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#but damn........ i .......... the turbulent really seals the deal
spamgyu · 1 month
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So the T/A thing is Turbulent vs Assertive. Assertive is basically you having an assertive sense of self. You're self assured, have a stable sense of self, high self esteem, not extremely self conscious.
Turbulent is basically the opposite of that. So like, high anxiety, self conscious, not very high self esteem, might be persuaded too easily, etc
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"high anxiety, self conscious, not very self esteem, persuaded too easily."
i..........
feel so called out....
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bulletproofscales · 3 years
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wrote a wg-dysphoria fic for comfort purpouses
it is very cliche and kind of a word dump and kinda has no plot
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32177632
Tags: FtM hobi, trans man hoseok , insecurities , weight gain and gender disphoria , gender discomfort , hurt comfort , chubby jung hoseok , namseok , literally pure fluff
1.8k
Hoseok doesn't understand himself most times. Or more specifically, on days like this. Where the mere thought of feeling his body resting against the mattress is cringe inducing. But not as bad as the idea of leaving his bed, starting his day, going outside.
He and Namjoon had plans. Plans that they've been looking forward to for weeks, waiting until they both had a completely free day all to themselves. Hoseok can't just stop everything because he woke up feeling like a gross sack of skin, meat and bones. The entire day was planned to their liking too: favorite restaurants, hiding spots in the city, places to shop, and ending the day probably going back to Namjoon's just to hold each other until the next morning. Nothing too special, really.
They loved the domesticity of days like this.
Hoseok should feel excited right now.
He musters to stand up, and just pushes through normally. Yes, he is a responsible adult and doesn't have to stop his entire life because of some mental turbulence. It's easy for the most part, these days he always wakes up hungry. It's all good until he has to get dressed…
See? It was Hoseok's idea after a few months of dating, to start gaining weight. Thinking, if he grew enough, the parts of his body where weight settled the most would become less noticeable. No matter how slim he was before, there was no escaping the personalized curse that seemed to settle all of his weight at his hips and thighs.
And gaining weight worked! Namjoon was on board with any idea that would help his boyfriend feel more comfortable, and Hoseok found himself feeling genuinely better in his own skin.
Yet... he could barely have the courage to undress right now. Let alone try on something to wear for today, knowing everyone was going to see him on it. Today, it felt as though the plumpness did nothing to hide his body the way Hoseok wanted it to. All he could focus on now, was the fact that if he left with Namjoon today, everyone was going to think Hoseok was his girlfriend.
The thought alone makes it harder to swallow. The roundness all over his body whIch he had come to love, the thickness of his legs that hid his butt. The fat that piled on his torso hiding the curve of his waist and taking attention away from his chest. Even his hands, which had grown a little chubby, were perfect to hide the daintiness in them. All of that on a day like this, just seemed to amplify the pear form that his body grudgingly took in spite of him.
His hands rub at his hips, soft and squishy to the touch, but Hoseok wouldn't dare touch. Only Namjoon gets to touch them without making the older tense up in discomfort; the only thing that makes the squishing of the fat bearable is the deep voice that always comes after it, pouring praise to Hoseok's ear making his shiver in the best of ways.
He doesn't know how he'd react if Namjoon was to touch him now, though. Hell, he didn't know how the younger would react to Hoseok's poor excuse. That's a lie, he knows Namjoon will be nothing but accepting if he so much as suspects his boyfriend is having a bad dysphoria day.
But it doesn't make the guilt go away.
So he pushes it down, rather grabbing something that will cover his body at all, even if it won't hide the parts he doesn't want to see. At least it won't show so much skin.
Hoseok is trying outfit number 6 by the time the doorbell rings. Absolutely not prepared to greet his boyfriend, Hoseok takes one last disgusted look at himself in the mirror before rushing to the door.
"Hey." Namjoon tries to say subtly, but the grin on his face is so wide and eager, it grips at Hoseok's heart. Guilty as he smiles back. "You ready?" He has to slightly look up to meet Namjoon's face; brain unhelpfully reminding him of just how tall his boyfriend is, how masculine he is without even trying.
Ugh, there's no way he is getting through today, is there?
"About that..." Hoseok's smile turns sad, apologetic. Heart breaking at the way Namjoon's expressions drops. "I don't think I feel like I can handle going out today..." He fiddles with his own hands.
"Oh...'' That's Namjoon's own response, and Hoseok understands the disappointment. Can only imagine how tiring it must be to have to cut not only their daily life, but plans they've been looking forward to for weeks, just because Hoseok doesn't feel good about himself that day. He probably thinks the only way for him to progress is to push himself to go out and live despite the dysphoria, to suck it up; maybe even doing that would be the masculine thing to do.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Seok-ah." The voice that speaks is so gentle, though. Warm hands cupping at his soft cheeks. He doesn't manage to answer, rather looking at Namjoon with wide, anxious eyes. "Lets go inside, yeah?" He smiles softly, hands settling at his shoulders before guiding Hoseok back into his own house.
It definitely feels like Namjoon isn't as upset as he should be, being unfair to himself and too kind to Hoseok's dysphoric taunturm. But the older doesn't know if he wants to bring it up, just in case he changes Namjoon's mind. He has to, though.
"It's not that big of a deal J-Joon, we can still go out, I just need to find something to wear." He tries to reassure as Namjoon guides him to the couch. However, the younger has known Hoseok for far too long to buy that.
"If you start feeling better, then we can go out." He smiles innocently, gentle; but knowing fully well that Hoseok was just trying to belittle his experiences.
A weak smile shapes Hoseok's lips into a heart. "It's not fair how you use your knowledge of me against me." He complains, though it has absolutely no bite to it.
"You can't stop me." Namjoon grins back smugly, sitting beside Hoseok and leaning for their lips to meet. The older sighs in defeat; he's lost.
Yet it feels absolutely nothing like losing. At all.
"Fine, but I want your hoodie." He demands, bratty. Hoseok would feel guilty about it if Namjoon didn’t immediately comply with all his commands. Eagerly pushing his hoodie off, silver of tan skin showing as his shirt rides up along with it; which Hoseok absolutely does Not stare at. An quickly snatches it off his hands, before sliding it on his own.
Probably, stealing your boyfriend’s hoodie which fits significantly bigger on him, would be considered a femenine thing to do. But Hoseok will be damned if he doesn't let his nose sink into the fabric and immediately melt at Namjoon’s scent. Only enhanced by Namjoon’s arms, wrapping around his shoulders.
Hoseok never told him to do it, but on days like this Namjoon makes sure to keep his hands off the parts he knows his boyfriend is insecure about. He appreciates it, even if the idea of wrapping his chubby arms around Namjoon’s thick waist seems silly considering their different bodies. But it does make him feel masculine, so he guesses the younger’s strategy works perfectly; as they cuddle closer on Hoseok's couch.
The silence is comfortable for a while, Namjoon tucks his head into Hoseok’s shoulder, as the older gets to caress the warm skin at Namjoon’s lower back.
But oh, Hoseok could never be so lucky.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Namjoon’s voice whispers into the older’s soft neck. And he can only sigh, parly endeared, and partly annoyed.
His boyfriend is so caring. Too caring
“Do I have to?” He groans, and Namjoon takes it as his cue to tangle his fingers gently through the hairs of Hoseok’s nape; soothing.
“I’m asking if you want to, silly.” The older doesn't have to look to know Namjoon is rolling his eyes.
“Nothing happened in particular, cus I know you are worrying about that.” Hoseok grins at the way he feels his boyfriend's body sigh relaxed at that reassurance. “I just woke up feeling this.”
“You better not be using the fact that ‘nothing happened’ as a way to invalidate your feelings.” He scolds gently.
“And you better not be using your knowledge of me against me!” Hoseok whines in an attempt to lighten the mood, and pats his own back when he hears Namjoon’s laughter against his neck.
“I mean it, hyung.” He raises his head from the safe space of Hoseok’s neck; who’s still trying to get past the flips of his stomach at the sound of Namjoon calling him ‘hyung’. “I wouldn’t spend our free day any other way.” And as if to seal the deal, he lands a gentle peck onto Hoseok's nose.
He feels it in his chest, the bursting love he feels for this man. How his body doesn’t feel squirmy at the feeling of his body against Namjoon, just from having him close, having him be treated with such...normality.
It feels like he is broken out of a transe with the movements of Namjoon’s hands at his shoulders. “Y-you know… You don’t have to avoid touching me.” He chuckles a bit nervously.
“O-oh.” His expression grows bashful. “I don’t actually know like--I don’t want to make you uncomfortable!” He whines.
“Namjoon you’re like three times my height, it is not comfortable. You can touch my hips.” It even manages to burst giggles out of Hoseok’s chest.
“Okay, okay.” The younger chuckles as well, as he begins to untangle his arms off Hoseok’s shoulders. And they rather find a comfier route settled at the plush of his hips. And it always feels unfamiliar the first time; as if Hoseok avoids and ignores them so much that they only exist with Namjoon’s gentle squeezing.
His eyes close, as the younger kneads the pillowy skin. Hoseok doesn't realize he is humming until a chuckle bubbles out of Namjoon’s chest. Soft body entirely melted against Namjoon’s firmer one. “You should’ve just told me you needed this.”
“It's hard to admit I need it sometimes, the gentler touches.” The older speaks softly, as Namjoon’s hands rub up and down the curve of Hoseok’s waist, thumbs caressing at the sides of his belly.
