "I infused everything myself, except the polish."

           "Thanks! I hope you don't expect me to remember all that," Undyne commented, bending to grab the next box and catching herself mid-rip. "Oh. Uh, sorry, Your Majesty. Your turn."

           Toriel smiled. "Please go ahead, Captain. I—"

           The box was already wide open. "Whoa!" It was a set of the "history books" Undyne had admired on the humans' last visit—the most action-filled comics Frisk could find, much more violent than the story-driven ones Alphys liked. She grabbed the top one and flipped through it gleefully. "Ha ha! I can't believe it! Are those his guts?"

           "NYEHHH!" Meanwhile, Papyrus was now reduced to banging the rings on the arm of the couch. "HUMAN! I DO NOT WISH TO ALARM YOU, BUT IT SEEMS THAT YOU HAVE BEEN SOLD A DEFECTIVE PUZZLE!" He gave the rings a final shake and threw them on the floor, then plunked himself down on the couch, arms grumpily folded.

           Undyne glanced up from her comic and snickered. Papyrus looked very hurt until his friend bent to pick up the separated rings, holding them over her head like spoils of war. "See, Pap? You gave it your all, and look what happened!" She threw the rings back on the floor and caught his arms to pull him up for a triumphant noogie. "I knew you had it in you!"

           "Y-YES, OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN CONQUER ANY PUZZLE! N-NYEH-HEH-HEH! ...PLEASE STOP CELEBRATING MY GREAT VICTORY!"

           "I believe I'll open something now," Toriel murmured, leaving Papyrus to extricate himself. She unwrapped the paper on the top box, peeked inside, and immediately gave a squeal of joy. "Oh, my goodness! My child, how did you—" She clasped her hands. "Are those real vanilla beans?! And—"

           "I didn't know the exact recipe, so I got every pie ingredient I could think of," Frisk said, grinning at Toriel's excitement. She slid out the bottom box in the stack. "Check these next, please. I couldn't remember if you needed salted and unsalted butter, so I got both."

           "Yes, I do! But..." The boss monster pulled out tall jars of milk, buttermilk, and heavy cream, then looked at her narrowly. "I don't wish to be rude, but how long have you been transporting these? I know the weather is cold, but won't they have spoiled by now?"

           "Not on my watch," declared Frisk. "I used a few preservatives—if you put a little in the jar beforehand, it keeps the contents fresh for up to a week without affecting the flavor."

           "Seriously?" Even Undyne was interested. "That's pretty neat. Is this the kind of stuff you've been teaching Sans?"

           "Yes, it is. He knows how to make preservatives, medicine, fertilizer—I brought the recipes and ingredients for those, too. You'll be able to save a huge amount of magic using them."

           "I see," Toriel said slowly. She smiled, almost a grimace, as she put the jars away. "It may not have been under the best circumstances, but I am very thankful that he met you again, my child. His life has very hard since...since the accident, and I have not been as supportive as I could have. Spending time with a wonderful friend like you must have been such a relief to him."

           "Don't be so hard on yourself, Majesty. You had a lot of problems, too," protested Undyne.

           "Yes, but I..." Toriel was definitely grimacing now. "I suppose you're right, Captain. Still, I am very glad to know that he has been in Frisk's care."

           Frisk was fighting another blush. Her neck still itched from the healing spell the innkeeper had given her for the “crick” in her neck before they checked out that morning. "I hope I’ve helped. I know what it's like to lose someone, and to feel alone. I've missed you all so much," she said truthfully. "I just wish it was safe for some of you to come back with us for a visit."

           Toriel's golden gaze sharpened. "With 'us,' my child? What do you mean?"

           "Sans is gonna escort her home," Undyne said quickly. "Also, she wants bring some of our stuff back with her to show off, but she doesn't know how it all works. The humans are kinda used to Sans by now, so we figured he might as well tag along."

           "That does sound like a good idea," Toriel agreed, and Frisk caught Undyne's eye for a grateful moment. "Would you like to open something else now, Papyrus?"

