#LET ALONE TENTS FULL OF KIDS. LET ALONE TENTS FULL OF PATIENTS. LET ALONE TENTS FULL OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE NO HOME ANYMORE.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 7 ~ Overthinking

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Word Count : 3.9k

In this chapter ~ Once the tension had died down, everyone full and content in the large space, Jenner leads the group to where they would be staying for the night. They were given the luxury of showers, beds, anything and everything the man had to offer for the time being. But Daryl seemed to fall into a bit of an awkward situation in the process. One that Rose seemed to find amusing.

After we all finished eating, scraping every crumb off of our plates and others drinking far too much, Jenner began to lead us down to where we would be staying. The hallways we walked through almost felt like a fever dream, the egg white colored walls and flickering fluorescent lights were starting to make my head spin as I felt like I had been here before. I knew I never had, but something about the look of it was making me grow uneasy.

"Most of the facility is powered down including housing so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you'd like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might like, just don't plug in the video games, okay? Oh, and if you shower, go easy on the hot water." Jenner explained and listed before turning back to us with a nod, leaving us alone once more so we could get comfortable.

"Hot water?" Glenn asks excitedly.

"That's what the man said." T-Dog confirmed with a smile.

Upon hearing that luxury, everyone seemed to slit off and spread out into different directions to find a room suitable enough to stay in. I found myself venturing further down the hall until I hit the very last room on the left, opening the door with a loud squeak as I peeked my head inside.

Everything was clean and white as I flipped on the light, seeing a few cots already laid out along with a couch tucked in the corner along with another door to which I only assumed was the bathroom. I set my stuff down on one of the counters, but didn't fully unpack because I wanted to be cautious and stay on alert. Even though this place seemed safe, who knows what could happen? And even if it was safe for now, we couldn't stay here forever hiding away like this, pretending what was happening outside wasn't real.

I opened up my bag and dug around through the many things stacked up in there to try and find some clean clothes to sleep in, when I suddenly heard a few quiet knocks on the door behind me. My head turned back just in time to see Daryl standing there awkwardly as he slowly entered the space with his things, leaving me waiting patiently for him to say something.

"Hey uh..." he started before clearing his throat uncomfortably, scratching an itch on the back of his reddened neck, "There ain't any rooms left and um...I sure as hell don't want to stay with Shane, so...do ya mind if we...share a room?"

With the way he asked, it seemed like the most uncomfortable question in the world for him to voice out loud, but I also nearly laughed at the sight. Another rare sight of him being nervous about something like this was more than amusing, though I flashed him a reassuring smile as I nodded.

"Yeah, sure. I mean you offered to let me sleep in your tent last night, so...really, I would just be an asshole if I said no." I joked.

The man then smiled his first real smile at me, though it was small, it was there as he ducked his head again, "Yeah, I guess yer right... thanks."

I nodded in return before turning back to finally find some clothes, moving things around messily in my backpack. From just behind me I could hear him moving around and shuffling his feet, placing his things and weapons down on the floor with a thud before flopping himself down on the couch with an exhausted huff.

"Is it okay if I take a shower first?" I asked as I turned around to face him again, to which he simply nodded.

Walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me, I gasped a bit quietly to myself as my feet hit the cold tile floor below me. That, and also this bathroom was massive. I took my time scanning the place before setting my clothes off to the side on the counter, stripping myself of my old ones. My eyes glanced over towards the mirror to my right to see my reflection briefly, before averting my gaze away just as quickly as before with a breath.

Just in that split second, was more than enough to know that I looked like shit, part of me not wanting to dwell on it too much because I never liked looking at myself in the mirror anyways my whole life. Now even more so as I just barely could see my slightly beaten up face that was still healing from the blows Ed threw at me. Cuts and bruising marking my flesh. My hair was also a knotted mess while there were prominent tired circles under my eyes that were hard just too dark to ignore. It was safe to say I desperately needed this shower.

I then moved towards the large shower and leaned in through the glass door to turn on the water, running my hand underneath to check how warm it was before slowly stepping inside. To say the fresh water felt amazing would be an absolute understatement. The steam rose above me towards the ceiling as the hot water reddened my light skin. I really took advantage of all the shampoo and conditioner lined out in front of me because my hair felt disgusting and dirty, and not to mention a tangled mess. It felt amazing being able to run my fingers through it again, not even remembering the last time I was able to do that without them getting stuck a million times. Managing curly hair in the apocalypse was something I didn't wish upon anyone else. I then scrubbed all of the dirt and blood off of my entire body with a washcloth and some lavender scented soap, ravishing in the smell before rinsing all the bubbles off.

As much as I wanted to stay there forever, stay warm and clean under the shower head, I wanted Daryl to have some hot water too so I eventually managed to pull myself out. I quickly dried myself off with a white fluffy towel and put on underwear, some shorts, and a long sleeve shirt, before using the towel to ring out my hair one last time as it seemed to be dripping all over the floor. After brushing through it as best as I could, gathering my dirty clothes to put back with my stuff, I opened the door again to the room which sent the steam I created flying out of the smaller space. My eyes glanced around for a moment enough to see that Daryl wasn't in the room anymore, but I just shrugged and got my things situated before finding myself trailing out to the hallway to check out the rec room that Jenner had briefly mentioned.

When I walked into the giant lounge room, I saw immediately that the kids were already in there playing a board game on the table as they looked up to greet me, Carl asking excitedly if I could play a round with them. I couldn't bring myself to say no. How could I when they looked at me with a sparkle in their eyes, just wanting one more player as the rest of the adults were off doing their own thing. Sitting myself across from them, I ended up playing three different rounds of Clue to which Sophia was the most victorious. I didn't know how she did it, but she managed to crack the case every damn time.

Eventually though Carol trailed back into the room, ushering the kids as it was getting late and time for them to both start getting ready for bed. I smiled at the two of them as they told me goodnight, following the woman back out the door and towards their rooms for the night before another intense round could begin.

After they left, I found myself standing back up to walk around and explore the rest of the room that was filled with tons of bookshelves to go through. My eyes caught a particularly bigger one in the back lining up against the wall that instantly drew me in as I began to pick through them, glancing at each of the titles. I liked to think I wasn't really much of a reader, but things can get really boring after a while with not much to keep yourself occupied, so I thought I would take a peek and see which ones looked worth reading to me.

But after a just few minutes of having my back facing the entrance, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up as I felt a pair of eyes watching me. The feeling caused me to stop my movements for a moment, before slowly continuing as I paid it no mind, wanting to just get a handful of books before turning in myself for the night. I knew that the person was still there, lingering ever so slightly, but I didn't do anything or make an effort to turn and face them, simply because I wanted to see how long they would wait. How long they were willing to stay in place.

A few moments passed just like that before I heard their footsteps entering the room very quietly, however I could still hear them quite well no matter how silent they tried to be. I honestly couldn't tell if they were trying to sneak up on me or not, but they were doing a very terrible job if they were.

Though after having my fun, I finally turned around when I felt them inch closer, surprising myself when I saw Daryl who now stood frozen in shock, just merely a few feet away from me.

"Well, hey stranger." I said with a small smile as I started to flip through one of the hard cover books I held in my hands.

He seemed to relax a little bit upon hearing my voice and chuckled a little to himself, "Ya got good ears. I was wonderin how long it would take ya to notice I was here."

"Oh, I knew the whole time." I said casually, not taking my eyes off the pages.

Without even having to look up, I could sense that what I said shocked him because all he managed to say was, "Huh?"

A small laugh passed through my lips as I glanced up at him through my lashes, "You're not the only one who's got some pretty good instincts. I knew you were there the whole time." I shrugged.

He stood there silently for a few moments as if trying to figure out what to say next, growing uneasy at the fact that he had just been caught. "Well, um... I guess that's a good skill ta have when there are walkers watchin ya every five minutes."

"Yeah...or people." I smirked.

Now he was really embarrassed and it took everything in me not to laugh to myself at his starstruck expression. The apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned a deep shade of red and he could no longer seem to make eye contact with me. He again settled with staring at the floor.

He coughed once to clear his throat before gesturing behind him with his thumb, "Right well um... m' gonna take a shower." he said before quickly leaving the room before I even had the chance to say anything else.

Once he left, this time I did find myself laughing to myself at what just happened. I had no idea why he was watching me or why he grew so nervous at just a five second conversation, but I wasn't planning to read too much into it. I was just happy I was slowly breaking him out of his shell, and I guess I was slowly breaking out of mine. Maybe it was a good thing for the both of us.

After a few minutes had passed, I took the books that seemed to be the most intriguing and headed back to our room, staying as quiet as I could in case anyone nearby was sleeping. Pushing the door open with my back, I moved through the dim room and sat myself down on the couch for a few minutes as I opened up one of the books in my hands to read through the first few chapters. The calming sound of the shower running in the background was nice to fill the silence, coming out more quiet and soothing behind the closed door.

Eventually the words on the pages weren't making much sense and I could feel my eyelids start to grow heavier with each passing second. With that, I closed the book and placed it beside me before turning over to try and finally get some sleep for the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~* THIRD PERSON POV ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So much had just happened in the last few days and Daryl did not know how to process it. It was bad enough after everything that happened to his brother in Atlanta, but throwing a new and charming woman into the group, that alone was enough to make his head spin.

Ever since he saw Rose for the first time, he was immediately intrigued by her. Drawn towards her in a way he couldn't understand. He couldn't deny, she was very beautiful, but that wasn't the thing that seemed to pique his interest initially. It was the way she handled herself, the fact that she was skilled enough to know what to do in this new world, that's what instantly grabbed Daryl's attention. He then, and only then, slowly started to notice her beautiful features, and don't even get him started on when he heard her laugh for the first time.

However, soon after he saw her, he tried to ignore whatever feeling that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach whenever she was around and tried to move on. He told himself that it was stupid to have some feelings for this girl he barely even knows, but there was just something about her that made him more interested. He kept his distance at first because the last thing he needed was someone else to look out for, hell, he couldn't even look out for his own brother. But after seeing her almost get bit by a walker when the camp got attacked, that made something change inside him.

He wanted to protect her. He needed to protect her. Now, he knew that she could take care of herself. Clearly, because she took him down with ease the first time they met. But when she needed help, he wanted to have her back. When she needed someone to talk to, he wanted to be the one to listen. He also couldn't describe the sudden anger he felt when he saw what Ed did to her face. He was lucky that bastard died that night because if Daryl saw him the next day, he would've wished he was dead.

Though slowly but surely Daryl started to talk to her more to say, in his own way, that he would be there for her. He just hoped she knew that.

However, all he could feel right now was utter embarrassment. He didn't realize she was aware of his presence the whole time he was watching her, and now that she knew, she was probably creeped out. Hell, she had every right to be.

He was just walking past the rec room when he saw her standing there glancing at the plethora of books. Her damp curly hair hanging just behind her shoulders, the black long sleeve shirt that hugged her curves in all the right ways. He was just so fascinated by her that he physically couldn't pull his eyes away. He told himself that he should just stop being a wimp, and just go over to start a conversation.

But when he did finally get the courage to step in the room and talk to her, she turned around and looked him dead in the eye. Safe to say he lost all of his confidence right then and there. And the rest of the conversation obviously didn't really go as he planned.

So now there he stood in the shower, overthinking every step and breath he took around her. A million questions were swirling through his head. But the big question was, was she feeling the same way?

Little did he know,

She was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My eyes slowly opened the next morning with my head still slightly hurting, but I slowly pushed through it with a quiet sigh as I got up sleepily to head into the bathroom. The bright light made my eyes sting and my head pound, I almost wished I had sunglasses to wear as if somehow I was hungover. In hindsight, Jenner's warnings about drinking with a head injury were probably not to be taken lightly, clearly I could see that now.

Pushing my eyes to stay open, I brushed my teeth with a clean toothbrush I had found in one of the many drawers lined up in front of me, and changed my clothes into some black jeans and a green long sleeve. Wetting down my frizzy hair, I finally emerged again from the bathroom to see Daryl was still passed out cold on one of the cots a few feet away from me. My head tilted to the side in amusement at he snored softly, his mouth falling open the smallest bit as he dreamed. But then I quickly snapped out of it once I realized how creepy this seemed, leaving the room with hurried steps to see who else was up.

Hearing the somewhat loud chatter echoing down the hall, I followed it all the way until I hit the cafeteria we had eaten in just last night, seeing everyone sitting around the large table again having breakfast. I picked up a plate that was stacked up with the others and moved over towards T-Dog who was cooking some scrambled eggs, greeting him with a smile as he put some on my plate. I then moved over and found a space next to Glenn who had his head down on the table, moving the chair out quietly to sit next to him. Though he shushed harshly me with a raised hand the moment I placed myself next to him, shaking his head a little side to side.

My eyes narrowed at him before glancing up at everyone else in confusion, Lori catching my eye and laughing, "He's a little hungover." she said quietly.

"Huh." I nodded in understanding, glancing back at the man as his head raised up again to look at me, his eyes reddened to no return.

"Don't ever, ever, ever, let me drink again." he pleaded groggily with his hand on top of mine.

I nodded with raised brows as he stared at me expectantly, "Okay, okay, I won't." I promised with a small laugh.

Quiet conversations from the others continued to fill the room as everyone drank their coffee and tried to wake. For some reason being here made us all exhausted even though it was later in the morning, but I guess part of it was because of the amount of alcohol consumed last night.

I quickly managed to finish half my eggs before standing from my seat to get behind Glenn's chair and rub his shoulders to try and help soothe the pain in his head. He raised his head once more to look at me and smiled gratefully before putting it back down on the cool table with a groan.

My mind then only seemed to wander back to last night as I spaced out sleepily, remembering back to the moment where I made Daryl very embarrassed. We hadn't really seen each other since it happened because of how fast I fell asleep last night, but I knew he was surely over it by now considering it wasn't that big of a deal. Though I wondered what was going through his mind as he stood there looking at me for so long. But I caught myself before I let my mind run deeper than I would've liked.

I was pulled from my wandering thoughts when I saw the man himself walk in right on cue as if he could read my mind. He still looked pretty tired, dark circles still under his eyes as he grabbed some coffee from T-Dog before taking a seat slowly right across from Glenn. His eyes met mine almost immediately as he played with the cup of coffee in his hands, watching as I sent him a small smile in a silent greeting. A look of random relief passed through his eyes before he smiled back at me.

Rick then made himself known only seconds behind as he walked in the room groggily, muttering some type of greeting to us as he could barely keep his eyes open. His hands raised to run across head as he plopped down in a seat next to Lori with a deep sigh.

"Are you hungover?" Carl asked, "Mom said you would be." he pointed out without missing a beat.

"Well, mom is right." Rick responded.

Lori only shrugged, "Mom has that annoying habit." she chimed as she offered him a bottle of aspirin.

The group chuckled in amusement at her small comment, but I couldn't help but feel like the whole atmosphere of the room suddenly changed the moment someone else made their presence known. Shane walking in only seemed to put a damper on the mood as everyone coincidentally quieted down at the same time, seeing his hungover state. But to me he also seemed angry, noticing out of the corner of my eye, Lori shift uncomfortably in her seat the second he stepped foot in here. I found myself stopping in my movements the moment I caught sight of the side of his neck. Three giant scratches were prominent on the left side, still red and irritated.

"Why'd you stop?" Glenn suddenly asked in a quiet yet whiney voice.

I looked down and muttered, "Sorry." before continuing to rub his shoulders, trying to ignore whatever feeling was in the air now.

"Hey, what happened to your neck?" Rick asked, catching it just as quick as I did.

Shane looked up from the table and brushed it off with a scoff, "I don't know...must've done it in my sleep."

"That's weird, I've never seen you do that before." Rick replied with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah...it's not like me at all..." Shane said as he made dead eye contact with Lori from across the space.

I watched the whole interaction go down with semi wide eyes and was shocked to see that no one else really picked up on what was happening. Until I looked back over and made eye contact with Daryl, his face growing serious. He shook his head at me, assuring me he saw everything that I did.

But before anyone could comment on the subject, Jenner's voice greeted us next as he made his way into the cafeteria minutes later, grabbing a fresh cup of coffee, not even giving me a chance to process the tension I just witnessed.

Dale then hummed the moment he saw the man, swallowing his food quickly as he opened his mouth to speak, "Doc, I don't mean to question you so early in the morning but-"

"But you will anyway." Jenner finished, raising his eyebrow over his coffee mug.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea said.

The man paused, but nodded in understanding as he told all of us to follow him. And soon enough we were all getting out of our seats and making our way down to another room to hopefully have all of our questions answered.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #desert rose #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader

[wild-lavender-rose]

Perfect Timing

Pairing: Hawkeye Pierce x reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: In a world where soulmates have matching tattoos etched on their wrists, Hawkeye is convinced that he won’t live long enough to find anyone with a tattoo similar to his, let alone matching. However, the day you arrive at the MASH 4077, injured and refusing to accept help, Hawkeye is shocked to discover that your tattoos match. 

Warnings: Description of injuries, blood, gore, war setting, mild language

     “You’re going to be just fine, John. I promise.” You ran your hand through the sweaty locks of a soldier that looked barely enough to hold a gun. “I promise.” 

     “What-whatever you say, d-darlin’.” John tried to smile as if the only thing stopping his insides from spilling out weren’t your hands holding them in place. 

     You looked up at the blur of green and brown and blood as doctors and nurses ran back and forth between the soldiers being unloaded from the bus on stretchers. “Doctor! I need a doctor over here!” 

     “We’re movin’ as fast as we can here.” A tall man dressed in a pink silk dress stopped long enough to acknowledge you. “The docs say that the worst cases go first.” 

     “This is the worst!” 

     “Not by their standards.” 

     Anger flared within you. You’d heard that the 4077th was one of the best units. Clearly it was being populated by a bunch of pansy pediatricians. “Idiots, they’d think a hangnail was the worst case. Get over here!” 

     “But I’ve got to finish unloading the bus.” 

     “Well now you’re a tourniquet.” You nodded down to John’s wounds. “Keep constant pressure on this, even if he screams.” 

     “Oh god,” the man knelt beside her and did as you asked, paling as John gave an anguished moan at the additional pressure. 

     Hands dripping with blood, you stood and made a run for the surgeon’s tent. No one noticed you in the chaos. No one stopped you as you expertly maneuvered your way through the crowd and into the surgeon’s scrub room. 

     There were three men prepping when you shoved the doors open and walked in. “All right, who’s the idiot in charge around here?” 

     The oldest of the three didn’t even bother to stop scrubbing his arms. “Depends. In charge out there or in charge in surgery?” 

     “Whoever has the final say over which patient goes first. I have a man out there who’s insides will become his outsides unless someone can stick him up fast.” 

     “Honestly, I leave you guys for two seconds and you let the riff raff in,” a man with black hair and blue eyes walked in through the door across from you. The door that led into the operating room. He stopped and regarded you over the top of his surgical mask. “You’ve got a complaint, sweetheart?” 

     Your anger bubbled over at the nickname. “I have a man outside that needs help now.” You demanded. “And if you’re too busy in there making bets on which of your patients dies first, then give me a med kit and I’ll do it myself.” 

     “Which kid is it?” The man’s voice had sobered, his expression growing pained. “Is it Lieutenant Smith, the one you were working on when I was out there?” 

     “John.” You didn’t remember seeing him outside, let alone watching you. 

     The man shook his head. “He’s too far gone. I could save four men in the time it would take me to maybe save him.” 

     The truth of his words hit you harder than any bullet, a truth you had been pushing aside the moment you had first found John bleeding out in the trenches. Still you clung on. “No.” You shook your head, throat closing up with the sting of unshed tears. “No! You’ve got to try. He’s got a wife. They just had their first baby.” 

     “Hawkeye, did you see the-” the man in the pink dress burst into the room, stopping beside you. “I guess you found the idiot.” 

     You turned on him. “What are you doing?! You need to be with John!” 

     “There’s no point.” 

     “What do you mean there’s no point!?!” The tears were falling now. Hot, angry tears. You reached up and shoved them away, streaking blood across your face. “I told you to stop the bleeding!” 

     “He’s already dead!” The man yelled back, eyes full of pain. “Houlihan confirmed it. He died a few seconds ago.” 

     It was like you had been hit with an enemy attack all over again. Only instead of the outside in it was from the inside out. 

     The man in the dress gave a nod. “I’m sorry. Truly.” 

     You nodded back. He turned and left. The three other men had finished their scrubbing prep and filed into the operating room. The oldest man, the one who had spoken before, placed a hand on Hawkeye’s shoulder. “You coming?”

     “Yeah, in a second.” Hawkeye was staring at you. 

     You stared back, body feeling numb and unsteady. But his blue eyes grounded you in a way that you had never felt before, a way you never expected to find in the middle of the hell you were living. It was like he knew what you were thinking. That he knew of the nightmares, the dreams, the fears, the experiences. All of it, just by looking. And he hurt for you. More hurt than you thought possible for one man to feel so deeply. 

     “Are you all right?” He asked. 

     “I...I’m sorry.” 

     “Is that all his blood?” Hawkeye’s gaze dropped to your right side and the dark blood stain seeping through your green shirt. 

     “Yeah.” You lied, taking an uncertain step back. “I’ll...I’ll leave you to it. I’m sorry.” 

     You turned and left the room before he had a chance to say anything more, leaving him to stare after you.

Part 2

Fanfic Masterlist

Taglist Request Form

Taglist: @gameplaying-bunny @wool-hat7 @cirillamylove​ 

#hawkeye #hawkeye pierce #mash hawkeye #hawkeye mash #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x y/n #hawkeye pierce x reader #mash hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x you #mash #mash fanfiction #mash show #mash series #mash fandom #mash fanfic #mash fic

[fanfics4all]

Banished

Request: Yes / No  roan x reader (smut preferably) where you get banished from skaikru about a month in after landing on earth and you meet roan. since he’s wounded and you’re a healer you patch him up and end up travelling together and become rlly close?? idk i read your trick or treat fic and it was my favourite roan fic i’ve read (and i’ve read them all...no shame)😭 @szhead31​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Roan x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1735

Warnings: SMUT!

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

Subscribe to my OF! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“What do you mean I’m kicked out?” I asked Clarke and Bellamy. 

“Y/N, you’ve been a danger to the camp.” Bellamy said with his arms crossed. 

“A danger? I’m a damn healer!” I shouted. 

“And half of the people in our infirmary are because of you!” He shouted back at me. 

“Enough!” Clarke shouted, stopping anything before it started. 

“Y/N, Bellamy’s right. You’ve been fighting everyone in camp and with the Grounders wanting to kill us, we need to think of the bigger picture.” She said and I scoffed. 

“Ya know what? I don’t even care anymore. Screw all of you and I hope the Grounders kick your ass!” I shouted and stormed out of the dropship. I went to my tent and grabbed my shit then left without another word. Those assholes can kiss my damn ass. 

*One Month Later*

I was out hunting in the snow. I don’t entirely remember how I got here, but I was alive so that’s all that matters. I had the perfect angle on the deer I was hunting when all of a sudden a scream scared it away. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned. I decided that I should run and see who was screaming. Maybe someone from camp got lost and I could fix them up, it was the damn doctor in me… If I heal them maybe they’ll see I’m not as bad as everyone says I am! I pushed myself to run faster and found a man leaning against a tree with a serious wound in his stomach. I’m honestly surprised his guts weren’t falling out. I kneeled down by his side and quickly pulled out my supplies. 

“Who are you?” He asked with a groan. 

“I’m here to help, who are you? What happened?” I asked as I started to work on his stomach. 

“I am Roan, Prince of Azgeda.” He answered then hissed in pain. 

“Don’t move, I need to disinfect it before I stitch you up. Here, bite on this.” I said and pushed a cloth into his mouth. He bit down on it and continued my work. It took about a half hour to patch him up enough to get him somewhere safe. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked as we were walking through the forest. 

“My Father was a doctor, he taught me everything I know.” I answered with a small smile. 

“Your Father taught you well.” He said, returning my smile. 

“Up ahead, there’s a small cabin I found, I’ve been staying there.” I said and pointed at the building ahead. He nodded and the two of us quickly but carefully made our way into the cabin. I laid him on the bed and checked his wound again. 

“If you’re a Prince, what are you doing out here alone? Shouldn’t you have guards with you?” I asked. 

“I was banished so my people could join with the Commander.” He said sadly. 

“Your parents banished you?” I asked shocked and he nodded sadly. 

“Why are you out here on your own?” He asked and I bit my lip. 

“Same reason you are. I was banished because my people thought I was more dangerous than the Grounders.” I answered and his eyes widened slightly. 

“Why?” He asked. 

“I was a healer to my people, there weren’t many, but the two people that basically put themselves in charge kicked me out because I kept fighting people. Those people talked a lot of shit about me and I was just making sure they knew not to mess with me, turns out that putting your own people in the infirmary while at ‘war’ isn’t a great idea.” I half laughed. 

“How long have you been out here?” He asked. 

“About a month, maybe a little more.” I shrugged. 

“You’re strong.” He smiled and his eyes slowly started to close. 

“Get some rest, I’ll check on you in the morning.” I said and walked off to make myself food. 

*Another Month Later* 

Roan had healed well. He was strong and wanted to get better. He was actually a very good patient and did everything I asked of him. The two of us got to know each other while he was healing and he was amazing. At first he was pretty reserved and hesitant to let me into his life, but eventually he opened up to me. He was sweet with a very strong sense of loyalty. When he was finally better I thought he would just leave, which broke my heart at the thought, but he stayed. He explained to me how he was a bounty hunter and asked me to join him on his adventures. I had agreed, but we always ended up coming back to the cabin we now claimed as ours. The two of us knew we had developed feelings for one another, but we never fully confessed. Sure we acted like a couple, but it was never solidified. That was until we got snowed in our cabin with no way of leaving. 

“I suppose it’s good that we got extra food yesterday when we were out.” I said and Roan smiled. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He said and joined me in the bed. Roan pulled me towards him and I rested my head on his chest. We sat in silence, revelling in the warmth that our bodies gave to each other. After a few minutes Roan pulled my face up to look at him and he did something unexpected. He held my chin with two of his fingers and gently kissed me. I was breathless when he broke away, his eyes shining as he admired me. 

“What was that for?” I whispered. 

“I just finally got the courage to confess how I feel.” He said and I smiled with a slight blush dusting my cheeks. 

“I feel the same way.” I said and kissed him again. The kiss started off as sweet and loving, but it quickly turned hotter. The two of us were feeling each other’s bodies and enjoying the feelings. When Roan dipped into my pants I pulled away. 

“Wait, I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” I said, blushing deeply and looked away. Roan grabbed my face and made me look at him. 

“Let me teach you. We’ll be nice and warm after.” He said with a small smirk. There was something about Roan that made me trust him with all of my heart. 

“Okay…” I whispered. Roan pulled my shirt off and then my pants were quick to follow. My arms immediately went to cover my chest. 

“What about you?” I asked. He smirked and rid himself of his clothing, naked. Roan gently pried my arms from my chest and smiled. 

“Beautiful.” He hummed and kissed me, making my cheeks turn pink. 

“No need to be shy, Y/N.” He promised. He gently pushed me to lay on the bed and his lips went to my chest. 

“Roan…” I breathed, lacing my fingers into his brown hair. He pulled my underwear from me and looked up at me for consent. I gave him a small nod and he moved to my entrance. The sensation was overwhelming as his cock entered my pussy for the very first time. Delightful flashes of tingles coursed through my body. It felt amazing, until he broke through the one thing that indicated I was indeed a virgin. I grunted at the sharp burst of pain in my pussy. He held still, deep within me. 

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He whispered in my ear. My breathing was fast and shallow as I felt my walls absorbing his shaft. The sharp pain dulled to an ache, but was slowly overcome by a heavenly feeling of fullness. The tingles from him pressing against my clit increasing as his body moved subtly with each of his deep breaths. 

“It’s okay… I’m fine.” I finally whispered. Roan’s hips pulled back slowly, his gaze still concentrated on my face, probably looking for any signs of pain. He stopped with the head of his cock placed just in the entrance on my pussy. He teased me for only a moment, making me moan and grip the sheets. 

“Please don’t tease.” I begged. 

“Sorry love.” He said and pushed back inside me. One of his hands found my clit and I arched my back as he played with it. My muscles eased, allowing the pain to dissipate. Roan’s thrusts began to build pressure in my stomach and stars in my eyes. The soft pleasure washed over me with ease. My breaths were coming out in shallow stutters as I tried to hold back my orgasm. I was throbbing around Roan and he could feel every second of my building pleasure. 

“Roan, fuck!” I choked out as I withered on the bed. 

“Harder, harder please!” I begged, squeezing my eyes shut. Roan leaned down, capturing my lips in a messy but loving kiss as he did what I wanted. The ache in my every muscle released all at once. A shudder ran through my body as my orgasm took over me. 

“You look so beautiful when you cum like that.” Roan praised, and it only made it better. Roan pulled my legs over his shoulders and hit a deeper spot inside me. 

“Oh my God!” I shrieked. My back arched off the bed as Roan slid into me with the deep, angled thrusts. My moans were loud, escaping my lips with every other thrust he made. His hips rolled against mine with his hand still trying to pull another orgasm from me. I gripped the sheets tighter as I jolted upward from his powerful force. 

“Oh fuck! Roan!” I screamed, pleasure bursting through my veins. I was cumming for a second time tonight.

“Oh Y/N!” He moaned as he came inside me. I whined when he pulled out of me. He gave a small chuckle and pulled me into him under the blanket. 

“Warmer?” He asked and I nodded. 

“That was amazing.” I sighed happily. 

“We can do that as often as you want.” He smiled and I captured his lips in a kiss. 

“I think I want to do that all the time.” I said and he laughed. 

“Whatever you want, my Princess.” He said and I smiled. This was what earth was all about. This was my new start.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches28​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @emo-godess-loves-you​ @now-imagine​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru​

#The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 smut #king roan #roan the 100 #roan x reader #roan x fem!reader #fanfic #request #roan smut #king roan x reader #king roan x fem!reader #king roan smut #Smut

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

#fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #Marvel x Y/N #x men #x men fanfiction #Logan #logan x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #reader insert

[punkassbookjockey26]

Story Time - Rowaelin Month, Day 4

Some fluff for ya on Day 4! 

Ratings: None, Warnings: None

Prompt: Libraries/Librarian

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

Wednesdays at Orynth Public Library were Aelin’s favorite day of the week.

She finished setting up for her first Story Time class of the day, pushing back the hair that had fallen in her face, and surveyed her area. The room itself was bright and colorful, a wide array of posters for numbers and letters adorned the walls. Large, vibrant orbs hung from the ceiling with matching labels with the color names in both Common and the Old Language. She laid her books on the table at the front, a small felt easel to the side, and a stuffed cat out of view. All she needed was the children.

No sooner than she had thought it, the door opened and several of her regular kids toddled in, all happy smiles and giggles as they raced up to her to give her big hugs around her legs. Her face brightened significantly, kneeling in front of them to listen as they chattered on about everything and nothing at the same time. Her heart filled to burst with the love she had for these tiny, adorable babies.

They were hers, even if not by blood, but by experience. Aelin hadn’t been so lucky to have any kids of her own, so every Wednesday, she pretended that she had a whole class of them.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get seated. We’ll start class in just a minute.” Her smile was wide as many of the kids ran back to their parents, their laughter filling the small room with such joy. Story Time was the reason why Wednesday was Aelin’s favorite day. Sure, she loved her after-school kids that stopped by for arts and crafts or the book club she started, but there was something so utterly heart-warming and magical about seeing a class full of toddlers engage in a love for reading.

The door at the back of the class creaked open, and Aelin turned her head towards the newcomer. A small head of wild brown curls peeked in with wide, tentative green eyes meeting hers. The head disappeared as quickly, the door sliding shut. Aelin smiled to herself. It wasn’t the first time a shy child had come to Story Time, and it wouldn’t be the last. She just waited patiently for the entrance to open once more.

Sure enough, within a few seconds, the door opened again; this time, that same head of curls was clinging desperately to a towering man, her tiny arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Aelin paused for a second, her grin falling just slightly as she took in the sight before her.

The man was gorgeous. He had to be several inches taller than her, a feat seeing as she was pushing six feet herself. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that clung snugly to his torso, with jeans that had probably seen better days, and his silvery blonde hair was disheveled as if he had spent the better part of the morning running his hands through it. A tattoo snaked down his muscled arm, covering the tan skin in dark words that Aelin couldn’t make out.

But her frown deepened when she noticed how absolutely lost he looked, staring at the class filled with moms and rambunctious toddlers. It wasn’t often that Aelin had a man in one of her classes, and even then, it usually was with a partner. This man had arrived alone, except for the tiny toddler hanging from him with a vice-like grip, burying her face in his neck. The little girl turned her head to look at Aelin, her eyes peeking out through the mess of curls. Aelin smiled at her, waving slightly, and she quickly buried her face back into her companion’s neck with a slight whimper. The man sighed, clutching her a bit tighter to him.

Aelin felt her heart squeeze. It had been a long time since she had a child this shy in her class. She strived to make Story Time a safe and engaging place for children, but it wasn’t easy when those children were adamantly against being in the room. Even now, as the man tried to sit on the floor, Aelin could hear the girl’s cries at being separated from him. Hushed tones followed when he tried to disentangle himself from her grip, but she clung on even tighter, refusing to sit in his lap. Aelin watched him wrap his arms around the girl, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her. It was heartbreaking to see, even worse that she wasn’t sure how to help.

That lost look returned to his face, even as he consoled the tiny child in his arms, and Aelin felt the urge to go back and help him. However, a quick glance at the clock told her that class was about to start, and as much as she wanted to reach out, it would have to wait. She needed to do her job first.

She just hoped that both of them would be able to survive the next half hour.

----

“Alright, class, now that we’re awake and we’ve gotten our wiggles out-” a chorus of silly giggles rang out, making her pause to smile, “-who’s ready for a story?” Aelin received celebratory cheers in response as she turned back to her table. She picked up the book she set out and turned back to the class.

“Today, we’re going to read about a little crab who learns to face his fears when he leaves home for the first time. Can you show me what being scared looks like?”

Not surprisingly, the children contorted their faces into wide-eyed, shock-filled visages that had Aelin biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. A few of the kids were even adding whimpers or false cries to add to the effect. “Good job, everyone. Those are some scared-looking faces I see!”

Aelin smiled warmly, her eyes darting over the group of kids before her. It had been a good class so far. No one had any outbursts, and they were listening well, which was a challenge for her toddlers most of the time. But every so often, Aelin would find her eyes drifting towards the back of the room, landing on her two newest attendees. The girl had finally released the stranglehold she had on the man’s neck and faced towards the front, her bright green eyes tentative yet inquisitive.

Aelin counted it as a win. It could have gone either way, based on how the child reacted when she arrived. However, Aelin prided herself on her ability to engage children in ways that eluded most parents, and she was grateful to see that she still was able to reach even the most unwilling of children.

Opening the book, Aelin began to read to the class, her voice rising and falling as she told the story of the little crab facing the big world outside his home for the first time. She hadn’t realized how perfect the book would be for that girl when she selected it, but she couldn’t help but be grateful for the serendipity. While most of the message would be lost on her under-five crowd, Aelin hoped that it might put her tiny friend at ease.

Even still, it surprised her when she felt a sharp tug at her jeans about halfway through the reading, and she looked down to see a wild head of chocolate curls and those curious green eyes focused on her. 

It wasn’t unusual for children to get close to her during Story Time. They wanted to touch the books or the puppets she used or climb on her to monopolize the attention that she doled out willingly. But Aelin would not have bet on that little girl leaving the comfort of her companion’s arms to come to the front of the room. But she had a job to do, and as much as she wanted to turn her attention solely on the brave little girl, she had to finish the story.

“Alright, sweetheart, can you go sit back down?” Aelin asked, rubbing the girl’s back affectionately. She turned back to the story to continue but paused again when she felt another tug on her clothes, followed by a tiny whimper.

The child reached her hands up to the air, wordlessly asking Aelin to lift her up and into her lap. Aelin looked towards the back of the room and caught the eye of her guardian. He looked utterly shocked at his daughter’s position and moved to get up off the floor. Aelin just shook her head slightly and reached down to pick her up.

“Okay, you can sit with me for now.” The little girl burrowed herself into Aelin’s lap, her tiny fists wrapping into her cardigan and her small head leaning against Aelin’s shoulder. Aelin went about reading the story to the rest of the group, completely at ease with the small girl in her arms. It was unusual, mostly because she didn’t typically allow children to sit with her during Story Time. It was vital for them to learn how to follow instructions, and that included sitting quietly on the floor. But, there was something about this child, and the man she was with that had Aelin bending all kinds of rules.

The girl clung to her for the rest of class. When they sat, she crawled right back in Aelin’s lap. When they stood, she insisted on holding Aelin’s hand. Even when they moved, she refused to interact with the other children, staying as close to Aelin as possible. Aelin should have told her to sit back with her guardian or at least sit with the other kids on the floor, but there was something timid in the girl’s expression that made her pause. And she wasn’t going to begrudge this child a good first-time experience simply because she wanted to enforce some arbitrary rules.

At the end of class, Aelin scooped the girl up in her arms, holding her tightly even as she said goodbye to the other kids and parents. When only a few stragglers were left in the room, Aelin walked towards the man in the back.

“I believe this one belongs to you,” Aelin said, untangling herself from the toddler and handing her back to the man. He still looked a bit shaken at how calmly his daughter reacted to being held by a stranger, but he quickly brushed the look away and replaced it with a shy smile, his free hand raking through his silvery hair.

“Yeah…I’m sorry about that. She’s not usually this clingy.”

“No worries,” Aelin said, smiling. “I’m used to it. Is she your daughter?”

“Yeah, she is,” the man said, fondly, smiling at his daughter, who had curled her arms around his neck. “This is my Millie.”

“She’s beautiful,” Aelin cooed, poking the toddler’s belly to evoke a toothy grin “I haven’t seen you around before. Is it your first time here?”

“Yeah. We just moved here, and I figured she could use some socializing with kids her age,” the man said, nodding. He set Millie on the ground, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his leg, pulling herself as close to him as possible.

“No better place than the library, in my opinion,” Aelin chuckled. “I do these Story Time classes a few times a week, so feel free to drop in anytime.”

“Thank you for that. She seemed to have a good time today, so we’ll definitely be back.” He smiled at her, and for the first time since he arrived, Aelin had a moment to appreciate his handsomeness.  Up close, she could tell that his tattoo was written in the Old Language, although she didn’t know enough of it to make it out. He had the same green eyes that his daughter had, a deep pine that reminded her of the trees in Oakwald. And when he smiled, she felt a strange flutter in her chest.

Aelin snapped from her perusal of him when he reached down to grab ahold of Millie’s hand, and she took it reluctantly, her tiny head swiveling to look up at Aelin. “Alright, Mills, say bye-bye.”

At that, Millie launched herself towards Aelin’s legs with a big “No!” Aelin stumbled from the force of the collision and looked down to find a wide pair of tearful green eyes staring back up at her.

“Well, she certainly likes you,” her father said with a laugh.

Aelin smiled at him, her hand absent-mindedly running through Millie’s curls. “It’s what I do best.”

He reached down to scoop Millie back up into his arms, her tiny hands reaching out for Aelin. The librarian ached to reach for her and console her, but she relented. Millie whined a bit as her father walked her toward the door, her little head popping over his shoulder to look at Aelin before she left. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Aelin promised the little girl, offering a sweet wave with an even sweeter smile. Remembering her manners, Aelin called again just before they walked out of her classroom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name!”

The man turned and looked at her, offering a wide grin that Aelin swore made her heart skip a beat. “It’s Rowan.” Aelin tried not to pick favorites, but she just might have a new one.

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

Tag List:

@faerie-queen-fireheart

@1islessthan3books

@superspiritfestival

@jesstargaryenqueen

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@morganofthewildfire

@chieflemming

@swankii-art-teacher

@rowaelinismyotp

@mariamuses

@booknerdproblems

@story-scribbler

@highqueenofelfhame

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan and aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #library fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #pabj26writing

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement

[magniloquent-raven]

soulmate au part 3!!!!