“Aish, you speak like I’m not gentle with you ever.” Namjoon groans quietly, rolling his eyes. His hands squeeze at Hoseok’s waist unaware. And okay, he does not mind this.
“I know I know. But I overthink everything when I get like this, you know that.” He cups the younger’s face, whining softly. “I like it though.. I just feel like I might not deserve it sometimes.” He confesses with an apologetic smile.
But Namjoon doesn’t falter, still grinning with so much love. “That’s alright, I love reminding you.” He leans to Hoseok’s hand still cupping his cheek, kissing it.
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carewyncromwell · 3 years
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Cinderella AU time again at last, baby!! Let’s do this!
Florence’s “Christmas Witch” is inspired by Italy’s Le Befana, who like Santa Claus/Father Christmas and his many variations serves as a holiday gift-giver to young children. Given that in this universe, Florence is more favorable toward magic than its rival nation Royaume, I figured them having a similar tradition was appropriate.
The background depicted in this picture is based on this window from a guest apartment in the Chateau de Chambord in France, though of course this is the outside of such a window, rather than the inside. Damn it, do I hate backgrounds with a burning passion. XD;;
In my headcanon, Orion suffers from anxiety. Anxiety disorders aren’t uncommon among children who were raised in orphanages, and a common visual cue for anxiety is clasping one’s hands in front of them, which Orion does constantly in the game Hogwarts Mystery. Plus two types of therapy prescribed for dealing with anxiety are meditation and regular physical activity (like Quidditch! :D). For safety, though, I also want to put in a trigger warning for this part -- be advised that there will be some discussion of PTSD and war-related trauma, around the middle of this.
Previous part is here -- full tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!
x~x~x~x
The morning after Royaume’s Winter Festival, Skye was surprised to find Orion in Florence’s palace library. Admittedly he was balancing on one foot with one leg crossed over the other on the step near the top of a tall ladder while reading, which was very typical of Orion -- but the book was a very thick volume on the weaving of various fabrics, and he was devouring it with intense interest while vaguely humming a tune under his breath that Skye didn’t recognize.
“Oh willow, willow, willow...willow...”
Skye cleared her throat to try to get the Prince’s attention. “Hey...Orion?”
Orion, however, was too focused on what he was reading. It took Skye striding over, stating his name twice more, and finally giving the ladder a light smack to get his attention.
“Orion! Mind coming back down to Earth for a minute?” she said, her voice oddly tense. “I need to talk to you.”
Orion stopped humming and looked up from the book at last, his expression rather pleasant.
“Skye...you’ve returned from the front.”
Skye frowned. “Yeah...Dad’s nearly recovered from his injuries. Penny Haywood wanted to thank you for the herbs you picked up.”
Orion inclined his head slightly. “I’m glad to hear your father’s condition has improved.”
Skye nodded, looking faintly guilty.
“...Orion...I’m sorry about what I said the other day,” she said uncomfortably. “I was just so worried about Dad and his troops, and you being all wrapped up in this girl who works for the enemy...it just...it rattled me, I guess.”
“Florence and Royaume should not be enemies for all time,” said Orion patiently. “If there is to be peace, the mistakes both sides have made in the midst of the War will have to be forgiven.”
“I know,” muttered Skye. “And...well, I know how you feel about the War -- about war and fighting in general. It just feels like what you’re doing is so slow, and people are hurting, and...”
She hung her head.
“I know it’s no excuse, for what I said, but...I am really sorry.”
Orion’s black eyes softened. “It’s already forgiven and forgotten, my friend.”
Skye looked very relieved. Her face burst into a smile.
“...Thanks, Orion. I gotta admit, I...kind of want to meet this ‘Lady Cromwell’ now, after everything you told McNully and me about her. She sounds a bit too good to be true, but...well, I never really thought I’d ever hear of a Royaumanian defending magic...especially one of their courtiers.”
Closing the book in his hands with a quiet snap, Orion lowered the leg he had bent beside the one he was balancing on.
“Fortunately I think you’ll have the chance to do so very soon,” he said with a smile. “Last night was an unquestionable success.”
He leapt down the rungs of the ladder with alternating feet, all the way back down to the floor with a light thump.
“I went to the Winter Festival and met the Prince of Royaume himself.”
Skye gave a start. “You what?”
Orion was beaming from ear to ear. “It was all thanks to Carewyn, appropriately enough. She was the one who arranged it so that he could sneak out of the palace disguised as a peasant and attend the Winter Festival, even with the King and Queen keeping him so strictly contained. Prince Henri himself even said as much, that it was all Carewyn’s doing. Imagine...because of her, the two princes of rival nations were able to meet on completely neutral ground as equals. And now that we’ve been introduced and I have a better fix on Prince Henri’s character, I have a great opportunity to open negotiations in full.”
Skye looked rather impressed, even as her face twitched with discomfort.
“That’s...smashing, Orion,” she granted halfheartedly.
Orion raised his eyebrows curiously. “I would say so...but your aura doesn’t seem to agree with your words.”
With a deepening, guilty frown, Skye reached into the hanging pocket attached to her faded blue skirt and took out a sealed letter, which she handed to Orion.
“The King asked me to bring this back for you,” she said lowly, as Orion opened it and began to read. “He’s requested you and McNully to join him at the front.”
Orion’s face had lost all of its pleasantry, leaving it very stony and unreadable, as his black eyes scanned the letter once, twice, three times.
“McNully’s gone to get the coach ready,” said Skye lowly. “He said that he’d meet us just inside the castle gate.”
The ride from the Florentine royal palace to the battlefield at the northern-most border of Royaume and Florence was a stressful one. Once anyone exited the capitol’s walls, the War was immediately much more visible, since most of the War was fought on Florentine soil. Plus many of those magicians who specialized in casting spells were encouraged to settle closer to the wealthier hubs of the country, so that they could cast temporary illusions to obscure certain buildings whenever the opposing army got too close. That was how people such as Florence’s court magician, Severus Snape, had attained such a respectable status.
Orion spent the entire coach ride sitting with his legs crossed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and his eyes closed so he could meditate. Despite his eyes being closed, however, when they arrived at their destination, he could hear the shrieks of wheels on old wagons, the whinnying of unsettled horses, and suppressed moans of pain, and he could smell the burnt wood, gunpowder, and indescribable smell that could only be labeled as “death.” Even just the sounds and smells brought all the memories flooding back -- his and his mother’s house set ablaze...the rearing horses with Royaume blue and red on their saddles...the deafening explosions and the gray ash that rained from the sky...his mother’s light-less eyes and his own labored breathing and clutching, shaking hands...
Orion had never been blind to how run-down much of his country was, but its problems only became more apparent the closer one got to the border, and especially to the war front. Every building was brand-new and cheaply built, for they no doubt had been built and rebuilt several times over and their occupants didn’t have the funds to build it back as well as before. And then once one approached the army camp itself, there were just about no buildings or fortresses at all, since it was so hard to keep them from being demolished. Instead all the Florentines really had were tents that wouldn’t stand up to most any elements. In the freezing cold of winter, many had been crowded under groves of trees, in a vain attempt to try to protect them from the snow that had buried their neighbors, and there were large bonfires set up everywhere where the soldiers gathered, just to warm their bundled hands and feet. One small fire featured a cooking pot and some sort of foul-smelling soup -- it took Orion a moment to realize the smell was burning leather.
It was tragic to think of how many men back in the Florentine capitol like Lord Malfoy had become very rich because of the increased danger of shipping goods through war zones, while the men who actually had to stay in that war zone had to cook their own boots and eat them for sustenance.
Orion did not open his eyes even when the carriage came to a stop. It was proving harder to find his center of balance when the smell of gunpowder outside made the memory of terrified screams and crackling wood pound against his eardrums.
Inhale. Exhale. Let go. Find your center. Balance.
He felt someone lightly touch the top of his clasped hands. When he opened his eyes, he saw that it was Skye.
“...We’re here,” she mumbled. Clearly she knew she was stating the obvious, but didn’t know what else to say.
Orion looked from her to McNully sitting next to her, his eyes very dark even though his face was rather unreadable. McNully looked very grim as he slowly opened the door to the coach. As soon as he did so, someone outside announced very loudly,
“Presenting his Highness, Crown Prince Cosimo Amari VII, heir to the throne of Florence!”
With a swallow, Orion slid his legs down to the floor and, unclasping his hands at last, he hoisted himself up as best he could, took hold of the door frame, and climbed out of the coach. He held his head up high and didn’t shrink, but his eyes were rippling turbulently like oil under candlelight as they surveyed the barren landscape.
Men by the dozens were being carried away on stretchers toward a large off-white medical tent -- even more were being carried away from it or, worse, not even coming close to it at all, for it was already too late. They were too badly injured for Penny Haywood’s potions to save -- for as powerful as magic could be, life and death were inevitable things. The gray-haired flower witch who’d given Orion the charm around his neck had told him so, the Prince recalled, as his hand absently came up to trail over the circular pendant. He’d asked her if she could stop someone from dying, and the sweet grandmotherly woman had looked upon him with an incredibly sad, pitying look.