           "HM?" The skeleton was playing with the rings again, figuring out how to lock them back together. "NO, THANK YOU, LADY TORIEL. I'LL WAIT FOR SANS. WHERE IS HE?"

           Undyne was already tearing open another box, unasked. "Oh, no way! Are these targets?!"

           "Of course! They look like wood, but it's actually metal." Frisk got up to look out the window. Where was Sans?

           "Who knows? Maybe he found a lady friend," Undyne said absently, flicking the metal discs to test their sturdiness.

           "That's not a nice thing to say, Undyne," Toriel reproved her.

           For half an irate second, Frisk thought Toriel was angry on her behalf. Then her brain caught up, and she turned to ask, "Why? Because there aren't any other boss monsters?"

           "Exactly," said the former Queen, "and a lesser monster would not suit him. It's honestly a bit cruel to suggest that he—"

           "WHAT ABOUT A HUMAN?" Papyrus asked without looking up.

           Pause. "A human?" Toriel repeated as Undyne and Frisk glanced at each other in alarm.

           "YES. HUMANS ARE PLENTIFUL, AND SOME OF THEM HAVE MAGIC! COULDN'T SANS BORROW ONE? FOR EXAMPLE, FRISK IS VERY—"

           "No."

           Everyone froze at the vehemence in Toriel's voice. The boss monster breathed in, and out, almost baring her teeth. "I...excuse me. I need to check that this is everything necessary for a pie."

           Undyne let the targets slide off her lap as Toriel took her boxes to the kitchen. "What's the matter with you, Papyrus?" the Captain hissed. "Why’d you have to go and bring up humans? Don't you remember what happened with Chara?"

           The skeleton's brow creased. "JUST THAT THE HUMAN PRINCESS WENT TO LIVE WITH OTHER HUMANS...WHEN WAS IT AGAIN?"

           "A little over…what, twenty years ago? I guess you were probably just a kid, but still…" Undyne saw how intently Frisk was listening, and sighed. The Captain checked the kitchen, where Toriel was occupied with moving things around and muttering to herself, then beckoned them closer. "Okay, here’s the short version. A bunch of humans came to see the King," she said quietly. "They were here for a couple weeks, and Chara got really depressed after they left. The King wound up sending her off to marry one of the guys she'd met—didn’t you learn this in history class, Pap?"

           Papyrus still looked blank, and the fish monster sighed in exasperation. "Anyway, she came right back here 'cause the marriage didn't work out, not sure why. Asgore had a huge fight with Asriel and the Queen about whether Chara should stay here or go marry another human. He made her leave again, but she never got married to anyone, and she didn't come back until the visit where everyone blew up."

           "OH." Papyrus looked at the reconnected rings in his hand. "WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH SANS MARRYING A HUMAN?"

           There went Frisk's face again. "Because," mumbled Undyne, "as far as everyone is concerned, it all happened because a human got too involved with monsters—an adult human,” she clarified, nodding at Frisk. “The whole problem with Chara was that there was no one here for her to pair off with. Monsters can always figure out a way to combine their magic if they really want to have kids, but she didn't have any magic at all, so it wouldn’t have worked. Besides, humans barely even live sixty years. Asgore thought it'd cause too much heartache if she stayed."

           Papyrus digested this information for a moment, then said at least part of what Frisk was thinking: "DIDN'T IT CAUSE A LOT MORE HEARTACHE TO SEND HER AWAY? THIS WAS HER HOME, AND THEY WERE HER FAMILY, EVEN IF SHE COULDN’T GET MARRIED."

           "That's exactly what Asriel and Toriel thought, and they never forgave him for it. Then both Chara and Asriel wound up dead, and Asgore blamed every single thing on the humans. Then Toriel stood up in front of everyone and said it was his own damn fault for throwing their child out like a dog, twice, and here we are now."