(read part 1 and part 2 here)

it takes three weeks for anything to happen.

they see each other at school, exchange glances in class, brush past each other in the hallways, fingers grazing as their shoulders bump, incidental touches that wouldn’t draw attention but still leave billy tingling and giddy and embarrassed at himself but…

he’s still getting used to having a soulmate. a real, tangible person he can reach out and touch.

and maybe he’d get used to it faster if he could touch him more, but life keeps conspiring against them. they can’t seem to get a second alone. when it isn’t steve’s kids are crawling all over him 24/7 it’s neil breathing down billy’s neck because he ran out on one fucking class.

well, and then had to lie to neil about why, which was probably what put neil on high alert, but still.

three goddamn weeks.

and neither of them have been patient about it. steve keeps writing billy notes. in the middle of class scrawling things like you have nice eyes and i wanna spend time with you and billy can fucking feel how smug steve gets about making him blush. it’s all he can do not to make a scene in front of half their peers. sometimes he’s not sure if he’d punch steve for being an asshole or kiss him for being sweet.

or both. he can do both.

but mostly he wants time, and somewhere to just...be. with steve.

and he gets that, three weeks after their conversation in the parking lot. steve’s parents will be out of town, and his kids have some stupid game night planned. max keeps asking to go but pretending she isn’t, badly feigning disinterest, and best of all, neil and susan are planning a weekend trip to visit susan’s bedridden aunt a few hours away.

billy is determined to take full advantage of those thirty-six hours. neither of them will acknowledge it directly, but he knows max will tell neil he was home all weekend if she has to. he has no reason to be nervous about being caught, or anything else. it’ll be fine.

it’ll be fine.

he tells himself that over and over but it doesn’t stop him from checking every corner of the house in case neil’s hiding behind a door somewhere before he can even think about getting ready to leave.

he checks again after he’s showered and dressed.

thankfully max is already gone, so she’s not there to see him pacing around like a neurotic rat in a maze.

it almost worse that he isn’t just anxious, he’s excited. and it’s making him twitchy.

there’s no plan. they aren’t going on a date or anything. he’s just...going to steve’s house. steve’s empty house. he’s going to be alone with his soulmate. the list of reasons why that scares him is endless.

and he’s not sure if he’s more terrified of the possibility that steve won’t ask about the makeup thing or the possibility that he will.

knocking on the harringtons’ front door is. an experience. it shouldn’t be. it’s just a fucking door. but billy’s palms are sweating and suddenly he has no idea what he’s even going to say, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder even though he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, and it feels like he’s been standing on the porch for a fucking eternity but—

his worries don’t exactly melt away when steve opens the door but there is a warm flutter in his chest that’s...new. and distracting.

and steve smiles at him all sunshine and chocolate, and the second the door closes behind them he grabs billy’s hand, wide-eyed, questioning, watching billy’s reaction.

his palm is just as sweaty as billy’s and it’s gross, but also kind of comforting.

“hello to you too,” billy snickers, and steve visibly relaxes, lacing their fingers together properly.

“hi,” he breathes quietly, his gaze soft, but intense, focused. “waiting sucked, okay. i’ve been wanting to do that forever.” he shakes their joined hands for emphasis.

“...that all you were waiting to do?”

steve’s grin turns sly, and his gaze drops a little. “no.”

billy wants to kiss him. he wants to be kissed. he wants steve’s mouth on him, somewhere, anywhere, right now. it’s a nice mouth. he’s spent a lot of time looking at it, and thinking about it, about the way the steam from the showers turned his lips so, so red, wet and slick and both too close and too far away, wondering what he’d taste like—

but steve turns away, taking all the air in billy’s lungs with him. it’s so jarring a shift that billy actually sways a little before he gets ahold of himself and lets steve tug him by hand and lead him upstairs.

the wallpaper in steve’s room has to be some kind of hate crime, but billy doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because there’s a beige bag sitting conspicuously on top of steve’s neatly made bed. the clear plastic top is zipped shut, dusty with age and spilled powders, but billy can still make out tubes of lipstick and eyeliner pencils through the haze.

he stops in the doorway and stares at it, thoughts at a stand-still.

steve’s still clutching his hand, tighter now, and no longer pulling him along. “i—uh. the bag was my mom’s, i think. found it crumpled up under the sink, so, like. she probably doesn’t even remember it exists. and the stuff in it is...new.”

“...new,” billy echoes faintly.

“yeah. yeah, i—i bought it. had no idea what i was looking for though, so i hope i did alright.”

billy blinks at him.

“was—was that okay? i know maybe isn’t exactly a yes, but i kinda hoped it could be, y’know? it’s—it’s totally cool if it isn’t. if you’re—if you’re not up for it. or…” he trails off awkwardly and grimaces.

billy takes a breath. “i’m up for it,” he assures steve with more confidence than he feels.

and steve absolutely beams at him. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

turns out steve not knowing what he was looking for meant he bought...everything.

as billy pokes through the mess he tries not to feel too apprehensive. or at least tries not to let it show. too much. he chews his thumbnail, picking up an eyeliner pencil with the other hand. it’s good shit, all the products are, with fancy names for colours and designer labels. it’s all leagues better than the drugstore clearance shelf crap he lifted as a kid. which doesn’t make this any less nerve-wracking.

“it’s been a while since i did this, so. don’t expect it to be, fucking, art or anything.”

steve shuffles closer from his spot at the foot of the bed and touches billy’s knee. “the eyeliner earlier this year…?” he gestures vaguely at his own face, eyebrows raised.

“friend of mine did that,” billy mutters.

and then his whole goddamn life came crashing down around him because of it.

his anxiety spikes, and he drops the pencil back into the pile, shoving the bag away. “i can’t fucking do this,” he snaps, and he’s halfway standing already when steve reaches for him, alarmed.

“billy, wait—” the hand on his elbow is soft, gentle, but he still flinches away. steve withdraws, fingers curled, lips parted, shock and hurt at war on his face. “i’m sorry. i—shit, i’m sorry—”

“don’t.” billy shakes his head, pulling away further. his lungs hurt. there isn’t enough air in this room. “just—forget it. this was a mistake.”

he’s through the door and heading down the stairs before he can think about it, before steve can respond. he wouldn’t have heard him anyways, not over the echoes of his father’s voice that follow him no matter how fast he flees.

but he stops just short of leaving. stands on the ugly little mat by the front door and stares down at it, his forehead inches away from resting against the wooden doorjamb.

he doesn’t want to leave.

he doesn’t want to go anywhere but back upstairs.

and...he kind of hates it. he has no reason to want that. he barely fucking knows steve, and he certainly doesn’t owe him anything. not a look at his authentic self or even a fucking apology. nothing.

so why does he want to give him all of that and more.

why.

it’s fucking terrifying and ridiculous and confusing and…

“billy?” steve calls out tentatively, far enough away that billy doesn’t startle. he’s making his way down the stairs.

if he’s gonna run, it’s now or never.

now…

or…

he turns around, and leans back, his shoulder thudding heavily as he hits the wall. his eyes itch, and rubbing them doesn’t help.

“billy…” steve’s right in front of him now, hovering just shy of being close, worry etched into every line of his face. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have pushed, i’m sorry—”

“not your fault,” billy mumbles, muffled against his palm. “stop apologizing, harrington.”

steve sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “i...uh.”

“you were gonna do it again weren’t you.”

“...no.”

billy snorts quietly, head falling against the cold wallpaper at his back. “fuck,” he exhales, hand dropping to his shoulder. “look, this is...threatening to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and good things don’t just—it never lasts. it always blows up in my face, and you should know that before you get caught up in it too.”

there’s an awful, drawn-out pause while steve purses his lips and tilts his head and looks billy up and down, his gaze gentle despite the scrutiny.

“i want to touch you,” steve says quietly. he waits for billy’s hesitant nod before he wraps his arms around and tucks his face into the crook of billy’s neck. “i’ve been waiting for you my whole life, hargrove, you’re not scaring me off that easily.”

and...billy always wanted to believe in the romantic notions people wrote about in songs. soulmates being destined for each other. epic, unconditional love. he never had any reason to believe it was real, but he clung to it anyway. despite the part of him that was wary, afraid of putting too much stock in something that might break his heart later on.

so for steve to just outright say it like that…so matter of fact. the reality of the situation smacks him in the face a little.

he puts his hands on steve’s waist, slipping under his shirt to rest against soft bare skin. touching him feels...right. when he lets himself feel, lets himself be here, in the moment. the sweet scent of steve’s hair, the warmth of his breath, the soothing pressure of his fingertips smoothing the wrinkled fabric of billy’s shirt. it all adds up to a feelings that billy can only describe as home.

not home like the place, but home like the warmth of sunlight and sand between his toes, ocean spray on his lips. a feeling he’s always had to chase to capture, but somehow it’s...here. quiet and still, and nothing like he’s used to, but it’s here.

and his touch seems to put steve at ease as well, he practically melts into billy’s embrace, which does strange and addictive things to billy’s heart.

but he can’t just shut his fucking mouth and enjoy the moment.

“bet i could, though. scare you off. i might, some day.”

“billy,” steve sighs, and pulls back enough to look him in the eye. “trust me when i say, you’ll never even make the top ten scariest things i’ve seen.”

and he wants to scoff, or feel insulted, or push the issue, start a fight, but. there’s a hollow look in steve’s eye. it’s not the face of some sheltered rich boy who thinks he’s a big man, no, there’s truth there. billy believes him.

stopping the tide of questions is almost physically painful, but he knows there’s no going down that road today. he’s hiding enough of his own skeletons to be sure they aren’t ready for that yet.

he might just be ready for something else though.

“i wanna try again.”

steve blinks at him, confused for a beat, two, and. “oh!” his lips part around the exclamation, distracting billy for a moment. “the—the makeup? you don’t— you don’t have to.”

“i want to.” he hesitates, and then presses a brief kiss to the tip of steve’s nose, startling a smile out of him. billy grins back. “i want to.”

#harringrove ficlet #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #a raven's writing desk #soulmate au #yall this au is getting out of control this fic was supposed to be one lil scene #and i didn't even do the thing i wanted to do because billy was like NO IMA DO THIS INSTEAD #so then this whole ficlet got derailed because he's a drama queen #so #there's gonna be more dlkjfkltgfd #cuz im GONNA do the idea i had #im gonna

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Ju Haknyeon - Teach Me [Requested]

Request: Reader is experienced/bad girl and Haknyeon is innocent and wants to learn about sex. They meet at bible study.

virgin! Haknyeon x mean girl! reader

Warnings: corruption kink, losing virginity, underage sex, unprotected sex, mild humiliation, slight dubcon

Thanks for the request love, I hope you enjoy!💕 Also goes without saying, don't manipulate/coerce someone into doing sexual things if they're not ready or comfortable yet okay? The bad girl reader trope was requested 😅

Haknyeon is willing to learn, and who would make a better teacher than his crush, you?

You blink blearily, barely registering the pastor's teachings, and subtly stifle a yawn. You look around the room to find some sort of distraction and a certain boy catches your eye. Haknyeon is furiously scribbling in his notes, listening intently to the pastor. You scoff slightly at how earnest he looks, catching his attention. He glances over to you, meeting your eye and flushes pink as he shoots you a shy smile, before going back to scribble in his notebook. How cute.

Finally, the pastor dismisses your class, and you're the first one out the door. A patter of footsteps sounds behind you and Haknyeon appears, slightly out of breath. "Hey!" he beams, still rather pink in his cheeks. You nod curtly at him and continue walking. "Mind if I walk you home?" he chirps, still ever so cheerful despite your disinterest. You give a non-committal shrug, and he takes that as a yes, falling into step with you, babbling about everything, from what happened during class, to what he's going to have for lunch. You're barely listening, but you're watching him. Everyone at Sunday school (and your high school friends) knew he had a massive crush on you since middle school, but he was never very subtle about it to begin with.

High cheekbones, golden skin, sparkly clear eyes and full pink lips. He wasn't really your type, far too naive and innocent, but you suppose he was rather cute. Your eyes travel downwards, and nearly bulge out of their sockets. The dorky boy you knew as a pre-teen was barely recognizable. Instead, he'd grown much taller, shoulders broad and fuck, thick thighs and perky ass flaunted in his tight blue jeans. His white button-up was clinging to his broad frame, his strong biceps peeking through the translucent sleeves. You feel your heart skip a beat as you take it all in, wondering when exactly he changed and why you hadn't noticed it sooner.

"We're here! I hope you have a great day, I'll see you tomorrow at school?" Haknyeon grins, and you snap out of your shameless staring. You finally decide to humor him, and give him one of your most dazzling smiles. You brush your hand against his arm, and Haknyeon shivers, breath hitching as your fingertips graze against his skin, blushing an even deeper red. You thank him for walking you home, and shut the front door with a final wink, leaving Haknyeon speechless on your doorstep. You spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about how attractive he suddenly seems to you, hand slipping under your waistband, fingering yourself as your imagination went wild, picturing yourself underneath him and more. You hadn't gotten laid in a while, and now you've decided on your target; the cutie from Sunday School.

The next day at school you decide to mess with him a little. You linger at his desk to make small talk, his usual chatty and confident demeanor suddenly faltering now that you're giving him your full attention, keeping eye contact throughout the whole conversation. You continue this through the week, getting bolder each time. You'd plop into the seat next to him at lunch, you'd lean just a little too close to him when you talk, you'd walk home together, hands accidentally brushing against each other's. You enjoyed the way he gets all nervous and riled up just for you, sparking a new interest in the boy. All the boys you've been with before have been the popular jock type, typically dominant in bed. Haknyeon seemed like a nice change, the goofy but good-natured kid that everyone liked; meek, submissive and eager to please, just for you. You can't wait to play with him.

Friday afternoon finally rolls around and your grand plan is about to fall into place. Your friends shake their head wearily when you told them what you were going to do, but they're used to it by now. You catch him after school, which was easy considering he was waiting patiently for you, like a little puppy outside your classroom. You hook your arm around his and head home together like you have all week, and yet another round of pink dusts his cheeks when you touch him. You're almost home when you exclaim "Ah! I forgot to ask if I could borrow your notes for bible study! I wasn't paying attention at all last week, and I don't wanna get in trouble the next lesson," pouting cutely.

Haknyeon lights up, enthusiastically offering to let you copy his notes. "You can have mine! But they're at home, do you wanna come over?" He gushes, pausing when he realizes what he said. "O-or I could, uhh, send you the pictures of my notes tonight?" He stammers, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. You beam at him, like he's your hero, clutching his arm. "I'd love to come over, Haki! Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver," you croon, secretly enjoying the way Haknyeon turns crimson at the new nickname and skinship. You detour to his house and he leads you up to his bedroom, the empty house rather quiet except for the idle chat from the two of you.

He stands awkwardly as you enter his room, movie posters lining the walls and his books neatly arranged. "Would you like a soda? Cookies maybe? Make yourself at home, sit wherever you like! I'll go get my notebook," he rambles. You plop onto the edge of his bed, making yourself comfortable, patting the space next to you. "No need for that, Haki, thank you," you smile sweetly at him. He nods and starts looking around for his bible study notes, finally picking up the cute orange spiral notebook he always carries to bible study classes. He turns around, triumphantly holding the book, and promptly drops it when he sees what you're doing.

"W-what are you doing?" He whispers, his voice failing him as he gawks at you unbuttoning your blouse, exposing your lacy black bra. "Nothing, sweetie, why don't you come over here. Leave the book," you smile at him, beckoning him over with a crooked finger. Haknyeon walks over to you in a trance, his eyes never leaving your chest. He sits next to you as you take your blouse off and chuck it on the floor, pushing your chest out for him to take a good long look. You're gorgeous and you know it, and Haknyeon definitely thinks so. He gulps audibly and seems to snap out of it for a second. "Are you warm? I-i'll go turn on the AC!" he tries to get up but you pull him back down and into a fiery kiss.

He lets out a surprised squeak that quickly turns into a moan, eyss fluttering shut as you move your lips passionately against his, tongue licking into his parted lips. His hands are balled into clammy fists, not knowing where to put them. Blood is thundering through his veins; he can't believe his first kiss is with someone he'd been in love with for so long. His eyes remain shut as you pull away, wiping the spit from your lips, appreciating the dreamy look on his face. If he gets this much pleasure from a mere kiss, then you can't wait to see what happens later.

You caress his thighs with your hand, and he opens his eyes. Your fingertips dance across the muscles in his leg, hovering dangerously close to the tent in his pants. Haknyeon gasps, understanding what you're about to do, clutching your hand before it could wander any further. "N-no, we shouldn't be doing this..." he trails off in a terrified whisper. You turn cold immediately, feigning disappointment, and Haknyeon feels stabs of guilt when he shouldn't. "You don't like me anymore, Haki?" you pout, trying your best to sound hurt. His eyes turn round as saucers and he holds your hands close to his heart, his heartbeat thrumming beneath your touch. "No no! I still really like you, it's just... we're not supposed to do this until we get married right?" The sincerity in his voice and actions almost makes you give up the act and leave the boy alone. Almost.

You carress his cheek and give him your best puppy eyes. "But we're going to get married one day, so it shouldn't matter anyway, right?" you bat your eyelashes at him, watching his eyes light up at the mention of marriage. You almost scoff at his naivety but you have to keep up the act. His sweet innocence is making you wetter by the minute and you'll be damned if you screw up the opportunity to play with your new toy. "Please, Haki? I really like you..." your trembling lips and puppy eyes have him crumbling, his resolve and devotion to his Lord ebbing away in the face of temptation that is you, the girl of his dreams.

Haknyeon gulps and after a painstakingly long pause, he nods slowly. "Okay... but, do you know how?" Puzzled, you tilt your head. "How..?"

"I've never done this before," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. "Silly boy, I'll teach you everything you want to know." He gasps when you dig the heel of your palm into his bulge. "Aah, it feels weird. Good, but weird." he whispers, shutting his eyes. "Never touched yourself before, baby?"

"N-no..."

"Really? Never jerked off thinking about me at night?" you tease, now slowly rubbing his growing bulge through his pants, causing him to tremble. He shakes his head shyly, soft moans falling from his lips. You unzip his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring free and your mouth waters at the sight. Thick, veiny, decently long and twitching with precum. "Fuck, baby look at you. Such a pretty cock. Am I the first girl to see it?" you trail a finger up his shaft and he bucks his hips, already too sensitive. He nods furiously and you giggle, finally grasping the base of his cock. "What an honor."

You slowly drag your fist up and down his shaft, and he lets out a lewd moan, throwing his head back. You kiss his neck and decide to grab his hand, making him close it into a fist around his length. You wrap your hand around his and guide it up and down just as you've been doing. "Open your eyes and watch, Haki. This is how you jack off, yknow, when I'm not there to help you," you smirk, twisting your wrist every so often. His bottom lip quivers as he jerks himself, slowly gaining confidence to take over and stroke himself faster, moaning loudly as you switch to playing with his balls instead, carressing and massaging them.

Haknyeon cums unexpectedly, some of it spilling onto his shirt, all over his hands and some on yours too. You dip your fingers in his cum and suck on them, making sure he's watching the way your tongue laps eagerly at the sticky fluid. He's panting so harshly he might pass out, so you hold him close, his face resting on the plushness of your breasts as you stroke his hair. A few moments pass and his heart rate steadies, and he plants a grateful kiss on your lips, before shyly rubbing his neck, an awkward question on his tongue. You sense it, and you convince him to ask. "So how do girls... masturbate then?" He mumbles. You laugh sofrly at his question, spreading your legs wide so he can see how wet your panties have gotten.

You take your panties and skirt off and start playing with yourself, middle finger toying with your clit before dipping into your folds. "I always pretend it's your cock inside me instead of my fingers, Haki, but I have to make do with what I've got." you drawl. You can't miss the way Haknyeon's eyes follow the movements of your fingers, rubbing yourself desperately pinching and flicking your swollen clit, moaning shamelessly just to rile him up. Indeed, he's hard again, cock standing proud against his soft tummy. "I'm really close baby, but I don't wanna cum without you," you whine. He licks his lips, his voice hoarse with excitement. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me."

He wastes no time scrambling over to you, pressing his tip into your folds. You gasp, nails scratching at his arms at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck, fuck, wait baby you c-can't stick it all in at once- aaAHH!" you squirm as you feel every inch of his thick cock stretching you out, thrashing beneath him in a mix of pleasure and pain. Haknyeon hovers above you panting, gripping your hips as he slowly bottoms out, your walls clenching deliciously around him. You can feel your skin start to bruise with how hard he's pressing into your flesh, but you like it. "Mmmhh, you're so big, baby, stretching out my cunt like that. Gonna fuck me good? I'll teach you how, baby, don't worry," you smirk once you've adjusted to his size. He starts thrusting shallowly, and even that is toe-curling pleasure, the drag of his cock against your walls like ecstasy. He picks up speed with your encouragement, neither of you going to last long. He fucks you harder and faster, the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass like music to your ears.

"F-fuck you're already so good at this, a natural, huh, baby? You learn s-so quickly, fucking me so good like the little - ah - fucktoy you are. How does my p-pussy feel after dreaming about it for so long?" your words stilted by the force of his thrusts. He sobs, actually grateful that he gets to have a taste of your pussy after loving you from afar for so long. "So good, you feel amazing, ahhh, thank you my love," he mewls as he pummels into you. "Make me cum first, Haki," you command. He nods shakily, biting his lip with the effort of staving off his orgasm that it's starting to bleed. You cum all over his cock screaming, almost forcing it out with how hard your pussy tightens. He whines, pulling out and roughly jerking himself off, shooting spurts of cum on your tummy, emptying his balls with a loud groan.

He collapses onto you, exhausted but grateful. Your head is spinning from (surprisingly) the best orgasm you've ever had, and your legs feel like jelly. At least you're looking forward to the pretty finger-shaped marks on your legs and hips to remind you of the fun you had today. Haknyeon is almost falling asleep on top of you so you push him away before he suffocates you. He grins dreamily at you, his eyes glassed over and looking thoroughly fucked out, euphoric that he lost his precious virginity to his first love. He looks so sweet and grateful that you almost feel bad for saying everything you had said to get him tl fuck you. Again, almost. You press another soft kiss to his lips and watch as his eyes flutter shut, a dopey smile on his lips as he falls asleep. You quickly clean up and get dressed, snatching up his orange notebook and sneaking out before his family got home, wincing at the soreness in your lower region.

Sunday comes around and you return Haknyeon his bible study notes with a wink, and he smiles brightly at you, completely forgiving you for leaving him to wake up alone, sweaty and covered in cum two days ago. He walks you home again after class, and again the next day after school, and the next day and the next. As much as you don't see a real future with Haknyeon, you decide to roll with it and keep him happy, as long as it promised you earth-shattering orgasms in the form of after school 'study sessions' or bathroom quickies during lunch.

~

Haknyeon knows. He knows you never truly liked him the way he loves you. He knows you're just using him for a good time, but he thinks, no, he hopes, that if he lets you do whatever you want with him, that maybe, just maybe, you'll start to like him too.

A/N: I think I got too carried away with this one too, sorry 😅 poor bb Haki ❤

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #ju haknyeon #haknyeon smut

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Sorry this took so long y'all. This chapter was difficult to write. Hannibal invites Theresa for dinner and y/n finally confronts her.

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, child sex abuse; graphic descriptions of violence; confronting an abuser; body-shaming

The stitches in your cut hadn't even dissolved before Theresa intruded on your life again. Before you stormed out, Hannibal did in fact invite her to dinner. Polite society would rule the invitation null and void after that confrontation, but Theresa felt herself exempt from the laws of politeness. Like Evangelicals or craisins, Theresa loved to insert herself where she was clearly not wanted.

Of course, you were peeved at Hannibal for upholding the invitation when she called. But you could tell he had something planned. He was intrigued by her audacity and wanted to see how far it would take her. You couldn't begrudge him professional curiosity, as you too wondered what the fuck her problem was.

In truth, you saw what he did to your grandma, and you wanted to see him do it to Theresa. You wanted her subject to the same psychological torment that she put you through. And that, you realized, was why he honored that invitation. He wanted to vindicate you. And that was the sexiest damn thing you could possibly imagine.

Theresa showed up alone. That was her first mistake.

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Lecter." Theresa greeted, shedding her long coat and dropping it to the ground. "Will [F/N] be joining us?"

"[F/N] will most certainly be joining us." Hannibal said, his voice hardening. He noticed her coat in a pile on the floor and something in his head clicked.

"I hope I'm not overdressed." Theresa tossed her hair over her shoulders. 

She was. And you knew even before she showed up that she'd wear that green evening dress with the plunging neckline. It was the same one she wore to prom. She kept it as a memento all these years to memorialize the day she completely fucked you over. 

She was here to make history repeat itself. 

"Not all, Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal grinned, glancing at the staircase. "[F/N] is just touching up her makeup.”

“That sounds like [F/N].” Theresa laughed. “She always took the most time getting ready in the morning. And she was always the ugliest. It was quite sad, really.”  

Hannibal reminded himself what he had in store for Theresa before letting himself get angry. “If you could join me in the kitchen, I could use a little help with the appetizers.” 

Theresa took the bait and followed him through the threshold into the massive kitchen. 

“Could I trouble you for some psychological advice, Doctor Lecter?” She said, leaning against the island.

“That depends.” He answered, though the tone of his voice connoted a firm ‘no’. “Are you going to be honest with me?” 

Theresa mounted herself on top of the island and crossed her legs. “I’ve just been having quite a bit of trouble in my marriage.”

"Please get off my counter." Hannibal politely demanded. "I just sterilized it this morning."

“My husband just isn’t so excited by me anymore.” She pouted like a child. “He just doesn’t seem interested in... well, any of the things I have to offer him.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that you have nothing to offer?” You said. You approached them with purpose, the skirt of your purple dress fluttering behind you. Your favorite pair of strappy heels clacked against the tile and echoed through the room with every step. 

“[F/N] makes a valid point.” Hannibal agreed, taking you under his arm. “You’re an abusive narcissist, a serial adulterer, and you’re quite horrible at flirting. I certainly don’t understand what you could possibly have to offer.” 

“Nice to see you again, [F/N].” Theresa said, resigned to her defeat. “I didn’t want to say anything at the wedding, but you look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” 

You almost laughed. Growing up, Grandma had subjected you to every form of body-shaming known to man. Nothing Theresa could say would have any effect on you. 

“Really? Because I’ve never felt better in my life.” You smiled, knowing it to be true. “Hannibal is an amazing cook. You’d probably gain weight too if you were eating so well.” 

"Well, I have appearances to keep up." She refuted. "Gideon and I both have very busy schedules. Besides, he finds the kitchen more of a woman's domain."

"Unfortunate for you." Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and picked up a wine bottle by the neck. He kept his hands busy by pouring three glasses of wine. "That Gideon does not put in the time to keep you well-fed and fulfilled. Might I suggest not molesting children as a remedy?"

You snickered as he handed you a glass. You migrated to the dining table, where the trial was set to take place.

"Did you invite me here just to gang up on me?" Theresa leaned back in her chair. "Because if so, that's really mature."

"Of course not." You said, Hannibal pulling your chair out for you. You placed your napkin in your lap. "Well, maybe a little."

Theresa took a long sip of wine. "You're not going to get an apology if that's what you're after."

"Oh no." You shook your head. "I've stopped expecting basic human decency from you years ago."

"Good." Theresa huffed. "Since that's clearly what you want me to be, that's what I'll be."

"Don't give me that shit." You sighed. "I know what gaslighting is and you're not as good at it as you think."

"Y'know I never asked to be a parent figure to you and Anna." She crossed her arms.

"You may not have asked for it but you sure as hell enjoyed it." You countered, furrowing your brow. "Don't act like you weren't the dictator's right-hand man. You sucked up to grandma and always got preferential treatment."

"I was a kid." She shrugged. "You're really gonna blame me for the shit I did before my skull fully hardened?"

"Well, it exposes a way larger pattern of behavior." You explained. "You're a megalomaniac that wants power without responsibility. So you attach yourself to someone with power, probably another narcissist who's too self-involved to see what a leech you really are. It's what you did with grandma and it's what you're doing with Gideon."

Dressing Theresa down like that gave you a rush. It made you feel alive. But more importantly, it made her look small. It stripped her of her power.

"Well done, Sherlock." Theresa taunted. "But you're forgetting one thing. If I were a megalomaniac, why would I waste my time beating up on you? Some nobody with no power to speak of?"

"Because I'm a living reminder of your past." You narrowed your eyes. "I remind you that you can't just beat everyone into submission."

"Ladies," Hannibal interrupted, holding three bowls. He placed one in front of you, the savory broth enticing your nose. "This is pot-au-feu. It is a simple French stew made from beef, vegetables and potatoes. I added a marrow-bone for extra richness. It's the perfect combination of simplicity and substance."

You couldn't even wait for Hannibal to sit down. You'd been so hungry all day. Smelling the meat slowly braise over the course of the day was torturous. You went straight for the marrow, which was a recent favorite of yours.

Theresa picked the bone up between two fingers and dropped it onto the table, her face wrapped with disgust. "I think I'll pass. I'm not a dog."

"You are not." Hannibal said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I find dogs much better company."

Theresa tented her fingers and glared at Hannibal. "So you're just going to let her rip into me? Aren't you supposed to be the professional here?"

"Don't discount [F/N]'s analysis just because she is a student." Hannibal glared back at her. "From what I know about you, she's dead on."

"Isn't this entire interaction a professional conflict of interest?" Theresa folded her arms. "I don't trust her to analyze me because she hates me."

Hannibal put his utensils down. Anger flashed across his face. "I don't think you quite understand what this interaction is. You are not owed an unbiased psychological profile, especially not from me. You are not my patient. You are [F/N]'s abuser."

Theresa narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "So if you understand that, why am I here?"

"You think very highly of your intelligence, Theresa." Hannibal glanced down at his dish. "Perhaps you can figure that one out yourself."

You coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on your food.

"Darling, please pace yourself." Hannibal instructed, though he seemed pleased with how enthusiastically you inhaled your meal. "You're going to make yourself sick if you eat too fast."

"I'm sorry." You said after taking a long sip of water. "I don't know why, I'm just so hungry today."

Hannibal dropped his eyebrows, looking worried. "Did you take your medicine this morning?"

"I think so." You nodded.

Theresa smiled and reached for her phone. The movement caught Hannibal's attention, and he could tell what she was up to right away.

"Theresa, it's very rude to text at the dinner table." He scolded, taking a sip of wine. "Surely, anything you're saying to your grandmother and Anna, you can say to us."

Theresa, too proud to back down, slipped her phone into her purse and met your eyes. "You're pregnant."

"Brilliant fucking deductive reasoning." You rolled your eyes. "A woman gains a little weight and has a healthy appetite? That's the only logical conclusion I would draw."

"Well, aren’t we defensive?" Theresa taunted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Theresa, stop it." You gritted your teeth, trying not to convey how pissed you were.

"You're going to need to drop out of school to take care of the baby full time." Theresa sneered.

You knew exactly where she was taking this and you wanted more than anything to just disappear. You reached for the wine bottle and refilled your glass. "Shut up, Theresa. Shut the fuck up before you say something you'll regret."

Her face lit up from the satisfaction of finally making you angry. "And someday you'll blow your brains out just like your mother!"

This time, she would regret it. You chucked the empty wine bottle across the table. It hit her directly in the face with a deafening crunch before ricocheting off the table and shattering on the ground.

Theresa brought her finger to her nose, noticing the stream of blood trickling from her nostril. She stood up, stabilizing herself with the back of the chair.

"I didn't think you had it in you." She jabbed before collapsing to the ground.

You went silent, too afraid to look at Hannibal.

"For what it's worth, darling." Hannibal piped up. "I always knew that you did."

#hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #tw violence #tw blood #cult girl #tw csa mention #tw suidice

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi❣️❣️ so this morning i saw this post by @emsemotional and i haven’t stopped thinking about it!!! so here is a soft & short pre-s11 ficlet about gallavich getting high together <3

--

Sometimes Ian would come home so tired after a long day of work— aching limbs, a buzzing brain too syrup-heavy after lifting boxes and pushing carts and stumbling through idle conversation with middle-aged coworkers—to really think about anything other than pushing one foot in front of the other through the creaky front door, anything other than pulling himself up the stairs with a firm grip on the railing and collapsing face-first onto the bed.

Usually Mickey was already there, sprawled on the bed like a kid at a sleepover, watching some dumb video on his phone, ending a hard day of whatever the fuck Mickey was up to these days since the lockdown started, since Mickey had cloistered himself away within these four walls after the wedding. It was a reaction to the pandemic, sure— but it was maybe also a reaction to the breezed-by attempted shootout of their floral-scented honeymoon suite, a reaction to the world feeling a little more looming and frightening now that Ian and Mickey were married, yes, but so much of the home that Mickey had known before he’d been locked up was gone, replaced by shiny new apartment complexes and organic grocery stores.

Ian wasn’t going to question it— this lockdown shit was hitting him hard too, was grinding down on his hard-fought sense of stability and rhythm and pressing in on his grand notions of work ethic and savings and finding a place, somewhere, for the two of them someday. It seemed like since the wedding, shit in general had only gotten worse and worse— he and Mick were fine, they were existing, but something about a global pandemic stopping the roller coaster on its tracks as it headed up the mountain, leaving them suspended, had torn something irreparable in them both— they weren’t going to go back to that shiny-faced, post-wedding bliss that Ian had wanted to savor forever.

He’d give anything to go back to that time between then and now, between whenever they returned from their honeymoon and whenever he’d developed a now-permanent slouch in his shoulders from long days at a dead end job, and a scruffy five o’clock shadow that he didn’t really have the energy to deal with both when he came home from work and when he crawled out of bed at 5 in the morning before sunrise, shifting out from under Mickey’s hand that always rested with a solid weight on Ian’s chest as he slept. Today, Ian fully expected to turn the corner into their room to that same habitual evening scene—Mickey laying there on his stomach, brows furrowed in the same permanent lingering discontent that they both seemed to be harboring these days, watching a video of some outdated trend blasting at full volume.

Instead, Mickey was seated in the bed, a pillow smushed between his back and the wall, hair ruffled and eyes bleary like he’d just woken up. He was wearing a dark tank top, the neck damp with the summer humidity trapped in the room that could barely escape through the narrow window— and he had a packet of rolling papers in his hand, a grinder beside him on the bed, his eyes drifting up and then back down to his task as Ian entered the room.

“You just get up?” Ian tried to keep his voice measured, tried to bite down any edge of resentment.

Mickey’s eyes flickered up again from where he was silently rolling the blunt in a tight cylinder, then freed a hand to flip Ian off.

“Was fucking napping. Still on my honeymoon, man.”

Ian rolled his eyes, letting out a little puff of air through his nose, but he kept his mouth shut— this was it, the whole crux of their problem these days, that they were both taking this shitshow of a situation very differently. Mickey was allowed to sleep the day away in his grungy threadbare bathrobe if he wanted to— in the same way that Ian was allowed to get up at the crack of dawn and leave him alone at the house all day, was allowed to be up his ass about money and expenses and “financial planning.” The world was burning around them, was tilting off-kilter— and they both had different ways of finding a rope to grab on to, of keeping their feet on solid ground.

Mickey was lifting the paper to his tongue now, then sealing it shut with practiced fingers. Mickey had always been good at rolling blunts—he was always patient and methodical in a way that Ian rarely was with shit like this, shit that felt meaningless and the aesthetics unnecessary. Mickey was still looking downward at the rolled cylinder in his fingertips; maybe because he was focused on his task, or maybe because they were out of practice being around each other since Ian had started his job. He barely made eye contact with Ian as he stretched to grab a lighter off the nightstand and doused the end of the blunt in flames with one fluid movement.

Ian shook off his sneakers, walking over to perch on the edge of the bed and watching as Mickey inhaled deeply and let his head sink back against the wall. Part of Ian, flaring up as a small twinge in his stomach, felt oddly jealous— how could Mickey be so fucking chilled out right now, while so much was uncertain and Ian was working his ass off to keep a roof over all of their heads?

And still. That wasn’t fair. Deep down, Ian knew that.

Mickey finally shifted his gaze upwards after taking another hit, tapping the blunt against the rim of a mug that they kept on the nightstand as an ashtray— and then reaching the smoldering cylinder out to Ian, who was still sitting on the side of the bed like a stranger who’d stumbled into the room. Mickey’s arm reached out— a contrast of rough hands and tattooed knuckles that delicately pinched at the filter, tilted at a practiced angle over the linen blanket.

It struck Ian that this was a peace offering—they’d been so close yet so distant for weeks, sleeping pressed together at night but mostly traveling in their own orbit. This outstretched hand was Mickey wanting to share an experience, a moment in which Ian could breathe—a moment that Ian could let him in rather than putting up walls of demands and stress, looking through Mickey rather than at him as he headed out the door.

And knowing this, Ian reached outwards, fingers fumbling on the paper.

It had been a while since Ian had smoked—the first few weeks of quarantine they’d pretty much been constantly high, alternating between sleeping and smoking and fucking and smoking again. But after a while, the doubts and the demands started lurking in, and the space of their bedroom felt too constricted, too close. Ian had lifted himself out of that space, finding a job and ending their days cocooned in the bedroom together— and Ian hadn’t really let himself deflate since then.

Mickey was content to stay in this comforting space behind closed doors, and Ian let him— Mickey hadn’t had a place like this, a place to lay and get high and watch videos on his phone, for years at this point.

Ian took his first drag, and felt the bitter smoke linger at the back of his throat before blowing it outwards. He let out a dry, sputtery cough, one that started in his throat and seemed to end in his ribcage, making him hack again and again— and Mickey let out a disbelieving laugh, lighter than Ian expected, and reached over for the bottle of tepid Gatorade that was sitting on the nightstand.

“Fuckin’ lightweight, man.”

Now it was Ian’s turn to flip him off, swigging back the Gatorade with tears burning in the corners of his eyes.

Mickey just chuckled again, and plucked the blunt out of Ian’s fingers.

And— fuck. How long had it been since Ian had let himself feel like this, loose-limbed and heavy-headed? He wasn’t even sure if the weed had hit yet, or if it was some Pavlovian response to the act of smoking, of inhaling deep and feeling his belly expand amid the humidity hanging heavy in the room— but instantly Ian felt the trickling in of a pleasant buzzing in his brain, of the warm and floaty release of his clenched shoulderblades, the fuzzy warmth of starry-eyed admiration as he turned his head and watched his husband take another hit, blowing curls of smoke out of his pink mouth in an exhale.

Ian must have been staring for a second too long, eyes lingering on the contours of Mickey’s jawline as the cloud of smoke dissipated in front of him, because Mickey turned and furrowed his brows.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

Ian just smirked to himself, causing Mickey’s forehead to crease even deeper—but he held out the blunt again, and Ian took it, reaching over to give Mickey’s knee a light squeeze in thanks. It was better this time, breathing the heavy air into his lungs, letting it out with a sigh. He was definitely feeling the actual weed now, the feeling soft as cotton that made everything a little easier, a little lighter.

Mickey was definitely there too, slouching back against the pillows and lazily flicking through his Spotify library to find something to let drift through the room through the tinny speaker of his phone— usually he’d play some sort of weird ass techno music that neither one of them actually listened to, or some sort of mellow pre-made Spotify playlist that Mickey would only stoop to listening to when he was high out of his mind.

It felt like there was a heavy blanket wrapped around Ian’s body—warm and liquid, keeping him weighted on the bed. And without really thinking, he let himself slump down farther on his side, slouching down onto Mickey’s shoulder. At first, Mickey stiffened at the unexpected touch— then Ian felt his shoulderblades relax, his body soften as they laid leg to leg, arm to arm.

Tentatively, Ian fumbled until his fingertips tangled with Mickey’s, until they were slotted just right— the movement felt like it took multiple minutes, like they were suspended and swimming through time.

Mickey peered to look at their clasped hands. “Gay,” he huffed out under his breath before bringing the blunt to his lips again.

Ian snickered, like that was the funniest shit he’d heard in weeks—because honestly, it was. They’d been drifting apart, on separate edges of a jagged faultline— except now Mickey was here, his same grumbling self, and their bodies were pressed together, and they were warm, warm, warm.

Ian buried his face in Mickey’s neck, continuing to laugh until he felt a dull ache in his abdomen. After what could have been an hour for all he knew, Ian finally peered his head up again— Mickey was tracing a pattern up and down his arm, eyes half-open and listening to the music, until he turned to Ian with a bemused expression. “You good?”

“Do you want a snack?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You sound like you’re fuckin’ babysitting Franny right now.”

“Well, I want a snack. So I’m gonna go downstairs and get one.”

“M’not fucking getting up, man.”

Ian poked Mickey in his side. “C’mon.”

Begrudgingly, Mickey let Ian pull him up by his elbow, rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy toddler and stubbing out the blunt that was still in his hands, letting it fall into the mug.

They crept down the stairs to the moonlit kitchen— Ian had a fleeting thought that they probably thought they were being stealthier than they were, given how he kept feeling like he was about to stumble over his own feet—and Ian flung open the kitchen cupboard, rifling around for a half-eaten bag of Doritos on the top shelf.

“Stop slamming shit, Franny’s sleeping.”

Ian perched on the edge of counter, Mickey hoisting himself to sit next to him,  and Ian placed the chip bag between them, letting them eat in a comfortable silence. Ian forgot how fucking hungry he always got whenever he was high— he and Lip used to creep down the front staircase after sharing a joint and blowing the smoke out the cracked bedroom window, eating fistfuls of whatever bargain junk food was in the cabinet. Ian felt a sudden softness that this silly childlike ritual, in this home— this belonged to Mickey now, too.

Ian noticed a bit of cheese dust on Mickey’s chin, and he licked at his thumb and smeared it away without thinking. Mickey immediately swatted at his chest, ducking away and bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet.

“Stop treating me like a fuckin’ five year old!”

Ian felt his shoulders shake with laughter— one wave, then another, and all of a sudden he was laughing again for no fucking reason at all, laughing because it felt good and warm and spread through his belly. Mickey rolled his eyes; but a grin was cracking through, sloping the corner of his mouth upwards.