“Death isn’t something anyone can stop, I’m afraid. One can put it off, certainly...I’ve been able to give people some extra time with my potions, but only by putting in a lot of my own time and energy. And even after putting in that time and energy, there are still plenty of people who I couldn’t work fast enough to help. That’s one of magic’s Chief Principles -- potions take time, but their effects last longer.”
The Prince of Florence tried to bring the cooling, calming sensation that had accompanied the charm around his neck when the woman had first given it to him back to his mind, as the smell of death that hovered over the camp made his heart chill and his stomach churn.
Orion could sense Skye climbing out to stand beside him, and not long after, McNully had lowered himself into the wheeled chair the footman detached from the boot of the coach. By the time McNully and Skye had joined him on the ground, a royal entourage had approached them, introduced by the captain who’d announced Orion’s arrival --
“Presenting his Majesty, Cosimo Amari V, Master and Commander of the Florentine Army, Lord of the Southeastern Sea, King of Florence!”
An older man about Orion’s height with a short mane of graying dark hair and just as strong of a jaw strode forward. Although he greatly resembled Orion visually, however, their physical attitudes couldn’t be any more different: as relaxed and modest as Orion was, the King of Florence appeared traditional and proud. They did, however, both appear quite detached, in their own way -- Orion because he didn’t want to be on the battlefield at all, and the King because he seemed to not be entirely sure how to address his adult son. But frankly, considering that Orion had been snatched out of poverty and made Crown Prince just to replace his older half-brother, Cosimo VI, after he was assassinated by the Royaumanians earlier that year, that wasn’t completely surprising.
“Cosimo,” the King greeted him formally. “Good that you’re here.”
Orion didn’t respond, his face close to impossible to read as he clasped his hands in front of him again.
The King’s emerald green eyes scanned his son’s face briefly before he brought up a hand to take hold of his shoulder and lead him further into camp.
“Come -- we have much to discuss...”
Skye and McNully followed Orion and his father to the largest and brightest white of the tents, pushing the flap with the official Florentine gold-and-green-flower emblem aside to walk inside and gather around a large table. There was a large map laid out on it with many dark green and blood red miniatures and model canons scattered across the surface. Skye’s father, General Ethan Parkin, was also present -- he had to sit in a chair rather than stand like almost everyone else due to him missing a leg and being forced to lean on a crutch, but he sat up very straight with boastful levels of pride. Once he, his generals, and the Prince were all gathered around the table, the King immediately set about discussing McNully’s newest military strategy, which would involve splitting the army in half so as to covertly attack Royaume’s forces from two directions, so as to not only better pinpoint where their canons were currently positioned and avoid them, but also to prevent them from retreating.
It soon became apparent to everyone in the King’s tent, however, that Orion was not in the mood to discuss any of this. He stayed quiet for the majority of the meeting, clasping his hands in front of him, and his eyes remained on the far edge of the map on the table, far away from the battlefield. In his mind, he tried to find his center, even though the sounds of the anxiously whinnying horses outside brought back the memory of the ones that had nearly stampeded him so many years ago, when his part of town was set ablaze.
Find your center. Find balance. Find peace.
Carewyn’s soft, content face as she sang under the willow tree beside the Royaumanian palace moat rippled over his mind, and he felt his heart rate slow.
“Oh willow, willow, willow...shall be my garland...”
Orion tried to stay there on that lake bank in his mind as the King discussed how essential it’d be to prevent any Royaumanians from getting in or out of their camp during their siege -- for, as General Parkin pointed out, if any help arrived, then it would prevent the Florentine Army from wiping out their enemy and ending the War. McNully himself looked rather unsettled by the thought of “wiping out” the enemy and was quick to say he’d only intended for the Royaumanians to be fenced in, like in a game of chess, but the King of Florence clearly didn’t think it was enough.
“This newest batch of drafted soldiers are our last resort. Unless we wish to expand the draft to take all those over the age of 18, regardless of health or status, to take their place, we must bring this War to an end, once and for all. And to do that, our enemy must be decisively crushed.”
He looked up at Orion.
“That is why, son, I’ll need you to take command of the left flank of the army.”
“What?” said Skye and McNully, both taken aback and horrified.
“Your Majesty,” McNully said very quickly and firmly, “I-I fully intended that General Parkin would -- ”
“Believe me, lad, I’d normally be chomping at the bit to do it myself,” said General Parkin with a rather sour expression. “But considering that I can’t even properly stand yet, his Majesty decided it might be a good idea for me to...sit this one out.”
“Prince Cosimo will need to know our army as well as I do,” said the King firmly. “Even when we bring this War to an end, he’ll need to be able to lead them in battle, in order to protect our kingdom. And from what I understand, Cosimo, you’ve been gathering intelligence in Royaume itself for a month now without arousing any suspicion...I believe your flair for stealth would be perfectly suited to the task at hand.”
“I’m afraid I must disagree,” said Orion in a very quiet voice.
The King halted. Orion had looked up at his father out the side of his black eye when he’d first addressed him, and although his expression had been very restrained, his eyes had gone very dark. His hands clasped a bit tighter as he faced the rest of the King’s military officers.
“This meeting is adjourned. Please excuse me.”
He turned on his heel and made as if to leave. The King, however, roughly grabbed his shoulder.
“It most certainly is not,” he said, his green eyes full of both disbelief and urgency. “Cosimo, this is not up for debate -- I require you here, to lead the men.”
Orion didn’t turn around. “...You require my aid, to lead our men in this battle?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” said Orion levelly. “Then should I choose not to cooperate, you will not be able to act on this strategy at all.”
All of the King’s officers looked appalled as Orion left the tent. The King’s eyes grew very wide, flickering with desperation as well as some righteous anger, as he chased after him, stepping in front of Orion to prevent him from leaving.
“Cosimo, this is our chance to end the War once and for all! To bring peace to Florence, to right all of the wrongs the Royaumanians have done...”
“Can one right any wrongs by committing more wrongs of their own?” murmured Orion.
“War is not that black and white, my son,” said the King sharply. The surrounding soldiers were starting to take notice. “Sometimes the ends must justify the means -- it’s something all young kings must learn, and I would prefer you learn it before I’m gone, rather than after making a big mistake.”
Skye and McNully had rushed out to join Orion.
“All people make mistakes,” Orion said softly. He tried to leave for a third time, but the King refused to let him pass.
“But you are the Crown Prince of Florence!” said the King. He was clearly getting frustrated now. “Therefore your mistakes are much more consequential -- when you make mistakes, the people you cherish, that you want most desperately to protect, pay the price!”
His father’s rising volume wasn’t helping Orion’s mood. His anxiety had already been spiking in the tent, but it was only getting harder for him to focus on his breathing with the King continuing to press the issue and the unpleasant, sickening smells and sounds of the battlefield surrounding him.
“Think of your friends, Cosimo,” said the King in a strained voice, “your home, your subjects...”
His friends... Skye’s and McNully’s faces rippled over Orion’s mind, before being joined by KC’s, Badeea’s, the Weasleys’, and Andre’s at the Festival...Carewyn’s...Carewyn rushing up to him at the palace gate -- sighing tiredly and handing him her uncomfortable white heels -- dancing in spirals around him, her red lips turned up in a smile and her ginger hair flying free --
Another battalion was coming through, with stretchers and horses loaded up with wounded soldiers -- the smell of death was suffocating --
“Think of your mother, Cosimo,” said the King. “Could you bear it if any other little boys lost their mothers, the way you did?”
“Don’t talk about -- !” gasped Skye, looking righteously furious, but McNully quickly grabbed her arm to urge her to be quiet. 
Skye’s objection wouldn’t have helped, though. The mention of Orion’s mother, combined with the smell of fire and the sound of horses, brought the images flooding back -- his mother’s light-less eyes -- his own gasping for breath --
Orion closed his eyes, trying to find his center, even as his clasped hands started to sweat.
Return to Carewyn -- return to the lake shore, to her voice --
Carewyn’s brother was on the battlefield, fighting for Royaume -- if Orion charged into battle, could he not end up bringing about her brother’s death? Could he bear seeing Carewyn’s heart broken, upon learning that the only family she had who truly understood and loved her was dead? Could he bear the thought of all that blood being on his hands...the blood of his soldiers and Andre’s -- the blood of Carewyn’s brother -- ?
“This is your responsibility, Cosimo,” said the King, as he seized Orion’s shoulder and squeezed it. “You must lead our men into battle -- ”
SMACK.
To everyone’s complete and utter shock, Orion had actually ripped out of the King’s grip, backhanding his hand away with force.
The King flinched back, looking stricken. Orion stared at his father, his black eyes very wide and devoid of both consciousness and its usual composure. There was no rage or violence in his posture, but his face was very white and his hand -- still hovering in mid-air -- was trembling slightly.
“Forgive me,” he said at once, his voice very soft and unusually fragile. “Just...please, don’t touch me.”
He strode past his father, right over to the coach he’d arrived in. Instead of climbing inside, however, he immediately yanked one of the black horses free from its restraints and climbed up onto its back.
“Cosimo!” the King cried, but it was no use. Orion had already sharply flicked the reins and rode off into the distance with speed.
Orion didn’t stop riding until he’d once again reached the palace gate of Royaume. He ended up tossing off his well-tailored olive green doublet on the way, so as to leave his more peasant-like white undershirt behind. His hair also came loose of its ponytail in transit and Orion didn’t care in the least to try to restrain it again. His heart was pounding so fast and his blood was so spiked that all he could focus on was finding peace -- and in that moment, peace was a person. He just needed to hear Carewyn’s voice...needed to see her face...