           Frisk shivered. Those were Chara's words from the day Frisk hid in the living room and overheard those terrible things. As a child, she hadn't understood why Chara seemed to hate her kind, loving parents so much. Poor Princess, Frisk thought bitterly, digging her nails into her leg. "Papyrus," she said aloud, "check your gray box. It's not a puzzle."

           A moment later, Toriel looked up at a strange sound, like air hissing out of a broken pipe. She finished re-packing the pie ingredients and turned to see Papyrus holding up a bundle of dry pasta, some ground beef, various herbs, and a bag of fresh tomatoes. His sockets were the size of salad plates, and he was making a noise that could best be described as a pre-scream.

           "Hey, would you look at that, Pap! You haven't made spaghetti in years! What have you done?" Undyne said through gritted teeth, ending with a glare at Frisk.

           As expected, Papyrus paid no attention. He had just enough presence of mind to set the box down gently before he exploded into a rapturous, unbroken "THANK YOOOOU" that lasted at least two straight minutes, starting with a huge hug-and-twirl for Frisk, then Undyne as she rescued the human, and finally ending in the kitchen with "LADY TORIEL!!! LOOK!!!!"

           "That is wonderful, Papyrus, but…oh, dear! Look at the time," Toriel exclaimed. "Ladies, may I expect you at my house tonight, around eight o’clock? I'll have a pie waiting!"

           Frisk bit back her reflexive protest about Sans. "What about the rest of your gifts?" she asked instead.

           Toriel smiled at her. "We can come back here tomorrow, of course! After all, I missed seeing Sans today. We don't need to stay cooped up in the Ruins for your entire visit!"

           "AND IT MAY BE POSSIBLE THAT I WILL HAVE LEFTOVER SPAGHETTI FOR YOU, LADY TORIEL!" added Papyrus. "NOT THAT I EXPECT IT TO GO UNEATEN, NYEH! I WILL MERELY BE SURE TO MAKE ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE. I WOULD HATE FOR YOU TO MISS THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF CULINARY PERFECTION!"

           "Yes, of course," the former Queen said kindly, eye twitching only a little.

           The priestess hesitated, and Undyne stepped in again: "We'll see what happens this afternoon, Your Majesty. We've got a lot more stuff to give out, and Alphys wants to see Frisk, too. I don't know how late we'll be back here tonight, and it's a long walk to the Ruins—"

           "That's what Sans is for!" Toriel said gaily, and Frisk felt a twinge of irritation. "If I come across him," the boss monster continued, gathering up the boxes of ingredients, "I will be sure to send him straight here. Until then, my child, please enjoy your stay. I'll see you this evening!"

           There was no way out of it, so Frisk smiled and nodded and waited for the door to close before she said, "Dammit."

           Undyne shrugged sympathetically. "It's a mom thing. Mine was the same way."

           Frisk bent to pick up handfuls of packing paper. "So was mine," she muttered.

           The Captain waited for more, but Frisk went on grabbing and folding up paper until it became apparent that that was all. Undyne shrugged, glanced at her unopened boxes, and shrugged again, reaching for the comics. "Just put it outside," she advised as Frisk looked around for a larger trashcan. The human sighed, draping her cloak over her shoulders as she opened the door.

           Papyrus was puttering around the kitchen in sheer bliss. Out of habit, Undyne got up to supervise, and they were soon embroiled in a deathmatch against the tomatoes and noodles. "Higher! HIGHER!" the Captain yelled. "Remember! You have to break your foes' fighting spirit! Hear their cries of defeat and smell their agony!"

           The skeleton clanged the wooden spoon harder against the sides of the pot. "Yes! I hear it!" he exclaimed.

           "Yes! Good! You—" Undyne stopped. "Wait. I hear it, too." She went to the door, through which came a distinctive, high-pitched sound. "Oh," she said in disgust. "What the hell is he doing here?" The fish monster reached for the doorknob. "Close your ears, Pap."