“I’m never getting high with you ever again,” Mickey breathed it in a chuckled exhale. “You’re getting too fuckin’ old to handle this shit, your eyes are all red and everything.”

Ian shoved him back in the chest. “I’m not a fucking lightweight.”

“Mhm.”

Ian hopped off the counter, dropping the crumpled Doritos bag back on the shelf and slamming the cabinet shut again with an alarmingly loud whack that resounded through the kitchen and made Ian jump— and this time Mickey was laughing, and Ian was slumping forward against Mickey’s shoulder again, leaving a damp spot on the shoulder of his t-shirt where tears sprang up and spotted.

And then the moonlight softened; Mickey began to run a hand up and down Ian’s back, from sternum to spine to shoulder blades and back again— and Ian was suddenly reaching his hands for Mickey’s hips, reaching through the haze of dark cotton and softness around them. Now it was just blood rushing against blood, sweaty skin pressed together against the cool linoleum of the counter. Ian’s head dipping down, dropping kisses and pulling gentle bites of teeth on skin— Mickey pulling in breaths of air and doing the same, leaving scalding marks with lips that Ian could feel echoing and rattling in his entire body.

They made their way upstairs, wading in the darkness, wading against each other, bodies floating— landing on soft bedsheets, tugging and giving way.

#was maybe going to continue this but i am... bad at writing smut adjacent things lol #just thinking about happy giggly boys in love being happy and giggly! #and also feeling yearny for the very specific feeling of laying in bed w someone & smoking & feeling all safe #and warm and cushioned from the world #i hope this maybe gave u those feels! #rori shut up #also p&p update will be up next week- this bad boy is a long one! #love u all #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey #ixm

[colicotq]

the return of superman ( 1 )

pairing: lee ho seok x reader

keywords

camera position

/ camera effects /

( dialogues )

* sound effects *

time

Apartment Building

( On a bright ordinary sunny day )

7:06AM

( let's meet the new family. )

Entrance, Living Room, Kitchen, Bedroom

/ pans into multiple photos hang up on the hallway, as well as the wedding photos, however, the face of the man seemed to be blurred out. /

( who could this be? )

/ zooms the different toys scattered all over the floor in the living room. /

Parents Bedroom

/ zooms into the large bed where a large blanket is taking over. then there's a sudden movement under the pile of blanket /

( they seem to be waking up! )

( eomma is the first person to wake up in the house! )

y/n sits up, letting out an audible groan as she stretches out his limbs as she pushes the fluffy blanket aside. then rolling over to plant kisses on the chubby cheeks of the smaller bodies still sleeping soundly beside her. then to the little one on the other side.

/ zoom into the little bundle sleeping in the crib / * coo *

( the little ones are still in deep sleep. )

"i need to prepare breakfast before they wake up." y/n mumbles to herself, with a slight rasp in her voice from just waking up, she gets from bed and heads onto the kitchen.

* confused * ( it seems like the new superman isn't at home. ) ( wonder where he could be this early in the morning? )

Kitchen

y/n moves about the kitchen expertly, preparing breakfast for everyone, making sure that your quiet and the pans aren't clanging too much that will wake up the kids.

/ pans to the food beautifully laid out on the table /

* amazement * ( eomma prepared so many nutritious, delicious foods for everyone to enjoy! )

( eomma made gyeran-mari, doenjang-jjigae and japgokbap. )

( of course, some fruits too! )

Parents Bedroom

a little girl pushes herself up, scratching the back of her head, the mess that is her hair stuck in every direction.

( oh! it seems like someone has woken! )

she looks around the room until her eyes lands on one of the cameras perched on the wall ( freezes ), she rocks from side to side making sure her eyes are trained on it ( flinches ).

( the camera follows her every movement )

she quickly crawls off the large bed and shuffles sleepily out of the room.

Kitchen, Living room

the little girl pauses ( startled ) cautiously she approaches the tent and peeks inside. she spots a man sitting inside clad in all dark coloured clothing. she bops her head ( nice to meet you ) as a greeting then carefully backs away.

"good morning, ha eun!" y/n greets her, as you got down on your knees and opening up your arm for a hug, ha eun runs into your arm as she buries her face in the crooks of your neck. you pressed little kisses on her temple. ( so much love in the morning ) * awe *

"good morning, eomma..." ha eun mumbles as she fiddles with the cloth of your shirt "did you have a good sleep?" ( so caring! this home really is full of love )

"yes, i did. how about you? did you get a good sleep?" you asked, running the palm of your over her ha eun’s hair to tame it down.

ha eun nods and swivels around pointing at the vj tent.

“eomma, there’s cameras.”

“yes, there is. can you tell me how many of the tents are in here?” you asked.

“there are three.” * cheers * * amazement * ( she can count at this age already? truly an amazing family! )

“good job! did you tell them your good morning yet?” you asked, ha eun shook her head, “can you tell them good morning and ask if they slept well?”

“yes.” ha eun scrambled to the furthest tent, pushing aside the flaps peeking her head in, “good morning uncle. did you have a good sleep?”

“yes, i had a great sleep.”

ha eun nods in satisfaction and quickly moves to the other tent. asking about their sleep. after that, ha eun walks over to the table and pulling on the high chair. carefully climbing and seating herself, watching you move about in the kitchen.

“ha eun, are you hungry?”

ha eun shook her head ‘no’.

“i’ll wait for ha yoon to wake up. i want to eat with her.” *coo * ( eating meals with people is satisfying and fulfilling rather than being alone. )

"where’s appa?"

"appa is at the gym right now. but, he'll be back soon."

"eomma, is the baby okay?"

( baby? what ha eun talking about? )

/ flashback to the kitchen earlier on / / zoom in to your growing belly / ( y/n is currently two months pregnant! ) * coo *

“yes, the baby is okay! are you worried about your little sibling?”

ha eun nods her head.

“i want them to be as healthy and happy as chin hae.” * coo *

( ha eun is definitely a caring and thoughtful noona )

Entry way

* beeping of the door passcode * * the sound of the doorknob turning *

/ slow motion, a figure approaches /

( who is it? )

"good morning." ho seok greets, placing his gym bag on the sofa.

( it's wonho a.k.a lee ho seok! ) * amazement *

ho seok: hello, my name is lee ho seok, but i am mainly known as wonho. nice to meet you.

/ photo of lee ho seok and y/n together / ( they have been dating since 2021) ( ho seok and y/n met through acquaintances who y/n met during her trip in seoul )

/ flashes their wedding photo hung up on their wall / ( they got married after 3 years of dating )

( then... )

/ a photo of y/n's ultrasound / / a video of y/n's bare swollen belly while ho seok ran his large hands over it / ( appa is very excited to meet them! ) * coo *

/ a video of their twin girls as newborn babies, ha eun being held by ho seok in his arms while ha yoon laid in the hospital bassinet sleeping soundly / ( they welcomed their baby girls after a year of marriage )

( ha yoon being 3 minutes older than ha eun )

( chin hae followed after ) /an ultrasound photo of chin hae / / the girls excitedly and patiently waiting for their little brother to come out, while talking to her belly /

( they are excited to become a noona! )

/ a video of ha eun and ha yoon placing a peck his chubby cheeks / ( sweet kisses )

/ video footage of chin hae being guarded by his noonas while appa and eomma are doing housechores / * coo *

( they seem really good noona's to chin hae! )

ho seok: i am a proud father of three beautiful children. 20-month-old twins, ha eun and ha yoon and 6-month-old, chin hae. say hello.

ha yoon: my name is lee ha yoon and i'm 20-months-old. *amazement*

ha eun: nice meet you. i am ha eun ( they speak so well ) ( they seem like a loving family )

ho seok: and this our youngest, chin hae. ha yoon, ha eun, how old is your little brother?

ha eun: 20 years old.

ho seok: 20? no, he’s 6 months.

( why did you decide to come onto the return of superman? )

ho seok: i have a hectic schedule. i come home everyday at really late hours, i only ever see them asleep. my wife stays and takes care of them and when i do get a chance to play with them and talk to them, it happens during in the morning. then i leave again. i want to be a part of children’s life and i want to be a good dad. i already cleared half of my schedule for them but i feel it isn’t enough. this show will definitely bridge the gap that is growing between us. so, please, enjoy.

“appa.” ha eun held out her hand, wanting to be carried by her dad, ho seok complies and hooking his large hand on her armpits and lifting her up. he lets her rest on his arm as he peppers her cheeks with kisses, ha eun rest her head on his shoulder.

“did you sleep well?”

“appa, i missed you.” said ha eun, not answering his question.

“did you miss appa?”

“yes. you’re always away.”

( how did it feel when ha eun said that?)

ho seok: it hurts a lot and it makes me sad. it shows that they’re always looking for me and i missed out so many things, they wanted to experience things with me. don’t worry, ha eun, ha yoon and chin hae, i will make it up for you. i love you.

Parents Bedroom

( shuffle ) ha yoon wriggles around the bed and rolled onto her stomach.

ha yoon sits up with her eyes closed, her face all scrunched up and hair as well as ha eun is sticking out in every direction. ( still sleepy )

“appa.” ha yoon calls out croakily ( did she wake up by the sound of her dad’s voice? )

“appa!” ha yoon calls out again, though louder than the first time.

just in time, ho seok walks through the door with ha eun in his arms.

( superman has come to save the day! ) * awe *

“i’m here, i’m here.” ho seok gestures for ha yoon to come to his arm whilst still holding ha eun. ha yoon carefully crawls over to the foot of the bed, ho seok leans in to pick her up carefully and shifting her in a comfortable position on his hip.

“ha yoon, good morning. did you sleep well? hm?”

ha yoon didn’t respond ( still sleepy ), leaning her head on the crooks of ho seok’s neck, warily watches the camera around the bedroom.

( spy, spy )

Kitchen/Dining

“ha yoon! you’re awake! ha eun was waiting patiently for you to wake up so, you could eat together.” said y/n as you take out their food bowls and training chopsticks, laying them out on their high chair table.

/ zoom into ha yoon’s sleepy face / ( thank you for waiting patiently for me ha eun )

ho seok carefully placed them into their high chair as you serve them their food. ho seok carefully gathers ha eun’s hair into a small ponytail and ties it with a hair tie he found laying around on the night stand that he now had around his wrists.

ho seok then proceed to place the bib around their neck.

/ zoom into ha yoon reaching for her training chopsticks and poking her little fingers through the plastic loops. / / zoom into ha eun who giddily watches eomma serve her platter while clutching onto the bright pink spoon /

“say thank you for the food.” ho seok request as he took a seat.

/ zoom /

“thank you for the food.” ha yoon mumbles before digging in to the doenjang-jjigae, taking a spoonful of it.

( ha yoon loves eomma’s doenjang-jjigae! she eats so gracefully! )

/ zoom /

“thank you.” ha eun says as she scoops some doenjang-jjigae into her tray full of japgokbap and mixing it around.

* amazement * ( ha eun definitely knows how to eat well )

/ zooms into ho seok who eats scarfs down a bowl of doenjang-jjigae /

( they got it from their appa )

/ zoom / ha yoon watches ho seok closely as he bring the edge of the bowl to his lips,

“appa, you eat so well.” ha yoon compliments.

“appa eats well?” ho seok smiles,

“yes.”

“everyone needs to eat well so they can grow up to be strong and healthy.” ho seok explains, sending the 20-month-old set of twins into deep thought.

“eomma, you need to eat too, you need to be healthy and the baby needs to be healthy.” ha eun orders,

( so thoughtful )

“eomma, if you don’t eat. the baby is going to be upset. right, appa?” ha yoon asked,

“yes, can you tell eomma to eat well?”

“eomma, you need to eat lots of food for the baby!” ha eun declares.

“yes, i will eat very well.” you say.

then the sound of chin hae’s cries resonated throughout the whole apartment.

“chin hae, appa is coming!”

ho seok immediately stands up and rushes to the bedroom.

Parent’s Bedroom

chin hae had tears running down his cheeks as he stood being supported by the railing of his crib. sobbing.

“it’s okay! it’s okay!” ho seok comforts as he bounces the little 6-month-old baby who calmed in the arms of his father.

( chin hae is the safest in his appa’s arms. )

ho seok peppers his hairy head with kisses.

“hm? did you sleep well? did you get scared because your noona’s weren’t in the same room?” ho seok asked,

( yes. )

Kitchen, Dining

chin hae is cuddled up against ho seok as feeds him baby food. his little boy would enthusiastically bang his tiny hands on the table whenever he sees ho seok dips the spoon back into the jar of baby food, the eagerly opens his little mouth when the spoon comes to approach him.

( chin hae eats so well too! )

( twins focused on their food )

“i have an announcement today!” ho seok says.

/ slow motion / ( what will the announcement be? )

( is it a new toy? )

“eomma is going out today. you will stay with appa the whole day! are you excited?” ho seok announced with a huge grin.

( quiet ) * laughs *

“are you not excited for appa?”

( quiet )

“appa, we’re eating right now.” ha eun says.

( how well will the day turn? )

#wonho x reader #mx wonho #wonho #lee wonho #monsta x wonho #wonho x reader domestic au #wonho imagines #lee hoseok

[hanibalistic]

FOR MY LOVE, SINCERELY, FOR YOU. | BANG CHAN, LEE MINHO, SEO CHANGBIN, HWANG HYUNJIN. 

genre | fluff, little angst, romance undertone, platonic relationship, royalty au

synopsis | you are a royal baker doubling as a love-letter mentor for the prince who is trying to court the neighbour princess, while his princely cousin slowly falls in love with you.

word count | 32k+

warning | violence (one scene), this is an unfinished piece so if you get attached then beware of unanswered plotline (this is a joke but just in case)

tag | @fluffyskzclub​

note | this was an unfinished piece abandoned in 2020, a rather big project i had. i am posting it here because i am unlikely to finish it anytime sooner (for one, i find it hard to replicate the writing style i utilized for this piece), but it felt like an injustice to let this piece dust away alone.

The smell of cream puffs wafted before your sensitive nose. You took a few sniffs, letting the luscious smell of sugar linger, then you smiled in satisfaction at the plate of dessert displayed before you on the kitchen table.

It was a big day for your dessert baking career. You were about to grant a full round table of royalty your newest recipe for the first time after so long of not being allowed to follow your own baking recipe in the palace kitchen.

After being appointed as a new palace baker amongst many other older cooks, with the promise that your father would receive top quality medical treatment back in your hometown, all you have baked were measly desserts made by following the head chef's recipe.

It all started with those little bake days you did at your mother’s flower shop, where you would prepare limited tray of one random dessert, a tasty little extra for the frequent customers and those who spend over a certain amount of money at the shop. Your mother didn’t like it the first time you did it, but considering how much your desserts have always helped boost the shop’s sales, she allowed you to hold these bake days occasionally.

You had baked your signature lemon tarts one morning, the crusty layer of bread circling around the gleaming, lemon filling, paired with a small tent of whip cream and a raspberry on top. It caught the king’s attention. 

You were unsure how that had happened but just about two days after the bake day, the court messenger dropped by and asked you to attend a meeting with the king, and the king had asked you to enter the palace kitchen so the royal family could enjoy your dessert every day.

However, unfortunately for the royal family, none of them have ever tasted your dessert before because of how strict the head chefs were about you utilizing your own cook book. No matter how many times you have attempted to sneak your own spin in those atrociously boring, mediocre steps of his, someone was always there to call you out on your ‘wrongdoings.’

It was beyond infuriating to know that the palace kitchen has more ingredients and more baking utensils than anywhere else in the kingdom, yet somehow, you were not allowed to bake according to your own cookbook because apparently, you were too young and too inexperienced to have your own desserts be presented to royalty.

Mind them old folks in the kitchen, but the sole reason why you were here, and the sole reason why the king was willing to bargain for your cooperation, was because he really, really, really loved the lemon tarts you baked for your mother’s flower shop. 

You wish you could tell the head chefs about it, but there was no way for you not to come off as conceited, and you doubted the adults would listen a mere teenager like you, so you stayed silent.  

But then the Lord shone through the clouds and gave you this opportunity to shine tonight! You have concocted a plan soon after you were told that you and another cook—Changbin, you remembered—would be in charge of making the dessert for this grand event. 

The neighbor royal families would be visiting for dinner so they could discuss the courtship of one of the princesses, meaning you would’t just be making dessert for one royal family but several others as well! And oh lord, the audacity of the pastry chef when he told you to follow the strawberry cake recipe weeks before the actual day, you really had to laugh.

There was nothing wrong with a plain strawberry cake. Simplicity can be best at times, but not with the recipe he gave you, never. Besides, you have already got another idea in mind about what dessert you could make: your newest recipe, crafted after you decided to take a bite of the dry rose petals in the royal garden—rosewater cream puffs!

Your rosewater cream puffs; made with soft and crispy bread baked with delight and care, pumped full of rich and fluffy cream fillings you crafted with sun-drowned water, ones you mixed together with the rose petals you picked from the forest nearby.

Now, of course, you would have never been able to bake your own dessert with the entire kitchen staff watching your back almost every step of the way. However, since they have appointed another chef with you this time so they could focus on their own dishes instead of worrying about you pulling weird stunts, you needn’t be as alert as you used to.

Besides, the angels were totally on your side when they have appointed Changbin out of every other chef in the kitchen. He may seem intimidating but, believe it or not, he was actually quite the gentleman. 

At least, from what you have experienced, was that he doesn’t bark at children like the others have done with you. Granted, you haven’t been the most obedient one, but even then, Changbin had been extremely patient with your rebellious retorts and dreamy rambles. And when you told him how you’ve got it all handled, he believed you and went ahead to help out the old gardening lady with the crops and livestock. 

"Now, lastly," you said as you grabbed the clean sifter next to you. You hung it on the edge of the table before you pulled at the corner of baking paper. You tugged it up and carefully poured the content into the sifter. “Some powered sugar and we are good to go!”

You would be serving eighteen cream puffs exactly for the eighteen royalties eating above you in the dining room, but aside from that, you have also made extras in anticipation of them asking for more. It was a habit—people have always asked for more of your desserts, they can never just have one piece.

However, if it turned out that your rosewater cream puffs were not of their liking, which could be possible due to this being an experimental recipe, then you would at least have extras left for when you need to make some changes later. Would you have hoped to ask for some constructive criticisms? Yes, but you doubted you’d be off the hook long enough to ask the royalties for it.

You were moving onto your fifth cream puff when the door to the baking room creaked open. Your arms froze for a second in alert, wondering who could possibly be behind you. Could it be the head chefs asking you for the progress? Could it be the maid already asking for the tray of dessert to be delivered? 

Either way, they end in your eventual demise, because not only were you not finished yet, you didn’t make the strawberry cake the pastry chef asked you to.

“Hey, [Name], how’s the cake going?” Changbin asked, taking off his gloves and hanging them on the handle bar nailed behind the wooden door. 

You breathed out a sigh of relief at his voice, your eyes closing and your heart slowing down to a resonable pace. Then you glanced down at the tray of cream puff before you, your brows furrowing with a curse after you did so. The sudden pause caused a tad of the powered sugar to go slightly off track; it would likely be unnoticeable to the royalties, but to you it was one hell of a problem.

Your lack of response worried Changbin. He raised a brow at you as he tied the apron around his waist, his fingers fumbling clumsily with tying the ribbon behind his back. Shifting his gaze to the wooden table, his brows gradually furrowed the more he took into account the ingredients gathered on top.

Milk, eggs, butter, sugar, flour. The normal things. Whisks, wooden bowls, spatulas, a… a sift? Dry rose petals, a bowl of pink-colored water, macaroon sheet template—oh no.  

“[Name], please tell me you made the strawberry cake like you were asked to–“ Changbin paused before the table, his eyes casting down at the little cream puffs with pastel pink fillings oozing out of the crusty bread tops, and he immediately gasped in horror. “Oh my god, you didn’t! You–kid, I swear! Chef Park is going to be furious about this!”

“I know,” you replied without much care, making your way to your sixth cream puffs carefully with the powered sugar in your hands. “Which is why I plan to hide it from him.”

“That isn’t the point, [Name],” Changbin exclaimed with curled fists. He stood awkwardly beside you, watching as you finished up with the tray with a content smile before turning to look at him. Gosh, he felt like he was talking to a brick wall; anyone who has tried to convince you to do as the head chefs say always feels like they are talking to a brick wall.

“What is the point?” You asked, dusting your hands off and wiping them on your apron without breaking eye contact with him. Then your attention left him so you could transfer the cream puffs to a steel plate.

“These are going into the king’s mouth, you know that right?” He said. “Not just our king, but other kingdoms’ as well. The only reason why you are instructed to use the house recipe is because–“

“Because none of you trust my ability to bake something good on my own,” you cut him off with a disappointed glare, one that made Changbin feel a sudden tumble of his heart. “Everyone here always think I’m going to mess up, that I am going to accidentally poison the king–“

“Hey, hey, hey!” Changbin raised his index finger in the air, his eyes were wide in alert as soon as you spilled those dangerous words. He looked around the baking room carefully before turning back to you with wide eyes. “I taught you before, none of those sayings inside the palace! You don’t want to get misunderstood and thrown in the dungeon, do you?”

“No,” you said, frowning as you turned to him then. “But my point still stands. None of you trust me to be a good baker and I really don’t like that.”

Changbin heaved a sigh. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the newbies that joined the kitchen staff, he had been too busy taking care of the royal farm that he barely went into the kitchen unless it was his shift to cook dinner. Heck, he didn’t even know you existed until he found you by the farm entrance with chef Park standing angrily next to you.

He could still remember that day. You had said something insulting to chef Park and he decided to take you out of the kitchen as punishment. You ended up having to take care of the farm with him for a full week, and oh, heavens, were you one grumpy kid. 

But you did change for the better after he took you to the orchard for some fruit picking, you were smelling and knocking the fruits like you knew what you were doing. And perhaps you did know what you were doing, he just never stopped to see if you did.

“I’m sure nobody thinks that. I know I don’t think that,” he said after a moment of silence. “We just don’t want you to mess up in here. You’re making food, [Name]. If any of them so much is get a stomachache then you’re done for.”

You arched your brows faintly in agreement. You hadn’t really considered that. Being a mere kitchen staff in the palace, and not an important one too, makes you very susceptible to the king’s irresponsible anger and his absolute power. You could die by the royalty’s hand with just a snap without ever getting a chance to fight for yourself. 

But it wasn’t like you were baking poison! The maids have told you all you needed to know about this damn family’s tastebuds and allergies as soon as you arrived, and you have got them all memorized already. You wouldn’t make such a trivial mistake!

“Excuse me! I’m here to collect the cake!”

Changbin met your eyes briefly. You could see the panic raising in those browns when you smiled mischievously at him. Then, before he could stop you, you turned to the table and grabbed a hold of the steel, dome plate cover. You cupped it over the cream puffs before holding it up carefully and approaching the maid standing by the door.

When she gave you a weird look, her judgemental gaze eyeing the plate, you gave her a playful wink and smiled. “The appearance is a surprise. Let’s spice up the dinner a little for the royals, huh?”

You took a side-step when you felt Changbin approaching. His chest bumped against your head as you perfectly blocked his path, and you could feel the heavy sigh he let out as he held up his arms in hopes to still stop the maid from leaving the baking room. You rolled your eyes then, annoyed at his stubbornness. 

“Look, Changbin,” you said as you turned around, “There is no strawberry cake here. And even though you don’t specialize in dessert, I’m sure you know you can’t make a good one under ten minutes, so why not just let the cream puffs go?”

He glanced down at you, his eyes ablaze with both exasperation and horror. Oh, whatever he should do now? If the pastry chef found out he didn’t monitor you after being told to, and you actually broke out of the house recipe and made something on your own for the dinner, both of you would surely be in big trouble! Not to mention he had no idea if the cream puffs were even edible at all!

Sure, they smelt nice when he entered the room. The aroma of the roses strong and eloquent, plus the light sprinkle of sugary scent mixing together with it just made it a whole lot better. But just because it smelt nice does not mean it would taste the same.

“We’re not gonna get into trouble,” you muttered after seeing his expression, the guilty finally hitting you as you watched Changbin pinch the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. “Well… maybe not with the royal family, but I think chef Park might get a little mad.”

“You don’t say?” He rolled his eyes and let his arm drop to his side. Glancing away from you, he looked towards the table and widened his eyes at the extra cream puffs sitting on top of a wooden tray. A thought popped in his head and he held out his hand, his palm opened. “Let me try one.”

“Wh–what?” You looked at him, his words not processing through.

“I said let me try one,” he repeated, his hand moving in a beckoning motion urgently. “You already sent the cream puffs up, there is no point in me stopping the maid now, so might as well see if we’re only getting an earful or if we’re going to get a death sentence.” 

“They’re not going to die eating my desserts,” you retorted with a glare, not liking the way he phrased his thoughts.

Changbin heaved another sigh as he glanced away. You kept missing the point, it seemed; the problem didn’t lie in your dessert being good or bad, it was the fact that he didn’t know and he needed to try. But coming from somebody who kept having their skills undermined by others, it would make sense for that to be your initial response. 

“Can I please have one of your cream puffs, [Name]?” He asked again, more politely this time.

You stared at him for a while longer, your lips pursing as the guilt that previously surfaced in your chest magnified with the defeated look on his face.

Changbin had always looked so tired. His eyes are often sharp, but never without a tinge of unexplained wistfulness behind them that made them softer to look at. His arms are strong and scarred; some of the stories he told you about and some he kept hidden with a vague smile. His hands are rough and calloused from all the years of picking vegetables and rubbing metals, but they don’t lack tenderness when he pats your head at the end of the day.

He took care of you the most out of anybody else in the palace, albeit only meeting you a couple of weeks after you’ve suffered the wrath of the head chefs. And you have genuinely taken a liking to him because he has treated you well, therefore when times come when you’d realize you hadn’t exactly returned the favor to him, you would always feel bad. 

“Okay.” You gave him a curt nod before turning around to the table. You grabbed a small wooden plate from the corner and set it before you. Taking one of the extra creme puffs, you placed it on the plate before taking the sifter and lightly patting the powered sugar on top. 

You couldn’t stop it, though. You couldn’t stop being a brat in front of him, stubborn and rebellious, because you knew Changbin wouldn’t actually get mad at you for anything. And he just kept taking it, all your spontaneous antics and your informal retorts. 

He just takes them, with a lot of patience and understanding, as a parent would their child.

The burning in your chest was overwhelming. Ahh, you haven’t been able to act bratty in front of your dad in a long while now. Ever since he has fallen ill, you’ve only tried your best to take care of him. No more tantrums could be thrown and no more active jokes you could play on him anymore because of his weak heart.

There wasn’t anything terrible about that, for sure. You were more than happy to help nurse your father, but sometimes your childish mind just wanted to be spoiled by a father figure. Pretty sure everybody does once in a while. 

You slammed the sifter on the table, startling Changbin. Forcing a smile onto your face, you handed him the plate carefully. “Here, try it and tell me if you like it!” You said quickly, holding down the sudden wave of tears that was threatening the flow out. “Remember be honest!”

“When have I not been honest with you?” Changbin flipped your forehead with a frown just before he was about to take a giant bite of the cream puff. 

As you rubbed the spot with your hand and reached over to give his arm a harsh slap, he stumbled back with a faint laugh before grabbing ahold of the cream puff again. He held it before his mouth, the sweet smell of roses attacking his nose immediately, prompting him to take a bite of it. When he finally did, the powered sugar and the cream filling stained on his lips, his eyes widened in shock.

The cream filling was rich in its rosy taste, but it wasn’t so sweet that it would make your teeth sick. The sugar also managed to blend in very well with the naked taste of the crusty bread instead of overshadowing it, the two creating a well-crafted symphony on top of his tongue. 

“Oh, heavens–“ he paused to lick the cream off his lips, his brows furrowed as a moan of satisfaction left his lips while the cream melted instantly in his mouth. He glanced up at you then, his eyes simmering with surprise and, visibly, proudness. “Kid, did you make this by yourself?”

A glimmer of hope punched through your lungs at his response and you nodded, your hands curling into each other before your chest. “Yeah, I made those,” you said. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like it–please, I love it!” He exclaimed, sucking off the remaining cream on his fingers. “This is delicious, wow. Much, much better than a plain strawberry cake, I reckon.”

“I knew it!” You clapped your hands together in excitement, thrilled to see that Changbin has taken a liking to your baking. “Oh, I’m glad you liked it.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole table upstairs likes it too,” he commented with a short laugh as he set the wooden plate down on the table. He rubbed his hands on his pants, not bothering to grab a towel hung all the way at the back of the baking room. Looking at you, he tiled his head and asked, “Where did you learn to make that?”

“By myself!” You replied triumphantly. “It is years and years of experimenting with different ingredients! I did try a few different approaches with these rosewater cream, though. It is so easy for the filling to get too sweet if I so much as ground the petals the wrong way.”

Changbin leaned against the edge of the table, watching as you started to ramble on and on about your experience with creating this recipe. A proudness was born within his chest, spreading through his body with a rush as he watched you discuss what you had been trying to tell others was your ultimate passion. 

It was a shame that nobody ever listened simply because you were too young, perhaps things would change after tonight. 

“Hey, [Name],” he cut you off with a soft call, his hand reaching out for your head and giving you a few light pats. “Good job on the cream puffs.”

Your eyes widened a little, your voice falling mute at the tip of your tongue as you tried to think of something to say. You haven’t gotten a compliment on your baking in a while, not to mention this came a little too sudden for you to comprehend it fully. You just knew you were happy to hear it, especially from Changbin as well.

Before you could regain your voice and show him some gratitude, the door to the baking room burst open. You turned to look as Changbin spun around to look behind him. You grimaced at the newcomer, stepping back slightly at the bulging vein present on his forehead. 

Oh, chef Park was definitely angry about the dessert not being what he asked for. Judging by the look on his vein, and also that angry vein on his forehead, you were going to be in big trouble.

“What the hell were you thinking, [Name]?” He shoved past Changbin without giving him another glance, strutting straight towards you with an accusing finger. “You little brat, you can’t do one thing right, can you? I gave you a recipe, I told you to follow it, and you go ahead and serve… cream puffs? You serve them cream puffs?”

You stepped back when he got too close, your brows furrowing in discomfort as your heart raced in fear. As much as you hated to admit, chef Park’s authority scared you a little because of how much of a threat he could be. He could make your time in the palace a living hell, and there is no guarantee that you’d ever get out of here. You could be stuck with him until the day he dies!

“What’s wrong with cream puffs?” You asked daringly despite being afraid. It seemed that your annoyance was overriding fright in your chest.

“There is nothing wrong with cream puffs, what is wrong is that I don’t know how you made them,” he pointed out. “God, who knows what kind of atrocity you made? You better be the one to take the blame because I am not having my career be destroyed by a fucking seventeen-year-old!”

You scoffed out a laugh, your eyes rolling to the side condescendingly before you turned back to look at him. “You’re one to talk, chef Park,” you retorted, curling your hands at your side. “Serving a strawberry cake is too plain for this occasion. Not to mention your recipe is boring–“

You gasped when you felt a hand swipe across your cheek. Your hand instinctively went up to cover the spot where you got slapped, your eyes wide with shocked tears as you turned back to look at the man in front of you. He didn’t seem fazed, he seemed rather neutral about it, like he had planned to do that all along, and it made you want to wipe that shit-eating smirk off his face.

“Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Changbin stormed over to your side before you could properly react, a hand grabbing on the chef’s shoulder and shoving him backward. “[Name]’s just a kid, can’t you act a little civil with them?”

“Jesus, Changbin, don’t be so soft,” chef Park said, rolling his eyes. “They’re old enough to know they shouldn’t disrespect elders.”

“And you’re old enough to know that violence doesn’t solve anything,” Changbin pressed on, his voice almost coming out as a growl as he held himself back from punching the man right in the jaw. “With all due respect, chef, but you need to grow the hell up.”

The man relaxed a little then, his eyes squinting as he stared at Changbin in contemplation. Your heart jumped at his calculative gaze, now more scared for him than you were scared for yourself. Changbin didn’t have to do that, he should have just stayed quiet at the back and let you take all of it alone. Now you’ve got him mixed in the mess you made too.

“Changbin, need I remind you my position is a head above yours?” Chef Park said, his tone more obnoxious and patronizing than anything you have ever heard. Not even the king spoke to you like this when he was bargaining for you to stay as a baker in the palace, how was it his turn to speak like that?

Changbin glared at him, his tongue tied and his head unsure of what he could say. He knew if he says anything more, he would be done. His stay in the palace would most likely be over with just a single report from the chef, and all the years of him earning his trust would go to waste.

Perhaps he should have thought through this twice before he acted out, but seeing you get slapped across the face so unreasonably had stirred a fire within him. He was angry, genuinely angry, for the first time in a long time, and he didn’t care what would happen to him. He just knew if that fucker thinks he can lay his hands on you then he���s got anther thing coming at him.

This altercation was, thankfully, interrupted with a timid knock on the door. Chef Park looked behind his shoulders in annoyance before he spun and headed for the door. You watched his back, your lips finally loosening up and quirking down because of how upset you were. And, upon this distraction, Changbin immediately turned around to check up you.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, the back of his hand delicately running down your red cheek.

You nodded as you moved away slightly, your eyes squeezing together in faint irritation.

Reaching up to grab his hand, you held onto his pinky and ring finger before letting your arm fall to your side. Your eyes were squinted when you faced ahead, your lips pursed into a forced smile as you said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Changbin looked at you, his eyes shifting across your features and landing on your red cheek. Looking at it made him sad, and the story behind made his anger fume, but even then he listened to you. With a small nod of agreement, he looked away from you and at the opened door where chef Park stood talking to a maid.

He acted strangely, you found out. The second the door was opened, his face dropped and a smile immediately made its way to his face. A fake smile, you could tell, because that man has probably never genuinely smiled once in his life. He was talking lightly, his eyes shifting at the maid and behind her rapidly as if he was seeing a ghost. 

After a moment, he finally took a gentle step back and gestured towards you. You shivered—what was it now? Have the guards came to arrest you for poisoning a whole table of royalties? Have you made the worst dessert to ever be created in mankind that the king felt the need to come down to the kitchen himself, just so he could criticize you?

It was none of those, apparently. Waltzing into the room were three people, two boys and one girl. 

The girl wore an expensive ball gown dress, the light pink mesh material sewed of blossom petals on top as they flowed over the thick fabric underneath. Her top was off-shoulders, exposing her pretty bone structure adorned by a piece of bright jewel necklace. 

If those weren’t indication enough that she was the princess being courted for, then the tiara decorating her pretty little head would be.

Standing behind her was two boys. You knew one of them, he was the prince—your prince, as a matter of fact. Lee Minho; with big, glimmering eyes and a well-defined nose, and with lips that curl into the greatest cherry smile that never failed to woo another’s heart. He was an undeniably gorgeous man, you’d say. 

You have only seen him when you were lurking in the shadows with trays and buckets. You didn’t care for him much.

Standing next to him was someone you’ve met once before, as in an actual encounter where a conversation was held. That was Hwang Hyunjin, Minho’s close cousin who always came to visit as if he didn’t have his own extravagant garden to run around in. And whenever he came over to stay, he would usually stay for a whole month before his departure. 

You two met under an unforeseen situation. It was exceptionally bright that morning, the sun blazing a heated trail on the flowers in the royal garden. The flying insects all came around to rest among the bushes, hiding away in the flower buds and collecting pollens. It was a sunny morning that day, and Hyunjin decided he could go for a walk alone before the scheduled horse-riding session with Minho.

You were told to collect some fruits in the orchard so the baking team could make the desired dessert for the evening, a step you assumed would be the only one you’d be asked to take part in because you had pissed off chef Park once again. 

But, instead of heading straight to the orchard as you were told to, you took a sharp turn outside the back entrance of the kitchen and headed straight for the royal garden with your vine basket. You were trying out a new recipe during that time, the blackberry lavender cake. 

It wasn’t anything special, per se, so you were hoping you could add your own spin to it and see if you could make one that could be easily differentiated amongst all the other ones. That was one of the importance of making desserts: always make sure you incorporate your own style in the taste, let people know they’re eating your food.

You had planned to find some fully-bloomed lavender in the garden first, then you would head to the orchard and find yourself some blackberries. After you’ve collected what you needed, you would set out and get whatever the chef asked you to get.

You didn’t even know Hyunjin was in the garden before you heard him yell from faraway. When you approached close enough, you almost burst into laughter at how he was panicking over a butterfly flying around his perimeter. His arms had flailed about the air, not wanting to hurt the butterfly but still wanting to keep it as far away as possible.

It didn’t register to you that he was a prince at first, even with his velvet suit and jewel-filled fingers. All you knew was that he was a stranger yelling at the top of his lungs, in early morning, because he was afraid of a damn butterfly. 

Without thinking much, you had approached him from behind and touched him with your hands, steadying his movements as you carefully lured the butterfly over with your finger. It landed peacefully on top, its wings halting to a slow stop. Hyunjin had moved away from by then, and when he finally looked at you with a clearer sight, he immediacy swooned (inside his heart, obviously).

How could he not? A butterfly was sitting on top of your finger, the breeze was blowing gently against your hair, and the sun was shining down your eyes with its satisfying lights—you were completely engulfed by the beauty of nature, the delight of a new morning, and he thought he has never seen anybody more beautiful. 

“It is just a butterfly, Your Highness,” you had told him, with a gentle smile that showed a hint of playfulness in them as you set the creature free. You held your vine basket close to your waist and spoke, “There is no need to act with haste.”

With that, you left him both bewildered and bewitched at the heels of your feet. All he could really do was stare at your back as you left, his infatuation a foreign feeling he didn’t understand. He has seen so many princes and princess in royal balls before, all dolled up and styled with glitter, but none of them has ever struck his liking as much as you did.

And you had managed that with such a simple attire under a dirty apron, a head of messy hair, and an unbothered demeanour. 

Hyunjin could remember you vividly, even as he stood behind his friends in the small baking room where it was dimmer and confined. He hasn’t really stopped thinking about you after that morning, and he hoped that you remembered him as well, even if he was just the weird boy you met in the garden once.

“Good evening, chefs,” the princess spoke first, taking a small step towards you and Changbin with her silk gloved hands clapped together before her chest. 

Almost immediately, despite the bafflement Changbin was feeling, he dipped his head and bowed with a polite greeting. Glancing to the side where you stood, his brows furrowed when he saw that you haven’t moved an inch, and he quickly reached his hand up to press against the back of your head and made you bow with him.

“Get yourself together, Princess Rose is here,” he whispered to you quietly, hoping to god nobody could make out what he was saying.

You hummed faintly, pleasantly surprised that her name matched with the dessert you made. Then, with a reassuring glare, Changbin finally allowed you to stand back up straight by loosening his grip against your head. You dusted your hands off on your apron as you flashed Changbin a faint glare, then you smiled at the three royalties standing before you.

It was a rare sight you dreaded to see, simply because how much of a hassle it could be to meet royalties. 

You habitually waited for the princess to speak first.

“I was just upstairs eating a full and delicious meal prepared by the amazing cooks in this kitchen,” she said, giving Changbin a nod of acknowledgement as a slow smile crept up her face,“but, what I am very surprised by was the cream puffs served at the end of dinner! And I just had to come down here personally and ask for the baker behind those cream puffs!”

You stared at her. Well, she said all of those, but she still hasn’t asked you for your name yet. She only said she needed to ask, she hasn’t actually asked yet, therefore you wasn’t sure if you should reveal yourself or wait a little while for her to finally break the question out to you. 

Her eyes scanned past Changbin to you, and they brightened. Walking forward, her curls bouncing against her shoulders in the lightness of her steps, she smiled at you and asked, “Did you make those cream puffs?”

“Yes, I did, Your Highness,” you said, her sheer excitement spreading to you and causing you to relax. You gently let your guard down, your shoulders slumping as your hands met each other in front of your tummy. 

“Oh! How wonderful!” She beamed at you, “I absolutely loved the cream puffs, were they made with roses?”

“Rose petals, yes!” You replied, almost as enthusiastic as she was now that you were prompted to talk about your dessert. Many people have lent you compliments before, but none has ever stopped to ask you more about them. This was certainly a first. “I ground the petals up and mixed them in with water before adding them to the dry ingredients, it gives the cream filling that rosy taste to it!”

“Wow, that sounds like hard work!” She nodded in approval, her brows raising and her eyes widening to give you a look of affirmation.

You blinked your eyes rapidly. Oh? That was quite an unexpected reaction. Not so much what she said, though. People have told you the same things before; about how difficult it must be to come up with your own baking style, and to actually gather the ingredients so you could start making a dessert. 

It was the way she said it. It sounded something more like a validation than a judgement. It wasn’t “oh god, I will never be able to do this,” instead it was more of a “oh, it is so cool that you can do this!”

And it was hard work! You had to ground the petals for a certain amount of time and with a precisely calculated amount of strength. Your arms were already aching a minute into having to hold the wooden bowl at a forty five degree angle, all the while mashing out the rose juices with the rounded tip at the back of a spoon.

To hear another act so nicely toward your passion was, needless to say, refreshing. Besides, you would see the painful way chef Parker was scrunching his face at the back, wanting so badly to deflect Princess Rose’s words but unable to for many different reasons.