Orion tied his horse up not far from the palace and hopped the castle wall. He knew Carewyn wouldn’t be expecting him -- before the Winter Festival, they’d said they’d meet up on the 9th, which was coincidentally after Florence’s Christmas Witch festivities. Even so, and even though Orion knew Carewyn would worry about him getting in trouble, he couldn’t think of the risk to himself. His heart was just too clenched with anxiety for him to place his focus on anything other than reaching her -- even though once he reached the castle, the tension that squeezed every nerve in his body in a vice grip only increased with the knowledge that he had no way to figure out where in the castle she’d be or how to get her attention. As fate would have it, however, as Orion paced through the gardens, clasping his own sweating hands, a familiar tune rippled over the air.
“The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head...
The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said...”
The song itself was one even Orion knew -- it was a rather well-known love song in both Florence and Royaume, and one of his mother’s favorite songs when she was alive. But more importantly, the voice singing it was the wonderfully emotional, deep-as-the-sea tone he’d so needed to hear. Orion’s heart gave something like a spasm of relief as he swept around the perimeter of the palace, staying low behind the hedges, until he spotted an open window in a nearby tower where the voice was coming from. When Orion reached the tower in question, he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing against the wall back-first, closing his eyes, so he could just focus on her voice and let it wash over him.
He was suddenly so short on time. The King was so desperate to end the War that he was now open to slaughtering the enemy, if it served that goal. And as confident as the King was that the plan McNully had suggested would put an end to the Royaumanian army for good, Orion himself doubted it would or even could. The cycle of vengeance could only continue ad infinitum until either everything was destroyed or one royal decided to be the better person and stop the fighting. But how could Orion hope to pursue the diplomacy he’d wanted, once the King had done something so ruthless? How could he hope to appeal to Prince Henri or his parents, after such a severe, fresh wound? And Carewyn...how could he face her again, if her beloved brother died because of his own father’s orders?
He needed time. He needed peace. He needed...
“...is waiting somewhere...somewhere for me...”
Breathe. Find your center. Inhale. Exhale.
Orion barely knew what made him do it, but he knew he had to get Carewyn’s attention somehow. So he squeezed his hands, opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and started to sing the words in return.
“The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head...”
Carewyn had been cleaning one of the guest suites when she suddenly heard her own song echoed back to her from outside the window. She straightened up abruptly.
Who...who is...?
The voice was male and oddly wispy -- the singer was certainly not trained or very comfortable singing, but he still sounded so earnest...almost desperate.
“The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said...
The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see,
And the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me --
Is waiting somewhere...somewhere for me...”
Carewyn leaned her broom up against the wall and looked out the window. When she looked down, she caught sight of a familiar mane of dark hair and slightly-too-clean white shirt.
“Orion?”
She recoiled from the window at once, her hands flying to her messy ginger ponytail as she looked over her burnt orange and beige servant’s dress. She was in no state for him to see her like this --
She looked into the mirror hanging up on the closest wall and swallowed.
Carewyn knew she was being foolish -- Orion was going to find out sooner or later that she was nothing but a servant...but...
She’d liked being a lady, for him. She’d liked being someone he could respect. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with the truth of who she was, really, it was more...her being ashamed of herself. She hadn’t had a choice of whether or not Andre or KC or even the Weasleys knew that she was the child of Charles Cromwell’s disowned youngest daughter and a dead-beat merchant with no dowry or prospects. But Orion hadn’t known her. She’d been able to be who she wished she could be, if just for a moment, when they first met...and in every moment after, she found herself that bit more reluctant to put that mask away.
Carewyn wanted to be a brave, noble, graceful, sophisticated lady for Orion. She wanted to be someone he could admire, instead of the insignificant, pathetic, lying fake who’d sold her and her brother’s souls and futures away forever, just to try to save his life. A girl who, truthfully, was no better than her terrible family -- who had brought every bit of unhappiness she’d ever experienced on herself...
Orion started the song again down below, in an attempt to get Carewyn’s attention -- Carewyn, up above, quickly fashioned her hair into a pretty braid in front of the mirror and sang under him as an echo, as if wanting to reassure him that she could hear him.
“The sweetest sounds (the sweetest sounds)
I’ll ever hear (I’ll ever hear)
Are still inside my head --
The kindest words (the kindest words)
I’ll ever know (I’ll ever know)
Are waiting to be said --
The most (the most) entrancing (entrancing) sight of all (sight of all)
Is yet for me to see,
And the dearest love in all the world...
Is waiting somewhere for me... (Waiting somewhere...)
Is waiting somewhere...
Somewhere for...me...”
Once she was finished with her braid, Carewyn quickly dusted herself off and dashed over to the window.
“Orion!” she whispered only as loudly as she dared.
Orion opened his eyes, turning around and looking up at Carewyn with a very soft smile adorning his lips.
“Beautiful as ever, my lady,” he complimented her, inclining his shoulders in a short bow. His hands were still clasped in front of him. “Like the sweet Nightingale that sang for the Emperor.”
Carewyn took several quick glances around, visibly worried. “Orion, what are you doing here?”
Orion raised his eyebrows. “Standing, at present. Though I was singing just a moment ago -- or at least trying to. My voice cannot compete with yours, I’m afraid.”
Carewyn couldn’t completely keep the smile off her face, even despite the concern she felt. Her smile, however small, was like a warm, soothing hand on Orion’s heart.
“You’re lucky that no one else heard you!” Carewyn hissed down with as much reproach as she could manage.
Orion smiled wryly. “Most assuredly. I’m certain that Madam Ali and the Weasley brothers would hardly enjoy my ‘accompaniment’ as well as they do yours.”
The sweat on his hands had gone cold, making Orion actually shiver a bit as he found his body temperature and heart rate finally starting to calm. His smile flickered slightly on his face, creating a much more pensive and murky expression.
“...Will you take a ride with me, Carewyn?” said Orion, very abruptly. 
Carewyn blinked. “What?”
Orion squeezed his own hands together, but tried to keep his voice level and his shoulders straight.
“I realize we’ve made no plans today, and that you are enamored of the work you do at court...but you so enjoy riding your horse, and we’ve not yet taken a ride together, out into the country. There are such beautiful valleys east of here -- perfect for stargazing, I should think, once the sun sets.”
Carewyn’s eyes drifted away, back into the guest suite she was cleaning. The windows weren’t washed yet, and she still had to bring the dirty sheets down to the laundry so she could have them clean in time for tomorrow morning...
Sensing Carewyn’s discomfort, Orion said in an oddly insistent voice, “I’ll wait for you, should you say yes. Whatever you must do, I’ll wait until you are finished.”
Carewyn’s gaze snapped back down to Orion in surprise.
She’d never heard him sound like that before. As mysterious and unreadable as his face was, she could still sense that something was off. Perhaps it was how his black eyes searched her face -- or perhaps it was the tenseness in his clasped hands.
Carewyn knew she was in no state to go riding with Orion in her dusty servant’s uniform, especially when she still had work to do...but truly, she didn’t have to wash the windows today, after having already done them yesterday...and she could always fetch the sheets early the next morning before coming up to the guest suite to change them out.
If something is wrong, I can’t leave Orion to deal with it alone, she thought to herself.
Even if she was only a fake and a liar, Carewyn wanted to be there for him. He deserved to have someone there for him...even if it was just her.
And so with a swallow, she looked back down at Orion with a very solemn, but gentle look.
“...I’ll need to change into something warmer and fetch my horse...but I’ll be down in thirty minutes. Can you meet me outside the gate?”
Orion’s heart flooded with relief that he couldn’t completely keep off of his face.
“I’ll be waiting, my lady.”
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silenthillmutual · 4 years
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what Classic Film(TM) you should watch based on who your fave Danganronpa 1/2 character is
disclaimer - obviously as a film dude i’m gonna say you should watch all of these. but maybe watch the one correlating to your fave first!
Makoto: 12 Angry Men (1957, dir. Sidney Lumet) - strong themes of justice, it’s about a jury trying to determine a man’s guilt. it’s basically what Makoto does for the entire game. you’ll also like it if you’re a fan of Phoenix Wright.
Sayaka: A Star is Born (1954, dir. George Cukor) - it’s all about a girl’s rise to fame and how her relationships change with that. there’s three versions of this film, most recently with Lady Gaga. 
Mukuro: Vertigo (1958, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - themes of murder and hiding your identity, losing yourself to a cause.
Leon: Animal House (1978, dir. John Landis) - a comedy about a fraternity. it’s THE college frat movie and i think Leon would enjoy it a lot.
Chihiro: WarGames (1983, dir. John Badham) - two teenagers might have accidentally started a world war during the cold war by trying to play computer games...fitting for the series, no?
Mondo: On the Waterfront (1954, dir. Elia Kazan) - struggling to do the right thing and being sort of frustrated about your circumstances as they pertain to class and missed opportunities. being dragged into bad situations by family. also Marlon Brando is a bicon and very hot in this movie.
Taka: Rebel Without a Cause (1955, dir. Nicholas Ray) - a lot of turbulent shit happens to three teenagers over the course of 24 hours. one of - if not the first canonically gay teenager on film. i think we all know by now that James Dean was mlm, but so were the director and Sal Mineo. big bi polyam vibes; if you like chishimondo as a ship you’ll probably like this film too.