           Papyrus blinked, spoon still poised for a mortal blow. "But I don't have—"

           Undyne opened the door, and the skeleton dropped the spoon into the sauce mixture as a shrill mechanical voice cut through the air: "I simply can't believe it! My little beauty grew into such a real beauty! What a sight for sore eyes amidst all these...these monsters!"

           "Shut up, tin man," snapped the Royal Guard Captain, coming onto the porch. "I—oh! Hey, Alphys! Where did you guys come from?"

           "From a place with manners." Mettaton adjusted his fur stole and swept back his fringe of real black hair. "That awful skeleton said my little beauty was here, so I came all this way—"

           "Do you know where Sans is?" demanded Frisk, who was still recovering from the shock of going to take out the garbage and encountering Mettaton instead.

           "Y-yes," said the scientist, coming up behind the automaton. "He came to see me in a p-panic because he forgot how to teleport home. I hope he's still sleeping back in the l-lab."

           Frisk stood stock-still. “He forgot…?”

“Pffffahahahaha!" The fish monster slammed her fist into the side of the house. "Oh my God! I knew I should have dragged him out of Grillby's when I had the chance! He was drunk, wasn't he?"

           Alphys just sighed. Frisk growled under her breath, which made Undyne laugh even harder. "He..." She choked back a sob. "He was right here, and he walked all the way to...to..."

           Pause. "I think he t-took the ferry," Alphys said, and moved back as the Captain collapsed into a snorting heap.

           Oh, for God's sake, Sans! "Never mind. It's wonderful to see you again, Mettaton!" she said with unfeigned enthusiasm, shaking the automaton's still-pearly-gloved hand. His arms were much less floppy now, his body more streamlined, face smoothly outlined with tiny gemstones. Before he could launch into any further praise, the human moved aside and took Alphys' clawed hand. "And thank you so much for coming all the way here, Doctor. It means a lot to me."

           There was that shy, scaly smile. "Th-thank you, um, Frisk. I'm r-really glad you're here." She chuckled nervously. "This is going to t-take some getting used to. But...you are v-very p-pretty."

           Frisk smiled wider, and bent to give the scientist a hug. “Thank you,” she said in Alphys’ ear. “I’ve really missed you.”

The scientist mumbled something, then yelped as Undyne suddenly scooped them both up. "You know what else? This lady brought a buttload of presents for everyone,” she announced, setting them down on the porch. “Go on in while I grab your stuff!"

           "I..." It was no use pointing out that the living room was about a third of the size required to open all the additional gifts, especially Mettaton's: Undyne was already charging toward the shed. "Yes, please, come in," said Frisk, leading the way inside. It would pass the time till Sans got back, she thought ruefully.

 ~

             It wasn't his fault. Grillby had talked, and Sans had drank mudslides, and then Sans didn't know where he was anymore.

           Everything was a blur for a while after that. He had no explanation for why he kept walking back and forth past his house, or how he wound up on the ferry, or how long he'd been lying outside the lab when Mettaton's rib-prodding woke him up. Sans had made it inside and found some nice cool floor to collapse on, and nothing else happened for a while.

           Then a horrible, oozing feeling of dread crept over him, starting at the top of his cranium and trickling down till it hit his SOUL. He twisted to look upward at a familiar little pair of feet. The demon-child was suddenly peering down into his face, waving merrily, whispering, “Good to be back.”

           And then it was gone. It stayed gone, too—no more fear, no nightmares, nothing. That was a relief, but a really weird one. The thing probably hadn’t even been there; it was just the mudslide talking…

The next time Sans awoke, he was alone, and any lingering apprehensions vanished as he looked at the clock. It was already late afternoon, heading into the evening. Shit! Where was Alphys? Where was Frisk?!

           ...Right. She was in Snowdin. Okay.

           Where was Snowdin?!

           Think, think. Snowdin: he lived there. It had his house. Sans took stock of his magic, which was doing well, and his mental capabilities, which could probably direct his teleportation now without getting him encased in solid rock or dropping him hundreds of feet from the cavern ceiling. The giant skeleton concentrated, and a moment later, he was back on the floor in his own room.