You have never met her before, but if Prince Minho does end up wedding her and she marries into this kingdom, you have not a single problem accepting her as your queen.

“You surely flatter me,” you said as you dipped your head at her politely, a proud smile adorning your lips. “But all the hellish process is all worth it if it meant earning your lovely approval, Your Highness.”

Changbin held back a snort, his head lowering in hopes to hide an eye-roll. What pretentious words you were spilling out of your mouth! You have never spoken to him that way before, he was sure you have never spoken to any other palace staff that way before despite most of them being well older than you. 

If you could just add a hint of respect in the way you normally act, you would be so popular among everybody.

Minho’s eyes had been focused on the curls of Princess Rose’s hair the entire time, something about the way they waved made his heart flutter. He was that much infatuated with the girl he was supposed to compete the affection for among five other capable candidates. But for a moment, he allowed himself to remove his attention from her and instead, onto you.

He has never seen you around before, unsurprisingly. But he didn’t know the palace recruited kitchen staff as young as you. He couldn’t pinpoint your exact age but he could tell you hadn’t lived a day past nineteen, with your acne skin but youthful features, your badly kept but a headful of hair, and your small but invigorating body frame.

You weren’t pretty, but you were youthful. Looking at you made him feel nostalgic, it made him long for the days of his younger years when he didn’t have the pressure of the throne weighted on his shoulders. Now he’s got even more stress because of the courting selection process, his mind filled with concerns about his love not being reciprocated and having Princess Rose be engaged to another. 

How Minho wished he could go back when things were less complicated, when he was free to do anything he so pleased. He should have learned how to bake a cake, but that activity have always been looked down upon by royals. He doesn’t bake cakes, he only eats them.

“I was hoping you would have some extra cream puffs left to spare, chef!” Princess Rose asked, her brows furrowing slightly as she tilted her head. “The plates were all licked clean because of how good they are, and I wasn’t able to get an extra. I was hoping someone would spare one for me.”

You raised a brow at the way Minho tensed up behind her. There were three things you noticed from that single movement. 

One, Minho messed up his first test in the courting process by not giving up his own cream puff. But, judging by what she told you, nobody else did either, so that should not cause too much damage to his romantic health bar yet. 

Two, Hyunjin wasn’t paying attention this whole time. His eyes were dazed but focused somehow, and you were unsure what he was focused on because as soon as you tried to catch his eyes, he looked away with a clearing of his throat. His plump lips pursed together as he eyed Minho, who looked at him with mild concern, before he dared to return his gaze on you.

He did it discreetly that time, not so much straightforwardly staring at you, and he could only slowly ease back into the longing stare when he found that your attention had reverted to Princess Rose again.

Three, Minho cared more about Princess Rose than Hyunjin did. That could just be a false assumption, though, from the way Hyunjin did’t react at all to her words while Minho did such a dramatic flinch.

Whatever it was, you hoped all the best for Minho. Both because you were quite fond of the princess and because you’d love for her to find true love.

Smiling, you gave her a nod and stepped aside to gesture toward the table. The ingredients were still presented on the table, but you knew she had overlooked all the utensils and sped her eyes straight to the tray of rosy pink cream puffs. 

“How many of them would you like, Your Highness?” You asked, moving closer to the edge of the table and grabbing the sifter in your hand, prepared to add the powered sugar to the remaining cream puffs.

“Let’s see…” she hummed, her body moving swiftly in anticipation but you could tell from the way she was curling her firsts that she was still trying to maintain her image, “I would like three more, please!”

“Not a problem, Your Highness.” You flashed her a smile before your eyes looked behind her shoulders at the two princes. You raised your brows, your head tilting to the side as you threw caution to the wind for a brief moment to speak casually. “And the two princes standing behind Her Highness? Would you two like some extra cream puffs too?”

Startled at your sudden question, Minho nodded with his eyes darting around your vicinity. He did remember liking it, perhaps not as expressively as most of the others did, but he did adore the rosy taste of the filling. It was sweet, a very darling contrast to the actual meal he had.

“Yes, I would like one, please,” he requested, his voice smaller than it needed to be with you. 

Hyunjin, unlike his cousin, was quick to jump on the enthusiastic train after Minho’s voice dropped. He clenched his hands together behind his back, his eyes lighting up at the chance to speak to you again, and when he spoke, his voice was unsettlingly formal and an octave lower than usual.

“I would like to have the rest of the cream puffs, please,” Hyunjin said, giving you a charming smile. 

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes widening awkwardly at the way he seemed like he was anticipating something from you. But since you had no idea what he was thinking of, you only gave him a quick nod and returned to work on the cream puffs.

During the meantime, Minho took the chance to nudge his cousin in the ribs so to catch his attention. When Hyunjin glanced to the side at him, he flashed him a playful glare and a gradually blossoming smile. It was a wordless way for him to ask Hyunjin what in the fresh hell was that sudden attitude change he did to you?

Hyunjin shrugged, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “What?”

“You’re acting weird,” Minho replied lowly. “Why are you suddenly talking like an adult?”

“I am? Heavens, I did not notice, truly,” Hyunjin said, placing a hand over his heart. “I have always talked like this.”

“Stop lying, I have known you for years,” Minho hissed out. “You have never used that voice before unless you are trying to appeal to somebody!”

Changbin moved his body so his back faced the three royalties. Pretending to look over you pouring powered sugar on the dessert, he finally allowed himself a moment of rest and rolled his eyes freely. Did the two princes just assume everyone in the room was deaf or did they overestimate their ability to whisper? 

He, and you, and possibly Princess Rose and chef Park, could hear their conversation clearly anyway. There was no need to whisper like that. It made them look stupid.

“Sorry to interrupt your lively discussion, Your Highnesses, but here are the cream puffs you asked for,” you said as you turned to them, your hands full with the cream puffs.

You gave the single one, supported by a baking parchment paper, to Minho first. Then you handed Princess Rose a smaller wooden tray of cream puffs, smiling faintly when she gleamed at the dessert in her hands. Lastly, you turned to Hyunjin and handed him the remaining of the cream puffs on a rectangular tray. He smiled at you, you politely returned it.

“Thank you so much!” Princess Rose beamed, holding the tray in her little hands like it was one of her many tiaras. She looked up at you, her eyes sparkling in a way that made you sweat; it was too cheerful and too jumpy for you. “Ah, I am so glad that you chose to make this. And of course, credits to chef Park for appointing you this position, I wouldn’t have had the chance to taste this if he hadn’t.”

You caught your lower lip between your teeth, your cheeks jutting out uncontrollably when chef Park was forced to give the joyful princess a smile, seemingly all in agreement to what she said. He must be furious, having his opinion denied by a royalty in such an energetic way after he just slapped you for defying him. 

It wasn’t the best revenge, but it was good enough and amusing to watch from the side. 

When you caught Changbin’s eyes, you found that he was trying his best to hold in a bright smile. His eyes widened at you and his head tilted to gesture towards the awkward man by the door, fumbling to keep up with the chatty princess. You could only giggle under your breath, pulling a face before allowing a smile to fully appear on your face.

Hyunjin clenched the edge of the tray unconsciously, his eyes once again lingered on your grin. He couldn’t hear your laugh, it must have been feathery light, and for once he despised the outdated rule of servants not being able to act freely around royalties. He wanted to hear it, he wanted to hear you laugh. 

How were you doing this to him? His heart a pitter-pattering mess as he looked at your mundane features, not at all like himself or the princess in this room, yet his cheeks flush at the mere sight of you ever sine that morning in the garden. It seemed to have gotten worse now that he learned how good of a baker you are. 

Delicious food and a naturally endearing face? Oh god, how could Hyunjin ever handle this.

“Hyunjin? Let’s go, mother might be wondering where we are.”

The boy snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Minho, his eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to a new face. When he did, all he could find was Minho smirking at him with a somewhat understanding look before turning to look at your direction.

He followed his eyes, your frame coming into sight then. You weren’t paying much attention to them anymore since they didn’t ask you for anything else. Instead, you had turned to clean up with table with Changbin’s help, lecturing him to gather certain utensils and dumping them at the sink. Removing his eyes from you, he looked at Minho again and he frowned.

“What?” He asked, shrugging.

Minho stared at him for a moment, wondering if he had caught onto the wrong idea. He swore that Hyunjin was staring at you, in the way Princess Rose was looking at those cream puffs and in the way he used to look at her—filled with infatuation and longing curiosity. It was a terrible crush. 

Hyunjin could be denying it, but he could also be assuming things wrong. He couldn’t tell for now, so instead of pushing into the matter, he only patted Hyunjin on the shoulder and turned away to find Princess Rose. He left Hyunjin standing there, confused and frustrated at his own confusion, wondering what Minho meant with that knowing smirk of his.

With his mind filled, Hyunjin tilted his head to the side with mumbles escaping his lips. He spun around after sparking you one last glance, opting to reach for the rosewater cream puffs and popping one into his mouth. The sugary taste engulfed him in a loose but warm hug, and he felt giddy all over knowing that you were behind these sweet little puffs.

The baking room was reduced to silence again after the three royalties left, the only sounds that resonated in the room was from the water faucet and the cashing of baking utensils. You and Changbin have both shut your mouths as well, realizing that chef Park was the only authority still standing around.

His posture was rigid, and it wasn’t solely because his bones were getting older and older by day. He was proven wrong straight to your face, immediately after he belittled you so harshly that the staffs outside could have surely heard him. He knew he wouldn’t tell a soul about what Princess Rose said tonight to save face, but in a way he’s already been humiliated enough.

The last person he didn’t want knowing that the princes and princess liked those cream puffs was you, and you had been present through the entire event.

You wiped your wet hands on the towel, drying your skin roughly before looking back up at chef Park. Your eyes were dull, bored even, but the way you smiled showed triumph, and he hated it. That shit-eating expression of yours could go straight to Hell if he could control it. 

Damn brat, just because the princess liked your dessert now you suddenly think you’re all that, huh?

“You better not be expecting a compliment,” chef Park spoke first, glaring at you. “Like it or not, the main problem doesn’t lie in whether the dessert is good. It is the fact that you can’t follow instructions.”

What a liar. He barely mentioned one thing about you not following his recipe. It was all about your baking being terrible and him losing his career. Seeing that your cream puffs were fine and that you actually do have skills lined up your sleeves, he suddenly turned a blind eye to it and switched the topic he was mad about.

Chef Park couldn’t hide that obvious grunge he held against you for the life of it. He would find something to get mad at you for no matter what, and frankly, it has made your days in the palace a living hell. If it wasn’t for the good companions you’ve met around this place, and your daily mischief where you would bake instead of finishing tasks, you’d be miserable.

“You won’t be cooking for the next week, take that as a light punishment for breaking my rules,” he huffed with an eye-roll, holding a hand up when you glared at him and tried to talk back. “You won’t get out of it, [Name]. I’ll only extend the days the more you try to talk yourself out of it.”

You pursed your lips together and stayed silent, your nails digging into the heel of your palm as you forced your words to fall dead at your tongue. 

He was right; since he has the authority over you, no matter how much you try to appeal to the situation, you wouldn’t succeed. He hates you, plain and simple, and if he wanted you out of the kitchen, he’ll do it. The only thing he couldn’t actually do was get you kicked out of the palace entirely. 

That would be up to the palace butler, and lord, did chef Park hated that thorough bastard. Chan probably wouldn’t kick you out for the world considering his keen senses on detecting a false or angry report. He could see straight past chef Park’s bullshit with just a snap of his fingers,

Besides, Chan have always had soft spots for the younger palace staffs, even more for you since you were the youngest one. Acting like he was your blood brother, that nosy fucker. Let him find out what chef Park did to your pretty little face and he would be done for, which was the sole reason why he got you out of the kitchen and into maid duty. 

If you stay outside the palace, you stay away from the butler. You didn’t know Chan has that kind of authority amongst the staffs yet, but he wasn’t planning on running that risk of you blabbering about what happened.

“Have fun doing laundry, [Name],” chef Park said with malice laced all over his voice, then he pushed open the door and left.

Your shoulders slumped when he was gone, your eyes as sharp as kitchen knifes watching him leave. You wanted to explode, you wanted to scream at him for giving you another week out of the kitchen again. Another week of cleaning bedsheets and folding expensive clothes, another week of doing chores alone because you still haven’t made any maid friends, another week of sneaking into the kitchen at night just to bake something easy because you missed it so much.

You hated life here, you should have never agreed to coming here. You should have pulled the age card, telling the king that you wanted a few more years at home before entering the palace, that would have probably been a good enough reason to shoot him down. But coming here means medical treatment for your father. And even if you could say no to the king, you could not deny his wealth. 

“He kicked me out again!” You whined as you turned around to look at Changbin, your feet stomping against the floor childishly. There were almost tears in your eyes, but you didn’t feel like crying so you simply started to throw a tantrum. “What is his problem with me? I swear, he never liked me! He’s only been against me since day one!”

“You did tell him his recipe is boring, multiple times too,” Changbin pointed out as he placed the last clean bowl on the kitchen counter before moving away from the sink. He dried his hands on the apron, his brows furrowing slightly as you frowned at him in disapproval. 

“That’s because it is!” You exclaimed a retort.

“You do realize he became the pastry chef for a reason, right?” He reasoned, “How can he get to where he is with boring recipes.”

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right words to retort but slowly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was absolutely correct, and you have been extremely biased in your opinions. While you didn’t really think his recipes are boring, just very general steps for good ingredients, you only kept saying so because you hated him and he was being unfair to you.

You didn’t mean it half the time, but those words probably still hurt his dignity.

“Are you on my side or his, Changbin?” You asked lowly, squinting your eyes at him with a grimace.

Changbin laughed. He approached you and placed a hand on top of your head. His smile was graceful but lacking a lot in sincerity this time. It was meant to be more  playful than heartfelt, you knew, a smile that told you not to take him seriously from this point on because he was joking around. 

“I’m obviously on your side,” he muttered with not an ounce of strength in his voice, causing you to kick his ankles lightly. He laughed, loudly this time with his voice full. “No, seriously, kid. I am.”

You looked up at him, your chest habitually warm as he patted your head. It was a silent form of praise, you learned that from your mother constantly doing it to you when you were much younger. Now that she couldn’t be with you as much anymore, Changbin took it upon himself to give you the parental encouragements you needed as a youngster. And on rare occasion when you do see Chan, he’d ruffle your hair up as well. 

Now that you think more clearly about it, without the previous anger blinding your emotions, perhaps you didn’t hate the palace life all that much. If everyone could be just like Changbin and Chan then this place would be paradise on Earth. But, as you learned, your average person could not be as capable as Chan nor as friendly as Changbin, and that was really unfortunate.

“I know,” you said, nodding at him.

“You just can’t say thank you to people for once, can you?” Changbin asked, removing his hand from your head after shoving the side of  it slightly.

“I will when you’ve done something good.” You shrugged with a smile.

“What-“ he huffed, his lips quirking up into an incredulous smile as his eyes widened in a faint glare. “When have I ever done wrong by you, huh?”

“If I tell you then there is no point,” you hummed as you turned around, leaving his side for the hanger nailed to the wall by the door. You untied the knot behind you, releasing it with a swift pull, then you looped the apron out of your neck and hung it back on the knob. “When you did something wrong, sometimes it’s better to realize it yourself.”

“That’s not good communication,” Changbin mumbled under his breath, following your action. He looked at you then, his eyes rolling back for a moment as he shook his head at you, completely defeated by you. “But sure, I will apologize when I find out what I did wrong.”

You only grinned, the childish gleam in your eyes haunting him as he bid you goodnight and urged you to head to bed early. Then he left the baking room, his voice booming from outside as he called for someone in the main kitchen. Your grin dropped quickly, eyes blinking as you shifted your weight and pressed a hand to your cheek in the midst of your mindless thoughts.

Sometimes you just stare into space because you could, because your feelings need a permanent image to gather itself together for the better. One need not to always be thinking about something, sometimes your eyes settle and your mind simply register the colors, the object, never the meaning, and that would be enough thinking already. 

But your mind bounced out of the headless state today when your eyes caught sight of a peculiar piece of paper stuck on the edge of the table corner, hidden underneath the counter shelf with only its tip peaking out. Your brows furrowed at the wavering object and you moved towards it slowly.

Leaning down, you pulled the piece of paper out from underneath. It was a thick parchment paper, with faint red linings printed on it that matched the redness of the wax seal stamped in the middle of the envelope. The symbol of the king’s crown was intricate and detailed, you stared at it carefully in hopes to have it memorized, wondering if you could ever redraw it using frostings.

You looked up after you finished admiring the wax seal. This could not have been a letter written by any kitchen staff. The royal seal is only available to royalties, therefore one of the three that just came by the room must have dropped it without knowing. 

Curiously, you flipped the envelope around in hopes to find who the letter was addressed to. Dusting off the dirty stuck to the paper, your eyes finally registered the name written prettily on top of the paper, with a spot of spilled black ink next to the cursive name.

To Princess Rose, with love.

A love letter, but from who?

You hummed at it as you flipped it around again, your eyes fixed on the wax seal in the middle. You could always just stick it back if you peel it off, or you could just lie about the wax seal falling off after you tried to get rid of the dirt underneath the counter table. That way you could not only find out who wrote the letter, but you could also read the content.

Your fingers hovered over the red seal for a short moment, then you carefully peeled it off.

Hyunjin had finally returned into the palace from the garden. Right after wrapping up dinner time with the rest of the royal families and seeing them off in their gold carriages, he took the tray of rosewater cream puffs from a maid and headed straight for the garden. 

He wanted to enjoy the dessert at the stone pavilion that stood tall behind the water fountain, surrounded by wall shrubs with white flowers growing along it. The peace and quiet covering that corner of the garden had always calmed his mind, and the moonlight cascading on the rolling water flowed as freely as his mind could as it filled itself with the thought of you. 

Those cream puffs were as amazing as he remembered first trying it, and he seemed to like it even more now that he knew you were the one who made them. How unfathomable, he had no idea your hands could wove ingredients into such magnificence. As if you weren’t appealing enough already, catching his eyes and stealing his attention. Now you have caught your way to his tummy as well.

Hyunjin was able to finish the cream puffs quickly, much fortunately because not a second later he had heard the sound of Princess Rose giggling down the path to the pavilion. He almost groaned at her voice, his brows furrowing in exhaustion just from hearing it. If it wasn’t for the sugar in his mouth, he possibly would have cursed out loud.

It wasn’t that he hated Princess Rose, absolutely not. She was a very nice lady; she was pretty, very positive, has an elegant upbringing, and needless to mention, an actual royalty. He could see all her good sides and he understood why most princes would be attracted to her, including Minho, but sadly, he just wasn’t one of them. 

No matter how many times he had to pretend he was okay with joining the court selection, no matter how much his parents were anticipating his victory in this romantic race, he just could not bring himself to feel anything special for her. And it has been so difficult for him to pretend to be in love with her when he already has his crush on you occupying his mind on a daily, so difficult that he’d be happy to never see the princess again.

Turning his head, he wiped the powered sugar off his lips and proceeded to dust his hand off on his pants. He got ready to face the princess, prepared to strike up a conversation and offer to walk her back into the palace (hopefully, or else he’d have to walk her around the garden and he really did not want to do that) when Minho came out of the shadowy corner with her.

They were chatting happily. Minho’s posture was relaxed but Hyunjin knew his fingers were twitching rigidly behind his back, while Princess Rose was being simply herself, a beaming girl excited to drown under the moonlight with a beautiful man. 

Hyunjin breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight, knowing that those two were probably out to have some alone time with each other and Minho would definitely not welcome him to join. He discreetly tried to waltz his way out of their path, sneaking into shadows and hiding behind stone columns wrapped around in vines, and he only relaxed after he reentered the palace. 

His mind lingered at the sight back in the garden for a moment, his lips quirking up funnily when it hit him that Minho was making a move in trying to appeal to her more. Oh, he surely hoped his cousin wins her hand in marriage. Minho has been in love with Princess Rose since their childhood days, an affection she was far too oblivious to sense even within close quarters. 

Surely, this courting period would jolt her right out of it. Those love letters Minho would be writing to her would be one of a kind.

“Oh–good evening, Your Highness.”

Gasps! Hyunjin could recognize that voice anywhere, it was practically engraved in his brain.

Turning slowly to you, who he saw out of his peripheral vision, the muscles under that velvet blazer tensed up and his lips widened into a suspiciously big smile. His eyes darted around for a moment, finding out that he hadn’t stumbled into the kitchen but instead you had come out of the palace library. 

Thank god, he hasn’t lost his mind completely yet. Mindlessly bringing himself to the kitchen would totally prove that. But judging by his increasing heart beat, he was probably close to reaching that point now. 

“Good evening… uhh, chef!” He greeted back, waving absentmindedly.

“Did you just return from the garden, Your Highness?” You asked then, clutching your hands behind your back where the lost letter was held. When he gave you a questioning look, you reached on hand up to your head and tapped at it. You whispered, almost a hiss, “There is a leaf stuck in you hair.” 

“Oh! Oh, right, of course!” He quickly reached his hands up to pick at his locks, hoping to find the leaf you were talking about. When his fingers couldn’t grasp anything dry, because the leaf has already fallen out with his exaggerated movements, he opted to ruffle his brown locks altogether. 

Your smile dropped slightly at his choice of action. It was sudden, but it was just like the way he had swatted at that butterfly that day. A little clumsy and overall, hilarious to watch. But since you weren’t supposed to laugh at royalties, you had to keep your lips sealed up and put on a bland face in order to not break down in giggles in front of him.

Hyunjin, sadly, had taken your neutral expression too seriously and started to panic a little. What did that mean? Why did you stop smiling at him? Was he acting weird? Yes, he was acting weird! He must be acting weird! That’s not good! Oh no, Hyunjin, pull yourself together! 

He quickly cleared his throat as he pulled at the hem of his blazer and stood up straight, his shoes meeting each others’ heel. His smile didn’t fade, it only became more charming than skeptical, and his dimple showed from the way his lips quirked. It was like he did a personality turn in a mere one second, and suddenly he felt like an actual prince again.

“Sorry about that. I just finished your cream puffs and I think I might be having a sugar rush,” he said, a casual huff in his voice. 

“Oh,” you laughed out then, clapping your hands together soundlessly, “I see. Well, it’s never too bad to get that kind of rush once in a while, they aren’t too harmful.”

“Your sweets are too delicious to be harmful, chef,” he replied, almost flirtatiously if you weren’t so dense to believe that he would never try to flirt with you. But even then, you giggled at his words simply because he kept calling you by a title you haven’t received yet but hoped to in the future, and that made his heart all excited and happy.

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness,” you said with a polite dip of your head. 

“Yeah, of course, you deserve it! They’re really good!” He gave you several enthusiastic nods of approval, his eyes widening in emphasis that he meant his words more than he has ever meant anything else in his life. 

And you could only thank him again, much more meekly this time due to the sudden step he made towards you. He smelt of sweat, possibly from the heat outside the garden and how he had to wear such thick fabrics under that weather, but you could hardly concentrate on that when he body stood so close and he was all up in your face about it. 

Hyunjin was such a pretty man. You couldn’t believe you have never stopped to appreciate his features in your own time, even if you two have only met each other thrice by now. The whispers and coos shared between the palace maids, starting from the swoons from the younger ones to the motherly praises of the older ones, weren’t just here for show, you realized.

His eyes were surely a brilliant shad of brown, reminding you of the perfect brownies you have once baked for the neighbours’ kids. Looking into them reminded you of their innocent giggles, it made your heart swell in nostalgia. 

And his prettily plump lips made his smile magnificently bright, shaping his face perfectly like colouful frosting fitting perfectly into the surface of a cotton cake. It feels satisfying to watch and such a serotonin boost, much like that vanilla cotton cake you baked for your father’s birthday. 

You smiled even more fondly at him then, remembering the warmth of your hometown and letting your heart lean into the longing. It only made you smile; sometimes sadness displays itself in the form of a smile, you thought that meant you are slowly embracing the fact that you’re getting over it. 

After allowing himself a moment to watch you in silence, because it seemed you were also doing the same, Hyunjin finally broke the moment by faking a cough. When he caught your attention, he pointed behind you at the big double doors and asked, “You came from the library?”

“Oh, yes, I was just inside to borrow something from the butler,” you said, smiling.

“Ah… is it Chan?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah. I assume you two have already met each other, Your Highness?” 

“Yes, he has worked in this palace for a long time,” he said, rolling his eyes slightly. “He just used to watch over me and Minho when we would go outside to play. If you ask him about me, he’ll probably tell you how insufferable I am.”

“Well, I am sure you used to be as charming as you are right now, Your Highness,” you said humbly, causing his eyes to soften. He sure hopes he’s charming enough to linger in your head.

“Oh, actually, I do have a small question to ask you, Your Highness!” You abruptly said after a moment of silence, almost preparing to take your leave when you remembered the letter in your hands. 

Hyunjin blinked in confusion, waiting patiently as you clenched your fingers softly around the envelope before finally moving your hand back to the front so he could see the letter. He furrowed his brows at the red seal, recognizing it as the royal seal and only getting more confused as to why you have it in your hands.

“I found this on the kitchen floor, I was wondering if you dropped it when you came by?” You asked, handing the re-sealed letter to him before timidly shrinking back on your spot.

Hyunjin looked at the envelope, his brows furrowing more as he wracked his brain to think. Seeing the words ‘To Princess Rose, with love.’ was able to snap him out of his thoughts quickly as he snapped his fingers with a yell of realization. You jumped, your eyes widening as he turned his head to look to the side.

He looked anxious now, his fingers fluttering against each other in mild panic and stomping his feet gently against the ground. This was what Minho talked to him about, the love letter! He was supposed to hand out his first letter to the Princess Rose so when she leaves, he could keep sending her love letters until the courting period ends and she has to pick her husband. 

“Oh, no,” he muttered under his breath before turning to you. “Thank you for picking this up, I’ll return this to Minho so don’t worry about it!”

“Oh, I wasn’t really–“

“Goodbye, I hope we can see each other again soon!” He gave you not another second to finish your sentence and immediately sped off to the direction where he came from. But before he could go too far, he stopped with a few stumbles and turned back around to ask loudly, “Chef! I forgot to ask for your name!”

Your face heated. What did he need to be so loud for, it was such a trivial problem! Oh, even though nobody was around to witness this, it somehow felt embarrassing! Hopefully, Chan couldn’t hear him from inside the library, it’d be weird to have to explain to him that the prince suddenly just asked for you name when they never do.

“It’s [Na]–“

“What? I can’t hear you!” He leaned forward, turning his head to the side to show his ear.

You pursed your lips together in faint annoyance before you took a step closer to him and said firmly, “It’s [Name]!”

Hyunjin flashed you a smile, his head nodding. “Okay,” he said, “I hope to see you later, [Name]!”

You clutched your hands together, feeling your red face still permanent even after Hyunjin turned around the corner and left like the wind. Gosh, why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? He was never in your mind before, and you weren’t about to be so shallow to develop a crush on him simply because of his gorgeous face, were you?

You shook your head with a light curse, reminding yourself that Hyunjin was a prince and you were just a palace baker, and you spun on your heels to leave before Chan could open the library door to ask about the commotion. 

Minho was panicking. The second he reached his hand in his pocket and realized the emptiness of it, he started to panic. 

He had the whole night planned out in front of him weeks before Princess Rose even arrived to the kingdom for a night’s stay. He had spent days and nights roaming about in the palace library, flipping open one too many romance books and hoping to find the right words to ink down on the love letter he would give to her tonight. 

First the dinner, the garden, then he would give her the first love letter within the next ten love letters he would write over the course of a full month. 

But he couldn’t find the letter in his pocket. The letter he so desperately stuffed inside his tiny pants pocket before leaving his room to welcome the carriage, the letter he had been worrying so hard about for the whole night, the letter he kept wishing had not gone wrinkled in the confine space was gone, vanished, evaporated in air particles he could no longer see nor touch. 

And god, was he humiliated to have to keep Princess Rose waiting while he awkwardly laugh to fill the delay.

Seeing the way he kept fumbling with himself, the princess tilted her head to the side and furrowed her pretty brows. She gave Minho a few more seconds to search himself before she opened her mouth to ask, “Are you okay, Minho? You look ghastly.” 

“I’m fine, Rosie. Don’t worry,” he laughed, scratching the back of his head as his movements halted to a stop. His cheeks were red, but it was hard to see with his back turned on the moon. “I am just… I’m just finding something.”

“Oh? What is it? Maybe I can help you look for it,” she got off the stone bench and approached him, her eyes gazing around at the floor carefully. 

“It’s not–it’s probably not on the ground?” Minho grimaced as he looked around the ground, hoping that he hadn’t dropped his precious letter on the floor and let the wind swipe it up in the air. 

“What is it, though?” Rosie pressed on, leaning forward to stare up at Minho. “I can help you find it. It seems important to you.”

“It is,” he sighed, a faintly annoyed look gracing over his angry brows before he softened a little upon her face. 

Pursing his lips together, he realized there wouldn’t be any harm in asking for her help. This could be a treasure hunting game of some kind; tell her about the love letter he wrote, ask her to find it with him, and the reward would be her receiving the love letter. It could be quite fun searching through the garden, the moon and the night sky already helped with setting the mood enough to not make this feel like a mundane chore.

The only regret Minho has was not playing it cool and pretending he had this plan all along. He knew Rosie didn’t much mind it, she never really did mind his occasional clumsiness much, but swerving out of his original plan really irked him.

“Actually, yeah, I would love your help,” he said, looking at her. “I think I dropped a–“

“Love letter delivery!”

Like a lightbulb going on, alarm bells rung in Minho’s ear briefly upon Hyunjin’s panting but cheerful voice. He whipped his head to the side, his eyes widened in bewilderment as he watched Hyunjin halt to a tiring stop. Sitting right between his fingers was the envelope he had been hoping to see.

“Love letter?” Princess Rose turned to the side so she could face Hyunjin fully. She walked near the boy and reached her hand out, demanding the letter to be delivered as he so loudly announced a moment ago. 

Hyunjin looked at her, his jaw dropped slightly in reluctance. His eyes gazed past the princess and at Minho, asking for permission. When Minho rolled his eyes and gave him a casual shrug, he learned two thing: (1) it does not matter what Hyunjin does, because either way Minho thought he ruined the mood for him anyway and (2) yes, please give Princess Rose the letter so this humiliation event could stop.

“Here you go, princess,” Hyunjin said lowly as he placed the letter in her hand before bowing, with a hand over his heart and the other behind his back, the one he saw Chan doing to the king’s friends before. “I shall take my leave now. May you have a pleasant night, princess.”

Minho scoffed as Hyunjin swiftly turned around and walked away. He bet that boy immediately started running with his arms flailing about the second he turned the corner and just headed straight back into the palace, and he was over here acting all coy and gentle in front of Rosie. 

His attention reverted to Rosie when she turned around with her brows raised in question, the love letter clutched tightly in her hand. There was a very faint blush on her cheeks, but Minho could’t tell if it was just the makeup or the shyness that was causing it. Even when she approached closer to him, the dark night seemed to have draped a veil over her face and he could not tell clearly.

“You wrote me a love letter,” Rosie mused, waving it about in the air as an amused smile spread across her face.

“Yes, I did,” Minho replied in a grunt, putting his hands on his hips, “I am supposed to be courting you this month, right?”

“True,” she said, carefully tearing the wax seal open and removing the letter from the envelope, “but you are the only contestant to hand me a love letter so bonus points for you.”

“I thought the bonus point should already be added from me being your childhood best friend,” he joked, his tone holding a hint of mischief in it. 

“Correction, childhood friend,” she said as she walked over to the bench and sat down. She placed the envelope to her side and held the thin letter in her hands. “You’ve lost your title as best friend, that belongs to a princess now.”

“Ouch, my feelings are hurt, Rosie,” he said playfully, putting a hand on his heart and feigning to be in pain. 

Rosie lifted her gown and kicked Minho’s feet, not hard enough to make him stumble but hard enough to sting with her heel. She only smiled when Minho threw her a glare, and she returned to the letter in her hands. As she unfolded the paper, she spoke casually, “If I like the letter then I’ll add you more bonus point then.”

Minho kicked the rocks at his feet as he waited. His eyes nervously looked around the garden, embracing the scenery around him as he took in everything he has never paid much attention to. The carefully trimmed bushes, the wavering flowers, the reliable trees, and the clear path along the garden—the staffs sure take a good care of this place, he never took notice, and he would surely forget soon when another conversation strikes up with Rosie.

How beautiful the royal garden was has never been the kind of trivial things he has to let his mind linger on. Pretty things as such are like candy; he takes it in, and he forgets it until he gets another glimpse again, and never once does he take into account how the beauty comes to be because all he has to do is drown himself in it.

The silence was engulfing him whole, not in a comforting way as his own room would, but anxiously. The sound of silk curtains waving by his room’s window turning into the thunderstorm raining down in his chest, lighting strikes zapping down and just barely burning his lungs to create this exhilarating feeling inside of him. 

He was trying so hard to read her face, to see what she thought about the letter, to know if she liked it. But Rosie kept a straight race the entirety of her reading the letter, and the initial reaction she gave Minho was a bland expression. There was no smile, her eyes were empty, and her brows seemed neither happy nor angry.

Minho’s heart jumped as his mind raced to recall the days of him writing the letter. Has sleep-deprivation caught onto his brain and started spilling words for him? Or was his writing so purely bad that even Rosie couldn’t bring herself to pretend to appreciate it? 

He couldn’t speak when she suddenly stood up and walked near him. With wide eyes, Minho watched as Rosie raised her fist in the air before she landed a knock on his shoulder. Her hand stayed there, her fist slowly spreading out so her hand covered his chest, and she glanced down on the floor.

“You… you…” she muttered under her breath before looking up, with her rosy cheeks and shy smile, “you get extra bonus points.”

Minho took a second to huff out a relieved sigh, and it was both from how adorable he thought Rosie looked acting like that and from the fact that she liked the love letter he wrote. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat lining up his forehead and wiping it away, then he finally smiled down at the princess.

“You liked it?”

“Liked it? Heavens, Minho, I loved it!” She exclaimed, her hands leaving his chest and going to clutch the letter. She looked down at it once again, a smile blossoming on her face as she re-read the words before sighing dreamily, her hand pressing the letter to her chest. “I mean, I had no idea you could write like this!”

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I did look for a lot of references.”

“Oh, but even then!” She said, looking down at the letter, “how my eyes rivals that of the depths of the ocean, how they contain all the secrets you wish patiently for me to reveal about myself–Minho, that is very romantic!”

Oh that was, indeed, a very pretty sentence and it absolutely did reveal his deepest affection for Rosie, but just hold on a minute.

Minho’s hand dropped to his side as his brows slowly furrowed, his mind paused to think again, recalling his time spent sitting at a desk with the quill pen in his hand. And he thought about it long and hard only to come to a terrible conclusion: he did not write a single thing about ocean in the letter.

“I’m sorry, what ocean?” He asked, leaning forward slightly in hopes to look at the letter.

Rosie smiled cluelessly at him and she repeated, “My eyes? The part where you said my eyes rivals that of the depths of the ocean?”

“Oh, that…” Minho giggled nervously.

He wrote no such thing. 

Minho watched with a grimace as the white carriage moved away from the palace front yard where he stood, along with a few palace staff and Chan standing just to his side. 

It was finally time for Princess Rose to leave for her kingdom in order to create a fair ground for all the other contestants in the courting period. Minho would definitely be visiting her sometime during the month, knowing fairly well the other princes will do so too, but he’s also got the love letters he would be sending her way over the course of the month. Therefore, he shouldn’t do too bad on it. 

The only problem he has right now was to find out who switched his letter out with something else, and his first suspect was none other than Hwang Hyunjin.

“Chan!” Minho called immediately after the carriage was out of sight. He turned abruptly to the side where Chan stood, annoyance surfacing to his face and causing the rest of the palace staffs to quickly scurry away from the front yard. 

Chan breathed in deeply at the prince’s voice, already sensing that there would be some sort of trouble happening under the palace roof today. For a second he looked at the fading carriage with longing, wanting nothing more than to jump on the wagon and ride back home where he could sleep until sunset. Taking care of palace duties could really take a toll on him sometimes, as capable as he is. 

But well, too bad that he got picked because he had an honest face and the previous butler trusted him the most. He would be stuck here until he could find himself a suitable replacement for this position. 

Chan put on a soft smile as he turned to look at Minho, and he asked, “How may I be of service today, Your Highness?”

Minho furrowed his brows, his grimace deepening at his friend’s formal tone. “Cut the crap, jeez,” he waved his hands dismissively, “you sound disgusting.”

“That, I believe, a lot of guests beg to differ,” Chan said jokingly, adding a somewhat seductive wink at the end of his sentence and causing Minho to roll his eyes. 

Even though he wasn’t wrong, and that lots of gentlemen and ladies who have walked through the palace doors for balls and parties have openly discussed Chan’s more than gorgeous features and top-tier politeness, he didn’t need to say that. Not to mention that stinking wink he did, ugh, it just makes Minho shiver. 

“I’m going to pretend I never heard that but do invite me to your wedding if there will be one,” he said before jumping right back into the original topic. “Do you know where Hyunjin might be?”

“Prince Hyunjin…” Chan hummed as he turned to look at the palace, his eyes squinted as if he could see right through the walls and pinpoint Hyunjin’s exact location. 

And perhaps he could. After all, he had taken care of him for years before due to his frequent visits, he might still be able to recall Hyunjin’s never changing morning routine if he tried hard enough. Giving it another thought, mentally listing all the things Hyunjin does in the morning and about how long it takes for him to finish each tasks, Chan finally turned to look at Minho again.

“I could be wrong, but it is likely that he would be on his way to the garden right now,” Chan said. “And since he usually likes to grab a snack for that, he might be near where the kitchen is at the moment.”

“Got it, thanks!” Minho mumbled under his breath as he sped past Chan and ran inside the palace, leaving the butler completely bewildered.

And, just as Chan predicted, Hyunjin was walking along the hallway with his hand holding up a plate of cake. His brows were furrowed and there was a pout on his face that he couldn’t wipe off. 

He spent his entire morning in the library. He had laid on the velvet couches, all four of them plastered across the corners of the reading area, with a different book in his hands every other minute. 

He never actually paid attention to reading them, he only flipped the books open to read a few lines before he would close it and drop it on the tea tables. His short attention span never quite allowed him the time and space to finish one book entirely.

But he loved the library even then. It is quiet as the garden is, and while it couldn’t refresh his mind like the garden could with the flowery scent and the bright blue sky, the library has always given him a mysterious, candle-lit atmosphere. 

He loved the carpet floors and how his footsteps could never be destructive walking around it, and he loved the concept of books lining up the shelf, each one of them a different emotion stained with ink. 

The library is so alive to him, filled with people’s quiet minds, waiting for him to discover. 

After his hazy morning delight, all spent drowning in pages and admiring certain phrases he found beautiful, he started thinking about you. A gentle thought, one that could waver off easily if he tried, but he never tried because he Hyunjin loved thinking about you. 

You and your mellow words, spoken in such a gentle voice, your formality that he genuinely disliked, your passionate hands that could make brilliant desserts. He smiled with the poetry book pressed close to his chest. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was see you, which would be convenient for him since you two were located under the same palace roof now. 

He finally got off the soft surfaces and decided to head to the garden so he could admire the flowers and, well, daydream about you again, and he had stopped by the kitchen in hopes to find you there. 

He wanted to talk to you again, and perhaps he could humbly ask for a tray of snack from you to enjoy during his long visit to the garden too. But you were nowhere to be found when he arrived, not when he glimpsed into the kitchen and not by the other kitchen staffs who worked inside.

He did get himself a plate of strawberry cake, though, which he was quite in the mood for. But nothing beats being able to eat the dessert you make, and he knew that you didn’t make this cake as chef Park was the one who handed it to him while telling him about how he spent the whole morning making it.

As he made his way across the hall, putting pieces of the cake into his pouty mouth, rapid footsteps were making their way towards him from the other side. When Hyunjin finally registered the noises, he looked up from his plate and stopped when he found Minho racing towards him from the other end of the hall.

His pulled a face at the way Minho was panting by the time he approached him, watching his pathetic face contorting while stabbing the fork into the cake and popping in another piece. Hyunjin’s mouth was full when he spoke, his voice slightly muffled by the small pieces of strawberries and the soft cake in his cheek.

“What are you running for, you idiot?” He asked, a hint of irritation present in his voice as he waved his fork around the air. “See? Now you can’t breathe! You look stupid, and for what reason, Minho? For what?”

Minho looked up at Hyunjin, huffs of breath leaving his lips as his gaze hardened in confusion. “Who put roaches in your cake, Hyunjin?” He asked as he stood up, looking at Hyunjin with a permanent frown as he pushed aside his own problems to ask about his attitude. “You’re so grumpy and for what reason, hmm?”

Hyunjin scoffed, stuffing his cheek with yet another piece of cake before he complained, “Shut up! I’m just disappointed, that’s all.”

“Why? Is the cake bad?”