Hifumi: Akira (1988, dir. Katsuhiro Otomo) - had a hard time figuring out what to put for Hifumi, but overall i think if nothing else he’d appreciate how impressive the animation was (and honestly, still is) along with the fact that the mangaka was also the director. so although there’s a lot cut out (the manga had not finished before the film came out), it’s still roughly the same plot as the manga.
Celes: Dracula (1931, dir. Tod Browning) - probably the most iconic iteration of Bram Stoker’s novel, this is the one staring Bela Lugosi. not terribly true to the novel from what i remember, but it’s peak aesthetic and exactly the kind of thing she’d enjoy.
Sakura: Rashomon (1950, dir. Akira Kurosawa) - finally getting onto films i haven’t actually seen but that are on my list. sakura’s another person i had a hard time deciding on a film for, but the “several characters telling different accounts of the same plot” reminded me a bit of her case in the game. 
Hina: West Side Story (1961, dir. Robert Wise & Jerome Robbins) - admittedly i had a different film in mind for her to start with, but Maria’s final monologue fits with Hina’s motivations during Sakura’s case.
Toko: Gone With the Wind (1939, dir. Victor Fleming) - another one i haven’t actually watched yet, but it’s based on a famous novel, described as “epic historical romance.” i think that vibes with Toko pretty well.
Byakuya: Citizen Kane (1941, dir. Orson Welles) - if you’re really interested in film, you’re gonna be made to watch this sooner or later. famous for being the “best film ever made”, it’s more or less about newspaper moguls like William Randolph Hearst - who is also the main reason why this film is famous at all. it’s not exactly a flattering depiction of those kinds of people and boy, did that ever piss Hearst off. if he hadn’t made such a big deal trying to keep Citizen Kane from seeing the light of day, something much better might have made it to the top spot. 
Hiro: The Music Man (1962, dir. Morton DaCosta) - based on the Broadway musical of the same name, a “travelling salesman” (read: con artist) starts to work his latest con on a gullible small town, but actually starts liking the people in it.
Kyoko: The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - not to be confused with the other Hitchcock film from the 30s also titled The Man Who Knew Too Much. this is the one with James Stewart and Doris Day. it’s a highly suspenseful film that gave us the song “Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)”.
Junko: Gaslight (1944, dir. George Cukor) - ever heard the term “gaslighting”? this is where it comes from! based on a play in which a woman’s husband psychologically tortures her into believing she is going insane.
Monokuma: Duck Soup (1933, dir. Leo McCarey) - all Marx Brothers films are as utterly silly (and sometimes as incomprehensible) as one of Monokuma’s MonoTheatres. i watched about half of Duck Soup and had to stop because it was finals week and i was supposed to be doing something other than losing my shit.
Hajime: It’s a Wonderful Life (1946, dir. Frank Capra) - you probably already know this film. if you’re Christian you know it as That Film Your Parents Watch Every Year On Dec 24th Around Midnight. if you have seasonal depression, don’t watch it then; warning for suicidal ideation. it’s supposed to be uplifting. your mileage may vary on that one. 
Impostor: To Kill a Mockingbird (1962, dir. Robert Mulligan) - i don’t have a good reason to pair these two up other than gut feeling. as far as film adaptations of books go, it’s pretty damn good, and Atticus Finch is the original DILF. themes of childhood innocence and racism. 
Teruteru: Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961, dir. Blake Edwards) - apparently much different from the novella on which it is based, but i think Teruteru would really dig the aesthetic and romantic vibes of the film. Holly Golightly is probably the original Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
Mahiru: Rear Window (1954, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - like It’s a Wonderful Life, chances are good you know this film - or at least, you’ve seen its plot recycled a hell of a lot. a professional photographer recovering from a broken leg thinks he witnesses a murder take place and is determined to get to the truth.
Peko: Seven Samurai (1954, dir. Akira Kurosawa) - another one on my to-watch list, but it’s oft referenced and remade in film. a village hires seven ronin to protect them from bandits who will return to steal their crops. 
Hiyoko: East of Eden (1955, dir. Elia Kazan) - i’ll be honest here, i didn’t really know what to put for Hiyoko because i’m not sure i understand much about her, but i seem to remember her family playing a pretty big role in her being Like That and for “shitty family” the first two things to come to mind were this and Giant. and unless you like 3-hour long movies about the state of Texas, i’m not about to recommend you watch Giant.
Ibuki: A Night at the Opera (1935, dir. Sam Wood) - another Marx Bros film in which they help a girl both to be with her lover and to achieve her dreams of stardom as an opera singer. the kind of silly, manic thing i think Ibuki would like.
Mikan: The Shining (1980, dir. Stanley Kubrick) - i hate hate hate putting this on here, but since this is for film and not books i couldn’t exactly state to read the book. the book is about the cycle of abuse. the movie is more about... a trapped man going crazy in a spooky hotel. 
Nekomaru: It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963, dir. Stanley Kramer) - comedy about five groups of people racing to get to a large sum of money buried by a recently escaped convict they stopped to help out after his car crash. it’s a comedy, and just kinda seemed like Nekomaru’s thing.
Gundham: The Seventh Seal (1957, dir. Ingmar Bergman) - i watched this in like 10th grade and all i really remember is a man playing chess with Death and if that doesn’t say Gundham Tanaka to you, i don’t know what does.
Nagito: North by Northwest (1959, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - i don’t really have a reason for this one either but it’s a spy film and i think komaeda could get behind that kind of intrigue. 
Chiaki: Metropolis (1927, dir. Fritz Lang) - not to be confused with the anime, this is a 1927 German expressionist film that seems to be about socialism and unionization. it’s also famous for its (purposeful) use of the Male Gaze and being one of the first sci-fi films ever made. be warned: it is a silent film.
Sonia: Strangers on a Train (1951, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - another one of those films you’ll get told to watch if you’re interested in the queer history of film, i was gonna put something else but honestly the character of Barbara kinda reminded me of Sonia. a famous tennis player meets a man on a train who attempts to plan a double-murder with him.
Akane: My Fair Lady (1964, dir. George Cukor) - i was trying so hard not to double up on the post about musicals, but Akane really does have Eliza Doolittle vibes. they’re both feral and nothing would be able to really domesticate them. for whatever it’s worth, this film and the musical on which it is based is itself based on the play Pygmalion, in which your typical rich cishet white dude bets he can turn any street urchin into a real lady because he’s just that good. you might know the plot better as Pretty Woman.
Kazuichi: A Streetcar Named Desire (1951, dir. Elia Kazan) - i don’t really have a good excuse for this one, either; i haven’t even watched it yet (although i have read the play on which it is based). all i’m gonna say is i want Souda to have his gay awakening via Marlon Brando, as we all do.
Fuyuhiko: Casablanca (1942, dir. Michael Curtiz) - despite his love and adoration for Ingrid Bergman, Humphrey Bogart decides fighting Nazis is more important. i think Fuyuhiko would like the aesthetic, and the film. don’t let him know but i think he’d probably cry watching it.
Usami: To Sir, With Love (1967, dir. James Clavell) - issues of race and class intersecting in a film about a teacher working with inner city students. i was going to put Singin’ in the Rain here, because it’s what Usami would want people to watch...but i think this better fits the effect she wants to have as a being. 
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Three Soldiers and a Baby | Part One
summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?
pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventual) featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
warnings: none, this is all very introductory
a/n: Here we go! The start of something I’ve been working on for a little while and finally managed to finish! As this is being posted I’m actually on a plane from Greece back to Canaduh for 12 hours. Pray for my sanity and my knees!
*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
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Late mornings were not typical for Steve Rogers, but that didn't keep him from enjoying them. By now he should have been halfway through his early run before heading back home for a shower and a large breakfast. Still, a break from his normal routine was not unwelcome. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes he turned to look at the empty space beside him. This was another part of his normal routine that he wouldn't mind changing; waking up alone. There was nothing he could do about that if he stayed in bed, though, so Steve tossed aside the bed sheet and got up from the hard mattress. After finding a pair of sweatpants to pull over his boxers and a zip-up hoodie to cover his bare chest, he made his way to the kitchen.
The Brooklyn apartment was by no means as large or luxurious as the Compound, but it was everything Steve wanted in a place. The area was great and central to a lot of local business. The bedrooms were a decent size and the living room and kitchen area was a large open space with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the city. It wasn't the typical penthouse, but this entire level of the building was dedicated to just this apartment and the only way you could access the floor was by key. There were a few other security protocols set-up as well, of course. You could never be too careful. The last thing anyone wanted was an unwelcome visitor showing up at Captain America's front door. Not just his door since he also shared this space with two of his best friends and teammates. Having Sam and Bucky as roommates was just another great bonus. Well, most of the time.
Sam Wilson was seated on one of the stools by the kitchen island sipping from a glass of orange juice. His attention was seemingly fully focused on his tablet, but the second Steve entered the room all bets were off.
“Why did I move in with you people? What could have possibly possessed me to do such a thing? Desperation? Pity?” He tilted his chin upwards and pursed his lips as though really thinking about it. “Maybe I've just lost my damn mind.”
Steve rolled his eyes as he poured himself a glass of orange juice and took a long sip. “What is it now, Sam?”
“Not what...who.”