           An odd smell was drifting up from the kitchen almost directly below. Dammit, he'd told Frisk not to actually get any spaghetti stuff! Oh, well, Pap sounded pretty happy. Where was everyone else?

           A faint thud on the side of the house answered that question; Undyne was outside, laughing her ass off. Not long after, the front door crashed open and more voices flooded the house. To his surprise, he heard Mettaton and maybe a little of Alphys before Undyne and Papyrus drowned her out. There was Frisk, too, directing things—how the hell were they going to fit everyone inside?

           The answer seemed to be a combination of Papyrus sitting on the stairs and Undyne smushing up against Alphys on the couch. Sans wished Undyne would hurry up and ask her out already; Al could use some non-fictional companionship, and the house could use a little less time with Undyne in it.

           Should he at least come out and say hi, even if he had to stay upstairs and lean over the railing? But he didn't feel like talking to everyone, or making them feel like they had to find room for him. Besides, for all he knew, Frisk was still mad at him, just because he'd been a stupid jerk in front of people and then disappeared without warning for half the day...

           No, better stay where he was for now, safe in his room, listening to them have fun as Undyne brought the presents in, and not feeling jealous or lonely at all.

           Mettaton went first, because he was Mettaton. He also had the bulkiest set of gifts, including several bolts of very expensive silk; the automaton was so overjoyed that he promised to have his tailors make a couple of things for Frisk, too, and loan her some of his new hair accessories. Sans just hoped he wasn't going to make her wear the literal paint she'd bought for his face!

           Did she even own any makeup? He'd never seen her wear more than a tiny bit. Come to think of it, he'd never seen her wear anything fancier than that dumb, sexy purple dress for All Souls Day.

           There was more mechanical jubilation from downstairs, this time over the sets of dance steps and sheet music. Now MTT was proposing a grand fete after the next shipment of food arrived and Frisk's measurements had been taken, perhaps toward the end of her visit. After all, she still couldn’t be sure that Asgore was willing to make peace between the two kingdoms, and whether the dance would be a celebration or a permanent send-off; more importantly, they couldn’t start planning till the caterers knew exactly what they'd be working with.

           Sans smirked into the darkness. A party, huh? As long as it didn't remind anyone of the farewell gala thirteen-ish years ago, then whatever, Frisk would love it; he'd be careful not to stare too hard if she got dressed up. He'd seen plenty of fancy ladies at the castle, and he was sure he could handle the sight of any—

           Cries of dismay came through the floorboards. The boss monster was ready to zip downstairs and start busting heads, but the furor died right down, and he soon pieced together what'd happened: Papyrus had come over to admire something with a plate of spaghetti in his hand, only to trip over...probably nothing, and Frisk had thrown herself between the silk on Mettaton’s lap and the flying arc of tomato sauce.

           The good news was that Mettaton was offering to take her laundry back with him, including a stain treatment for her sacrificed dress; the bad news was that she didn't have anything clean to wear in the meantime. There was a moment of silence as they tried to figure out what to do, with Mettaton's entourage all the way off in Hotland and the shops already closed for the day.

           Alphys spoke, and after another quiet moment, Papyrus yelled something, his footsteps tramping excitedly up the stairs, Frish right behind him. They clattered around for a minute in Pap’s room, probably the closet; then she headed to the bathroom at the end of the hall, Sans trying not to tense up as she walked by.

           He must have made some kind of noise, because now Papyrus was knocking on his door. "BROTHER? IS THAT YOU? IF THAT IS YOU, COME OUT THIS INSTANT! WE HAVE ALL BEEN CONCERNED ABOUT YOU AND YOUR TENDENCY TO DISAPPEAR FOR LONG PERIODS WITHOUT BEING HERE!"

           Sans cringed. Of course Pap would be worried about him not coming back! Feeling like a complete ass, the boss monster got up slowly, yawning wide and rubbing his sockets as he opened the door. "Hey, bro," he mumbled. "Sorry 'bout that. I just thought I'd get some rest, didn't know I was gonna fall asleep."