“No, it’s a normal cake, and I’m not going to explain it to you so just leave it,” Hyunjin sighed, his voice much gentler now that he has calmed down from the heat of not being able to see you just then. He poked at the frosting with the fork and eyed Minho carefully, his brows raising in question, urging him to speak. 

Minho gathered himself then. He has been thinking about the love letter all night, feeling both furious and defeated because he was torn between being happy that Princess Rose liked the love letter, thus liking him better, and being upset that his feelings weren’t the ones delivered to her but somebody else’s words. 

He wasn’t sure if the process mattered more than the result this time. 

“Did you write my love letter?” Minho asked, going straight to the point.

Hyunjin stared at him for a long moment, just munching on his cake and looking directly into his eyes with his own hollow and dead ones. And it took Minho a light-hearted shake of his head before he finally spoke in that bored, nonchalant tone of his.

“That’s a stupid question, Minho,” he said with a snicker, “if you said it is your love letter then who else could have written it but you?”

“Hyunjin,” Minho called once, firmly, his fists curled to his side and a sarcastic smile on his face.

Hyunjin laughed, holding his hand out in mock defence as he took a few steps back. Alright, he didn’t register how Minho was being serious but hearing his teeth gritting against each other was a good enough indication. He was still smiling in amusement when he forked up the crumbs of the cake and shoved them in his mouth.

As soon as he dragged the fork away from his lips, he spoke with an incredulous grimace, “Okay, okay! No, no I didn’t write your letter.”

Minho pressed on for a little more, not believing in Hyunjin just yet due to how playful he was being. “Are you sure? Nothing like… how Rosie’s eyes are like the ocean?”

“Eww, god no, that’s cheesy!” Hyunjin gagged, his nose scrunching up in pure disgust. 

He couldn’t even begin to think of Princess Rose in a romanic way, let alone write something about her pretty eyes being akin to the ocean when they’re not even blue. That kind of creativity wasn’t reserved for her, it was reserved for you, someone who he was actually fond of.

“Well, she liked it so cheesy or not, it worked,” Minho scoffed as he crossed his arms. “Except I wasn’t the one who wrote it, and if it wasn’t you either then it has got to be the person before you… say, who gave you the letter, Hyunjin?”

“Huh? Uh… [Name] gave me the letter…” Hyunjin’s voice trailed off slowly to a halt as he watched Minho’s expression morph into confusion. He waved his fork in the air and explained, “The one who made those cream puffs yesterday. They said they found it on the kitchen floor, I think they tried to ask Chan about it too since they came out from the library when I saw them.”

Minho tilted his head to the side, his mind racing to piece of puzzles together. It could not have been Chan who helped him write the letter. If he wanted to help then he would have done so weeks ago when he saw Minho turning and flipping pages of multiple romance books in the library. Why would he suddenly rewrite the whole letter for him? 

Besides, Chan wouldn’t head inside the kitchen for no reason. His duty laid outside the kitchen, where the main rooms of the palace were located. You definitely picked it up after he dropped it and looked inside because curiosity got the best of you. 

What Minho couldn’t understand was why you rewrote his letter? Have you planned to sabotage his undisclosed plan to court Princess Rose? 

“[Name]…” Minho muttered under his breath, his chest heaving in frustration as his brows knitted to the middle. Whatever reason it was, you already did what you should not do; your crimes didn’t simply lie in rewriting Minho’s love letter, you obviously tore it open and read it as well. And he has to settle that with you. 

Sensing Minho’s displeasure, it took Hyunjin a short moment to realize he might have just snitched you out accidentally, albeit he wasn’t aware of what you did and neither could Minho be sure, it seemed. Placing the fork on the plate and casually dropping the plate on the side table, carefully pushing it into the corner and against the flower vase landed on top.

Hyunjin placed a hand on Minho’s shoulder and laughed awkwardly, trying to deescalate his rising emotions. “I’m sure they didn’t do anything, though. Maybe you wrote something and you just forgot!”

“I’ve been facing that letter for weeks, I’ll never forget it,” Minho mumbled under his breath as he brushed Hyunjin’s hand off and started walking towards the direction of the kitchen. 

Hyunjin panicked. Minho seemed genuinely annoyed and he might have just put fuel to the fire by trying to defend you. He had no idea what Minho planned to do if he found out you did tweaked his letter, and he wasn’t sure if he has the power to stop whatever Hell could be descended upon you, so he made another mistake by stopping Minho in his tracks again. 

His hands tugged at the older’s collar, stopping him from moving forward. When Minho turned around to throw him a glare, he felt a shiver run down his spine and he immediately let go of his red silk shirt. 

“They’re not in the kitchen, I dropped by and they weren’t there so no point heading to the kitchen!” Hyunjin said nervously, clapping his hands together and rubbing his smooth skin.

Minho furrowed his brows. Fake smile, anxious eyes, and fidgety hands—he wasn’t lying, Minho knew. Hyunjin have always been the better liar of the two, he wouldn’t break a sweat if he had to lie to an entire crowd about some bullshit idea. Bluffing was his thing. If he was acting like this then he was just nervous and nothing else.

Unless Minho was wrong, of course. Since this situation matters you, and Minho suspected that Hyunjin has developed an enigmatic affection towards you (one that he needs to talk to him about because oh, no, a prince with a kitchen staff? The atrocity of that was immaculate), it could be possible that Hyunjin has thrown all caution to the wind and started to lose his head a little.

How disappointing. It wasn’t like Minho was going to do anything cruel to you. Did Hyunjin actually think he’d send you to the chamber over some stupid love letter? Hurtful, atrocious, obscene. Hyunjin has no faith in his tolerance at all even after all these years of him enduring his bullshit. 

“Well, I still have to find them somehow,” Minho muttered under his breath as he dusted his hands and continued to walk forward. “I need an explanation to why they rewrote my love letter!”

“No need to do that because I wrote it! I was the one who wrote it for you!” Hyunjin quickly said, catching up with Minho. But judging by the way Minho only kept walking, he knew his hasty lies were left both unheard and revealed. 

There was a moment of silent as the two walked towards the kitchen, Minho leading at the front while Hyunjin followed closely behind. Glancing behind his shoulder, Minho found the younger prince to still be fidgeting with the hem of his clothes, his eyes nervously looking around the walls and down at the pattered carpet, and a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

He wondered if Hyunjin noticed it himself; the way he stares at you, and the way his mind get all hazy whenever your name is mentioned, and how his movements always turn so abrupt and sudden when you are within presence. Minho wondered if Hyunjin realizes how his crush on you was only progressing when he should be suppressing it.

A relationship like that wouldn’t work, a prince and a kitchen staff. 

Even if Hyunjin was willingly to give up his royal status to be with you, which was a problem of itself, you most likely wouldn’t let him do such thing. 

It’s a tie bound to break.

You dropped the vine basket on the ground, the squelching of the freshly washed laundry a sound that reminded you of the chore you were supposed to be doing. You looked down at the wet clothes you were supposed to hang on the strings tied to the wooden poles in the backyard, groaned, and sat down on the curb by the bushes.

It has been a tiring day, much more tiring than when you still had kitchen duties, where you'd be asked to anything but bake even though you were appointed as a baker. But cleaning the dishes and gathering fruits in the orchard could still, to some level, be an enjoyable task for you.

Cleaning the dishes lets you at least smell the food in the kitchen, and picking fruits gives you time to think up new recipes. You could still somehow string baking into those kitchen duties you were often asked to do. But scrubbing the royalties’ clothes using a giant tub of soapy water and having to hang them all at the backyard? Not fun at all.

It was just tiring, and it was lonely because you have zero to none maid friends who’d talk to you.

You were the first one to finish washing all the clothes. It could possibly be your carelessness in not making sure if you’ve cleaned the clothes thoroughly, but you believed it was mostly your profound desire to get the hell away from the giant tub of gossiping maids, all with their sleeves rolled up and their mouths blabbering about the latest palace gossip. 

Lord, you would actually explode if you have to hear one more person giggle about how Changbin’s arms have been looking extra muscular recently, or how Chan is apparently the hottest man they’ve encountered aside from the two princes, who they try not to speak of too much because they are totally out of their league.

It was a nightmare back there. You wanted to say so many things; if only they knew Changbin talks like a baby and throws mini tantrums when he takes care of the farm animals. If only they knew Chan… uhh, you didn’t know him well enough to find any flaws in that man so you would let that one slip, but one thing you knew for sure was that Chan was definitely not as serious as everyone portrayed him to be.

Taking a giant bite of the bread Changbin snuck out for you when you walked past the kitchen with the dirty laundries, your shoulders slumped again as you relaxed against your knees and looked ahead at the yard. It was much plainer-looking than the royal garden, understandably since the backyard was mainly used to dry food and clothes. Only the palace staffs walks around this area, the royalties usually spend their time somewhere else.

Today seemed to be an exception though. As you munched on your bread, your feet tapping against the grassy ground rhythmically, your train of thoughts was interrupted when you saw two figures approaching. Not two figures in dark, plain clothing, but two figures in clothes made out of velvet and silk.

You squinted your eyes, knowing fairly well that those two weren’t any palace staff. And judging by the way they were speeding towards your direction, and how there were two of them instead of one, the king wasn’t part of the mix. Therefore, those two would be Prince Minho and Prince Hyunjin.

Quickly taking your last bite of the bread, you wrapped the napkins around it again and dropped the remaining piece on top of the wet laundry. You stood up and dusted your clothes before looking up, all just in time to find Minho stopping before you with his brows furrowed in dismay. Standing behind him was Hyunjin, who gave you an apologetic grimace when you two caught eyes.

You pursed your lips in slight confusion, but still you politely placed your hands together and bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness–“

“You switched my letter.”

You couldn’t even begin to get mad at him for cutting you off, not that you could have ever expressed your annoyance to him anyway. The fact that Minho has found you out baffled you, and you didn’t even try to deny it because he probably already knew the truth, which would be the only reason why he searched for you out of every potential candidates.

Perhaps you should have made an even more intricate lie, but you didn’t really think of that last night, especially not with how urgent you had wanted to get rid of the envelope in your hands. Now your carelessness came back to bite you in the ass, how wonderful. 

“I did switch your letter, Your Highness,” you admitted, keeping a neutral face to hide your palpitating heart. You have never met Minho in close quarters like this before and you have no idea how unreasonable he could be with the kind of power he has, therefore you needed to make every move with the utmost caution. 

Be polite, be fragile, be agreeable. That’s the way to go. If only you took your own advice every time, though. 

Minho heaved a sigh, his hands curling into fists as a sudden rage overtook him. Why did you do that? He has never done anything to you before! “How dare you open my letter when it isn’t addressed to you!” He scolded, “Have you no manners?”

“I apologize for doing that, truly, I harbour no ill intention for doing such thing aside from my immense curiosity.” You bowed before standing back up, but you kept your head low as you waited for him to respond.

“There is no point in apologizing, you have already switched out my letter and I already gave yours to Princess Rose. Even though she loved the letter you wrote, I hated that she didn’t get to read mine,” Minho said, relaxing slightly at your timid posture. “If you weren’t trying to sabotage my plan to court Princess Rose then why did you switch out my letter?”

You licked your lower lip. Oh, you were hoping he would just give you a punishment and let the issue go. The fact that Princess Rose liked what you wrote—ha! obviously—in the love letter has probably made Minho significantly less angry than he probably would have if the letter didn’t work out in his favor. But even with his semi-reasonable state, you were unsure how you could break the truth to him.

It might be rather hurtful, especially when you heard from the maids just then how Minho has been stuck in the library flipping books and looking for references for the love letter. 

"Why did you rewrite my letter? Tell me this instant.” Minho wasn’t yelling, which made it so much more intimidating.

You huffed out a gentle sigh as you looked up. A bitter taste lingered in your mouth as you shrugged, your eyes kindly refusing to look into Minho’s while your head turned to the side slightly. 

“It’s…” you started, your voice trailing off to a hush before you continued, “Your love letter was really bad… Your Highness…”

Hyunjin, who had been listening from behind, took a step forward upon your reply. There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were sparking with amusement when he learned closer to you. He clamped a hand on Minho’s shoulder and gripped it tightly to prevent from being shoved off, then he asked, “What did you say?”

You cleared your throat and repeated, your eyes darting between Minho and Hyunjin, “I said Prince Minho’s love letter was… really… uhh… bad.”

“No way! How so?” Minho quickly asked, his voice showing a hint of childish complaint in it. His lips jutted out in a pout, showing that he was genuinely upset that you thought his letter was bad. And that was coming from someone who wrote a love letter Princess Rose really loved. “I spent so long on it, though! How is it bad? I even searched through books and looked for references!” 

Oh god, now that you thought back to it, you didn’t know where you should begin. From what you could remember, there was simultaneously not that many flaws and so many flaws in this love letter. 

Reading it was a roller-coaster ride that went straight down, a journey of you spiralling more and more into despair when you realized all the elite education Minho has received was for nothing, because the love letter he wrote was almost abominable. Unless Princess Rose’s standards were extremely low, that letter would probably not bring him to the final round of this courting race.

Looking at Minho, your brows furrowed slightly at the grim anticipation on his face. Did he really expect you to talk him through the mistakes he has made in his letter? Could he not see that you’ve got a task at hand? Just because he could hold you off from doing it doesn’t mean he has to, the consequences of wasting your time wouldn’t be for him to take.

“I would explain everything to you but I have actual chores to do, Your Highness” you said as you leaned down to pick up the vine basket, “so I apologize, but I am going to have to ask for permission to leave.”

“Woah, no way,” Minho scoffed as he held up his hand. His brows were still furrowed in disbelief, but you could sense that a part of him was also curious to why you thought the way you did about his love letter. And maybe, just maybe, deep down there was a part of him that feared his lack of writing skills. 

“I have full ability to exempt you from a day’s work, and I will do that if you agree to explain to me which part of my letter sucked.” 

You clutched the edge of your basket. Somehow your eyes flipped from looking at Minho to Hyunjin, and your chest relaxed a little when his warm gaze stared right back at you, a gentle smile spread across his face. 

He had his hand on Minho’s shoulder, gripping it tightly as if to prevent his cousin from doing anything rash. And he didn’t have to be here during this confrontation but he was, not just because he was looking for some fun on a boring afternoon but because he wanted to make sure Minho wouldn’t act out. 

Everything Hyunjin did were discreet, but he was looking out for you nonetheless.

You only gave him the faintest nod before you turned back to Minho, and you raised a brow. “Do I even have a choice, Your Highness?” 

“No,” Minho said. “But I am still going to ask you politely.”

You heaved a sigh and nodded. “Fine. But, instead of exempting me from today’s work, I would like to ask for another favor if I could, Your Highness.”

Minho frowned, finding it annoying that you were trying to bargain in a situation where you have done something wrong. “What is it?”

“Chef Park has kicked me out of the kitchen to do maid chores for a whole week under unreasonable circumstances and personal grudge,” you muttered the last part under your breath, keeping an eye-roll to yourself. “I would like you to ask him to put me back in the kitchen, without revealing that I asked you to.”

“Huh…” Minho blinked unexpectedly. He turned to share an equally confused look with Hyunjin, just now realizing that you were, indeed, not fulfilling your role as a baker but instead, was doing a maid’s job. Looking back at you, he hummed. 

Whether there was a serious reason why you were kicked out, one he couldn’t fathom with the delicious cream puffs you made yesterday, he didn’t care. His love letter problem was infinitely more important right now.

“I will do that.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, bowing with a bright smile hidden in your action. When you looked back up, your expression bounced back to a neutral politeness, and you sighed. “It won’t take all day, there isn’t too much explaining to do, really.”

Minho frowned. He did not believe you. You wouldn’t have changed the entire letter for him if there really wasn’t much problems to explain, there were obviously a lot of things wrong for you to go to such drastic length to re-write it for him.

And boy, he was determined to find out what went wrong.

You brought the two princes into the palace, entering through the main gate instead of the mini door at the side where the palace servants usually go in and out through. 

The palace was separated into two parts, one much larger than the other, with the larger part being the grounds that the royalties mostly stayed on. The smaller part of the palace was located at the back corner of the structure, housing the bedrooms and bathrooms for the lower palace servants who were unable to leave home for the night. 

There were several doors leading into the that particular part of the palace, and they were all built in remote corners that only the servants could navigate to. You were unsure if any royalties have ever accidentally stumbled upon one of those little doors that cut down the red carpets laid out on the floor, but you were certain that none of them has ever tried to look for nor enter those doors. 

Minho has lived under this roof ever since he was born. He thought his younger self had roamed through all the secret passageways there were in his home, but he has never once arrived at this corner of the palace where you just led him to. 

It was all paintings and flower vases one second, then as you turned a sharp corner, suddenly the walls became dull and the floor boards turned up with wooden scratch marks. It felt like a foreign place to him. The way the palace was structured really made it feel as if the dorm wing didn’t exist, and it didn’t exist to him until just now.

You pushed open the wooden door and revealed a long hallway of closed doors. There were tiny torch holders lining up between each door, empty and waiting for the night’s arrival. Minho and Hyunjin shared a curious look with each other, both have never been around his part of the palace before, and together they followed you down the path. 

They have never noticed how loud their footsteps were before. For so long, the noises they make were drowned out by thick carpets and vibrant grass fields; the sudden loud clicking of their heels were making them feel rather self-conscious, especially when you were walking with such silent grace. Even with a full basket of heavy laundry in your hands, you made no sound as you walked.

 “Where are we, exactly?” Minho raised the question as he caught up to walk next to you.

Your steps didn’t halt when you replied, his question not at all surprising to you, “The dorms, these are all our rooms. The staffs who can’t leave for home because it’s too far away stays in the palace.”

“Oh…I should have figured…” Minho muttered under his breath, looking around at the small doors you three walked past. Then he looked back at you, his brows raised. “Why are we here?”

You came to a stop then, spinning on your heels so you faced the door. Pressing the vine basket against the side of your waist, you removed a hand from the edge of the basket and reached for the rusty doorknob. A loud squeak sounded through the hall when you pushed the door open, the weight of it heavy against the wooden floor.

Hyunjin poked his head over Minho’s shoulder so he could take a better look inside the room. He couldn’t get a full view of it yet, but he could see the dust lining up the window pane where the sunlight shone in, illuminating most of the plain room.

“I just need to fetch the letter you wrote, I have kept it with me since yesterday,” you explained as you dropped the basket by the door. “We can talk in my room, but I doubt you would want to be in here so we can find a place of your liking, Your Highness.”

Hyunjin got even more curious then. This was your room, this was where you sleep every night and wake up every morning. Somehow he wanted to know what it looked like, to go more in-depth instead of only looking at the windows staring back at him from across the wall. Would he be able to certain tell-tales about you? Perhaps your clothes, or the blanket you use to keep yourself warm at night? 

Even though he knew he couldn’t expect to see anything extravagant in a servant’s room, he wanted to walk inside anyway. 

“No, we can talk here. This is fine,” Hyunjin said as he waltzed right inside without further warning. And when he turned around to look behind his shoulders, he threw a small glare at Minho and said, “Right? We can talk here.”

Not quite understanding what he was trying to do, but also not having any preference over where he could get his writing skills criticized, Minho gave a shrug and walked inside the room as well. And just as Hyunjin was doing, his eyes started to scan the insides once he got more access to it. 

There was a single bed sitting on the far corner, sticking to the wall. A small table with two big drawers was placed near the bed with a candle holder being the only thing sitting on top. And that seemed to be all there was to that side of the room. Turning to the other side, there was only a closet and a chair right next to it. 

The room was small, but it was spacious because of the lack of furniture placed. It was much better than what the two of them have expected for a servants’ room. 

“Woah, this room is bigger than I thought it would be,” Hyunjin commented as he turned to you, watching you fish something out of your closet drawer.

“Yes, that should be the case since I share this room with someone else, Your Highness,” you mused as you closed the drawer before standing back up straight and looking at him, the piece of letter clipped between your fingers. Seeing Hyunjin’s raised brows, you gave him a faint laugh. “It would probably be quite a disaster if I have to share an even smaller room with Felix.”

Minho hummed, both in acknowledgement and amusement as he watched Hyunjin tense up next to him. Hyunjin gulped down a knot of dismay, repeating the boyish name under his breath as his eyes shone lightly with a burning heat. 

Oh, there must be a lot of question popping into his head at the moment, the word sharing a room and the name Felix not colliding very well for the sake of Hyunjin’s poor, young heart. They have both met the young fellow before due to him being a close acquaintance of Chan, and Felix was undeniably a very charming boy whose only downside seemed to be that he’s a poor servant of the palace.

“Oh–oh, so you share a room with Felix, huh?” Hyunjin laughed out awkwardly, his eyes squinting as they darted towards the single bed. His brows twitched, wondering if you had been laying in bed with Felix this entire time. Platonically or romantically, either way he couldn’t bring himself to show enthusiasm over it. 

“But… uhh, but there is only one bed?”

“Yeah, there is.” You nodded innocently, your eyes gazing at the messy bed with a grimace. Felix didn’t make the bed again, for the third time this week. You reckoned he must have a lot of work to do. 

Hyunjin laughed again, his voice forced and fake. You were far too casual about it than he wanted. Perhaps he was overreacting? You could possibly be taking turns on the bed instead of snuggling up to each other as he dreaded. 

When he asked the next question, his voice was squeaky in a way that made Minho snort from behind. “Do–umm, do you guys share the bed or something…?” 

You blinked at him, bewildered. You have never thought of that before. Ever since you moved into the bedroom with Felix, he had insisted on letting you sleep on it while he would wrap himself up with the extra blanket and pillow on the floor. But sooner, when you realized the heavy workload Felix had to endure during the day, you proposed the system of taking turns.

It took you a lot of convincing, and a night of you stubbornly staying on the floor, for him to finally agree with the system. He was so persistent on letting you use the bed, his kindness so overwhelming that even if his back was aching from the work, he’d still choose to sleep on the cold, hard floor.

“No, we don’t share the same bed,” you said, shaking your head before you raised a finger at the ceiling, “but that is an interesting approach, Your Highness. Not only can we both sleep on a mattress, we can also huddle for more warmth.”

No, no, no. Hyunjin did not mean to suggest that! He did not mean to suggest using cuddling with Felix as a solution to your problem.

“Surely, Felix wouldn’t mind if I ask.” You smiled, snapping your fingers. “I shall heed your advice, Prince Hyunjin!”

No, don’t listen to him! Oh my lord, what has he done? If you weren’t sleeping with another before then you certainly would now, and within Hyunjin’s striking imagination, the only thing that could happen with you cuddling Felix would be you falling in love with him. 

And since you often spend more time with Felix than you do with him, there would be virtually no way for him to ever try to gain your affection back!

“Well, I mean–wouldn’t that… wouldn’t that be a little awkward?” Hyunjin huffed out, “Surely, laying with another in bed, even through friendly means, is pretty intimate, don’t you agree?”

“That is true.” You hummed in thought, nodding your head in agreement before you suddenly bursted into a fit of giggles. “Oh, but Felix is quite a dreamy boy–not as much as you, of course. But I reckon I would not mind it that much if I have to lay in the same bed as him, Your Highness.” 

Oh heavens, how could he have done this to himself. Why couldn’t he simply shut up and let the envy dwell in his heart. This was a new level of self-sabotaging, even the devils would need a crash course from him. 

“Well, I–“

“Hyunjin!” Minho cut the boy off with a loud slap to his shoulder. He came up from behind, prompting Hyunjin to face him before he threw the younger prince a strong glare. 

It has been fun watching Hyunjin mess his non-existent romantic life up, it was probably the most entertaining thing he has seen all week aside from his encounter with Princess Rose, but for the sake of not letting Hyunjin embarrass himself even more, Minho had chosen to lend a helping hand. 

Besides, he wasn’t here to talk about you and your sleeping habit.

Looking back at you, Minho exhaled through his nose and his eyes froze at the letter in your hand for a moment. Then his gaze went dark, the previous anger he felt resurfacing at the reminder that you switched out his letter. 

Crossing his arms, he shifted his weight to stand taller, and he spoke, “Well, about the letter?” 

“Right, I have it here,” you said, waving it in the air. 

Minho quirked his lip for a brief moment. He wanted to snatch it away from your hands, he wanted to read it for himself and see exactly which part of the letter was bad. He swore the way he remembered it was that he had felt very proud of himself when he wrote the letter, and he was truly beyond the moon when he finished it. How could it have been bad if he loved it so much?

You gave a a scan once more, refreshing your memories of all the thoughts you had when you first read it, so you could better explain it to him where he went wrong. A few seconds passed and you finally looked back up at the princes, one looking sulky while the other annoyed, and you couldn’t help but heave a sigh at how your day has come to this weird moment.

All you wanted to do was eat some bread before lunch time. You should have headed to your spot and started clipping up the laundry instead, at least you’d look busy then. 

“Here, you should have it back, Your Highness,” you said as he handed Minho the piece of paper.  After he took it gently out of your hands, you looked back up at him and said. “And I shall tell you what went wrong.”

The hard part, right.

You didn’t know where you should begin explaining it to him. On a level, he didn’t make too many mistakes. His mistake was collective, it was one mistake he repeatedly made instead of several mistakes he made once each. But that collective mistake was able to render the love letter a shallow piece of art that held almost no significance to a lover.

“Your Highness… a love letter…” you began, your thoughts cogged up in your head and you were trying very hard to find the root of everything you wanted to say to him. You licked your lower lip, your hands flying up to your chest so you could do gestures along the way. “Your love letter isn’t bad in a sense that your writing was terrible, it is bad because it read as a shallow comparison.”

The letter had consisted of Minho comparing Princess Rose to an array of things. Starting with her hair, to her eyes, to her lips, then her overall demeanour. But that was all there was to the letter, just him making drastic comparison that amounted to nothing much but a compilation of pretty objects being put together in a single passage.

“There isn’t anything wrong with the way you chose to write the letter, but there is something wrong with the way you decided that all you needed to do was create comparison,” you said. “A love letter is not a school assignment to test how many vocabularies you know, or to test how good you are at creating similes, Your Highness.”

Minho took in your words intently, his mind processing each words and the connotation behind them with utmost concentration. You made sense to him, everything that you said made sense and did not seem like you were simply trying to make up something to scold him for. He did make a lot of comparison in the letter, but he didn’t realize how that could be bad until you told him just now.

Clutching the paper in his hand, he clicked his tongue and glared down at it. But why was it bad to create a metaphor? To write down some type of simile? What was so bad about comparing your lover’s hair to the softness of silk, or comparing your lover’s laugh to the heaven’s choir?

“So are you saying similes are inherently bad and I should never use it in a love letter?” He asked, genuinely confused.

You sucked in a breath, shaking your head as your eyes squinted in thoughts. “No, I am not saying that.” 

“Do you care to elaborate?”

“I was going to–Your Highness…” your voice trailed off quickly when you realized your sudden outburst, but as you eyed up at Minho, it didn’t look like he noticed the disrespectful tone in your voice. He was far too focused on the question at hand, and a part of you admired him for his willingness to take criticism. 

“When you write a love letter using comparisons like that, you have to…” you hummed, licking your lower lip as your hand bounced in the air, your thumb and index finger pinched together. 

“Similes are… they are completely fine to use. In fact, I used a few in the letter I wrote as well. But that is where the problem lies, Your Highness. You see, anybody can write a good comparison if they just slap a bunch of pretty words together.”

Words like soft, tender, gentle, galaxy, ethereal—language does not lack pretty words like those, and they can be as deceiving as they are romantic. Anybody can use it, anybody can say it. And sometimes when things are repeatedly being used, they lose their significance unless one puts their own spin into it. 

“What you really need in a love letter is sentiment! You need something to tie your comparison back to what you feel for the person you are writing to,” you explained, holding your hands out before your chest as if you were holding a heart. “Recall how I described Princess Rose’s eyes. I did not simply compare it to the blues of the ocean, I also mentioned how its depth is the way I wanted to unravel her heart.”

Hyunjin’s mouth hung open slightly as his head cranked upward in a slow realization. He wasn’t able to follow with your conversation, but when you started to explain the elements of a love letter, he reckoned he didn’t need to read Minho’s letter to understand what you were trying to convey. 

He understood it, seemingly better than Minho could since Minho still had a rather uncertain expression on his face. Marching forward, he placed his hand behind his back and spoke to break the thoughtful silence, “I get it! When you compared Princess Rose to the ocean, you are also comparing your desire to understand her as deep as the ocean goes!”

“Absolutely correct, Your Highness!” You clapped your hands together and grinned at him, your eyes glimmering with approval that Hyunjin felt a startling tug at his chest. He was smiling secretly to himself then but you couldn’t notice as you turned to Minho, raising a brow as if to ask him if he needed more clarification.

Minho looked at you, his brows still knitted together but it wasn’t due to hatred but more so confusion this time. He tilted his head, his fingers automatically clutching the letter he almost forgot his has in his hands. Then he started to mutter words under his breath, inaudible words you assumed were just him repeating the points you’ve made.

“Okay… what are you saying is…” he gulped, his eyes rolling away to avoid the faint intimidation of your gaze. “I should link everything back to how I feel about Rosie?”

“Yes, Your Highness, that is all,” you said, giving him a firm nod. “When you make a comparison, you want it to stand out among others. It has to mean something to you before it can be considered valuable, or else it is just a jumble of pretty words you can find in a book.”

“And that would be very shallow, Minho,” Hyunjin added, giving Minho’s back an encouraging slap. 

Instead of answering, Minho had his letter brought up to his face and his eyes were reading every single line of it. Your explanation, plus Hyunjin’s added example, finally solved the puzzle for him. He was able to grasp the key of sentimentality as of now, an important element he didn’t know a love letter should own. 

The only problem lies in whether or not he could successfully utilize the advice. 

“Oh… I should rewrite this letter and send it to Princess Rose,” Minho said to himself after he finished re-reading it. He folded it carefully and slipped it inside his pants pocket, making sure he shoved it deep enough that it wouldn’t fall outside this time. 

His eyes searched the ground before they looked up at you. He wouldn’t admit that to your face, but you truly helped him big time. Although he was still upset that you had switched his letter out and read through the monstrosity he wrote, he was glad you made the decision not to let him embarrass himself in front of Princess Rose.

With an awkward hand gesture, something akin to a wave but not nearly visible enough to be one, he said, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem. I wish you all the best in your writing process, Your Highness,” you bowed at him, “If I am not of need anymore, I shall take my leave.”

You stepped away from the princes and headed to the door. You picked up the laundry basket again, the fabrics inside stopped dripping water through the twisted vines. You looped the handle over your forearm and twisted the knob, opening the door in preparation the leave. But before you could take a step, a voice halted you.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance. Whatever was he going to ask? You thought he understood everything already! There was joy in seeing how passionately Minho loved Princess Rose and how much he really wanted to write a good love letter to her, but this was taking up your work time and you haven’t gotten through even one of your laundry basket yet.

Putting on a faint smile, you turned around and asked, “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Would you share with me what you wrote in your letter? I want to use it as reference, to set an example!” Minho asked, his eyes widened in screams of silent pleads. 

You heaved a sigh, your chest rising and falling visibly as you turned around slightly to face him. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but that I cannot do,” you said. “If I tell you, you will be compelled to copy it. The love letter needs to come from you, Your Highness. Your love should be without outside influence.”

You took your leave much quicker this time around, not hoping to give any of the princes a chance to stop you once more. If they do, you were seriously going to have to ask them for one more favor and exempt you from today’s tasks as a maid. You left the two princes in your room, one bewildered while the other in deep thoughts. 

Hyunjin was surprised to find you to have such a romantic mind. The mere fact that you seemed to have such profound opinions in regards to love and intimacy made him fall for you even more than he was already falling. And your perception of love was something he desperately wanted to find out, to go in-depth about and to understand. 

Maybe you two would have something in common, or maybe your ideas could rival that of his own. All Hyunjin wanted to do was venture inside your head and understand you from inside out. He always knew he was going to be in love with your mind and today just proved him to be absolutely right. 

He wondered if he would have been able to write a good love letter on your standard. It should not be hard to create comparisons of you, he could think of countless things right off the top of his head. But the feelings… it might be hard to express himself through words simply because of how strongly he felt for you. 

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Hyunjin took a look around the room and his eyes landed back on the single bed in the corner. He frowned then, his affection immediately being replaced with envy and defeat as he recalled your plan to ask Felix about sleeping together. 

God, that couldn’t happen, not on his watch at least.

“Minho–“

“Yeah I know,” Minho cut him off with a dismissive wave. 

He saw the way Hyunjin was glaring at the bed. Linking the previous panic Hyunjin had with you wanting to ask Felix about his suggestion, and the fact that Hyunjin got all fussy over Minho being angry at you, it was a no brainer that Hyunjin wanted to ask if there was anything that could be done about the lack of proper beds in this room. 

But he wasn’t in the mood to discuss that. The only thing occupying his mind was your lecture, and he kept repeating it in his head so he couldn’t forget what you told him. Sentiment, feelings, love—include those things and don’t be bland, don’t be shallow. 

“You know…?” Hyunjin muttered under his breath as he caught up with Minho, who had already left the room and started to walk back from where he came from. Judging by his quick steps, there were a lot of concerns popping into his head and Minho was racing to solve them all at once. “Are you okay?”

“You wanted to ask about the bed, right?” Minho pointed out suddenly, not stopping in his tracks as he continued to walk forward. “I can do something about that, but under one condition.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked quickly then, leaning in close an anticipation. It was anything to put a pause to your potential romantic life that involved him as the side character. 

“Write the love letter with me.” 

After finishing up with the wet laundries, you went ahead to take off the already dried off ones from a few days ago and headed back into the palace. You spent most of your day changing out mattresses and blankets, going from one empty room to another so you could make sure the palace stayed clean and golden. 

Nobody ever uses those rooms, though? At last not within your knowledge! They were mere guest rooms but there has never been any guest who would come by and stay the night, all aside from Hyunjin, and he only occupies one of the many guest rooms in this palace. You genuinely believed there was no point in cleaning them, it wasn’t like the neighbouring duke would pay the kingdom a surprise visit.

When you were finally done with you last guest room, the night has already descended upon the sky and dinner time has long passed. Walking along the hallway where the curtains were already drawn to seal the night, your stomach grumbled as did your throat, and you scurried out to the backyard where you returned the vine basket before heading straight into the kitchen in hopes to find some leftover food to eat.

You turned on the kitchen lights after pushing open the door, your hand patting along the wall to find the small button switch. The light flickered for a moment before it settled and illuminated a small portion of the kitchen. You eyes scanned the empty space, finding the silence welcomed but lonely. 

Everyone has probably gone to their room by now. It has been quite a long day due to a lady’s surprise visit (oh, so you have jinxed it). While she didn’t choose to stay for the night, the kitchen staff did need to replan their dinner and cook up something special for the queen’s friend. It all happened within a close timeframe, you heard, which was why you assumed everyone must be burned out after today.

Turning to the main kitchen area, your eyes didn’t notice the body hunched over the kitchen counter until you specifically turned towards the direction. A short squeal escaped your lips when you jumped, your hands flying up to your chest at the sudden impact. You had not expected anybody to still be in the kitchen, let alone an empty and dark one.

It took you a while to recognize the person, but seeing the bulging arms sticking out of the short-sleeved shirt and reliable back that breathed softly in his slumber, you could safely conclude that the person was Changbin. You frowned upon the realization, confused as to why he hasn’t returned to his room yet. If you had to guess, it would be him getting cleaning duties and falling asleep half-way.

But that wouldn’t explain the turned-off lights, unless the rumor about the castle ghost was real, which you heavily doubted.

Moving closer to his side, you faced his back and gave his shoulder a light poke. “Changbin!” You hissed, in a voice so low it wouldn’t wake anybody up in a crisis. When you received no response from him, you continued to poke his shoulder and call out his name, until you got fed up at your stupid method not working and you finally hollered his name out loud.

Changbin snapped his eyes open at the call, his body sitting upright immediately and his back tensing up with alertness. Panic grumbles left his mouth as he looked around the kitchen for expected danger, and when he did a double take on you, he paused quickly and finally relaxed. His shoulders slumped and he pursed his lips together, giving you a soft glare.

You shrugged, sheepishly smiling at him as you waved. “Good evening…?”

“Yes, good evening. Glad to see you’re finally done with the laundry,” he said, sliding off the stool and heading over to the stock shelves at the wall. “Sit down, I’ll cook you something to eat. You gotta be hungry, you haven’t eaten anything since this afternoon.”

He grabbed a two eggs in one hand, holding onto them tightly, then he reached over to the sink counter for a clean bowl before dropping the eggs inside. Putting the bowl next to the stove before looking up to check on you, he found you standing rigidly on your spot, unmoving and just staring at him. 

Your eyes were unreadable, much to his surprise. They were always so expressive.

“Are you okay, kid?” He asked then, his voice trailing slowly in a questioning tone. “I’m cooking you egg friend rice, do you not like that or?”

Your eyes traveled past his hands to his face, and you pursed your lips. It was a rare sentiment that suddenly overwhelmed you; nobody has specifically cooked a meal for you in a long time, the last time somebody did that was your mother, but you haven’t been able to see her ever since you moved to the palace. After that, you have only been eating the leftover portion of meals that weren’t sent off to the royalties or were made extra for everybody.

A personal meal. Something about that made your skin prick. It could very likely be that you missed your mom, but a part of you knew it was because you hadn’t expect Changbin to do this. He wasn’t obligated to take care of you like this, to stay up late and make you food, possibly even deal with the dishes when you’re finished and send you off to your room before he’d go back to his own.

“Aren’t you tired?” You asked, frowning at him despite not intending to. 

Changbin huffed out a low chuckle as he poured some rice into a bowl before proceeding to wash it by the sink. “Yeah, today was pretty exhausting,” he said.” But what then? Am I supposed to just not cook you dinner?” 

You pulled at your fingers, unsure what else to say besides words of gratitude that you were never skilled at expressing, so you didn’t say anything. You shrugged and approached the stool he previous sat on. You got on top, your feet perched on the handle and your shoulders hunched as you waited for him to finish cooking you your dinner.

“So do you plan to tell me what happened today?” He asked as he brought the washed bowl of rice over to the stove. 

Without removing his eyes from you, his hand moved to turn the stove on and poured the ingredients he prepared in top. The loud sizzle interrupted your train of thoughts and you tilted your head at him with confusion evident in the widening of your eyes, leaning forward slightly so you could talk to him through the noise.

“What happened today?” You asked.

“Felix came by and told me there is a new bed in your room,” Changbin said, laughing slightly. “According to him, it is said that Prince Minho requested the bed for you too, so what did you do that peaked his interest?”

The pleasant surprise startled you. Your jaw dropped slightly and a breathy laugh escaped your mouth in response to his words. You had almost forgotten about the encounter you had with the two princes today, even the fact that you had asked Minho to get you out of maid duty and back into the kitchen flew from your mind because of how busy you had been trying to tug in the four corners of a bed sheet. 

Your brows furrowed in thoughts then, a soft hum sounding at the back of your throat as you recalled the afternoon in your dusty little room. It couldn’t have been Minho who requested an extra bed for you, could it? 

From what you remembered, Hyunjin was the one who reacted strongly to you and Felix only having one bed in your shared room. Besides, Minho already agreed to helping you with chef Park’s problem, he wouldn’t do more than what he was asked for. He didn’t have to. 

If anyone was going to show you such generosity, it should be Hyunjin. 

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes swirling with perplexity. 

But he did suggest the idea of you and Felix sleeping on one bed. Perhaps he suddenly decided it wouldn’t be a good idea? And since he doesn’t have as much authority over how this palace wants to treat its servants, he asked Minho to be his spokesperson? Or you could be overanalyzing this; could you not humor the idea that the prince has decided to do two good deeds today?

Changbin was done pouring the egg fried rice into a bowl by the time you were almost done contemplating the true motif behind the extra bed. You were deep in your little world, your chin perched up on the heel of your palm and your eyes glaring at the table like you just stubbed your toe with it. He laughed to himself, wondering why a simple question required such serious thinking as he put the bowl in front of you.

“Hey!” He hushed as he tapped your nose with the hand tip of the spoon. When your eyes finally focused at him, he flashed you an amused smile. “What did you do, kid? You didn’t offend the prince, did you?” 

You glared at him as he gestured towards the fried rice before you. Taking the spoon from his hand, you shook your head and stabbed the utensil in the food, mixing it around before shoving a spoonful in your mouth. It was then when you decided to respond to him, “Why would he send me an extra bed if I offended him, Changbin?”

“Hey, I’m just asking!” He flicked your forehead after washing his hands at the sink. “And please, heavens, [Name], eat with your mouth closed.”

The droplets flickered down your faced and you wiped them away with your hand, continuing to eat without muttering another word. Just as Changbin suspected, you were extremely hungry, and watching you stuff too much food in your cheeks was the only joy he experienced today. 

He pulled out a stool from underneath the counter and sat down. His heart was clenching at the sight of you, eating freely with rice stuck to the corner of your mouth and spoon shamelessly clanking against the bowl. And he couldn’t tell if he was more remorseful or glad that he was able to be given a second chance as such. 