“Alright.” Steve conceded with a sigh. “What did Bucky do now?” Sensing that this wouldn't be short, or pretty, he took a seat at the counter beside him.
Last night the three roommates had gone out to a nearby bar. Not for any particular reason other than maybe seeing Bucky off before his solo mission. A few years had passed since his stint in Wakanda and after taking some much deserved time to himself Bucky agreed, however reluctantly, to return to active duty. There were of course some concerns, but it didn't take long for Bucky to prove himself and become a powerful addition to the team. His friendship with Sam was a little turbulent at times, but it was mostly due to the fact that they enjoyed pissing each other off. A night out at a bar was usually a recipe for competition.
“You wanna know what he did?” Sam said. “I'll tell you what he did. Picture it, a beautiful Saturday morning after a night out with no hangover in sight. No missions. No plans. No responsibilities. Just me and half a pizza in the fridge calling out her siren's song to me.”
Steve chuckled, but once he saw the lack of humor in Sam's eyes he cleared his throat, motioning for his friend to continue.
“So there I was, humming some Earth, Wind, and Fire as I made my way to this very kitchen when none other than the edgelord himself comes barreling into me. No shirt, no shoes, stinking of his nasty ass cologne from the night before, but wait,” Sam paused, pretending to sniff the air suspiciously. “There's another scent desperately clinging to life despite the overwhelming odds.”
Steve grimaced knowing what that meant. How out of it was he that he managed to sleep through the confrontation? “Okay so Bucky ate the pizza. It's not a big deal. Besides I don't remember anyone actually laying claim to the leftovers. You know the rules.”
Clearly, that wasn't the end of it though as Sam raised his hand in declaration. “Oh but it didn't end there! Barnes' reign of bullshit managed to completely ravage my entire morning in the span of twenty minutes. The guy is going for a record at this point.”
Apparently after eating the pizza Bucky then went on to finishing the last of the toothpaste, using Sam's towel to dry himself off after his shower, and topping it off by drinking the freshly-brewed coffee that Sam made for himself before Bucky was finally out of the door and heading for his mission briefing.
“He's back on his bullshit, Steve.” Sam folded his arms in front of his chest and stared at the other man. “Tell me this isn't about that girl still.” When Steve didn't answer right away Sam threw his hands in the air. “It's been two years! He can't still be hung up one girl.”
It was actually closer to a year and a half, but yes Steve did think it was about that girl. They never really knew who she was, only that for awhile there Bucky was the happiest Steve had ever seen him. He spent more nights away from home and would come back in the morning with a love-struck look that not even Sam could wipe away. When asked if they could meet her Bucky would dodge the subject or say it's complicated. Turns out it was a lot more complicated than they thought when he came home one day telling them that it was over. It was Steve's hope that during one of their nights out he would find someone new and move on.
“The guy just needs to go on a couple dates and get laid.” Sam suggested.
As much as Steve doubted it would be that simple he remained hopeful. “Did you see anyone leave his room this morning?” The other man snorted and shook his head, which was condescending enough to earn a unappreciative growl from Steve. “What I meant to respectively say was no. Barnes was solo this morning.” A sneer exposed Sam's white teeth. “Just like you.”
The blonde groaned and leaned back on his chair. He wasn't exactly doing any better when it came to finding love. There were girls he would see for a little while, but nothing that turned out to be more than just a fling. “What the hell is wrong with us?” Steve mumbled.
“What the hell do you mean by 'us'?” Sam scoffed indignantly. “Don't group me in with you two hopeless fools. I just so happen to be seeing someone.”
That got Steve's attention. “Bullshit. You do? Since when? Who is it?” The barrage of questions and disbelief in his tone did little to improve Sam's already sour mood. “What the hell, Steve? Do you know who you're talking to? Look at this.” Sam stood up, holding his hands out as he showcased himself with a slow twirl. Only Sam Wilson could pull off a silk robe and boxers set. “I'm a masterpiece. It was only a matter of time before I was swept off my feet and taken off the market by a beautiful woman.”
If there was one thing that could be said about Sam Wilson it was that he never lacked in confidence. Steve smiled at his friend. Sure, he was still a little shocked, but genuinely happy for the guy. “That's one lucky lady. What's her name?”
“Ah-ah. Nice try, Rogers, but these lips are sealed. ” He mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away a key. “All you need to know is that she's a lady agent and she has good taste. Otherwise, I'm a man of mystery and I do not kiss and tell.”
Steve frowned. “But you're always prying into mine and Bucky's love lives.”
“Do as I say, not as I do, Cap.”
“Yeah fine, whatever.” Steve got up from his seat and made his way back to his bedroom to change. “I'm going for a run. And don't worry. I'll talk to Buck when he gets back.”
“Yeah, you better.” Sam called out. “Cause it he does just one more thing to piss me off, I will not be held accountable for smothering him with a pillow the next time he passes out on the couch.”
After three hours of running, Steve was on his way home and yet no closer to figuring out a way to help his friend. He scoffed and shook his head as he passed through the elevator doors. How could he help Bucky out of his funk when he didn't have a clue for himself? He was deep in thought as he rode up the multiple floors wishing that the answer to Bucky's happiness would appear before him. Though, when the doors finally opened to his floor, he was greeted by something that wasn't there when he left. There on the floor right outside of their door was what looked like a basket. A very particular kind of basket. One that shouldn't be sitting out front of anyone's door let alone the home of three bachelors. Before he could take a step closer, the basket started to cry.
part one >> part two
a/n: There we have it, the series has begun! What did you think? Are you ready for what comes next? I hope you liked it and are as excited as I am for more! 
Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!
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fenrys-moonbae · 5 years
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Lily of the Night--Chapter 3, A Day in the Market
“It seems like the storm front hasn’t passed,” Anelisse noted, the old shawl wrapped around her shoulders billowing in the turbulent winds, their whistle an eerie call through the salt drenched cliffs, “I wonder how long it will remain in the Bay for.” “Who knows,” Celeste replied, her eyes cast skyward as she watched gulls circle to and fro, clearly unsettled by the weather, “means the fishermen will be out of work until it passes though.” A feeling of dread settled over her, knowing that each day without work were days where they would be without food. If it hadn’t been for the money Adder gave her Celeste wasn’t certain what would have happened.
“Atleast you get the day off.” Anelisse reassured, always looking for the light side to Celeste’s dark. She lazily twirled a strand of her ashen hair around her finger, “We can spend some time together for once. Consider it a sign of good fortune.” Celeste smiled in response, she hadn’t had much time with her sister since she’d taken to going out to sea with the fishermen, just their nightly conversations over their meager meals before they slept. This had been the first time in nearly a year that the two had ventured to town together, had really ventured anywhere together. Yes, maybe this storm was good fortune.
Celeste and her sister made their way down the old path towards town, the weight of the copper in her pockets welcoming, especially since it seemed she was to be out of work until the storm passed. Passing the old fork in the road they came to the edge of town, the point where the grass and dirt changed to pressed cobblestones, the sounds of the market quiet for once due to the weather.
Passing by the baker Celeste’s nose was onslaught with the smell of fresh baked bread and pastries, a memory tinkling at the back of her mind of a place she had long since forgotten. Anelisse let out a groan of longing, her lips pressed together in a tight line.
“It’s been years since I’ve had fruit pastries,” she murmured, her eyes glistening with memories as she glanced over the pastries propped in the windows, “when father was here we would go every evening to the baker and share one. Apple, peach and cherry in the summer.” A brief glimmer of happiness crossed her face, “We’d walk the shore after, Father and Mother swinging me between them as the waves danced along the shore.”
“I imagine it was wonderful,” Celeste supplied watching the happiness fade from her sister’s eye, reality reeling itself back into place, “it will be wonderful like that again someday, I’m certain.” When that day was coming she wasn’t sure but for Anelisse she’d be willing to look forward to such a day.
“Yes it will,” Anelisse’s voice chimed as she pulled the old faded umber shawl about her shoulders, her worn cream colored dress less than a barrier against the chilling wind, “we’ll have pastries every evening one day AND we wouldn’t have to share.” A tinkling laugh.
“I’d be frightened to share a pastry with you,” Celeste drew dryly, her eyes glancing over her sister and a smirk tugging at her lips, “I’d be fearful of my life to even try to take one from you. Who knows you might even eat me with that appetite of yours.” “That’s not true!” Anelisse shot back, her cheeks flushing red, “I have a lady like appetite mind you. Sweets just….seduce me.” Celeste snorted, an amused sound. “Did you just describe the pastry as seducing to you?” A grin broke across her face as she faced her sister, who was still clearly flushed, and crossed her arms over her chest, “I wasn’t aware you were into that sort of…..sexual endeavor. Lady like indeed.” “Celeste!” Anelisse growled, her face now several shades darker than it had been moments before as she glanced around checking for listening ears, “that’s not appropriate! You shouldn’t refer to…such things so casually.” “Don’t worry,” Celeste waved her hand nonchalantly, her fingers coming up to her lips and making a zipping motion, “my lips are sealed. I swear I won’t tell Anidre of her daughter’s deepest darkest desires.”
“You’re foul,” Anelisse hissed, swatting her sister across the shoulder, “you must of been raised by a flock of brutish men if your feminine mind is filled with such ridiculous thoughts.” Anelisse regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, Celeste flinching ever so slightly at the mention of her past.