           "HMPH." Papyrus didn't just make the sound; he always had to say "hummff." "COME DOWNSTAIRS AND SAY HELLO TO OUR GUESTS. AND SPAGHETTI!! THE GREATEST GUEST OF ALL!!"

           Oh, for God's sake, Frisk! Why had she—no, there was no use crying about it now. He couldn’t count on giving it away to anyone, either: even the starvingest monster remembered what Pap’s cooking was like. "Whoa, really? Lemme see," Sans said with enough enthusiasm to make Papyrus race downstairs to the kitchen.

The boss monster came out and paused at the head of the stairs. There was a small table in the corner at the foot of the staircase; he lifted it up and set it down next to him in the hallway, then zipped himself down to sit in the now-free space. God, he hated being huge. "Hey, guys," he said, pulling his legs up to his ribcage.

           "What do you mean, 'hey, guys'?!" Undyne was glad for the excuse to put down her spaghetti, though it was difficult to find room for it on the floor. "What the hell have you been doing, besides being drunk and stupid?" She tried to stay angry, but a smirk kept showing through. "Did you seriously go all the way to the lab because you couldn't find your house?"

           A beat of silence. "Yes?" hazarded Sans.

           The only thing that saved Undyne from another attack of the giggles was the bathroom door opening upstairs. "Is that you, Sans?" called Frisk.

           His SOUL went pitter-patter again. "Yeah, I'm back. Couldn't stay away from Pap's spaghetti," he replied, earning a soft “NYEHH” from the kitchen.

           "I dunno, this might not be the right batch for you," Undyne said, loud enough for Frisk to hear. "The sauce is, uh, good, but it’s..." Snort. "It's..." Cough. "It's really lumpy."

           More silence. It took Sans a second to remember why he wanted to punch her for saying that, and then fucking Papyrus had to add,  “LUMPS ARE ESSENTIAL FOR PROPER FLAVOR!”

It was quiet upstairs; then Undyne snickered, and Frisk burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the stairwell and setting Undyne off again until both women were near tears.

           "Private jokes are for children, darling," Mettaton informed Undyne, nudging his own plate away with his foot.

           "You're for children," she mumbled, and Mettaton rolled his crystalline eyes.

           “WELL?” A moment of crisis united them again: Papyrus was in the kitchen doorway, looking expectant. Alphys bravely twirled up an entire forkful and crammed it in her mouth, moving her cheeks to fake a smile.

They all fell respectfully silent as Papyrus went back to the kitchen, Undyne grabbing a glass of water for Alphys to help wash it down. "Oh, d-dear. Well, getting back to your idea, M-Mettaton," the scientist wheezed, "we should r-really ask His Majesty b-before we have any big events like that."

           Mettaton clicked at her. "Oh, Alphys, it won't be anything excessive! Just a band, a few tables, every single monster in the Underground dressed in their absolute best—"

           "Like this?" Frisk asked wryly, coming down the last step.

           Sans had angled himself to face the others, and he stayed that way long enough to see their reactions first. For some reason, Mettaton looked as if he’d swallowed a bug. “Really, darling?” the automaton asked distastefully. “It’s like wrapping a star sapphire in toilet paper.”

Papyrus, on the other hand, was absolutely delighted: "AH HA! I KNEW IT WOULD FIT YOU, HUMAN! SANS, LOOK AT WHAT I'VE HAD IN MY CLOSET ALL THESE YEARS, JUST IN CASE, NYEH-HEH!"

           "I l-like it. If w-we ever had a costume party, that w-would be perfect," Alphys remarked, adjusting her glasses.

           Undyne snorted. "Yeah, except he didn’t look like that up top!"

           Sans had no idea what to expect when he turned his head. He’d just been imagining Frisk in a ruffly ballgown, and it occurred to him much later that if she’d come downstairs wearing something really fancy or weird, he’d have been fine. But she wasn’t, and he wasn’t.