Changbin has never told you his past before and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell you for sometime. He wondered how you would react to it. He wondered how you would react to him having a child outside the palace, one he wasn’t allowed to see because he chose the palace life instead of his past lover. 

He regretted his choice, but back then choosing to work in a palace is a much reliable and stable job than anything else in his little town. He was young back then and it didn’t occur to him that there were other options open. The castle was the way for him and he just left.

Now his lover has moved on, his child has never met him before, and he has lost his title as a dad. 

A father, yes, but certainly not a dad. 

He was afraid you would realize how much he was projecting his guilt and reminiscence on you. Ever since you first got introduced to him, your childish and bratty antics kept growing on him until he found out how he was getting a taste of how it would be like to take care of a kid he never got to raise. 

He hasn’t really stopped treating you like kin since then, even though he knew you’re not his child. 

It was a battle with himself. For once, he couldn’t accurately guess how you would react to something, and he was scared that you could possibly be repulsed by it, so he kept putting off explaining whenever your curiosity strikes and you ask about his past. But he hoped he’d be able to come forth one day, and properly thank the lord for bringing you to him because he couldn’t imagine how much he’d still dwell in his past.

“Changbin! Stop being weird!” You finally yelled, kicking him under the table as you glared at him in mild concern. He had been staring at you eat, so intently you almost thought he was looking at the castle ghost behind you. “What the hell are you looking at? The air?”

“I was just thinking about something,” he responded in disbelief, surprised at your sudden toe. “Am I not allowed to think anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, you did,” you said, pointing at him with the spoon before bringing it to your bowl and scooping up a spoonful of rice. You stuffed it in your mouth before speaking, his previous scolding completely leaving your brain. “What are you thinking about?”

“How disgusting it is to speak with a mouthful of food.” Changbin smiled pointedly at you, causing you to groan out in annoyance. 

And, like he suspected, your spiteful-self immediately started to shove your cheeks full of rice before you started rambling nonsense. He could barely understand your words, your voice completely muffled by the food in your cheeks and with your trying to speak without spilling anything. You looked goofy and ugly, and he could go on. 

Your rebellious act came to a quick halt when a piece of rice rolled down your throat unexpectedly. You choked, feeling an itch in your throat that prompted you to cough like you were on your death bed. 

Changbin burst into laughter as he watched your face go red. In the midst of you hitting your chest repeatedly, he asked, “Do you want some water?”

You threw the spoon at him, in which he blocked with one arm held up to his face. His laughter only increased while your coughs slowed down to a gentle trail, and he got off the stool so he could pour you a small cup of water. You quickly snatched the cup away from him, dunking down the liquid and sighing dramatically when you were finished.

You slammed the cup down on the table then, your head turning sharply to him as your eyes glazed over with an irritated burn. “I could have died.”

“But you didn’t.” Changbin shrugged. “I told you to eat with your mouth closed.”

“There is no correlation to me choking on food and me eating with my mouth closed,” you retorted as you jumped off the chair and went to grab yourself an extra spoon. “I can still choke on food even if I’m eating properly.”

“Really? Care to show me?”

You dropped the spoon in the bowl and smiled up at him. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You can do that after you finish the food,” he said, pointing at your bowl. “Come on, it shouldn’t be taking you this long to finish eating a small bowl of fried rice.”

“If you wanna go sleep, you can just leave,” you mentioned, giving him a light-hearted shrug to further prove the point that you didn’t really care much for company at the moment.

“And have you use it against me later? No thanks, you’re gonna say I left you alone in the kitchen or something,” he grumbled, leaning his head against his hand and scoffing.

You didn’t say anything this time as you’ve got food in your mouth, and you’d rather not repeat that embarrassing, hazardous incident once more. But you did roll your eyes at him, indirectly telling Changbin that he was being dramatic and that you would never do such a terrible thing.

(Except you would, and he knew that you would.)

The kitchen was rendered silent again. The only sound resonating across each corner was the faint noise of your teeth clicking against the wooden spoon and your occasional chewing noise. Changbin looked at you again, his gentle eyes grazing past your cheeks and your small hands. His mind flew back to his home, but he doesn’t really see the faces he used to see anymore. 

Like kin, even though he knew you’re not his child–

He felt fine staying in the palace. And he was fine with taking care of you here.

–well, you were damn well the closest thing he has to one. 

Chan could see you racing towards him from faraway. Trailing slowly behind you was Changbin, his hands holding onto two filled water buckets. 

He kept his eyes on the mailman despite your speedy approach, his polite smile never fading as he patiently waited for the old man to take out all the letters—the ones addressed to the palace from the citizens—from his big, dirty pouch bag. He was the third of the many town mailman that would come by today with complaints or family letters, and Chan could recognize him well to the the mailman from your town.

He sure hoped there was something of your interest in that god forsaken bag today. More specially a family letter, one which you have been waiting for since the past two months.

“That is all for today. There is quite a lot to go through, I’m afraid.” The mailman’s hoarse voice gave Chan a gentle stung, it reminded him of his old man back home who had passed away without a last goodbye. He didn’t even realize the weight on his hands until he looked down to find his once empty basket to now be filled with envelopes. 

“Thankfully, I only sort the letters,” Chan joked lightheartedly as he bowed to the mailman. “Court business is completely out of my field of specialty.”

“Well then, my regards to the crown prince,” the mailman said, dipping his hat with an old and trembling hand. “He is going to have to deal with an entire kingdom soon, and I sure do hope he will become a good king.”

Chan only flashed the mailman a purse-lipped smile. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to insinuate, and he had not the faintest idea whether the king and the palace council were doing a splendid job in running the kingdom. While they seemed to be satisfying the rich and the royal, he could not tell if they were also minding to the average and the poor.

He was only a butler. He has lived in the palace and enjoyed as much luxury his job status could give him for a long while. Whatever goes on outside the palace life, he wouldn’t know and neither would have the time to sit down and chat about it.

“I shall see you next week again, sir,” he replied with a polite bow. “Thank you for your delivery, once again.”

“Of course,” the mailman said, a hint of laughter evident in his voice. “There isn’t much clumsy old me can do but send some letters these days. Gives me something to do after my wife passed away, and I like seeing you kids run around working sometimes.”

Chan wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he smiled and he waited for the mailman to take his leave. He listened for the creaking of the folding step, the gentle whipping of a horse’s back, and finally the stuttering movement of those round wheels bringing the mailman back on its path to the palace gate. 

His eyes trailed after the envelopes in the basket; another batch he has to go through so he could separate the complaint letters from the family mails sent to the staffs (royal letters are sent by designated palace messengers, not mailmen). The silver seals all sat prettily, some unevenly, on top of the white papers, and Chan could not help but admire them for a while.

That was, until your loud voice rang through his ears.

“Chan! Chan! Bang Chan!”

You bratty kid, why were you calling him by his full name again?

Calculating his timing just right, the second he stood up from his bowing position, he stretched his arm out before his chest and turned to the side. Your springing legs were forced to a quick stop as his the heel of his palm met your forehead, and you stumbled back when he lightly shoved at your head for you to back off.

“[Name], what did I say about addressing me by my full name?” He asked, exhausted from all the nagging you never listened to. “And you have to yell it this time? What if the king hears it? Do you understand how awkward it would be for me to have to explain the commotion to him?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed and completely uninterested in what he has to lecture you about palace manners. Changbin has done a great deal of that already, not that any of his warnings has helped in any way. “Oh, whatever, the king is old! He’s probably going deaf at this point!”

“[Name]!”

“No point talking to them, Chan. This kid never listens.” Changbin’s gruff voice appeared from behind you. He set down his water buckets, the ones the maid asked him to fill up using the water pump from outside the front yard, and he quickly whacked you across the head. 

Ignoring your whines of curses, he looked at Chan dead in the eye then, something of a veteran father whose dealt with his child’s antics for too long and has become immune to them. “You gotta smack them.” 

Chan widened his eyes. You seemed more agitated than before, your eyes glaring daggers and impossible profanity spilling out of your lips like a mantra. He met eyes with Changbin, who ignored you completely with a smile. The disbelief in Chan’s eyes almost made him laugh; Chan has only ever met you under the warm and comfortable atmosphere of the palace, of course he wouldn’t expect you to be such a vulgar child.

“For the record, I didn’t teach them this,” Changbin mentioned as he pointed at you, and you smacked his hand away with an annoyed groan. “Weeks of scraping cow shit at the barn taught them this, which, for the record–“ he turned to look at you before shifting his attention back to Chan,“–you should probably keep chef Park in check.”

Chan raised a brow, curious to the reason why Changbin felt the need to lower his voice, and to why he was asked to keep an eye out of chef Park. He knew almost every staff working in the palace; perhaps not in detail for every single one of them, but he remembered their names and their families. Chef Park has never come across as trouble to him before, he wondered why.

“I will,” he said dubiously, but he kept the thought in mind.

“Good.” Changbin flashed him a nod, and then he sighed. He reached down to lift up the water buckets again, a huff leaving his lips. “I’m gonna head back and hand these to the maids. I’ll meet you back in the kitchen, okay?”

You gave him a brief nod and an annoyed grumble, still quite mad that he decided to smack you across the head. Changbin scoffed out a faint smile before he turned away, leaving you to talk to Chan about what you needed to ask him for. Chan spared a short glance at Changbin’s back before he turned his attention back to you, his brows furrowing.

“Where did you two come from?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

You shrugged. “Outside the palace gate where the water pumps are.”

“And that’s a two person job?” 

“Well, it… was…” you sheepishly twisted your feet against the ground, your fingers finding each other before your abdomen. A childish smile slowly graced your face and you looked to Chan hesitantly. “But then I got tired holding the bucket so–“

“You made Changbin hold them for you,” Chan muttered with a deadpan manner. 

“Technically speaking, I didn’t make him do it,” you defended confidently, speaking in a factual tone. “I kept whining about how much my arms were hurting and then he decided to take my bucket to shut me up.”

He sighed then, his eyes rolling to the side as his head shook. Not in disbelief, that was something Changbin would totally do for you. It was in defeat in the wake that there was probably no winning for him in any sorts of situation. 

“He should have smacked your head and told you to carry it yourself,” Chan commented. 

“This is why I don’t like you that much,” you confessed, both honestly and as a joke.

“Oh sure, you don’t,” he announced to himself, his voice holding a hint of magnificence in them as if he was mocking his opponent in an argument. Shaking the basket in his hands, Chan glanced down at it with a smile before he looked back up at you. “I guess none of these letters are of any importance to you as well?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” You exclaimed as you leaned down to push at the edge of the basket until it hit the floor. Standing back up straight, you gave Chan a faint smile before you said, “I just want to see if my mom sent me a letter, since she hasn’t sent one in a long time.”

Chan hummed in thought, his eyes rolling skyward as he recalled the past months. He did remember handing you letters from your parents for a time period. It started with thick envelopes that would be delivered weekly, then as time passed by the letters became thinner with more time spaced out in between each reply. He couldn’t remember when you stopped receiving them, but he knew at some point, the reply stopped.

“I mean, I guess it was kind of my fault for not writing to my mom for almost a whole month once,” you mumbled to yourself, rubbing your hands together. “But that was a busy month for us. You would remember, right, when the duchess came to visit and we had a royal ball!”

That was the first time you were given the opportunity to make a plate of dessert on your own. Chef Park probably hated the idea of letting you in charge of a full plate of dessert, but the kitchen had needed to prepare a long table full of snacks for the ball, and there had not been enough pastry chefs to go around.

You had been instructed to make some sugary cookies for the ball, but with you being you, instead of making a boring plate of common dessert, you have decided to make honey jasmine macaroons instead. Not that sugary cookies are bad, but you would much love to bake something that could match the bubbly, extravagant atmosphere of a royal ball. 

Long story short, your plate of macaroons was licked clean by the guests, but chef Park hadn’t factored that into consideration and simply scolded you for disobeying him. Sometimes you would like to think that he was simply being envious of your ability, hence the reason why he didn’t tell anybody about the people liking your macaroons.

After that day, you haven’t been able to bake for the royals on your own until the rosewater cream puffs.

“Oh, yeah, I do remember,” Chan said, nodding. “Did you stop writing to your mother after that?”

“Well, I stopped writing during the time the duchess was living here,” you replied, calculating the timeline in your head. “But after that month, it took me longer to bounce back to writing a letter, so I think it was a little more than a month. I did write her a letter eventually, but I haven’t heard anything from her after that letter.”

He hummed thoughtfully, understanding your situation but not being able to explain to you why you haven’t received a reply letter yet, because he had no idea either. The only thing he could do was to make suggestions, some kind of excuse like your letter getting lost or your mother being too busy with the flower shop. Or, even better, he could try and look through the new basket of letter and see if your mother had sent you one back.

Looking down at the basket, a frown slowly made its way to Chan’s face as his mind processed just how many letters were in the basket. It would take a long while for him to shift through all of them just to separate the letters for the court and those for the staffs. Then he would have to find the letter sent by your mother specifically before he could hand it to you.

He was still in the middle of going through the first basket, a process he would hope not to interrupt. He wouldn’t want to mess up the areas from which the letters came from, considering how the court solve the complaints from one town to another instead of doing so altogether. Therefore, just to eyeball how long it would take him to find out if there is a letter for you, it would take at least an hour.

“Well, I will make sure to keep an eye out for your letter,” he said, glancing back up at you.

“What–can’t I get it now?” You whined. 

“Are you going to look through the whole pile now?” He asked, holding the basket up to you. “Because there are a lot of letters. You might accidentally skip through yours if you rummage through it, so it’s better to wait for me to pick them out and divide them first.”

You grumbled under your breath impatiently, your lips pursing into a hard line as your brows furrowed childishly. “Ahh, but how long is that going to take? I wanna know if my mom wrote me something so I won’t have to think about it!”

“I know, but I still have other work to do around the palace and this isn’t my only basket,” Chan said, his voice low in a coaxing way. 

And he knew you understood how busy it could get for him around the palace. The unsatisfied expression that lingered on your face was just there for you to vent, it didn’t particularly mean anything and he didn’t have to take it to heart. Except he always does, not severely but having to see you get let down weekly for the past months has made him grow susceptible to your angsty features.

Softening, Chan let go on one side of the basket and he pinched your cheek gently. “I’m sorry, but I promise I will try and get through it all as fast as I can,” he told you, with all the sincerity in his voice. 

“Hmm… Fine.” You pursed your lips together with a nod, leaning your face away from his hand. “I have to go back to work now, I’ll see you later.”

“You can count on it,” he said, his hand reaching back down to pick up the basket handle.

Flashing him a small smile, your legs brought you a few steps backward before you finally turned around and headed to the backyard. Your steps picked up, and Chan watched your back fade until you disappeared into the discreet corner of the palace. He looked down at the basket of letters then, his forehead creasing in a moment of thought.

Please be in there. He hoped. Please let your mother’s letter be in there.

You had planned to head straight back into the kitchen, but the sight of Changbin chatting with the maids by the laundry poles made you stop. With amusement, you found a spot under the shade of the old tree and you watched on, finding immense fascination in seeing the way he discreetly—almost discreetly—flirted back with the young maids. 

Perhaps it was you who never paid enough attention. Granted, you didn’t get to see much of Changbin interacting with other people. Whenever you were present in the picture, he was always too busy trying to keep you in check, he’s got no time to really speak with others. It was a peculiar sight, one that you planned to tease him about when he decided to leave the backyard and head back to the kitchen soon.

As you turned, preparing to flee before he could see you looking with awful, stupid intentions, a hand tapped at your shoulder and you spun around. The smile that welcomed you was familiar, you just saw it this morning when you woke up, and you quickly returned it as Felix waved excitedly at you.

“Hey, Lix,” you greeted as you eyed him up and down, your brows slowly furrowing at the dirt stained on his cheeks. His shirt was wrinkled, which you didn’t notice this morning but you were sure it hadn’t been as bad as it looked now. “What have you been doing?”

“We went out to the forest to gather more woods for the next few weeks,” he replied after heaving a sigh, exhausted from all the labor work he’d done all morning. “The court prophet said something about a thunderstorm coming so we were asked to fetch more wood for fire, since we won’t be able to head out if the storm actually hits.”

“A thunderstorm,” you snorted, your eyes widening a fraction at such an absurd idea. Whatever would happen to the weather in the middle of a hot summer, a thunderstorm was the last thing you would have predicted. “I wonder why. The North star clashed against the moon, perhaps?”

“Oh, [Name], you know I’m not one for analysing the stars,” Felix laughed out, rubbing his rough hands together and reaching a hand up to swipe at his face. “But I don’t mind a thunderstorm, I won’t have to head outside for duty for once. You, though–“

“I’m not afraid of storms,” you cut him off quickly with a roll of your eyes. 

You knew he would bring that night up. The thunderstorm approached during the middle of the night, when the palace has become quiet and empty. It was loud, and since the dormitory part of the palace was built differently—with lesser care, one could say—it made everything sound like they entered an echo chamber.

You weren’t terrified, but being away from the comfort of your own home and stuck sleeping on a foreign bed was nightmarish enough for you to be afraid of it that roaring night. Felix had awakened with the sound of whimpers, and he happily stayed up with you that night. 

“The echos of the palace walls simply scared me too much last time, but I promise you I am not afraid of a little storm.” You said, slightly annoyed. 

Felix could only laugh, his hand still furiously wiping at his cheek because he had no idea of knowing if he had gotten rid of the dirt. “Well, we’ll see when another one strikes us within these weeks,” he said.

“You will find your accusation incorrect,” you said as you reached up to swat his hand away. A frown adorned your face as you gently scrubbed off the black dirt on his freckled cheeks, a click of your tongue displaying your annoyance. “And for the love of god, bring a wet towel with you at all times.”

“But they’re heavy.”

“They’re clean and cool,” you said. “Good for wiping your face and good for the hot weather.”

Felix hummed in doubt, unsure if he was fully convinced to take an extra object with him to finish his duty. He didn’t much like the idea of having wet trails down his back, especially when he would be draping the towel over his shoulders instead of holding onto it. So he retorted with something that made you both frown and laugh.

It was an endearing frown, perhaps due to the laughter Hyunjin could almost hear from the other side of the yard where the grass field was. It was a spot far from where the chores were, but not far enough for the workings to be invisible to the eye. He and Minho sat under the tree, the shade covering most of their body besides their feet that poked out from the shadow.  

Minho wanted to find a place to sit down and write his second love letter to Princess Rose, but when Hyunjin suggested for a trip to the garden, Minho only grimaced about the dullness of it. It was always the garden. He wanted somewhere else, a new place where he could get inspirations from. 

Hyunjin wasn’t very sure what Minho thought could be inspiring about watching the palace staffs run around washing clothes and transporting woods, but alas, Minho sat down under the large tree and began tapping his pen on the parchment paper. He followed suit without much complaints. It wasn’t like he’s got anything better to do around the palace anyway. It was either he leave for his home, or he stays here and follows Minho around. 

The letter Minho was writing has been blank for a while. He kept pressing the tip of his pen against it but never actually scribbled anything down. His mind short-circuits every time he is about to write something; just when he thinks his brain had thought of something worth-while, his heart tells him to hesitate.

Hyunjin was done persuading him that the letter would be nothing more than a mere draft, that he need not hold any fear. Pretend it like a diary and simply let his feelings flow, Hyunjin told Minho, but the advice was not taken with each huffs of heavy sigh leaving the prince’s mouth. And Hyunjin was quite tired of trying to rid Minho of his anxiety, so what he did was that he turned away from his frowning cousin.

The sight that welcomed him was you, almost immediately within the crowd of similarly dressed palace staffs. And he was happy to see you. You stood under the shade in your natural glory, as always, and you were grinning towards a direction Hyunjin couldn’t bother to tear his gaze away to check. 

He was debating if he wanted to pull you out of work once again, just so he could spend some time to talk to you. He has the power to do that, and if he doesn’t then Minho certainly does. But whatever excuse was he supposed to give to get you out of the kitchen? He didn’t want to come off annoying. He was also too shy to drop hints that might indicate his fondness toward you.

He could think about something work related! Perhaps another dessert that he wanted to eat? He was very fond of those cream puffs you made, he would love to try out the other desserts. 

The dreamy smile on his face was permanent for a long while until Felix showed up. His smile gradually faded as his eyes watched your friendly interaction, and his plump lips pursed into a thin line as a bitter taste dropped at the tip of his tongue.

Annoyed, and definitely jealous. Annoyed because he couldn’t blame Felix for being friends with you and he couldn’t blame you two for being close friends, jealous because, well, obviously because he has a majorly, royally problematic crush on you. 

“Hey! Lover boy!” 

Hyunjin slowly looked to his side. The nickname Minho just playfully gave him not settling on his good side whatsoever. He needn’t be reminded of how terrible his crush on you was going; not to mention he barely had any chance to begin with. His royal status was a screw-up from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Minho stared at his cousin for a short while before he breathed out a defeated sigh. He had pretended to not notice Hyunjin’s infatuation for a long time. It all started with his unusually frequent visits to the palace; something Minho deemed solely because Hyunjin and his parents’ relationship was never the best. But things changed when he realized how observant he has become.

Hyunjin wouldn’t spare the palace halls another glance, so when he started to look around the corners as if searching for something, or someone, Minho’s suspicion started to raise as well. He didn’t know when he concluded that Hyunjin has fallen for somebody in the palace, he just knew he did. And it was only recently when he finally found out who the token staff was.

Those rosewater cream puffs really caught the boy by the throat. 

“You like [Name],” Minho pointed out boldly.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and scoffed. He leaned his elbow on the knee of his crossed legs, putting his chin on top of his palm as he stared ahead at you. His mood went even more sour when he watched Changbin ruffle the both of your heads. 

Jeez, make it look more like a family, why wouldn’t you? The scene looking exactly like you three were having the “Oh, hey, I brought my boyfriend home!” kind of conversation—ugh! He could shiver in annoyance just from thinking about it. 

Hyunjin looked away from you, a huff brushing past his lips strongly as he spoke, “This pisses me off!”

“What pisses you off?” 

“This! This stupid, invisible crown on my head!” He gestured towards his hair, his finger going in a circular motion. Then he shifted down to complain about his silky clothes, and his gold belt, and his cotton socks matched with leather shoes. He hated all of it, anything that labeled him as a prince he despised. 

���Would you rather walk around in thin rags then?” Minho shrugged, smiling in amusement. His attention was focused on the letter in his hand. When he scribbled something down, he held it up to Hyunjin’s hand to stop him from replying. “What do you think about this?”

Hyunjin yelped, swatting Minho’s hand away before snatching the paper from his hand. He carefully glanced at the paper, rereading the sentence his cousin wrote at least three times before he grimaced with an honest answer. “Good, but change the structure, it doesn’t sound eloquent enough.” 

“I was thinking maybe I can express the insanity I feel through incoherent sentence structures,” Minho hummed, receiving the letter just as Hyunjin huffed out a disapproving grunt.

“You’re not the person to pull that off,” Hyunjin commented.

“I’m not,” Minho dragged out in acceptance, running the pencil across the sentence before he placed the paper back on his knee. He twirled the pencil between his fingers, his brows furrowed, then he jumped back on the original topic. “You know the materials they wear can’t keep you warm during winter, right?”

“They can’t–they can’t?” Hyunjin borderline yelled, the panic slightly bubbled up his head. He glared at Minho, his brows furrowed in concern. “Hello–what if they get sick? Do you guys at least distribute extra duvets?”

Minho didn’t answer his question. The sheer fact that Hyunjin has the capability to care and to question the treatment palace staffs receives was startling enough for him. It was not to say Hyunjin would be so heartless not to care about other people, he was a boy with a kind soul, but he also was not brought up to think too deeply about people unlike him. 

He would give sympathy to those less fortunate than him, but his mind wouldn’t register the option the help if he wasn’t there to witness the problem himself. 

“You know how much of a problem it is for you to like them, right?” Minho spoke, turning to look at the working maids. His eyes were careful as he scanned past them all, his head unable to name a single one of them but still could recognize a few faces he has seen multiple times before. “You and [Name]. It’s not an easy match. The royal court won’t allow this.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips together. His chest was burning at the truth, hating it with all the might his lean body could muster. “They don’t have to allow it. I doubt [Name] will develop any feelings for me anyway.”

“Oh? That’s an interesting view,” Minho said, widening his eyes at the letter. “Why so?”

Hyunjin sat in silence for a moment, his mind working to think up a reason. It was all tangled in his head; there wasn’t just one reason, there were plenty, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn’t know where he should start. Should he start from problems steaming from him, or problems steaming from everybody around you?

Just to name a few right off the bat: your statuses were different, he was born with royal blood while you were born as a commoner. Not only would royalties from all the neighbouring kingdoms give him the sting eye for falling in love with someone much lower than him, his parents and his relatives likely won’t allow it as well. 

His bloodline was a huge, painful problem; an unbreaking stick in all of his relationships, platonic or romantic.

Now, setting his royal status aside, who was to say that you’d fall in love with him? Hyunjin knew he was good-looking since everyone around him told him that ever since growing up, and he’d like to believe he’s got enough charisma to charm the other equally rich, if not richer, marriage candidates from other kingdoms. But nobody has ever talked of his personality before.

Long story short, Hyunjin hasn’t done anything outstanding as a mere prince. Every charitable accomplishments were credited back to the king, as it should be because the king (and his council) regulates everything. He has taken no part in political or social management of his kingdom even though he was born as the crown prince. 

What if he wasn’t good enough? How would he know if his personality was the type that would make people fall in love with him? He wouldn’t be able to tell. Even in royal marriage, almost everything was arranged or based on economic measures. Royalties don’t like each other for who they are, he learned that the hard way. And no one has ever told him he’s got a killer personality, at least not genuinely, he supposed.

You have told him he was charming, but you didn’t know him. He might not be somebody you would want to have around. 

“I barely spend time with them,” Hyunjin replied casually after the spacious, panicking round of overthinking in his head. He licked his lower lip, discarded the thoughts in his head, and he picked himself up. “You can’t fall in love with people you’ve never spend time with. I would want to get to know the person more and more, just have them reveal everything to me as time goes.”

Because wouldn’t that be so nice? To reveal yourself to someone who’s willing to stay. 

“Well, aren’t you a romantic,” Minho grinned out, finding amusement in the way Hyunjin seemed to be turning into some sappy, all knowing lover of the century just because he, too, has fallen in love with somebody. 

And Hyunjin was always rolling his eyes and scoffing at Minho for being overdramatic about everything regarding the princess—the audacity. 

Hyunjin could only scoff. The laugh he let out was sardonic at best because he didn’t know what other reaction he could have. How does one properly display defeat? Through what kind of expression could he use to show that he felt stupid for still letting himself fall even though he knew that the relationship would end in nothing, just nothing. 

But it wasn’t like he had a choice. Hyunjin’s heart has always done what it wanted to do; if it wanted to fall in love, it would do so disregarding all types of circumstances. He was a boy who’s got his heart thrusted out for everyone, full and beating. He couldn’t change it, he just fell for you. 

Hearing the lack of response from him, Minho turned away from the love letter in his hands and he glanced at Hyunjin briefly. There was this dazed look on his face, a blank but remorsefully thoughtful look. He could tell Hyunjin was beating himself up over liking a palace staff, one who didn’t even serve his own kingdom too!

Sympathy surfaced in Minho’s chest. He wondered how that felt. He wondered how it was like to fall in love with someone so blatantly out of your reach, someone who was accustomed to putting up a wall between yourselves due to the status quo, someone who your family and your subjects wouldn’t approve.

Minho wondered how it felt to fall in love with someone who could’t reciprocate the feeling for so many reasons, and despite all the power the crown holds, there is still nothing to be done.

It must be exhausting. 

“I’ll support you two.” 

Putting the paper and pen down to indicate that this would turn into a rather serious conversation. He sat up, crossed-legged with a confident smile as he watched you vanished into the palace with Changbin. Minho knew, subconsciously, that he still held certain ill-feeling towards what you’ve done to his love letter, albeit if was for his own sake. And he has to admit, he has known you for no more than a long, embarrassing conversation of you lecturing him about the topic of love.

But he was so sure, somehow, that you are definitely no so bad of a love interest for Hyunjin. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

Minho turned to him, the grinning softening on his face. “I said I’ll support you two. When I become king one day and I’m in power, I’ll publicly display my encouragement for you, seeing that you do successfully woo the brat in the future." 

Hyunjin physically brightened at his words, finding solace in knowing that while knowing his romantic goals might be far-fetched, Minho stood with him instead of going against his wishes. It was nice to be able to get it all off his chest; having to hide that he was in love with a kitchen staff around the palace with watchful eyes and soundless walls was terrible. He’d hate to have the news spread all over the place.

Bringing his legs up to his chest, Hyunjin smiled ahead of him, watching the maids move around with laundries baskets in their hands. He scanned their faces, none of them able to reach your level of gracefulness when you walked and the brightness of your smile as you talked to others.

“I want to be able to fall in love with who I want to,” he said with a faint smile. “I want to be able to fall in love with [Name].”

Minho hummed, “You can. Didn’t you already?”

Hyunjin felt a sickening rush of affection consume his veins, the thought of you fulfilling his head. The butterfly, the cream puffs, the single leaf on his hair. His smile widened; Minho was right, he already did.

#skzwritersclub #fluffyskzclub #stayhavennet #inkidz #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #chan imagines #changbin imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin x you #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know scenarios

[candycityy]

Hii, Candy! For the Drabble Challenge, 12 and 19 😊

(You can also read this on AO3!)

Newlywed bliss, Levi decides, is sort of like a bubble. Or a vacuum, pick your metaphor.

You get so caught up in the sheer wonder of the whole situation, of shared touches and delirious smiles and and waking up with the love of your life sprawled unglamourously beside you, open-mouthed and drooling and just thoroughly adorable, and your heart swells and you can't think and you forget that the world hasn't stopped spinning on its axis for you and you alone.

In other words, Levi pleads insanity.

So when Petra walks into the drawing room one day with a frozen look on her face, one that's equal parts terror and bewilderment and something else that he can't quite discern, he doesn't know what to think. And then she says it.

"Levi," she says, "I'm pregnant."

Just two words, and his world is upended. He think Petra says something after, but he doesn't hear her; blood roars in his ears, his breath is stuck in his throat, and for the first time in his life, he finds himself shocked into utter silence.

And he realises, that third emotion in her face that he hadn't recognised earlier: it's happiness. A wild, fierce joy, a bewildered and terrified joy, but a joy nonetheless.

His head spins, and he feels, incomprehensibly, the urge to lie down. "Pregnant," he echoes. His voice is hoarse, ragged. "Petra, that's..."

He trails off. He doesn't know what to say. Incredible? Ridiculous? Impossible? Petra seems to recognise the tumult in his thoughts, though, because her expression shifts into a kind of defensive stubborness. As if by instinct, her arms curl over her still-flat abdomen, protective.

"Look," she begins, "I know we hadn't planned on this so early, but if you're thinking of—"

"No," he says. His voice is harsh, decisive, and he takes a small step towards her. "I'm not. Petra, I'm sorry, I was just...surprised. I wouldn't...ask you to hurt it. I would never."

She swallows. Her gaze searching, tentative. "Then...you're okay? You're not mad? Or upset?"

"I don't know how I feel," he says honestly. "I don't know shit about being a parent. Maybe I'll screw it all up, I don't know that either. And I'll be real, this is fucking terrifying." Petra laughs. The sound is like broken glass.

"But," he takes a step towards her, "I know I'll try my damned hardest to protect it. Give it a good life. I mean..." His eyes never move away from her stomach. "It's our baby."

His voice cracks on the two words, and that's all she needs. She almost falls into him, sobbing and laughing all at the same time. "Levi, I'm so scared," she whispers. She sounds dreamy, incredulous; enchanted. "A baby. We made a baby."

Levi's never been sure of anything; his life has been a maze of choice, of possibilities, of maybes and what-ifs. But as he stares down at Petra, her arms still wrapped around her middle, he feels a surge of something fierce and unfamiliar in his chest, something almost painful in its acuteness, and he knows, without a doubt: he would die for this stirring of life that drifts, still blind to the world, in his wife's womb.

==

The first time he tells someone, it's entirely by accident.

They're all hanging out in the lounge, like most nights; they haven't told Erwin, and Petra reckons it's better to wait a little, just in case. Eld and Auruo are bickering away as usual, and somehow, the topic turns to one of their colleagues, who recently put in a request to switch to the Garrison after his wife became pregnant.

"I mean, I get why," Eld says, his lip curling, "I just don't get how. Sitting around on the walls, getting drunk and playing cards all day...I'll never understand."

"Your fiancée might like that, though, wouldn't she," Auruo taunts. The other man rolls his eyes.

"Aria knows I'll never leave the Survey Corps. I plan to live till the ripe old age of seventy and die in a blaze of glory as Supreme Commander, thank you very much."

"Supreme Commander isn't even a title, you ass," Gunther goes from across the room, looking up from his book. "But pregnancy...that's a whole lot of responsibility, isn't it? How do you just go off and risk your life every day, with a kid waiting at home for you?"

Levi's stomach churns suddenly, his dinner threatening to make a reappearance, and his face suddenly feels very hot. He fights to keep his expression carefully blank, but Petra's eyes catch his, narrowing with concern.

"And that's how you ruin a life. Congratulations," Auruo concludes wisely.

"Hey," Petra retorts sharply, "that's not true. Being a dad doesn't mean your life ends, you know. You can still be a soldier, and fight, and everything."

Auruo leers at her. "It's different for you, Pet. Mothers have options...but fathers, they gotta provide for their families, woman. Dying...leaving your wife and kid to fend for themselves...it's not done." Eld and Gunther nod agreement, and Petra makes a face, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, 'sexist cows'.

Levi doesn't know what possesses him in that instant. His throat is dry, and he's so lightheaded he feels numb, almost disembodied. He stands up abruptly, and announces, "Petra and I are expecting."

The silence that follows is palpable, thick enough to choke on. He can feel Petra's eyes as Auruo begins to sputter apologies and retractions—"I only meant—but of course, you wouldn't die and leave your kid alone, captain! You're humanity's strongest, after all! You'd never..."

He's still stammering away when Levi turns on his heel without a word, and walks out of the room.

==

The candle in his room has melted into a stump of wax when Petra finds him, later that night.

"Hey," she says softly. She's changed into her nightgown, and her hair, still damp from the showers, tumbles into the hollow of her collarbone. In the dim light of the candle, she looks pale and fragile; hollowed cheekbones, shadowed eyes.

Something deep in his chest wrenches, and he opens his mouth, only to find that no words come out. But she seems to understand his expression; of course she does, she always does.

She walks over to the window, where he stands, staring out of the window, and wraps her arms around his back. They're so nearly the same height that it's a comfortable position for them, her face pressed into his shoulder, her hair brushing the curve of his cheek. They stay there for a few moments in a comfortable silence, just relishing in the wordless companionship.

Petra isn't a patient person by nature. But by now, she knows him; knows how the thoughts whirl insistently in his mind at the height of his emotion, unwilling to settle into the dust. So she waits, her warm breath reassuring on his neck, her heartbeat strong against his back.

He finally exhales. "Do you think they were right?" he asks. The words sound unnaturally loud in the silence of the night. When she doesn't reply immediately, he goes on, "I could...you know. I could join the Garrison, too, or the Military Police. Or leave the military. I could do other things. Erwin would understand, he'd help—"

"No." The word cuts through the room. Gently but firmly, Petra turns him around to face her. The moonlight casts her in silver, turning her into something luminous, ethereal—almost otherworldly.

"Levi, I love you more than anything in this stupid world." Her expression is fierce, intent. "And I won't let you do that. You belong here, in the Survey Corps. And I do, too."

"But just say—"

"I'm not fragile, Levi," she shoots back, her eyes burning with a familiar fire. "Sure, maybe I'm not strong the way you are, but I'm strong enough. I'm not saying I'd be okay if you died—of course I wouldn't—but I'd survive, and I'd keep our child alive, too. And I believe you'd do the same."

Something breaks in him, then, like the shattering of a glass, and he looks up. Petra is glaring at him with those burning eyes, and in that moment, she's so alive and beautiful, the love of his life, the mother of his unborn child. The realisation makes him stagger. He's never felt so complete; he's never had so much to lose.

Feeling as though the weight of the world sits on his shoulders, he nods.

Petra's answering smile is a promise, golden and honeyed and full of light. She draws him in tighter.

"Trust me," she whispers. Her presence is warm, solid, comforting. "Everything will be all right."

Drabble challenge!

#end open to interpretation WINKS #thank u for the prompt anya i hope this didn't disappoint;;; #rivetra #levi x petra #attack on titan #levi ackerman #petra ral #aot fanfiction #candycity writes

[kikilefangirl]

Old Ties

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader

(Word Count: 1629)

This was your first time back from school since Christmas, and you missed home. You had elected to stay in an apartment near campus for the summer and rarely went back.

This was your birthday weekend, and you had to see your family and old friends after going so long without. Sometimes your mom joked you were too slippery to answer the phone, let alone stay on for long. It was true, with one notable exception: your baby brother Jamal.

“Y/N!” He hollered excitedly. You laughed when you pulled up because he had a fake neck brace on as his injury of the month. And his friends were there, all grown up.

“‘Mal! It’s so good to see you.”

“What about me?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“You too, Ruby. Monsé, look at you!” You praised. Then you were one off your count.

“Where’s Cesar?”

He was the only one missing from the group. Each kid had different emotions flash across their faces. Oh. You knew the feeling.

“Well get in, we’re going to get him.” You declared. They let out a chorus of protests and excuses, but you had already started the car.

“A seat has some of my bags in it, so one of y’all sitting in the middle.” You added.

You hadn’t been home five minutes and were already on your way to him. Indirectly, of course. All three kids piled in, and you drove off after a moan from Ruby about sitting in the middle seat.

“How do you know the way there?” Jamal asked skeptically. You gave him some throwaway response and put on some lip gloss.

You knew damn well why you expertly made the short drive to Spooky’s house, but they didn’t need to know that. Sooner that you were prepared to, you pulled up and hopped out.

You never once broke your stride past Santos and hynas. You heard your car doors slam, so the others were behind you, but you pressed on without soaring them a glance.

The music blasted along with the roar of engines and laughs from partygoers and clinking bottles. Your breath caught in your throat as you headed farther back in the driveway.

There he was, sitting down smoking a blunt next to him was Cesar. Damn, the kids had gotten older.

“Never thought I’d see you here.” Oscar said, finally.

He exhaled, and stood up not two feet away from you. Plump lips, intense brown eyes, no. You were never able to turn away from him.

Oscar was still fine as hell and you were losing focus.

“I came here to get Cesar.”

Not you.

The unsaid words were heavy between the two of you. Everyone who wasn’t drunk or oblivious could see the battle of wills going on. Even Cesar looked confused, and it was technically about him.

“He goes.” Oscar started, bringing a hand to your cheek, “You stay.”

Closure, you decided, was some bullshit because after two years of heartbreak and your determination to stay away...You accepted his trade.

Jamal, of course had heart palpitations the second a yes flew out your mouth. Ruby paled at the idea, and Monsé was staring at Cesar.

As soon as they left, it gave you some peace watching the four of them go off like they used to. Oscar struggled with the worst hand he could’ve been dealt, but his brother didn’t have to go through the same. Cesar was a different kid; Cesar was still somewhat allowed to be a kid.

Oscar put out his blunt and brought you inside.

You filled your eyes at the hoots and whistles from outside as you shut the screen door and then the real one.

You and Oscar were truly alone, now.

“How long before you’re gone, again.” He lamented, pulling out two beers from the fridge.

You winced at his words.

“The weekend.” You admitted. Spooky scoffed at you as he popped the top off of either bottle. He slid one over to you as you tapped your nails on the counter.

“Got over your little cholo phase and dipped, huh.” He spat out. You slammed your hand on the counter. Your palm stung from the impact, but your anger was more pressing.

“You know good and goddamn well that wasn’t it. Do I look like some white girl who took the wrong bus and got lost!” You roared at him.

He made it seem like an easy choice for you. That it was easy leaving everyone and everything for a whole new world you’d never even really seen before.

You flared your nostrils at Oscar, mostly to keep the tears at bay.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this shit, Osc. You gonna keep doing your Santo shit, and I’m supposed to what? Sit here popping out your babies so twenty years from now they supposed to do the same shit? You go down, and I don’t got nothing to stand on? No.”

You shook your head violently. No. No, no, no. You spied where he kept his good liquor and grabbed it. You guzzled as much as you could in one pass.

Oscar stood there watching you with a look you couldn’t care to decipher.

Modesty wasn’t exactly a priority between you two. You and Oscar dealt in the raw, honest truth. It was what cooled the two of you, and it was doing so now. You knew it and he knew it.

“You messing with anyone up there?” He asked. Oscar was steady in his slow, rolling voice. Never tentative, always patient.

“Nothing serious.” You admitted. There was a fling that lasted a couple weeks in May, a failed date or two, and a car hookup once. In short, no one was ever him.

“You?” You stared intently at him, searching his eyes for any hint he was holding back.

Oscar’s list of names was shorter than yours. And to your surprise, you let out a sigh of relief.

He smirked and put his hand over yours, squeezing it for reassurance.