“Celeste,” Anelisse said, realizing her mistake, it was the one thing that they never talked about- “I didn’t mean to…I..”
“It’s fine,” Celeste responded coolly, her face once again set in a wide grin, her previous discomfort hidden cleverly beneath it, “and some lady you must be to walk about in your knickers all the time.” A distraction, anything to get away from the subject of…..that.
“I do not strut about in my knickers!” Anelisse yelled stomping her boot in annoyance, catching the attention of others in the market, their concerned glances shifting to the two girls outside the bakery, “If either of us prefer a state of undress it’s you!”
“And?” Celeste cocked her head, a devilish grin on her face, “I’m perfectly accepting of that, you, however, have not come to terms with the wildness that lurks inside. A sexual vixen only waiting to be unleashed, untamed and ready for ravishing-”
“You’re spouting nonsense-“ Anelisse blurted, her hand waving wildly at Celeste, trying to clamp shut the mouth that would not cease it’s spewing but was interrupted as a young handsome man with dirty blonde hair approached the girls, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “What was this about a sexual vixen?” The man asked, his voice thick with the accent that all of the people in Vanica had, his hand idly scratched his scruff covered chin. Celeste’s shoulders suddenly went ridged the playful aura about her shifting to one of lethal intent. The amusement left her face immediately as she drug her eyes from her sister to the intruder on her left. “Why Celeste wouldn’t be referring to you Miss Anelisse would she?”
A look of horror passed over Anelisse’s face as she slowly turned to face the man, the planes of his handsome face lifted in an amused grin. The blush deepened, something that would have seemed entirely impossible.
“No Lukas,” Celeste’s features were set in a cool wall of stone but her eyes were icey as she shot daggers at the man, “I was referring to the bitch in heat in the alley so desperately calling your name. Why don’t you tend to her.”
“Celeste,” Anelisse reprimanded, her arms suddenly wrapped across her chest and beneath her shaw, attempting to hide herself as best as possible, “There is no need to be rude.” Oh, there’s plenty reason to be rude Celeste thought as she wedged her way between the man and her sister, enough to throw his sorry ass off a cliff.
“Your sister speaks the truth,” Lukas supplied, running a hand through his golden hair, “I was only wanting to join in on the teasing. It has been ages since I’ve seen either of you in town.” His attention directed towards Anelisse, his eyes taking on an almost feral sheen, “Especially you Miss Anelisse, you look as lovely as ever.” Taking her hand, he gently pressed a kiss to the back of it, his lips lingering.
“T-Thank you Lukas,” Anelisse replied, the flush in her face now for an entirely different reason, “I’m glad to see you are doing good as well.”
“Always,” he replied, his voice a sultry baritone purr, “especially now that my Father has struck up trading agreements with several merchants on the mainland, the hardships that this island knows should soon cease.”
Celeste snorted, loudly and rudely. “Maybe if you’d share some of that wealth your father has then that would actually be the case.” Lukas turned to Celeste, looking down his nose at her as though she were vermin. “The wealth of my family will always be shared amongst my people, human people that is.” A brilliant cruel smile broke across his face, “and that wealth would be extended to all those who need it amongst my people,” a glance towards Anelisse his eyes burning with molten desire, “all they need do is ask.” “We don’t need your handouts Lukas,” Anelisse spoke quietly but firmly from behind her sister, her silver eyes hard and mouth set in a tight line, “now please go about your business so we may tend to our own as well.”
A breathless laugh. “Of course Miss Anelisse, I did not mean to offend,” A bow followed with a flourish of his hand, Celeste contemplated kicking in his knee caps, before he straightened his form. “Please enjoy the market on this fine day,” he made to walk to Anelisse but Celeste wedged herself further, “and, Miss Anelisse, please do not forget my proposition.” “She’s already told you no,” Celeste growled, shoulders backing as she evaluated his stance, calculating just how much effort it’d be to deal with the fallout of ripping his throat from his neck and ceasing his endless blabbering, “so move your ass before I move it for you.”
“It wouldn’t be difficult for you would it,” Lukas drew, his eye fixating on Celeste as he shifted his neck, three long haunting scars showing from beneath his collar, “how easy it would be for you to kill all of us on this island really, with that strength and agility of yours. Killer’s born in beautiful bodies that’s all the fae are,” his smile grew wicked, “even among their own kind it would seem if those scars on your back are any indication-“
Celeste saw red, her body tight ready to strike, consequences be damned-
“Enough of you,” Anelisse’s voice had gone dark, it’s previous waver gone as she shoved herself between the man and Celeste, her shoulders backed and head high, a queen among mortals, “Be off before I personally see to it.” Without so much as a glance towards him Anelisse hooked her arms through Celeste’s and pulled her away, directing their attention towards the tailor further down the road.
He did not pursue.
The blood was pounding in Celeste’s ears, rage wracking her whole being as she seethed quietly through her teeth. Killing him would be so easy, so incredibly simple-
“Forget him,” Anelisse commanded her sister, the previous confidence still sent on her features, “He is not worth the consequences of ripping him limb from limb. He is all bark and no bite, he knows he can’t win against you and instead provokes you with words. Cool your temper.”
Celeste heaved one heavy sigh from her chest, shoving the anger down and sealing it beneath the surface. She would have her chance to deal with Lukas Pennington, royal fool of Vanica, one day. He had been a nuisance in her life since the incident on the cliffs so many years ago and had taken it upon himself to harass her by any means necessary including directing his attentions and affections towards the one thing that meant everything to Celeste.
Stepping inside the tailor’s shop Celeste was encompassed in a well-tended wooden paneled room, the smell of leather oils prominent. A small counter sat at the back of the room in front of a door that lead to the work room in the back and across the walls hung rolls and rolls of fabrics, ranging from subtle greens to rich hues of red and purple to the palest creamiest beiges. Celeste remembered the first time she had been to this place was the day after she’d woken up the first time on this island and Anidre had brought her here to be fitted for a new set of clothes.
Behind the counter sat a middle-aged woman with brown hair and brown eyes, her thin brows narrowed in concentration with the fabric in her hands, clearly concentrating on the details of her stitching.
“Pennelope,” Anelisse greeted, startling the woman from her work and causing her to drop her needle in surprise, her hands flailing. Anelisse winced, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” The woman looked up from behind the counter, her face breaking into a wide smile. “It is good to see you girls, come in come in!” Stepping from behind the counter she made her way towards the two woman her round face lit up with pleasure, “It has been too long since I’ve seen either of you! My goodness how you’ve both grown.” She looked over both of the girls, her brow furrowing.
“You’re still wearing those clothes I made for you two years ago,” she clicked her tongue in annoyance, “I told you to come to me when they started to wear out and I would make new ones for you.” “We could never ask that of you Pen,” Celeste said as the woman scrutinized her old white shirt, holes having formed in the shoulders and the waist, “we haven’t had the money to pay-“
“Hush,” the round woman said, waving her hands rapidly, “this is nonsense, I should have known you two would be wearing rags before asking for any help.” Her accent was unlike the rest of the occupants of Vanica, a slow draw clearly derived from the country fields in which she had been raised, “Come along let’s get you measured so I can get you two dressed in something that’s not literally falling to bits off of you!”
The girls glanced at one another, small smiles tugging at the corners of their lips. For all the ignorant cruel people that inhabited this tiny town there were a handful of very kind individuals who tried to look out for them. Individuals who had watched the girls grow with nothing but each other for help and warmth. Pennelope being one of those individuals.
She had come from a wealthy farm family on the main island with a rich dowry, had fallen in love with a simple cobbler and had married him, against her parents’ wishes, and settled in the small town of Vanica. They made a decent living catering to the fishermen and their families on the coast but had an expansive savings that allowed them to be generous in their dealings.
“Anelisse,” Pennelope chastised, “You’re dress is tight in the hips and chest, you’ve clearly grown since last I fit you, you shouldn’t be flouncing about in something so skin tight, especially with these foolish young sailors flitting about.” A blush crossed her cheeks as she murmured her feeble apologies.
“And you,” Pennelope said, pointing an accusing finger at Celeste, “you’ve been out in the sea water in the same pair of pants and shirt for the last year,” She tugged at Celeste’s shirt, promptly ripping it wide open causing Celeste’s eyes to flair open, “the fabric may be strong but it’s not made to hold up against that much wear and tear without ripping!” A gentle smack was placed against the back of Celeste’s head, “Stubborn prideful girl.”
Throwing the piece of fabric she had ripped from Celeste’s shirt aside she ushered the fae woman into the back work room, maneuvering around spools and blocks of fabric. Rounding a corner Celeste came face to face with a mirror.
“Stay here,” Pennelope said and began muttering to herself, “now where did I put that measuring tape?” She mozied away, intent on finding her missing tool. Celeste however paid no attention as she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time in years. She was slightly taken about by the woman who gazed back.
Her long-tapered heart shaped face had gained more structure, no longer holding the soft childish curve it had only a few years before, and her eyes, violet and ever striking, were still as large and almond shaped as they had ever been, her arched brows sitting delicately above them. Her thick lips, dipped with a delicate cupids bow, sat down turned as she glanced over her body, thinner and taller now than before, her ribs poking out slightly.