           Frisk was wearing his old clothes. The blue hooded jacket, the white shirt, the black pants with white stripes—there they were, wrenchingly familiar and yet very different. For one thing, they were a bit too small on her; the pants reached the tops of her knees, while the shirt just barely covered her midsection. She wasn’t a lot taller now than he’d been before the accident, but as Undyne had immediately noticed, Frisk was filling it out far better than Sans ever had.

           Her perfect figure notwithstanding, it also hit him that she was wearing the most shoddy, unfashionable, lazily masculine clothes possible – hence Mettaton’s distress – and she still looked like a princess.

           "SPEECHLESS AT MY FORETHOUGHT, EH, BROTHER?" Papyrus had puffed his own chest out. "THE CLOTHING YOU WORE TO THE GALA MAY HAVE BEEN DESTROYED, BUT I HAD A SECOND, SECRET SET HIDDEN AWAY! DID YOU NEVER WONDER HOW I ALWAYS WASHED YOUR CLOTHES SO QUICKLY WHEN YOU WERE IN THE SHOWER?"

           Sans tried to say "Sort of," or literally anything else, but too many things were crowding his mind, starting with nostalgia, and amazement that he'd ever been that small, with some bemusement that she was still so tiny. But that outfit also represented everything he used to be, everything he wanted back and couldn't have...and Frisk, who he was supposed to pretend he didn't want.

           That was plenty of emotional crap to work through, and it wasn’t even his biggest problem. When Sans tried looking down to get ahold of himself, he found himself staring at the one thing that fit her perfectly.

           “YES, I EVEN PRESERVED YOUR SOCKS FOR POSTERITY!” boasted Papyrus. “I HAVE ALLOWED YOU TO KEEP THAT GIANT PILE IN YOUR ROOM, EXCEPT OF COURSE FOR THE ONES I MADE INTO SOCK PUPPETS. BUT THOSE THAT I SAVED AS REGULAR SOCKS HAVE BEEN AWAITING THE DAY WHEN SOMEONE COULD WEAR THEM AGAIN!”

           Sans made a noise. It could have been a disagreeable noise, or a polite one, or anything in between. He didn’t know, or care, because her feet were right there, and his dumb old socks had somehow become the most erotic thing imaginable—and he could imagine a lot of things. Sure, her feet had always been cute to look at because they were so small, but so was the rest of her. Those stupid goddamn socks were…more cute. A lot more.

           Not for the first time, he thought of last night, smelling and hearing and touching, and wondered what’d happen if they ever got around to that stuff again with more lights on. He could handle seeing her, or everything else at once, and literally no combination thereof.

           Frisk was looking at him, wine-colored eyes wide with puzzlement. “Sans?” She raised one foot to scratch her other calf. “Are you—”

Noooope nope— The only thing Sans could do to keep from tackling her in front of everyone was yell, “Be right back!” and take a shortcut to the first place he could think of.

 ~

             There was stunned silence in his aftermath. Alphys gave a faint, heartbroken moan of “Oh, c-c-c’mon, he was right at the best part!”

           “My, my,” Mettaton said slowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was being…amorous.”

           “Nope, no way, he’s just weird,” Undyne muttered. “He probably doesn’t have a thing for feet at all. …Geez, did you guys see the way he was staring?! What’s wrong with him?”

           Frisk was beet-red. “Well, dinner was absolutely delicious!” she chirped. “Thank you, Papyrus! So, Alphys! Why don’t you open your gifts now?!”

By unspoken consent, they turned to watch Alphys pick up her first box, passing their plates back for Frisk to discreetly scrape back into the pot and shove back into the refrigerator. Luckily, Papyrus wasn’t paying much attention; he was still staring at the foot of the stairs where his brother had been. “HOW STRANGE,” he muttered. “I REALLY THOUGHT HE’D LIKE THE SOCKS.”