“We’re okay.” He said and against all reason you believed him.

He leaned in closer, and pulled you into a hug.

But like the ass he was, Oscar chose a less romantic course. His breath fanned your neck, and you short circuited. You always went blank when Oscar was so close to you and he took full advantage.

You had the willpower of a goldfish.

You hopped up on the counter, the two of you exchanging hungry, passionate kisses, desperate to make up for lost time and old grievances.

...

You stayed at the house well into the night.

You sweated out your edges, smudged your makeup, and damn near limped back to your car. By the time you left, the party had gone somewhere else and the lot was quiet. Not even Cesar had returned.

You sat in your car and Oscar leaned into the window.

“Happy Birthday.” He said. You smiled and gave him a long kiss, savoring the memory of him. When you pulled away, you deflated.

“I’m going back to school on Monday.” You said softly. You drummed on the steering wheel.

“Then come back tomorrow.” He suggested. It wasn’t the same anymore. You two weren’t teenagers sneaking away during football games. His life was as real as yours, if not more. You held in the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m sorry, Osc. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

The silence that came next was deafening. You stared straight ahead and let the tears stream down your face with no abandon. A gentle hand wiped them away.

“No crying. You gotta go see the world for the both of us, ‘kay.” He told you. There was no bitterness or sadness in his eyes. Just love. Love for you, for him, and for everything the two of you went through together.

You let your forehead rest on his.

“I promise.” You whispered to him. At that, Oscar stepped back and you saw him in full view.

He nodded one last time, and you pulled off into the night.

...

“Oh. My. God. Is that a hickey? That’s a hickey. You let Spooky give you that! You could be infected with all kinds of diseases that will haunt you for the rest of your life!”

Jamal’s freakout made you crack a smile. He had only seen Oscar as the Santo Spooky, Cesar’s scary ass older brother. But you had known him since you were twelve and had been with him since you were fifteen.

“We had history, it’s over now. Chill out.” You replied.

“Damn it, Y/N you know I can’t fight, why would you put me in this position!” He barked out. You smiled.

“Oh I know you can’t fight, you know being a D1 athlete and all.” You teased. You knew he’d eventually work up the nerve to tell your parents the truth, but it was fun messing with him in the meantime.

“Okay seriously, are you and Spooky gonna keep--ew, I can’t say it.” He rambled. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Jamal, listen. I love Oscar and I always will. But we’ve outgrown each other. We grew up here, this our home, but you and I have stability and a way out that Oscar never had. Neighborhood will drag you back in and I can’t afford to do that. Grown decisions, ‘Mal.”

You plopped down on your bed, and stared at nothing. It really was over.

Jamal hugged you tightly, and you hugged him back. You hoped Cesar wouldn’t share his brother’s path. You had given up hope a long time ago that Oscar would. He couldn’t.

And it was cruel of you to hold onto him any longer, so you didn’t.

#black!reader #poc!reader #on my block #Oscar Diaz #spooky #spooky diaz #spooky diaz x reader #oscar diaz x reader #on my block fanfiction #julio macias #Oscar Diaz angst #sad ending sorry #spooky Diaz angst

[angelanimedesaray]

A Demon’s Promise Part 11:  Lights and Edges

AN:  There’s a bit of time jumping in this, across the span of a few months, cause this was going to get bogged down and drawn out if I was trying to write all this in detail, cause it was just a lot of general stuff, really slow plot, it wouldn’t have worked well.  So we’re jumping across the span of 7 ish months, and the next chapter is going to be around the 9 month point.

Characters:  Incubus!Levi, Reader, Ida, Asa, Isabel, Captain (You’ll see), Various BG Characters

Pairings:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language, Blood, Gore, Violence, Death, Brutal Death, Major Injury, some Angst, Mentions of Sexual Acts, Heavily Implied Sexual Acts.  But also Domestic Fluff and Dad!Levi :D

Word Count:  12674

<----Previous Part    Masterlist    Next Part---->

(Four Months Later)

*Reader’s POV*

You could have started small.  There were a thousand ways you could start trying to make things work with Levi.  But the first thing you did was try to force yourself not to hold the children hostage from him.  They were his children, too, and from what you could see, he loved them.  It wasn’t fair to him--cruel, even--that you kept the twins just out of his reach or sight more often than not, or you’d leave the room with them before he could even ask to hold them.

You needed to let him try to be a father.

You still didn't want him in your space, so if he asked to come in to do something, it was an automatic no.  You still needed boundaries, and that was your safe space, and he was going to stay out of it.

But when you left your room, you stayed conscious of natural excuses to let him hold the twins.  Maybe one of them needed changed.  You would ask him to feed one while you fed the other.  He seemed to be strangely pleased if he was asked to give them baths, which at first was just a gentle sponge bath in a special seat.  If your arms got tired or the wrap started to sit uncomfortably, you would pass them off to him to hold for a while.

Once he realized you were giving him opportunities to hold the twins, Levi stopped any and all pushing to be allowed around them, because you were giving him that time.  The most he ever did was offer help if you were struggling and hadn't yet thought to ask him for help.  Most of the time, you felt you had things pretty well handled.  But sometimes you were at the end of your rope and unable to figure out what it was that the twins wanted.  It was in those moments Levi tended to approach, stoically asking if he could try figuring out what they wanted.  Most of the time, they tended to calm down after a few minutes with him.

Which began to convince you that the twins just wanted time with their father.  And you weren't going to deny your twins that if it was what they wanted, as well.

So, gradually, over the first few months, you relaxed your grip, let Levi be with his children, let him wander the house with them, out of your sight.  He would take them both when you sat down to eat so you could have a peaceful dinner, or he would just take them for an hour or so just to be with them, usually reappearing when they were hungry or tired.  If they were tired and were going to do more than nap, he would bring them back to you so you could put them in their cribs in your room.  The cribs in his bedroom were still, at this point, unused.

By now, though, you were starting to trust him with the twins.  You'd seen him change around them, seen a bit of that indifferent exterior crack to reveal a surprisingly soft individual underneath.  You'd seen how gently and carefully he gave them their baths, how patiently he endured it if they were trying to gum his fingers, hair, or clothes--and how he discreetly washed his hands or changed his clothes afterwards, or how quick he was to keep dangerous objects out of their mouths 

Just because you saw how he was with the twins didn't mean everything between the two of you was magically fixed, though.  There was still tension between the two of you, though you were trying not to treat him like he was liable to go on a rampage and hurt you or the twins anymore.

Frankly, you were trying to pin down where that feeling came from in the first place.  Levi was a lot of things, but he'd never raised a hand to you, the twins--you'd never seen him physically threaten anyone.  You didn't want to admit it, but this concept that he was out to hurt you seemed to develop around the time you found out he was a demon.  Which meant it was probably entirely rooted in the fact he was a demon, which made you one hell of a hypocrite since your children were half-demon and would one day be full-demon, yet you held nothing against them and didn't fear any possible innate malice in them.

The duplicity made you hope maybe it was just rooted in how Levi had hurt you in the past in non-physical ways, and a fear with the reveal he was a demon and all those harsh words and suggestions that he didn't give a damn about you meant he might one day escalate to physical violence.

But again, he didn't show any signs.  It was just the fear you harbored in your mind, and he knew the fear was there.  He didn't complain, though.  He seemed to quietly accept and endure it.  He didn't react when you wouldn't let him touch you, or you flinched away if the two of you accidentally came into contact.  He never forced his presence upon you, and for the most part, made himself scarce and let you have your space.  But as much as that made you feel relieved, allowed some of the tension to drain out of your body...it also made you feel alone, in this giant strange house that wasn't yours.

That, oddly enough, was the next thing that you started to work on.  And it was from the stupidest whim, too, that you started to warm up to the house and finally, finally accept Levi’s statement that the house was yours to do with as you wished. 

The floor could be cold on your bare feet when you walked around the house, wood or stone, and one day when you found yourself reluctant to get off the couch because you were warm curled up with your feet on the cushions but the floor below was freezing in comparison, you'd wondered if any of those catalogs Levi kept updated in the bookshelf had rugs in them.

You went through the pile--new catalogs having replaced the ones that had been there when he'd initially showed them to you--and picked out the ones that looked like they might have some nice rugs in them.  You ignored the prices, just to test how far this offer actually went, and simply sought out one you liked best, marking the page and circling the item like Levi had told you to, placing the catalog in the other basket tentatively and then scurrying away.

The next day, you'd realized the catalog was back in the stack.  Not too much longer and the ordered rug was delivered, and after the basic questions had been asked by Levi, it was rolled out and covering the floor in front of and at the base of the sectional couch in the living room.

No complaints, no questioning if that was what you wanted, nor even any passing comments suggesting it didn't match the rest of the room.  Levi bought it and placed it for you without hesitation and the only question being where you wanted it and how it was supposed to lay.

Now that you knew he was actually going to follow through, you picked up a bit more confidence and went to the bookshelf a bit more frequently.  Browsing the catalogs became a pastime, at least for a little while, as you slowly redecorated the downstairs half of the house into something more to your taste.  At first it was just little things--curtains, rugs, a bigger coat and shoe rack by the door, a few plants, little things like that.  After that, you got things like baby clothes--the twins were growing, and from the advice you’d managed to scrounge up, you knew that they would burn through clothes like gasoline in a poor mileage vehicle.  Toys made an appearance, and soon decorations and little knick-knacks that caught your eye that you really didn’t need, it was more of a want.  He didn’t complain about those, but you /swore/ you felt a /look/ on occasion when the two of you happened to be in the living room at the same time when he came by to check the catalogs.  You were even considering trying to liven up the outside of the house as well--the ivy that had grown over the stone could be pretty if the yard was decorated a bit more--that way it would look decorative instead of abandoned.

Of course, you weren’t the best with plants, but it would give you something to do besides take care of the kids and lounge around all day.

That one thing ended up being the topic Levi pushed you on.  Not giving the twins to him to take care of every now and then, not making the place your own, it was getting out of the house that not even his blatant ‘hints’ could put a stop to.  You hadn’t found a part time job, and you’d only browsed a few things you could be doing on whims, never committing to anything, and if something really caught your eye, you ended up finding a way to do that at home.

It wasn’t healthy.  You were probably going to go stir crazy if you didn’t have something to get out of the house soon, but you were afraid to leave.  Maybe you trusted Levi to handle the twins when you were around, but there was something so much more real about leaving them in his care when you left the house.  Any time you thought about leaving with him to take care of them, something in you seized up with panic, and you quickly backed out.

Until, apparently, Levi had enough.

Four months old--he waited until the twins were four months old to give you the chance to get your life back in gear before he took matters into his own hands.

Levi making breakfast had become habit by now, and he was catching on to the things you liked and what you left untouched if he made it.  He still put variety into breakfast, but it was more personalized to your tastes now.  In fact, you had the sneaking suspicion he actually enjoyed this, enjoyed practicing his cooking skills and getting the chance to make at least the first meal of the day, even if he didn’t eat and the twins were still only drinking pumped breast milk.

He waited until you were halfway through your meal before he ambushed you, dropping what at first glance appeared to be a business card and a credit card on the counter beside you.

Holy shit, that was a fabled black card.

You stared at the credit card like it might bite you, brain crashing as you tried to figure out why he would throw something like /that/ at you.  How loaded was he?  Who did he have to kill to have that kind of money?

“Never seen a credit card before?” Levi asked flatly.  You were starting to understand that was just the way he talked, and he didn’t mean anything by his brisk way of speaking--it was just the way he was.  If he was trying to intentionally make a jab at you or piss you off, you would know.

“Not a shiny black one, no.”

Levi gave a soft, irritated sigh and pushed the card out of the way with his fingers, bringing the business card back into focus.  As opposed to the sleek black card, this was simple cream cardstock, with curly, almost cursive letters spelling out what was clearly a business name.  You picked up the card, arching an eyebrow at the name printed across the surface and staring at Levi.

“Rose’s Touch Spa?”

What was that supposed to mean to you?

“Turn it over,” he said with an exasperated sigh that you couldn’t even figure out what it was on your own.  You did, in fact, turn it over, and on the other side was a simple list of appointment information filled out by hand.  The date was written in light pink for today, in about two hours, a Platinum package for one already paid for.

Slightly alarmed, you looked up at him.  “Uh, what is--”

“It’s been four months,” Levi said, cutting you off before you could question or decline, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument.  “You haven’t left since you got here, not even for a jog.  That package is a full treatment, right down to all the amenities.  Take the day.  Relax.  Do whatever else you want, as long as it’s not here.”

“But the twins--”

“Will be fine here with me for one day until you get back.  You're not getting out on your own, so I took some initiative.  It’s not up for debate, you’re going,” Levi said flatly.

“You know I hate it when you make decisions for me,” you said hotly, but Levi didn’t rise to the bait, calmly pouring himself some more tea--the two of you were having breakfast alone while the twins slept after their morning meal, grabbing a rare quiet moment, so it was just the two of you in the room having this conversation.

“I left it to you for four months.  You didn’t do shit.  It’s not healthy, and I’m stepping in,” Levi said bluntly.  You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, mind suddenly buzzing with all kinds of things that could go wrong while you were gone, and that persistent, underlying, general sense of fear that wouldn’t leave you alone when Levi was involved.  “If you’re that worried, you have a phone for a reason,” Levi added at your nervous disposition.  However, he didn’t seem to be anywhere near changing his mind on the subject.  In fact, he was starting to clean up as if everything was already finished.

“They’ll treat you as a VIP, so you won’t have to wait very long once you get there.  You can probably leave thirty minutes before and get there with plenty of time,” he said casually, water running as he started scrubbing at the dishes.

You were quiet for several long moments, the only sound Levi cleaning up what remained of the morning breakfast mess.  “I don’t want to leave the twins,” you eventually said in a soft, barely audible voice.  Levi paused, appearing to consider your words for several long minutes.

“Your life didn’t stop because you had the babies.  If it has, it's of your own doing.  Nothing’s stopping you.  Nothing will happen to them while you’re gone.  They'll still be here when you come back.  I promise."

He didn't look at you while he said it, but there was a sincerity in his words that made you believe you could at least attempt it today.  It would do you some good to get out of the house, and to get a full package at a spa, and then do whatever you wanted with no limit to your spending…

It didn't look like much when it was just two cards on the counter, but he was really pushing to give you a day to yourself, a bit of freedom and fresh air.  Maybe you wanted to see ulterior motives in it and that was what made you scared, but you really needed to stop doing just that.  If you kept looking for problems everywhere, you'd find them, usually of your own making.  And one of his biggest complaints had been you twisting his words.

You were going to give him this chance, and if nothing bad happened...maybe you could stand to trust him a little more.

"Fine…" you murmured softly, taking both cards and tucking them away for later.  "You're not going to be busy today?"

"I don't have to be anywhere until Saturday."

Right.  One upside of being around all the time was that you were becoming quite familiar with Levi’s schedule.  He always went out on Saturday nights like clockwork, and always came back wanting to see the twins.  Every now and then, he didn't walk through the door like a normal person--he'd come from upstairs like he'd been home the whole time, which left you wondering how he got inside in the first place.  Another demon thing, maybe.  Usually when that happened, he was a little worse for wear and kept more covered up than usual, which only made you more suspicious about what was happening when he went out on Saturdays.

Then, of course, there were those hours he spent locked in the tower doing God knew what.  You hadn't snooped around to try and find out, and you'd told yourself you didn't want to know, but with how frequent it was, you were starting to wonder.

Thanks to the twins and their knack for waking you up at odd hours with their crying--and if one started, the other was grunted to join in--you'd also found out Levi didn't seem to sleep much, as you could hear him moving around the house at all hours of the night.  And in the early mornings, when the sun was just starting to rise, he tended to go out for a jog.  And Tuesdays were his cleaning day where he made sure the whole damn house was spotless.

So, you'd asked if it was all right with him because you didn't know if he planned on locking himself in the library again, today.

Well, apparently not, since he'd scheduled this appointment with the intent to get you out of the house all day.  Which meant you had no excuse.  The twins were going to be with their father today, and you were going to get out of the house for the first time in months.

You hadn't realized how much you actually needed this say to yourself, no strings attached, until you were right in the middle of it.  When Levi had said he got you the full package, he hadn't been kidding.  An hour long massage, manicure, pedicure, haircut however you wanted it, facial, the works.  By the time you left, you almost felt like an entirely new person, and you realized you were suddenly faced with an entire town of things you could do.

Food was first, with you going to your favorite restaurant to get whatever you wanted--except alcohol, since you were driving yourself around.  After that, you went to the nearest mall and browsed, ogling the puppies in one of the shop windows and buying yourself a nice sun dress to go with your new makeover.  Strolling around downtown opened a few doors you hadn't been expecting, as you caught sight of one or two advertised classes or workshops that caught your interest, Levi’s suggestion that you pick up a once a week hobby that got you out of the house regularly flashing through your mind.  You finished up your night with a movie, the sun having set long ago by the time you left, and a longing to get back to the twins now firmly rooted in your chest.

You'd decide if you were going to commit to a weekly class later after some online research and contemplation at home.

It was strange having a home with a driveway and a large stone gate, how you had to park and get our of the car to open the gate before you could drive inside, and having to get out again to close it behind you.  You felt like you were driving up to some ancient, off limits castle instead of somewhere you were living.

I really need to liven this place up, you thought as your gaze flickered across the plain front lawn, driving the car up to where it usually stayed when it wasn't being used and putting it in park.  You gathered your things and, mindful that it was an hour that the twins should be asleep, you quietly entered the house.

It was completely silent inside, which put you on edge as much as it helped relax you a bit not to be greeted with chaos.  But Levi didn't appear to see who entered the house or show you the twins were fine, either.

As you set your bags by the door, you were fighting off fearful thoughts, things like Levi making off with the twins while you were gone.  So as soon as you were free from the things you needed to carry inside, you started searching, going straight up to the bedrooms and peeking your head inside to confirm that the twins weren’t in the cribs in either room.  You went up to the library next to see if the door was locked and Levi was inside, but it was empty.  At that point, you were starting to panic, hurrying downstairs in a rush to check the kitchen to see if Levi was feeding them in there--he wasn’t.  You were basically running when you checked the living room, and promptly came to a full halt at the scene inside.

Two bare feet sticking out from behind the couch caused you to hurry forward enough you could see what was on the other side.  The floor blanket playmat thing you’d bought a while back for the babies was spread out and plush on the floor, on top of the carpet for extra cushion.  Both babies were lying on their backs asleep, one of the baby blankets thrown over them to keep them warm and a few baby toys lying on the ground around them, like a rattle or a few stuffed animals.  Beside them, lying on his side with one arm draped protectively over them, was Levi, asleep for once as you’d rarely seen him do.  You weren’t sure he intended to fall asleep here, but he’d definitely planned on being here for a while based on the pillow he had under the elbow of his other arm, which might have been propping up his head before he fell asleep.

Frankly, you were surprised that none of them had woken up with all your running about.  And...you were a little glad, too, because now you got to see this scene.

You lingered, deciding against waking him up for the time being.  They all looked so...peaceful right now.  The scene was soft and warm, Levi’s hair falling gently in front of a face that was suddenly gentle and missing signs of hardness or harsh edges.  He looked perfectly comfortable and at peace lying there beside the twins, and you kind of wished he’d stay like this solely because...well, he seemed more approachable like this, at least to you.  He looked...sweet, lying there with the twins.  Even the twins looked slightly more peaceful than normal when they slept, like they were aware they were being protected while they slept, safe under his arm.

After simply gazing at the scene for several long minutes, you left them alone--at least for now--and retrieved your things by the door to put them away.  Almost all of it went to your room, so it was one quick, quiet trip and then you were coming back downstairs.  Levi and the twins were still asleep in the living room, but now you didn’t have an excuse to delay, and the twins really should have been asleep in their crib.  So, quietly, you knelt down beside Levi, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder to wake him up.

He took a sharp breath in as he stiffened, eyelids opening even though his eyes were foggy and darting around to take in his surroundings, leaning slightly back to look at you.  Once he realized it was you, he started to relax slightly, rolling his shoulders and starting to sit up.

“It’s late.  Let’s get them in their cribs,” you said softly, receiving a grunt from Levi in acknowledgement as he sat up and gently pulled the blanket off of Asa, wrapping Ida up as he gently picked her up, taking care not to wake her in the process.  You picked up Asa in the meantime, freezing for a heartbeat when Asa twitched and you thought he might wake up before, thankfully, he settled back down, and you were able to get to your feet without waking him.

This was one of the few times you would let Levi into your room, just for the few moments it took for him to safely put one of the twins in the crib.  He made sure they were covered and warm, lying on their back without anything in the way before he backed up to the doorway, leaning on the frame just outside your bedroom.

“How was the spa?” he asked you as he watched you situate Asa in his crib, watching the twins for a few moments just to make sure they really were going to fall asleep.

“Very nice,” you said honestly, a little part of you in the back of your mind grateful that the two of you had at least gotten to the point you could have simple conversation.  “I even rescheduled...a month out.”

Levi’s gaze wandered to the sun dress you had laying on the bed.  “And had a shopping spree afterwards?”

You shrugged, stepping away from the cribs and making your way towards the doorway.  Levi stepped out of your way and let you walk by, closing the door behind you before he followed you back down the stairs to the living room.

“Not really.  I browsed a few places, but didn’t buy much.  I had dinner, saw a movie, walked around downtown--just a regular night out,” you said simply, starting to pick up the baby toys on the floor.  Levi helped, especially since he’d contributed to the mess, folding up the blanket and putting the pillows back up on the couch.

“Will you be going out again?  Before next month’s appointment?” Levi asked casually, though you were well aware he was hoping this one day out had inspired you to get out of the house more.

“Maybe.  I’m looking at some things, I’ll let you know,” you murmured, playing idly with the stuffed animal in your hand.  “What about while I was gone?  They weren’t too fussy, were they?”

“They seemed fairly content.  I think they were looking for their mother sometimes, though,” Levi said honestly.  You appreciated the honesty.  As much as it tasted bittersweet that they’d missed you, you also appreciated that he didn’t try to claim they’d been perfectly happy without you, with just him to keep them company.  At least he hadn’t made it sound like they didn’t need you.  “You look different.”

You turned to look at him, stuffed animals in your arms with your hand wrapped around the baby rattle.  “You booked the full package, didn’t you?  It was practically a full makeover.”  You shifted, suddenly a little self-conscious, though you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.  “Is that a bad thing?”

“Never said it was.”

An awkward silence lingered between the two of you for a few moments, what could have been a nice moment spoiled by the tension of the history between the two of you as you turned away.  “I’ve been running around all day.  I’m going to head to bed...I’ll see you in the morning,” you said softly, already leaving the room before you even finished talking.

You were tired, and you wanted to rest, but you also wanted to get out while the conversation was positive, leave things on a good note before the two of you had the chance to spoil it by accident or bringing up things that didn’t need brought up.

Let this moment stay a good day, a good memory.  Which was exactly what it became when you were able to fall asleep that night without any other incident.

(One Month Later)

You had slowly grown used to the house, made it your own.  There were still a few things that made you reluctant to call it home, namely the continued awkwardness and unease living with Levi, but you were starting to be able to coexist with him, which was the important thing.  You had your spots around the house now, places you liked to be.  There was your room of course, but now there was also the library, where you liked to go up to the balcony floor to read, and outside, where you were working on some yard work to make the place feel more at home.  You were planning on putting outside toys in the back when the twins were old enough--sprinklers on a water hose for the kids to play in, a playhouse, swing sets, that kind of thing.  In the front, you were more worried about plant life--flowers, trees, bushes, the like.  Maybe put in some rock beds.  If you were lucky, maybe you could even convince Levi to let you put in a fountain or two--make the place look nice.  You were determined to put in the flowers, bushes, and at least one tree.  You still needed to talk to Levi to see if remodeling the front and back lawn was part of his ‘make this place yours’ statement, but you were drawing up plans for larger alterations while making the smaller ones like the rock beds, bushes, and flowers.

At the moment, however, you were looking for something a bit less laborious than gardening.  You just wanted some quiet time in the library while the twins were down for a nap, which meant you were heading up to the tower with the baby monitor on your person, hoping that Levi wasn’t currently holed up in there with the door locked, which would have meant your plans were entirely spoiled and you’d have to think of something new.

You paused with your hand hovering over the doorknob, able to hear Levi’s voice once again, faintly, from the other side of the door.

Shit, he was in there, which meant the door was probably locked, and you couldn’t go in.  So much for a bit of reading for your time to yourself.

You started to back away from the door, but paused, that curiosity that you had managed to keep at bay for these past few months cropping up much stronger and more intense than it had been, especially when you knew all you had to do...was press your ear up to the door for a few minutes and listen, just long enough to get context and figure out what might be going on behind that door, combined with what you saw of him afterwards usually--though usually he disappeared to his room or the bathroom directly afterwards unless he was needed.

You really should just walk away.  Part of you was afraid to know what was happening behind that door.  But at the same time, the curiosity was killing you.

Fuck it.  Just get it over with.

Slowly and hesitantly, so you didn’t make any noise that might give you away, you gently pressed your ear against the wood, closing your eyes to focus more on what you heard and not get distracted by the grains in the wood or something.

For a few moments, you didn’t really...hear anything.  Just soft but heavy breathing--well, if you could hear it, it was probably panting.  There was the softest grunt, and you heard him speak again.

“There.  Right there…” Levi said, his voice sounding a little strained and followed by a low moan.

Wait a second…

You strained you ears to try and catch maybe another voice, a different pitch, but all you could hear was Levi, no one else.  Which made you doubt your brief moment of almost realization.

But then you heard a low chuckle that made a tingle go down your spine in an almost conditioned response.  “Faster?  Impatient today, aren’t we?”

Oh yeah, that was definitely what was going on in there.  It would explain why the few times you saw him afterwards he looked disheveled and a little sweaty if he didn’t get a chance to clean up first.  As for the lack of a responding individual...well, either he was rubbing one out for himself, which would suggest a stupidly high sex drive bordering on addiction with how long and often he was up here, or he was performing for an audience that wasn’t necessarily here.

Whichever it was, you really didn’t want to be listening much longer now that you had a hint about what was going on in there.

Also, if there was an audience, it would explain why he wouldn’t want you walking in on that.

You shook your head after pulling away from the door and hurried back down the spiral staircase, trying desperately to erase the image that your mind easily called up with your...extensive experience with Levi what you were now forced to realize was hardly a year ago.  A whole year since the wild three months of regular wild sex that had led to the situation you were in now.

And now that you thought about it...he hadn’t once touched you since that last night.  Not at all.  Only accidental brushes or the occasional assistance with the twins, or when he’d carried you into the house that first night here.

You didn’t think you hated him anymore, after the past five months with him and the twins.  But you still didn’t like him.  Still, you couldn’t help but wonder...what were the two of you?  What were you now, and what were you going to be?  Was there even a name for whatever this arrangement between the two of you?

Maybe you just needed to wait a little longer and find out what would happen next.

But right now, you really didn’t want to be thinking about what he was doing up in that tower.  You’d been right the first time, it would have been better if your curiosity remained in check.  Now you were going to have to try and avoid thinking about what he was doing up there every time he locked himself in the damn library.

Fuck.

(Two Months Later)

*Levi’s POV*

While domestic life was gradually getting easier between Levi and Y/N, especially with her getting out of the house for glass blowing lessons every week--that hadn't been what he expected her to pick up, but he wasn't going to complain so long as she was getting out every now and then--Levi was mostly focused on the twins, who had been growing rather rapidly.  Not abnormally so, just, he hadn't expected them to grow this quickly.  Y/N was practically ordering new clothes for them through the catalogues monthly, though he had a feeling she was also trying to get ahead of the growth spurt, buying clothes for one year and older as well and not just the seven months they were currently at.

With both of them not working, considering they were living off the mass of wealth Levi had stolen and accumulated over the centuries and the money he'd made in more modern times doing sex work, they were both there for many of the firsts with the twins.

Two months in, the now calm coexistence with Y/N had still been rough and more tense than anything.  But that had also been the time when Levi had entered the same room as Y/N when she was walking the twins around for some sight seeing outside the bedroom.  As he rounded the corner and approached, Asa had turned his little head at the sound of Levi's approach and smiled for the first time upon locking eyes with Levi.  It had cut him right to the heart--in a good way, and softened his expression immediately, a faint smile flickering across his face as well with the bright look his son was giving him, and one of his firsts, at that.

The first thing Asa smiled at in this world had been him.

Of course, he'd tried to hide it, simply because at that point he was worried about how Y/N would react knowing Levi got the first smile from the twins.  Thankfully, Ida smiled at her mother a few days later, which made Levi relax a bit once more with the relief of Y/N getting the same first with Ida, at least.  The last thing he'd wanted was her to have another reason to be jealous or upset with him.

Not that he could help it, or would apologize for it.

His son smiled for the first time when he saw him.  How could that make him feel bad, besides when he overthought it on his own time worrying about how Y/N perceived him?

While he dodged a bullet with the first smile thing, since it was split between the two of them, the first laugh was singular to him, and him alone, for both twins.  Thankfully that had been roughly around the four month mark, and Y/N had been far more tolerant and forgiving of him by then--hell, she’d been willing to let him take care of the twins on his own while she went out for a day to herself.  That was progress.

One of the twins he’d made laugh by accident, while the other was definitely on purpose, though he hadn’t known it was their first laugh at the time, so he’d felt a little guilty that he’d accidentally made it so he shared more of the firsts with the twins than she did.

Ida had been the first one he made laugh, and it had been entirely by accident.  Him and Y/N started to get into a bit of an argument over something petty, as usual, something that didn’t matter overall and was mostly fueled by the old wounds between them instead of the matter they were arguing over.  The twins happened to be in the room at the time, and in an effort to get the topic to be dropped so the twins wouldn’t have to be in the room as it escalated into a full-blown fight, Levi had looked away with his signature, dismissive ‘Tch’ sound.

That little sound had made Ida giggle and squirm happily while staring at him with a wide smile, which had effectively shut down any argument they’d been having in favor of the fact one of their twins had laughed for the first time.  More specifically, she’d laughed at the funny noise her father made, but still she’d laughed, and they’d both heard it.

And frankly, if she was around and he made that little noise, she would giggle at it.  It actually made him a little self-conscious of how often he made that noise.

Asa had clearly been the one he’d made laugh on purpose.  It had been while he was playing with the little boy, which right now consisted of simply tickles, silly little games, waving interesting objects in their face, that kind of thing.  Levi had been tickling his tummy and feet to keep Asa entertained while they laid on the floor, Asa on the play mat and Levi stretched out beside it, and as his hand came in for quick little tickles all across the little boy’s tummy and sides.  Asa had let out a squeal, legs lifting momentarily into the air and arms pinwheeling beside him and thumping into the ground at the tickles.

And again, Levi smiled in turn, not at that moment realizing it had been Asa’s first laugh.  That part came later, when he mentioned he’d gotten Asa to squeal-laugh while playing with him and he’d seen the downcast look on Y/N’s face.  That look had told him she’d missed something before she’d told him that was the first time Asa had laughed, and it had been because of Levi again, while she was out for the night at the glass blowing class she’d decided to give a try.

Again, he felt a little bad that he currently had experienced more of the children’s firsts by his own hand than she had, but he wasn’t going to let that taint the memories themselves.  They were still good, precious memories he was going to hold onto.

Like their first baths--actual baths, not the sponge baths they got for the first few weeks after coming home from the hospital.  That had taken some convincing, since that had been when the animosity was still fresh, but with Y/N’s supervision, he’d been able to give them their first baths, which he’d insisted on doing.  The twins hadn’t been sure how to react to the experience, both of them appearing to find it all strange and new, but not yet deciding if it was a good or bad thing.  Ida kept trying to grab everything he used to clean her to inspect them, but he kept it firmly out of her reach and stayed focused on very carefully cleaning every part of them so there wasn’t a trace of filth or stink on them, leaving their skin smooth and soft since he’d been careful they didn’t end up dried out, either.  In his opinion, they seemed a bit more active and squirmy afterwards, like they’d been pleased with the clean feeling afterwards despite the alien experience.

He was definitely there when Y/N started to slowly get them eating food instead of just breastmilk.  That was still new, since it was usually recommended around the six month mark, which they hadn’t passed that long ago.  It was strictly baby food right now, no soft melting finger foods yet, just spoon fed baby food, but it was still a graduation from breast milk, which had Levi excited that his anxiety over Y/N possibly being impatient to pump milk and feeding them straight from the source would finally be over when they graduated completely from breast feeding.  When he was the one feeding them, he was always careful to make sure they were paced no matter how eager to eat they might be, and that they didn’t get too much in their little mouths, so they wouldn’t inhale the food and choke.  And, of course, he was always trying to make it as neat of an experience as possible, to the point he’d gotten pretty good at catching stray baby food with the spoon without leaving any traces behind.

They were also able to sit up by now, in a way.  That one was Y/N’s doing--she’d apparently sat with them on the couch and discovered they could officially sit up as long as they were propped on something, which meant that they could play with some toys to entertain themselves on their own for a little while as they read or watched a movie or whatever it was that they wanted to do.  Y/N liked to prop them up on the crescent shaped pillow with a few baby toys within reach and read books from the library.  Levi, however, was still in a mindset to snatch each and every moment he could, just in case Y/N’s favor towards him turned foul in the future and these moments became scarce.  So when the twins were with him, usually all of his attention was on them.  He, of course, tended to have the lingering feeling like this was time he was being allowed to have and he needed to make the most of it.

Even though he was painfully aware of the fact that he and the twins had an eternity stretched in front of them as long as nothing terrible happened, and Y/N only had a few short years with them.  If anyone should be acting like every moment was a rare allowance, it was her, but she wasn’t aware she was on a clock, and he didn’t like to think about it--not at this early stage.  Let her enjoy these years of firsts and infancy in peace, let the memories be pure.  He’d tell her when they got a bit older.  While she still had a few years left, but after the first couple of innocent years had passed untainted by the knowledge.

They were rolling over now, too, which had Levi a little leery about the house.  He was thinking about officially baby proofing it, and just how gung-ho he wanted to go with it.  Considering they had twins and they were his children, it was probably better to be safe than sorry.

Ridiculous amounts of baby proofing it was.  Until some of them frustrated the hell out of him and he realized the lack of necessity for some of them through trial and error.  But right now, if they were going to be crawling around and exploring soon, all sharp edges and dangerous items and open electrical sockets needed taken care of.  And gates needed to be put up.  Fuck, were there baby gates for grand double staircases?

At the moment, it was a rare moment of familial quiet time in the library, the twins snoozing on the baby mat in front of Y/N piled on top of each other like kittens clutching toys and stuffed animals, Y/N curled up on the couch with a book down below while Levi perused his collection on the second floor looking for something he wouldn’t mind reading again.  A lot of the books here were ones that he’d read before and decided they were worth keeping a copy of because he felt they could be read more than once.

As he was passing by the window, moving from one bookshelf to another, he glanced outside, past the large semi-finished lawn and to the street he could view from this high up at this particular window.  However, his movement was brought to a halt in front of the window, gaze fixed on the same spot with burning intensity as he took a step closer to the window to get a better look.

There was someone standing on the opposite side of the street, looking up at the house with as much attention as Levi was currently looking down on them.  The people walking around on the street didn’t seem to notice he was even there, as if it was just open air.  The tingle on the back of Levi's neck confirmed he was seeing someone currently in between, someone keeping themselves unseen to the human eye.  He didn’t have a name for the person he was gazing at, but there was faint recognition.  He felt like it might have been one of the demons who had initially dragged him back to the Infernal Council trial that had led to Levi having to impregnate Y/N.  A vengeance demon, if he remembered properly, and not at all a friend.  A threat, at the very least.

Their gazes locked, and a dangerous burn entered Levi’s gaze, body tensing as he realized he couldn’t let confirmation of where he and the twins were living get out.

I see you.

Y/N wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment, thankfully, so Levi shifted into the in between himself, wings unfurling as he stepped right through what had been a physical wall, his wings controlling the rapid descent as he made a beeline for the other demon that was turning to make a run for it.  The other demon just had to get the information to someone else.  Levi just had to silence him before he could.

The other demon took off with bat-like wings smaller than Levi’s own draconic ones, trying to zip through small places and outmaneuver him.  Levi, however, wasn’t shaken, following with ease and rapidly gaining speed, coming closer and closer as they flew above the roofs of homes and businesses.  Finally, the vengeance demon made the mistake Levi had been counting on him making, and he tried to plummet down and enter Hell so he could shout the information to the nearest demons and let gossip and natural spread of information do the rest.

However, as soon as he tucked in those wings and started to plummet, Levi tucked in as well, diving with the speed and accuracy of a bird swooping down upon an unsuspecting mouse.  His arms wrapped around the other demon with a snarl, turning them both to the side and keeping them from shifting one more plane down into Hell.  They crashed to the ground, Levi making sure the other demon was taking the brunt of the fall before he jumped back up to his feet two paces away from the other demon.  As the other let out a frustrated growl and his twisted true form burst through, Levi’s eyes narrowed, his own human form bleeding away to reveal his demon form, wings, horns, tail, and all.

This was a slightly more matched fight.  Vengeance demons could be vicious, but they were oddly enough considered a lower class of demon like incubi and succubi.  Though he still had some nasty natural weapons Levi was going to have to be mindful of if he wanted to come out of this fight on top.  Like those claws he was staring at, or the fangs.  Vengeance demons certainly weren’t crafted for allure like incubi were, looking more like the Dracula vampire form in the Hugh Jackman Van Helsing movie.

Thankfully, one good thing about all the deals he’d been making and years he’d been gaining, was that he was pumped full of vitality and strength, more than he normally was.  Clearly the Council hadn’t been thinking about that little side effect when they put him in the position to have to make this damn deal.

The other demon lunged at Levi, who stood his ground and lowered his body into a charging position at the last moment, his horns now perfectly aligned to impale the demon that charged him.  When the other howled, Levi quickly backed up before he left his neck exposed any longer than necessary, moving out of range of those wicked claws that slashed at him.  Black ichor dripped down his horns and onto his skin, gold and black eyes flashing as he braced himself for another attack.  The demon lunged itself at him again, and this time Levi met him head on, hands flashing through the air as the two exchanged blows, Levi deflecting most of the others hits and landing a few solid hits of his own, causing black blood to spatter onto the pavement below.  Some of it, unfortunately, was his own.  Those claws managed to do a bit of damage even when Levi deflected since they were so damn sharp, breaking skin wherever they connected.  Levi ignored the sting, however, and stayed focused on the fight, stepping back and leaning away every now and then to avoid the snapping fangs that tried to savagely rip at any flesh it could come into contact with.

Levi ducked and weaved around the other demon, keeping his attacks quick, his movements agile, doing his best not to let the other demon land any solid hits on him as he methodically tore them apart.  The other demon could probably sense he wasn’t going to win this fight, his attacks turning wild and unrefined, Levi able to dodge almost all of them as he put the demon on the ground, pinning him beneath Levi’s weight as he proceeded to beat them to death.

It was a brutal way to go, but he didn’t have any demonic weapons on hand to finish him off, so it would have to be by his own hands.  Killing demons could be tricky, and this was someone he couldn’t let slip through the cracks and risk telling people where Levi and the twins were.

Mid swing, when the demon below him started to look like a bloody pulp, a sudden surge of strength from the being beneath him caught Levi off guard, and he felt sharp claws sink into his abdomen, slender, bony fingers pushed past--it felt like it went all the way through, at least barely.  Levi choked, pain wracking his body, but determination and fierce protectiveness for the little family he had back at that mansion pushed him through it so he could slam the full weight of his fist into the demon’s temple while its head was pressed against the ground, hearing a sick crack and feeling the hand that had impaled him go limp.  He didn’t remove it, yet, knowing that would only cause the bleeding to worsen and the injury to get worse, which he did not need right now.

A few more hits, and he was certain the vengeance demon wasn’t going to be getting back up.  There was no breath, no heartbeat, and he still did another hit or two--overkill, yes--just to be sure.

He needed to get back home.  He needed to take care of this, before he bled out and died.  This was arguably worse than the wounds Zeke gave him.

Being extremely careful he didn’t cause any more damage than was inevitable, Levi let his wings unfurl again, ready to take flight the moment he was free as he slowly pulled the clawed fingers out of his torso.  The demon beneath him was already turning a matte black and seemed to be crumbling, which confirmed that yes, they were very dead, and no one would be able to retrieve the information of where Levi and the others were located.

Though he really needed to figure out what trail had led the demon there in the first place.  He’d have to ask Furlan to look into that.

Those thoughts could wait for later.

As soon as the fingers were clear, Levi pressed his arm against the holes in his abdomen to try and staunch the flow of black ichor, wings already lifting him into the air with temporarily powerful beats in the air, carrying him as fast as he could manage back home.  By now Y/N would have noticed his sudden disappearance, but she was going to have to deal with his disappearing act a little longer.  He didn’t want her seeing this.

By the time the house appeared within view again, Levi was barely keeping himself in the air, head swimming as he bobbed and weaved almost drunkenly through the sky, breaths labored as he simply aimed for making it to the bathroom in the house.

It was a crash landing, Levi ending up curled up on his side on the cold floor as his demon form slowly bled away and gave way to his human form again and he fazed back to the physical plane, skin clammy and eyes half-open as his gaze roamed his familiar bathroom.  His foot weakly kicked the door shut.  He dragged himself over to the cabinet he kept the towels in, dragging out the black ones to press hard against his wound while his bloody hand reached for his phone to make a call--or rather, text--for help.

Human hands or means he couldn’t die from.  Demons and Angels, supernatural beings, that was another story.  Which was why he couldn’t let himself bleed out here in the bathroom.  He had two children that were going to need him after their mother was gone, and he needed assistance with this injury.

The bastard had actually gotten a good last hit on him, and he hated it.

I need help.  Don’t let Y/N see you, the text read when he sent it.  Now all he had to do was sit and wait and hope he didn’t bleed out before help came.

He was borderline unconscious when Isabel finally showed up, walking through the In Between so Y/N wouldn’t see her and she could just walk through walls instead of worrying about locks and doors.  Her words were far away when she picked him up off the floor and leaned him against the wall, but it didn’t take much to figure out what she was trying to say to him despite his current condition.

“Vengeance demon was watching the house.  Had to take care of him before he told anyone,” Levi murmured as Isabel got a good look at the injury, moving around the bathroom to find the first aid supplies Levi kept, water, more towels, things like that.

“A vengeance demon did this to you?” Isabel asked skeptically.  Levi snorted acerbically.

“Caught me off guard.  Guess I’m a little rusty,” he mumbled.

“It’s fixable, but it’s not going to be pleasant.  Your healing’s done part of the work already, but try not to move or fall asleep for a while.”

“I know the drill...Isabel...I don’t know how he found out about the house, but--”

“I know.  I’ll tell Furlan, see what we can find.  Maybe you guys should go to one of the other safe houses until we find out where the leak is.”

Levi shook his head.  “No...Y/N’s just started to settle in and get a life again.  I don’t want to move her.”

“Tell her it’s a vacation.  Go to that beach cottage you love so much.  Take the kids to see the ocean.  Just for a couple weeks, and then right back after we figure this out.”

“...Maybe.  We’ll see.”

There was a knock on the door, and both of them grew quiet, Levi becoming a bit more alert and trying to sit up as Y/N’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Levi?  Are you in there?”

Levi cleared his throat, taking a moment to make sure there wouldn’t be traces of pain or weakness in his voice as he asked a quick, simple, “What?”

“You disappeared, I just...are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said, his tone almost curt, though he made sure it was soft enough she wouldn’t think he was angry at her.

“Okay, but...I have my class tonight, so you’re going to have to watch the twins in an hour or so.”

Levi cursed in his mind, grinding his teeth together.  “I’ll call Isabel, then.”

There were a few long moments of silence where Isabel stared at him, Levi well aware he just accidentally tipped his hand if Y/N had learned anything about him and how he felt about the twins.  He never gave up a chance to be around them and take care of them, and was always more than willing to have one on one time with them.

The doorknob rattled, the door starting to open since neither Levi nor Isabel had bothered to lock it--or in Levi’s case, hadn't been in a condition to lock it.  Levi quickly leaned over and pushed it shut before she could get it open enough to see what was happening inside, his hand pressed flat against the door and a low groan of pain escaping him at the sudden movement.  He hoped she hadn’t heard that, with how his face was maybe two inches off the floor, the sound quiet and maybe not heard over the click of the door shutting.

“I respect your privacy.  Do the same for me...please,” Levi ground out, tagging on the last part so he wouldn’t come off too harsh.  They were finally getting in a good place, he didn’t want to ruin that because he was hurt and his answers were a bit brisk right now.

There were a few moments of silence again, except this time, Y/N simply walked away.  Isabel was right next to him, a hand pressed against his injury to keep it from bleeding more since he’d just agitated it, helping him to get back in a sitting position.  This time he managed to keep the gasp contained, though the pain was spelled out across his face, surely.

“Babysitting?” he asked Isabel briefly as she got back to work on his injury.

“I’ve got it,” she answered just as quietly.

Damn, he was glad he had at least some friends to help him with all this.  He’d be shit outta luck if he didn’t have Isabel and Furlan.

Levi leaned his head back and let Isabel do her work, simply focusing on enduring the pain and keeping his eyes open as his mind raced with what he should do now.

Predictably, Y/N hadn’t been open to leaving the house for a vacation when she was finally making it home and she had her weekly classes.  She’d been open to the vacation in the future, but right now, she wanted to stay here with the babies, and she had not been open to leaving.  So, Isabel, Furlan, and Levi had to work around that stubbornness to make sure the house remained safe, and Levi had to default to settling for his other, more long term safety measure.

It wasn’t a full solution, but it was a nice start, and it would do more than just add a bit of security to the property.

He had an unannounced day out besides a bit of a warning to Y/N earlier that morning, telling her he didn’t know how long he would be gone, but that he should at least be back in time for dinner.  She didn’t get angry this time--she’d stopped getting angry when he left, since now it was part of normal everyday life and the twins had been home for a few months now.  Not to mention, he rarely went out on days that varied from his usual, except when there was something he needed to do or get for them.

The first three-fourths of his day was spent searching for the perfect fit.  He went to several stores, some out of town, looking for the perfect one, which was a lot more difficult than it might have been for normal people.  The last small part of the day was reserved for supplies, which would be easy once he finally settled on his choice.  He’d done a bit of research two or three days prior, and he knew generally what he was looking for.  Now it was just the matter of finding the right one.

He was looking for a dog.

A puppy, more accurately.  Very young, probably recently started on the transition away from their mother.  He wanted a puppy so that he could start training early, and so that the little one could grow up with the twins and they could form a comfortable bond.  He already knew the breeds he was looking at, he’d narrowed it down to a Doberman pinscher or a German shepherd, and since he knew what age he wanted, it should have been easy, right?

No.  It wasn’t.  Not for a demon.  Dogs could sense the infernal nature in him, and they were not very welcoming whenever he walked into a kennel or a pet store.  Most of them growled or barked or were on edge when he entered.  It might have been another reason he was looking for a puppy.  If he got them that young, they could learn to be comfortable around him and the twins, instead of naturally being hostile.  But it was also making his search a little more difficult.  Not only did he have to find a puppy of one or both of the breeds that fit what he was looking for, he had to find one that took to him fairly well that wasn’t going to be on edge because of his infernal blood.

It didn’t help he could feel some judgmental looks from the caretakers whenever all the dogs responded negatively to him.  He ignored it, though.  If he looked long enough, surely he’d eventually find one that would warm up to him.

His search finally came to an end not at a pet store or a shelter, but at someone’s home.  They’d put up an add that their dogs had puppies and they were selling most of them, and he’d decided to give it a try.  The Doberman father of the puppies had admittedly tried to bite him when he arrived, but the owners had put the dog in another room and brought him into the room they were keeping the puppies in.  The German shepherd mother they had to put on a leash, because she nearly freaked out when Levi was brought into the same room as her puppies, but thankfully the owners were still letting him look.  Patiently, Levi took a seat on the ground instead of the couches, putting himself on the level of the puppies who were old enough to be wandering around and be separated from their mother if they were picked, but young enough they were still being kept around her.

Most of the puppies scattered and hid or went to their mother, but there were two or three brave souls who wanted to check him out and see what this new person that smelled funny to them was.  One left after the mother barked at them when they got too close, and another wouldn’t get close enough for Levi to touch them, but the third…

The puppy was a boy, more Doberman in coloration, but with a German shepherd lean in body structure.  He had little light brown eyebrow and ear markings, a soft light brown underbelly marking and up half of his legs, two light brown, symmetrical patches at the front of its chest, a light brown muzzle, and a little tuft of white/grey fur running in a stripe from nose to between the eyes.  This little guy ignored any warnings from his siblings and mother and went up to Levi, albeit hesitantly, who stayed still and let the puppy sniff him experimentally, occasionally jumping back as if he kept expecting Levi to do something before he would approach again.  When he got comfortable enough to linger around Levi, he carefully extended a hand and let the puppy sniff him, even letting it nibble playfully on his fingers before he very gently and carefully gave the tiny puppy a few gentle pets.  After that, he seemed rather confident, crawling right into Levi’s lap and looking for a comfortable position as he snuggled in.

Finally.  Ironic how it ended up being a mix of the two breeds he’d been looking for.  Or maybe that was part of what made it so perfect.

After that he just had to talk to the owners about price and what the puppy had already been given regarding shots and the like, and if they were already starting house training him or were leaving that for the next owner.  He had the whole discussion with the puppy in his lap, acting as if it was entirely normal that this was happening.  He had twins that happily lolled around in his lap--thankfully they weren’t crawling yet--so a puppy making a happy home in his lap was nothing.

After the discussion with the owner and paying, Levi left with one very tiny nine week old puppy who was already asleep tucked under his arm.  It might not have been the safest, but he let the little guy stay there and drove back to the best store he’d been to one handed, the puppy in his arms waking up at the drastic change in the air after the car came to a stop and Levi stepped inside.  He sat the puppy down in the grass to do his business before picking him back up in his arm and heading inside to get all the dog supplies he needed--with help from one of the store associates, who talked to him about what he’d need for a puppy, and he needed to talk to in order to set up training lessons as well--the basics, at least.  The more advanced guard dog stuff would have to wait until the puppy was older and would probably need a different kind of trainer.

He also let the little guy run around on the floor in the toy aisle to pick some toys while he worried about dog food, bed, leash, collar, food bowls, all that kind of stuff.  The collar ended up being a dark green and gold one, which he got a nameplate for at the kiosk in the store.

Which also meant he needed to come up with a name for the puppy on the spot.

He watched the little guy after filling out address and phone number for if he got lost, the name the only thing still needed as he watched the puppy bounding around, currently entertained with a canvas toy he was absolutely enamored by, tail wagging furiously as he gnawed on the toy.

Hmm...a guard dog...but he didn’t want it terribly cliché, so nothing like Cerberus, Spike, Fang, or anything like that.  Maybe something the twins might eventually be able to say with ease--in a way.

Levi cocked his head to the side, giving it a few more minutes of thought before he finally keyed in CAPTAIN in big letters to have engraved onto the golden name plate.

Once he had everything, Levi and Captain headed back to the car, all of the stuff loaded into the back and Captain getting a seat of honor in his lap where Levi could make sure that the puppy was safe during the drive--after he was let out into the grass again, just to make sure he didn’t need to relieve himself again before they got in the car.

Normally, he probably should have brought this up to Y/N first, but after the encounter with the vengeance demon, Levi wanted some kind of layer of protection for the family he now had to take care of.  He couldn’t ask Isabel and Furlan to constantly keep an eye on the house, and no security system in the world, no matter how state of the art, was going to be able to protect against a demon walking through the In Between plane.

But a dog, a dog could see--a bit--creatures that walked in the In Between.  Cats could, too--animals in general had always been sensitive about that kind of thing.  But a dog he could train to alert them when there was something in the In Between lurking around the property.  It could help if Levi wasn’t around, or if Levi wasn’t somewhere he could see with a glance out the window.  It was another layer of protection, even if it was slight, and it would help Levi have a bit of peace of mind that they would be a little safer on the grounds.  It would take a lot of hard work and training when the dog was older, training him to growl or bark a certain way when there was a demon in the In Between lurking around, but not to bark or growl at Levi or Furlan when they were walking around in the In Between.

He’d figure it out when the puppy was older.  Right now, it was all about integration into the house...and convincing Y/N to let the fact he’d done this without asking her slide.  And convincing her it was a good idea.

When he came home, he once again let the puppy in the grass to do its business, having been told by the store owner that the puppy was going to go all the time in this early stage and he’d have to be vigilant and patient, and that messes inside were inevitable until the puppy was old enough to be properly potty trained, and he eventually was trained successfully.

Twins and a puppy...he really was taking on a lot at once, but...he needed this extra layer of protection for the twins, and he needed the puppy to be young so he could get them used to demons, for his and the twins sakes.  He couldn’t exactly wait, either, considering the threat was real now, even if he wasn’t planning on making it known to Y/N.  Not yet, anyway.

Once Captain had done his business once more, Levi scooped him up and headed inside, leaving the supplies and toys in the car for now.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he heard Y/N moving from the living room, coming over to the foyer with Asa in hand and then freezing when she saw the tiny excited thing wiggling in Levi’s arms wanting to run over and check out the new person and the new surroundings.

“What the hell?” Y/N asked, sounding for the moment too stunned to be angry.

Levi kept a firm hold on Captain, unaware where Ida was and wanting to be safe for the time being.  He planned on Captain getting used to the twins scents and adjusting to being around himself and Y/N before he did an actual first meeting, so he was keeping a tight hold on the puppy for the moment.

“I know I didn’t give you any warning, but this...is Captain.  He’s going to be our new guard dog...eventually,” he said, scratching Captain behind the ear and watching as the puppy turned to investigate, nibbling at his fingers again.

“You got a puppy,” Y/N said blankly, still staring, though Levi didn’t miss how she held Asa a little tighter.

“A puppy can adjust to being around three demons.  And he can grow up with the twins, too, so they’re used to each other,” Levi explained.

“And you didn’t think to ask me first?” she asked pointedly, and Levi grimaced inwardly.  The question that he couldn’t get around.

“I did,” he said honestly.

“But you didn’t ask me.”

“Because it was something I was going to do regardless,” Levi said, giving the puppy little strokes along its head as it licked at the hand holding it.

“You should have asked me.”

“Yes,” he agreed.  “But it still doesn’t change anything.  We need a guard dog, and the best way to go about it is get a young puppy to raise with the twins and get used to being around demons.”

“We need one?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.  A guard dog can do what a security system can’t for us,” Levi said calmly.  “I won’t be pushing any more responsibilities off on you--I’ll be training and taking care of him, you won’t have to worry about him, usually.  Except the few times I’m not home and he needs let out.”

“Are you sure having a puppy around the twins is a good idea?  What if they don’t get along?” she asked in concern.

“I’m not going to throw them together right away.  I’m going to have him get used to their scent and make sure he associates good things with them first.  And I specifically got a breed that’s good with children and families.”

“Families?”

Levi glanced up at her, realizing for the first time the connotations he was bringing to light whenever he referred to or thought of them as a family.  A dysfunctional one, for sure, unique and with strange relationships...but they were, weren’t they?  Children, mother, father, even if mother and father weren’t together and had a strained relationship.  Now they even had a family dog.

“Is Ida in the other room?” he asked, instead of saying anything about his use of family.

“Yeah, she’s napping on the floor, Asa wore her out.”

Levi nodded.  “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to get a few things from your bedroom with the twins scent on them for him to start getting used to the smells before meeting the three of you.  I’ll keep it out of destructive reach and put him in my room while I bring his things in,” Levi explained, waiting for her express permission before he moved.

Hesitantly, Y/N nodded, still looking a little upset and unsure about the whole thing before Levi headed upstairs to start getting Captain settled into his new home.

Next Part---->

(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)

Everything Tags:  @antisteller​

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse @wubbawubwub04 @lollobos @pasteldays @xcocolinox @itsmeaudrieee @macaronnv @tokyo-banana @apuci-kis-szornye @morgana-olson @yellowminb

A Demon’s Promise Tags:  @wo-ming-bai @rindulacre @seeeyounara @myherotrashbin @roseestuosity @drunkenlionart @mikamaek @logicallevi @whore-for-anime @krissykat0207 @september-sunsets @rockssocksthou @french-girl-online @kimuranini @tartxglia @beaniebanby @leviandhisgoonsquad 

#levi #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #aot levi #snk levi #levi snk #levi heichou #demon!levi #demon!levi ackerman #demon!captain levi #demon!aot levi #incubus!levi #incubus!levi ackerman #incubus!captain levi #incubus!aot levi #levi x reader #captain levi x reader #aot levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi fanfiction #captain levi fanfic #levi fanfic #levi fan fiction #levi fan fic #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi fan fic #captain levi fan fiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fan fic

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (7)

“So! How does it look?” Toshinori asked, with a booming voice and his best hands-on-hips pose to kickstart the endeavor with a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

He wasn’t particularly successful. 

“Daunting. Impossible. Like I’m gonna die of old age before I’m anywhere close to making a change.”

“A little optimism goes a long way, you know?”

“...I may not die before I’ve lugged away some of this.” Midoriya amended tentatively, scanning the extensive length of garbage-filled beach stretching before them. “And… what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger?”

“That’s the spirit!” Toshinori gave him a pat on the back, strong enough to make the boy stammer forwards. He walked around the back of the truck and started unloading the few supplies he’d brought.

“Wear these.” Toshinori threw him a pair of work gloves. He hoped he’d eyeballed the size right. “I trust you’re up to date with all your vaccines.”

“Uhm.”

“Hopefully no one’s dumping organic waste in here, but I’ll bring some traps if you see any rats. They won’t solve the problem, but it’s better than letting them scurry around freely.”

Midoriya’s eyes darted between the gloves and the beach with muted horror. “R-Rats?”

“Scared of rats?” Toshinori couldn’t help but tease. “Did I mention that I had to wade through the sewers for half an hour before finding you and the sludge villain the other day?”

Midoriya instantly looked mortified. “I-I’m sorry-”

“Not your fault! Don’t apologize!” Toshinori tossed his hands in the air. This kid desperately needed to learn the basic mechanics of humor. “I’m just saying that heroes can’t be squeamish! Rats come with the job, as well as a variety of nasty stuff and filth.”

“Right.” Midoriya followed him as Toshinori, cooler in one hand and bag of papers in the other, sat down on the last steps of the stairs. He picked an egg sandwich for himself and fished a folder out of the bag, opening it on his thighs and starting to read it.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Midoriya was still staring at him, as if awaiting further instructions.

“Well? Have at it!” Toshinori gestured widely at his new playground.

“Oh, uhm, okay.” The kid donned the gloves and took a single step towards the piles before pausing to look at Toshinori again. “I thought you wanted to ask me… stuff.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure you can handle working and talking at the same time without building up some stamina first.” Toshinori answered, eyeing the boy’s scrawny frame critically. “We’ll talk while you’ll be taking a break to catch a breather, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later.”

“Oh… All right.” Midoriya turned away, his arms hanging limply from hunched shoulders as he muttered to himself.  “...Where do I even start...?”

“From the small things. Working your way up to the heavier objects.” Toshinori explained patiently, then gave him a pointed look. “I get the feeling you’re procrastinating.”

The boy approached the closest stack… and did nothing. Was he ever going to stop waffling and get cracking? “Meanwhile, you’ll just, uh… do your own thing?”

“Surely you don’t need me to guide you through the elaborate process of moving objects from point A to point B, do you?” Maybe the kid detected the hint of annoyance in Toshinori’s voice, because he finally, finally set to grab the closest piece of junk- “...Oh. Okay, that’s not a great start.”

“What?” Midoriya stopped halfway through picking up what was probably the first electric fan ever invented, all the way back in the Iron Age. “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Bend your knees, not your back. Otherwise you’re going to- do you really not know this? Isn’t the correct way to lift weights Household Chores 101?”

“Oh, right, I know.” Midoriya rearranged his stance in a way that was less likely to earn him a slipped disk within the next two hours. “Do people really lift things like this though? It’s… a lot harder than the normal way.”

“For your legs, yes. For your back, no. You’ll thank me when you’ll be old enough to realize you aren’t made out of rubber.”

Toshinori munched slowly while he watched the kid carry his first loads to the truck. That act alone seemed to distract Midoriya to an amusing degree, his gaze often flicking to meet Toshinori’s eyes for just a moment before shooting back in front of him with blatant self-consciousness. Toshinori allowed the boy a few minutes of warm-up, just the time for him to finish his sandwich and sip a small cup of apple juice, before deciding to kick things into proper gear.

“Running from the truck to the heaps and vice versa would help you gain some endurance too, rather than leisurely strolling back and forth.” Toshinori commented as Midoriya walked past him. 

The kid stopped in his tracks and regarded him with a mix of horror and aversion that vaguely reminded him of death-row inmates when faced with their executioners.

“What?” Toshinori went on, unperturbed. “Are you expecting to get fit without getting tired?”

“No, of course not-”

“Besides, you’ll need to keep a swift pace if you want to clear the whole beach before the admission exam.”

“Wha- All of it?! Before the…” Midoriya sputtered, arms wrapping more tightly around the broken chair he was holding as if that was supporting him instead of the other way around. “Y-You never said…”

“But of course! They don’t do things by half measures in U.A., so why should you?” Toshinori grinned. “Plus Ultra, am I right?” 

Midoriya let out an incredulous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I can do something like that...”

“Depends on how much elbow grease you’re willing to put into it.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted minutely as he caught onto Toshinori’s seriousness. “But… but that’s impossible! No matter how hard I work, I can’t- I can’t move stuff like that!” He griped, pointing at the wrecked husk of a van half-buried under a mound of assorted refuse. “Even if I do my best-”

“And pray tell, what’s your best?” Toshinori stood up and walked to the kid, ditching the whimsical demeanor. If playful cajoling wasn’t enough to stir him, maybe it was time to bust out the big guns. “What’s the heaviest you can lift? The fastest you can run? The hardest you can push yourself? When’s the last time you actually tried your very best, and how did it fall short?”

Toshinori was already well and truly spent for the day, but he let the provocation and drive in his words stoke the fire within him, and it flared. The Symbol of Peace broke out of his diminutive shell among dramatic wisps of steam, ready to bestow his wisdom more effectively than his rickety counterpart ever could.

“Do you know what’s the only way to gauge your limits? Reaching them. And the only way to get stronger?“ Toshinori held out his arm between them, and clenched his fist resolutely. He relished the sensation of unyielding muscles tensing and bulging under his skin, tangible proof of the truth of his assertions. “Gritting your teeth and smashing past them! Little by little, but constantly!”

Midoriya had only witnessed that transformation once, poorly and by accident, and it showed. The chair had slipped from his hands without him even noticing, and now lay forgotten at his feet on the bare sand. The kid was gawking at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, the very picture of spellbound rapture. It was far from an unfamiliar reaction from whoever was graced by the Symbol of Peace’s presence, and yet it was still flattering, every time.

“You’ll never improve if you keep dwelling on what you think you can do now. Focus on what you want to do next. Visualize it as a clear goal. Build an image out of it, and then carve it in reality. If you really want that van to move, then it will move. If you really want this beach to be clear, then it will be. But you have to put your back, sweat and heart into making it happen!”

All Might captivated his one-man audience with the usual effortlessness, boisterous showmanship and honest positivity deeply intertwined in a way that boggled his detractors’ minds, but that felt so natural and appropriate to Toshinori. He’d made an art out of it, down to the rumble of his voice and the firmness of his gestures and the levity of his attitude, the art of highlighting and displaying the very best parts of himself so that they could resonate louder, better, brighter.

“So what will it be, young Midoriya? Will you clean up this place within the next ten months or not?”

“Y-Yes. I will.” That had done the trick. It was obvious from the way Midoriya’s back straightened and his expression toughened. It was obvious from the spark kindled in his eyes, a reflection of Toshinori’s own passion, still lacking in heat but full of potential.

“Then you’d better get down to it!” The hero sealed the deal with a radiant smile and a thumbs up. “Time’s a-wastin’!”

“Yes, sir!” Midoriya picked up the chair and dashed towards the truck to unload it there, then he immediately bounced back down the stairs and towards the nearest heap of waste. Toshinori observed the boy’s next rounds with his unwavering smile and few approving nods that kept the kid a bit lighter on his feet.

How much easier it was for All Might to touch people’s hearts. How much easier to inspire, to reassure, to nurture. How much easier everything was for All Might, really. If only that shining beacon of hope wasn’t shackled by the whims of a withering body, how much richer society at large would be for it. 

Toshinori let out a deep exhale that took more than just air out of him, and the flame settled down to a low glow. He couldn’t hold back a few wet coughs, and he promptly turned his shrunken back on Midoriya’s concerned glance to sit back on the cool steps.

Unfortunately, there was a lot more than motivation to strength training. Right off the bat, Toshinori could tell that Midoriya wasn’t going to last twenty full minutes of workout. He honestly didn’t know that an ostensibly healthy individual could reach the ripe age of fourteen with such poor body awareness. The boy had coordination and balance on par with a toddler’s: he stumbled on his feet, he tripped on sand, he nearly fell off the stairs twice before realizing that trying to climb them while his view was obstructed by the very items he was carrying might be a less than optimal solution. He seemed to be unaware of the existence of entire muscle groups, and Toshinori had to physically get up and mime movements for him to understand how to exert force more efficiently. Not to mention that he needed incessant needling lest his sprints quickly devolved into lax jogs. 

This whole training thing was going to be… an interesting experience, Toshinori could already tell.

Exactly sixteen and a half minutes later, the boy all but collapsed on the stairs beside Toshinori, gasping for air and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“B-Break?” He pleaded, quite redundantly. 

Toshinori took pity on his plight and pushed the cooler in his direction. “Have a drink.”

“Oh, thank you…” The lack of polite refusal made Toshinori suspect that Midoriya had forgotten to bring his own water. 

“There’s sports drinks and fruit juice in there too. Save the snacks for after you’re finished, food and heavy workouts don’t always agree with each other.” Toshinori had packed food primarily for himself, expecting their after-school meeting to last long enough for him to slot in one or two meals in the meantime, but he had taken care of adding a few extras for the kid. A good idea, because the possibility of Midoriya face planting on the ground halfway through out of sheer exhaustion seemed more and more likely by the minute.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to…”

“I promised bribes, didn’t I?” 

Midoriya flashed him the tiniest smile, and eagerly drank some water while Toshinori retrieved a small journal and a pen from the other bag. He skimmed through the list of preliminary topics he’d scribbled on the first page under Tsukauchi’s advice, wondering which one he should tackle first.

“All right.” Deciding to follow his instinct in spite of basic common sense, Toshinori decided to begin from the end. “These phone calls of yours. Give me an idea of what they’re like. The last one you had with your father was on April 1st, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it. Everything you talked about, as precisely as you can remember it.”

The good thing was that Midoriya’s memory was very accurate, and he was able to recall the whole conversation basically step by step. The less good thing was that said conversation was largely commonplace and unremarkable, consisting of very ordinary small talk and inquiries about school, grades, news, local events-

“Quirks?”

“Mh-hm.” The boy nodded. “We always end up talking about quirks, in one way or another. Quirks and heroes. It’s always been… a common interest.”

“Always, uh?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it since… forever, really. I’ve always found quirks fascinating, and he has lots of great insight to offer.”

“I can imagine...” Toshinori mumbled. Asking who had initiated that habit was probably pointless, it sounded like it had started too early in the boy’s life for him to remember - or even to understand if he had been deliberately led to develop that interest. Some intriguing nature-versus-nurture speculations could be made on the matter, but they weren’t likely to aid Tsukauchi’s case. “And in what way do you talk about them?”

“We… analyze them, discuss them. What is known for sure about a certain quirk, what can be deduced from footage and descriptions of its use, what its unmentioned limitations might be, how it could be further developed… You saw my notebook, right? Basically the kind of stuff that’s in there.”

“Wait.” Toshinori blinked. Could he have already stumbled into a treasure trove of All For One-certified information? “You mean that all that’s written in that notebook was dictated by your father?”

The kid almost choked on his next gulp of water, and shot Toshinori an almost offended look. “No! No, no, it’s all stuff I found out on my own! Well, almost all of it, there are some additions of his here and there, but… Uh, I’d say at least 90% of it is mine, and 10% of it is his… Actually, more like 95% and 5%-”

Well, that sounded less promising, but it was still a lead. “So he’s been basically teaching you how to conduct your own quirk analyses?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say teaching. I wish our school teachers were that engaging...” Midoriya let out a small sigh. “But I guess we do go about it a little like with school essays. Research, deadline, discussion and all that…”

“Pardon?”

“Well, every month we decide which heroes or quirks we’re going to talk about the next time - back in March we chose Hawks, Kido and Snatch for last month’s call, for example. During the rest of the month we gather information and draw our conclusions, and then we compare them during the next chat.”

“You’ve got quite the well-oiled routine going on there, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I think it’s just to give me a chance to make my own deductions with a clear head instead of on the fly.” Midoriya scratched said tousled head in embarrassment. “I bet he doesn’t even need to do any research, he’s always on the top of his game. I’ve never been able to, uh… one-up him, you know? He always knows what I’m driving at, and somehow he always brings my hypotheses two or three steps further than where I stop.”

Toshinori answered with a non-committal hum. No surprise there, the man was a living quirk storeroom complete with its own self-congratulatory, sentient database. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Oh, I’m not. It’s not like he’s ever… disappointed or angry or anything, even if I don’t get stuff. He just enjoys chatting, I guess.” That he surely did, Toshinori grimly thought. Way too much. “And I do too. It’s kind of like a game. Or a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“Yeah, uh… How can I explain…?” The boy drummed his fingers on the bottle as he collected his thoughts. “Okay, for example: one of the first things dad asked me about Hawks was what shape his wings are, and what I could deduce from that about his flight capabilities. Which was a trick question! I knew it as soon as I heard it, because I’d already figured out the real answer during my research.”

“Ah.” Toshinori blinked. “And… how is that a trick question, exactly?”

“Because Hawks doesn’t actually fly! Not like a bird, at least, so his wing shape doesn’t matter!” Midoriya beamed, and suddenly Toshinori realized that that was the first real, genuine, enthusiastic smile the boy had given him since they’d met. And, without exaggeration, not crying, panicking or grimacing made him look almost like an entirely different person. “He simply can’t! Humans can’t fly even if you stick a pair of wings to them, they’re just too heavy! Other heroes who can fly properly are mostly transformers, like Ryukyu - their whole bodies change when they shift, bone structure and all - but Hawks’ body is entirely human if you exclude his wings.”

Midoriya reached for his backpack and drew out the same charred notebook Toshinori had signed days earlier. An item so vital to the kid’s daily life that he always had it with him, apparently, even more essential than beverages during a workout session. A peculiar, if questionable, trait.

“What Hawks actually does isn’t flying, it’s levitating!” The kid held the notebook open before Toshinori’s eyes on a spread page dedicated to the hero in question. “He uses the second facet of his quirk, the telekinesis that allows him to control his feathers singularly! That also explains his incredible speed, which is completely unjustifiable if you only take into account normal bird flight aerodynamics. His propulsion is powered by his feathers - and each of them is quite speedy and powerful on its own, so it stands to reason that he would be lightning-fast when his wings contain so many of them pushing him in unison!”

Toshinori politely elected to wait for the onslaught of words to subside on its own, although he already suspected that it was a little like standing right under a waterfall and waiting for someone higher up to turn off the faucet.

“That said, that doesn’t explain everything about his quirk… For example, a single feather of his is capable of lifting and transporting an adult person, that has been extensively documented. Yet, he loses the ability to levitate relatively soon after dispatching too many of them - he becomes unable to float even when he still has at least several dozens of them attached to his body. We couldn’t figure out why that happens with the information we have. Maybe it’s harder for him to apply his power to himself, that is often the case for emitters. Maybe it messes with his proprioception, and he can’t control the feathers he hasn’t detached as finely as all the others…”

If there was one thing Toshinori was absolutely certain of at this point, it was that the kid wasn’t short on breath any more. “And this is the part you inferred on your own.”

“Yep! And dad agreed with all of it!” Midoriya’s smile grew even wider. It was astonishing how much it didn’t look like dad’s deranged, shark-like, nightmare-inducing sneer, and Toshinori could only send a quiet thanks to the heavens for that. “This is all guesswork though. Do you… by any chance, do you know if we were on the right track? I’d be really curious to know…”

“Ah, I can’t help you there, kid.” Toshinori felt suddenly on the spot. “I’m not acquainted with Hawks, nor do I know more about his quirk than the average person.”

“Oh, I thought… Since you’re both- I mean, I thought All Might may have met him during the billboard chart events, what with them both being in the top ten.”

“We passed by each other, yes, but we were never properly introduced. He wasn’t particularly interested in rubbing elbows with the old guard, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well, that’s his loss, for sure.” Midoriya, funnily enough, pouted. “Pity, I was wondering… Even if he doesn’t fly, he does flap his wings in a way that resembles a bird’s. I wonder if that’s intentional, to mislead opponents and prevent them from figuring out how he actually moves. Or maybe he does it subconsciously…”

“I’m afraid I really don’t know…” Toshinori had never met Hawks on the field either, it wasn’t common for accidents to require more than a single big-name hero to intervene these days. Especially if one of them was the number one, who often showed up first and invariably solved any incident in mere minutes-

Toshinori suddenly came back to himself and almost facepalmed in frustration. Why was he letting himself be interrogated about completely irrelevant hero trivia? He was the one asking questions! God, he was bad at this. “And your father had nothing to contribute about all this?”

“Not about this specifically, but he did raise a point I hadn’t considered.” Midoriya looked up at the sky, once again lost in his very wordy, very deep lucubrations. “Hawks has an astonishing control on his quirk. He can use his telekinesis to move hundreds of feathers at once, to sense his surroundings, he can even harden them and turn them into weapons. He made Fierce Wings into an incredibly versatile ability, and he’s so young too… And yet, there’s no record of him attending any hero school or training facility in Japan, nor abroad. He claims to be self-taught, but… admittedly, it is hard to believe. One would think he must have had some excellent education and tutoring to make it into the top ten when he was only eighteen…”

Toshinori didn’t reply. Midoriya looked back at him when the silence stretched, and whatever he spied on Toshinori’s face made him immediately backpedal. “I-I mean, it’s odd, but, uh… not suspicious per se, nor a sign of anything… weird or bad about him. There are many heroes who, ehr, prefer to keep their personal history private, especially geniuses, and that’s fine! They have all the right to! Same goes for their quirks, it makes total sense-”

Toshinori massaged his left temple slowly. Right, better just nip this topic in the bud before it got irredeemably out of hand. 

He peered again at the notebook in Midoriya’s hands. So All For One had been imparting occasional, amicable quirk analysis lessons to the kid for a good decade, which sounded suspiciously like the kind of knowledge a potential underling or successor might use. On the other hand, Toshinori could think of a million other ways for the Symbol of Fear to instil skills in his son - all of them remarkably more efficient, safe, manageable and ruthless. The whole thing was contradictory in a way that didn’t sit right with Toshinori.

“Mind if I take another look at that?” Toshinori had been in a bit of a rush the first time round, and he’d only taken a cursory glance at the contents of Midoriya’s notes. But if there was a chance of those pages containing words uttered by All For One himself, a more thorough examination was in order.

“Not at all! But, uh…” Midoriya was fast to hand out the item, but his eagerness to assist was even faster to dampen. “Are you going to retain this as evidence too?”

“Mh, I don’t think that will be necessary...” Right, the poor kid’s house had probably been ransacked even further after Toshinori and Tsukauchi’s first pass. No wonder he was worried about losing this prized possession too. “But if it will be, I can make a copy of it for you to keep, so you won’t lose all your, uh, data.”

“Oh, thanks! That would be great!” The kid perked up instantly. He was so easy to please. “Although… I guess I should make a copy of it myself anyway. It’s already kind of… unrecoverable. I could detach the pages with All Might’s sign and preserve those separately, and just photocopy everything else…”

Toshinori’s imagination mercilessly supplied him with the picture of a new addition to Midoriya’s bedroom decor, his five-second poorly-made signature hung to a wall in an elegant frame. He repressed a groan, deliberately neglected to point out that he could simply provide as many new authentic signs as needed, and directed his attention back to the scorched edges of the notebook. “Right… What happened to this thing, anyway? Did someone put it in a toaster?”

Midoriya let out a totally not nervous chuckle as he wrung his hands in a totally not nervous fashion. “Oh, uhm... You know…” Toshinori didn’t, actually, but the kid didn’t elaborate either. 

Well, he was allowed to have a modicum of privacy, still. Toshinori let the issue drop, and nudged the boy with his foot. “You seem well rested. Back to the trash you go.”

Midoriya shuffled to his feet less than enthusiastically, and resumed toiling away at his task. While still checking on him often, ready to poke and prod at the first hint of sluggishness, Toshinori browsed through the kid’s notebook. While the contents were indeed worthy of attention, they were scarce in quantity. It must be rather new, since less than a quarter of the pages had been filled. However, the promise of more material to be discovered made Toshinori withhold his judgement on the matter for the time being.

Once that was done, he continued his perusal of the few files Tsukauchi had already put together about the Midoriya case. Toshinori had practically begged his friend to let him have an active role, any active role in the case: he simply couldn’t bear to twiddle his thumbs until someone else kindly pointed him to All For One’s hideout for another overdue thrashing. He simply needed to be involved, or he’d probably start crawling up walls within a week.

Questioning the kid was pretty much the only suitable occupation for him, currently… Well, it was either that or questioning Mrs. Midoriya, and Toshinori was fairly sure that his brain would leak out of his ears if he heard any more details about All For One’s romantic escapades. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to investigative work, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was going to spare no effort to earn some results. If that meant poring over reams of police reports in the hopes of spotting some helpful clue, so be it. At least it would keep him busy, and busy was good, especially in trying times.

He’d applied the same logic to Midoriya, in a sense. The boy seemed the kind of person who’d very easily overthink himself into a negative spiral, even in less dire circumstances than the messy family drama he’d found himself into. It would do him good to focus on a better future, rather than on his depressing present. Giving him a goal to set his sights on would keep him going more smoothly. 

At first Toshinori had thought to motivate him towards his dream career, but it turned out that the boy’s strategy about the admission test was… nebulous at best. Not that he could truly blame him for it: fourteen-year-old Toshinori didn’t exactly have a multi-step plan towards becoming the Symbol of Peace either, one couldn’t help being somewhat scatterbrained at that age. 

The illegal dumping site had been a serendipitous discovery, and cleaning it up was the perfect type of goal to incite the boy towards. It was very obvious and straightforward, and required no intricate planning: he simply needed to roll up his sleeves and buckle down. And the muscle he’d build while doing it would serve him well for heroic purposes too, so it was a win-win on all fronts. Not to mention that some good old physical exertion would help him sleep at night, which he was still struggling with, if the persistent bags under his eyes were of any indication. Toshinori dearly missed the times when that trick still worked on him too, when driving himself to the brink of exhaustion was a guaranteed one-way ticket to restful and regenerative dreamland. Nowadays, if he accumulated even a sliver of excessive fatigue, all he got was… well, fatigue. And a metric ton of unrelenting body pains and lasting debilitation.

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly and unremarkably. Midoriya drudged through many rounds of garbage disposal with decreasing energy and verve, but that was to be expected. Toshinori collected more barely relevant and generally useless information, but that was to be expected too. They were both in for the long haul, there was no point in getting upset about it. Eventually the sun started to set, and Toshinori beckoned the boy back to him with a handwave.

“You have more of these?” Toshinori said, tapping his index on the big 13 on the cover of the notebook still on his lap.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Could you bring them with you next time?”

“All of them?” Midoriya seemed frazzled. 

“If you still have them, yes. Would that be a problem?”

The boy scratched his head as his cheek reddened slightly. “N-No, not a problem, but some of them are really… I finished the first one when I was seven. They aren't just outdated, they’re… ehr, childish. Just doodles and misspelled ramblings.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll be grading them.” Not yet, at least. Toshinori smirked at his own private joke. Maybe he should grade them, as a small practice run. “I just want to give a quick read to a few things here and there.”

“O-Okay…”

“Good. Well, I think we can call it a day.” Toshinori rummaged in his cooler to fetch a chocolate energy bar, and tossed it to the exhausted boy. “Catch.”

Despite the warning, Midoriya did not catch, and the snack bumped against his chest and fell to the ground with a sad clack. Reflexes were MIA too, apparently. What a rare specimen of a prospective hero Toshinori had crossed paths with.

“T-Thank you!” Midoriya immediately picked it up, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth as he hopped into the passenger seat of the truck. Whether it was real hunger or fear of passing as rude, Toshinori couldn’t tell.

The drive to Midoriya’s house was brief. The boy was too tired to chat - as if they hadn’t already had their fill for the day. When they arrived and Midoriya climbed out of the vehicle to be on his way, Toshinori finally addressed one last pressing issue.

“Tomorrow your father is going to call you.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s eyes dropped to the ground. Maybe Toshinori should have brought it up sooner. Way to end the meeting on a sour note.

“How are you going to handle that?”

“I’m not.” The boy shrugged. “Mom will tell him I just got my tonsils removed. It's… safer for now. I think.”

Toshinori nodded. “Let’s take a day off then. Even if you can’t speak, he might want to say something to you, and it would be strange for you not to be at home while recovering.”

“Okay.”

He looked so very small, and so very young like that, bathed in the warm hues of sunset, but with no real warmth to his eyes and demeanor. He was too small and too young to be dealing with this shit. No one was old or big enough to deal with any of All For One’s shit, really. Toshinori would have to make sure no one would have to ever again.

“Thank you for your help today. It’s very appreciated, believe me.” Toshinori offered, with his most sincere smile. “Feel free to text me or Tsukauchi if anything comes up, you should be able to reach at least one of us at any hour of day or night.”

“Okay. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too, kid.” Toshinori watched him until the door of his house closed behind his back, then he drove off.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #izuku midoriya #All Might #Toshinori Yagi