 ~

             One hour later, the clock struck eight, and Asgore jerked upright, staring blearily into the semi-darkness. Only the kitchen light was on; the fireplace was down to the last embers. The King of monsters retrieved his cold tea, threw it into the grate, and got up to put the mug in the sink.

           A sound at the front door made him look up; a heavy knock made him scowl and raise his voice a little more than necessary. “Yes? Can it wait till morning?” he asked brusquely.

           “I don’t think ya should, Yer Majesty,” said a familiar voice.

           Asgore’s scowl deepened until he was nearly snarling. With great effort, he said, “One moment, Sans,” and tossed the mug into the kitchen, ignoring the sound of ceramic breaking. He took his time crossing the living room, and was in no hurry to unlock or open the door. “Good evening,” he eventually greeted the other boss monster.

           Sans was a couple of steps down, putting him and the King on eye level. “Evenin’,” he replied. “Sorry ta be here so close to bedtime, but I owe someone a favor.”

           Asgore raised an eyebrow. “A favor? What do y—”

           “Dreemurr.”

           The King stood as though he’d been changed to stone: not even his eyes moved as Toriel emerged from behind the leafless black tree in the courtyard. She nodded grimly, folding her hands. “I am here to say something to you about Frisk. Anything you say in return will be a waste of breath.”

No reaction. She nodded again and took another step forward, voice flat, eyes cold and hard. “You’ve allowed Frisk to be here, but I know you, Your Majesty. You’ll let the rest of her visit pass without so much as a word to her, and you will let her go home empty-handed, hoping Stephin will forbid her to come again and save you further discomfort. Never mind the possibility of procuring food for your people and freeing our kindred from slavery, unless you—”

           “Tori,” grunted Sans. “Leave ‘im alone. Get to the point.”

           Asgore glanced at him in surprise. Toriel ground her teeth, but after a moment, she said calmly, “You are right, my friend. I will be brief: I wish to inform His Majesty that if any harm befalls Frisk for any reason while she is here, there will be consequences…and that if His Majesty does not meet with her in a diplomatic capacity before she returns to the humans, I will do so.”

           Both men started. “You can’t do that,” the King protested. “When you left here—”

           Sans braced himself, and sure enough, Tori drew herself up till she seemed about thirty feet tall. “Do not tell me what I cannot do, Dreemurr!” she thundered. “When I left here, I ceased to be Queen, but I have not ceased to be me! You will not take another child from me, and I will not allow you to deprive our people of their last hope because you are too proud to admit your own incompetence! Do you understand?”

           One more long, frozen instant. Asgore took a deep breath…

           He slammed the door shut.

           Sans coughed theatrically. “So. That…that happened.”

           Toriel’s eyes closed. “Take us to Snowdin, please” was all she said.

           Sans complied, letting her come up and lay a furry hand on his arm before he whisked them through space and onto the porch of his house.

           “Thank you, my friend,” said Toriel. She gave him a tired smile. “I am so sorry. You wanted someone to talk to, and I made you take me straight to that close-minded, selfish—” The former Queen shook herself. “I…don’t suppose that whatever you wanted to talk about can be discussed in a minute or so? I’d like to collect the girls and head home now. If you want to stop by tomorrow—”

           “Nah, the timing’s my fault. Don’t worry, it’s a short thing,” Sans said absently. He glanced at the door, wondering if everyone was still there, then ceasing to wonder as he heard several different voices at once and also some clanking. It sounded like they were playing charades. “It’s more of a thing I’d like ya to think over so we can talk about it later. And don’t tell anyone. Please.”

           Toriel nodded pleasantly. “Of course, Sans. What is troubling you?”

           Sans grabbed the doorknob, said, “I’m in love with a human,” and opened the door to boisterous greetings of “Sans!” “Where have you been, punk?!” and “SANS! THANK GOODNESS! QUICK, HELP ME EXPRESS THE CONCEPT OF ‘SUMMER RAINDROPS’!”

#songfell #shoulda been like three ones oh well