“I’ll never understand how you’re so beautiful,” Anelisse mused from behind Celeste, her hands holding onto her shawl as she looked at her sister in the mirror, “it’s kind of cruel really to be the sister of such a beautiful creature,” a phony dramatic sigh from upturned lips, “I’ll never find a husband with you to compete with.”
“Don’t worry,” Celeste replied glancing over her shoulder, pink tinging her cheeks slightly, how many years had it been since she’d been called beautiful? Had been praised for her physical attractiveness? Those thoughts of vanity had faded when she’d woken up on that beach so long ago, “You can have all of them. I’d settle for a library full of books and a means to hear music.” “Mm books how lovely they must be,” A pause and a finger tapping lightly on her chin, Anelisse’s heard slightly cocked to the right, “But AH! Alas, I am illiterate so I will have to settle for the wooing of men to keep me entertained,” she pressed a hand to her forehead, feigning weakness, “however will I survive.”
“Oh I’m sure a pair of broad shoulders could help you keep your strength,” Celeste joked a single brow rising, “but I thought you weren’t interested in the pursuits of men? What happened to that long-sought dream of being a healer?”
“Oh yes yes I’ll get to that,” Anelisse said, “but until I learn to read or find someone to teach me the healing arts I won’t be much use on that front.”
“You just need practice,” Celeste reminded her sister, having spent the first few years of their time together teaching her to trace letters in the sands, “You know the letters shapes and the sounds you just need material to read and write, you’ll pick it up quickly.”
“I suppose so,” Anelisse mused her eyes trailing over her sisters exposed back, her eyes stopping on two festered and tapered scars that ran alongside her shoulder blades to the middle of her back.
“I always wondered how you survived that,” Anelisse whispered, her eyes glazing over as she took in the site of the anger red marks that stretched down her sister’s shoulders, “They’ve always looked so painful.” Celeste paused for a moment, her mind unwilling to acknowledge the memory that so often haunted her dreams.
“I do not know.” Celeste replied, unwilling to even use the mirror to glance at the brandings on her back, the brandings that had marked her an outcast from her people. Those marks served as a reminder to her that she was never to return to the place she had once called home.
A pregnant silence followed.
“I found it! I found it!” Pennelope broke the silence as she came bounding into the room, waving a measuring tape above her head, “now we can get started.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------
Several hours later the girls were making the ascent back to their home, wearing new temporary clothes until Pennelope could make their new ones. She had also taken the time to measure their feet so that boots could be crafted for them both when her husband returned from his trip on the mainland. In true Pennelope fashion she had refused the money that Celeste had offered her and had shooed the girls out of her shop saying she had a wedding dress to finish for Emily Lingard, the stitching she had been working on before they’d interrupted, before she could get to work on their clothes.
Having acquired everything, they needed from the tailor and cobbler and having spent none of the copper Celeste had insisted on taking Anelisse to get her paints, allowing her to buy the small set of primary colors in the window alongside a container of white and black paint and some paper before heading to the market and buying dinner, bread, cheese and slice of beef steak, before stopping off at the bakers. Celeste knew they shouldn’t have spent the extra bit of money but seeing Anelisse bite into the apricot pastry had made the purchase well worth it. They had split the pastry and ate it on their walk home, talking and laughing about the antics of the locals and which sailors they fancied over the sailors they did not. By the time they reach the house they had laughed themselves hoarse.
Opening the creaky door Celeste made her way inside, intent on prepping the food for dinner and starting the fire when she was met with an unexpected site. Sitting in the chair wrapped in a wool blanket was Anidre.
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courtorderedcake · 6 years
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An Enchanted Forest AU where the dark one was never released into the world in a vessel, thus causing a massive shift in timelines. The ogre wars have ravaged kingdoms, untold destruction spanning continents, rulers displaced. Even as the wars sputter to ash, the safest place to be is at sea, and that’s not very safe at all - as Emma and Killian find out, fates intertwined against all odds.
Rated: E/X - heavy content : warnings of assault, rape, noncon, just everything, I feel like the rating says enough. It’s something.
I have been sick, so enjoy a two-fer week. Here’s number two!
WARNING:  This chapter contains sex that has kink elements some might not be comfortable with. 
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Read on Ao3 HERE .
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Chapter IV: Seafoam
I have seafoam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.
-Jean Cocteau
A storm chased The Jolly Roger into the town that was situated before the ruins of the Enchanted Forest. As thunder and lightning shook the skies overhead, more ships fled the monstrous gale that stirred the sea into waves that were towering like mountains. Storms made him anxious now, a phantom ache where his hand had been even as almost a year had past since he made the brace that supported his hook, and since his surname had been lost under a namesake of the same appendage.
He hated the looks of pity people gave him now, but relished the fear that replaced it when the sharp point of his hook caught the light. There were very few people who treated him the same as before, or didn’t stare, but they were far and few between. His crew and Captain Swan’s crew were among those few.
Letting the rain pelt him, Killian watched from the Jolly’s deck, a spyglass in hand, as his crew buggered off to do whatever was left to do in the pitiful town. On the horizon, her sails black and gold even against the gray of the clouds, The Gilded Wing breezed in to anchor. Killian smiled, even if he wasn’t sure why.
Maybe it was the many memories of her captain warm underneath him or splayed on top of him, as he repaid a debt owed in one of the few ways he could; stomping over to her in heated rages or her appearing in his quarters to yell at him, until she moaned his name instead. At most, they’d seen each other several times in a month, a freak snowstorm stranding them for a week in Arendelle, royalty running amuck to pickpocket - or so he’d heard told when he returned from Swan’s quarters in the mornings, lighter in some ways himself.
The last time he saw Swan, she’d been furious about a misunderstanding with a vendor they had both dealt with that had caused her trade to fall through, while his own trade filled the vendor’s need as agreed. He hated the vendor, a slimy git who stained the not so sterling reputation of Camelot further with his greased palms. Swan had dragged him out to the middle of nowhere, damning his name as she divested him of clothing in a field of flowers, his hook digging into the soft ground.
He wasn’t intending to be where she was, and she swore the same; the utter ridiculousness of it making them waste panted air in laughter, pulling away from the other to bask in the high of their trysts.
The wind shifted suddenly, changing directions without warning. His coat fluttered, and he took a breath of the storm air.
Things were changing.
Emma and her crew limped The Wing into the harbor, barely making it through the turbulent water and screeching winds. Even with a simple charm to keep rain off of her deck, the wind whipped and howled around the barrier.
David gave an audible sigh of relief from holding the ropes while Snow smiled at him. Emma rolled her eyes; there was literally no reason to hide that they were together any longer, but David insisted. Snow had told Emma as much one afternoon as they lounged on the huge four poster bed she’d bought for the Captain’s quarters. “He wants to keep me safe I guess. Thinks if it got out, they’d exploit us, use us against each other as a weakness.” She gave a pointed look at Emma. “Try to use our emotions to manipulate us, possibly without us even being aware.”
“That sounds awful.” Emma took a large bite of a cinnamon pastry, swallowing loudly. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all that.”
Snow huffed a sigh, rolling over and standing, leaving Emma blinking in confusion.
Surveying the harbor, she smiled at the assembled crews she saw between the wary merchant vessels and a passenger sloop gathered there: Maelstrom, The Jolly Roger, The Jammed Pearl, The Curse of McGullan, and Red Hamsa all sat in various depths.
Emma's eyes were immediately drawn to The Jolly, catching a glimpse of Hook, his coat flapping in the wind and his hair being tossed as rain swept across the water.
David grunted beside her, nodding at The Jolly. “He's here. Of course he is.”
“So are four other ships. Hopefully, we won't see much of each other, and this storm clears quickly. Especially since the Maelstrom is here- I'd rather not deal with their crew if possible. “
“You make friends everywhere we go,” David smirked.
“It's a gift. Truly.”
“There's someone here I want you to meet, Em, speaking of friends.”
“You have friends? And here I've been lying to people for years!” Emma mock exclaimed.
“Shut up.” He picked at a bit of wood, a nervous tic that made Emma anxious. “He's a shopkeeper; nice, quiet, strong. I think you'd like him.”
“But who will I bring on our double date?” Emma teased.
“Go say hello. He works at Elm Leaf Market. He’s where I get those cuts of meat you like. Apparently, he hunts everything himself.”
“I really don't know how I feel about taking your sloppy seconds, but if you insist -”
“Emma.” David grasped her arm, pulling her to look at him. “This life doesn't have to be forever. You don't have to settle for-”
“I am well aware, David,” Emma wrenched her arm away from him. “I have never settled for less than I deserve, and I don't ever intend to. I like this life.”
David grunted, opening his mouth as if to say something, then closed it with a grimace, staring past her through the rain. Following his gaze, she could see the empty deck of The Jolly Roger, beaten by the same rain that battered her barrier charm.
“Just remember, Em,” David sighed. “You deserve to be happy. You've fought hard, and you don't have to settle for less.” He walked to the lower deck where Snow had been watching the exchange. He stood beside her without saying anything until she rested her head against his chest.
A pink dress was laid out for Emma on her bed, as Snow tightened a full corset around her waist. Emma would sigh with annoyance if she could; the tight garment was practically cutting off her circulation.
“Why am I wearing this again?” Emma groaned.
“Because,” Snow smiled, fussing with her hair, and letting it fall in soft curls. “It makes you look amazing. Especially your -” Snow gestured to Emma’s chest, giggling.
Emma had to admit, the corset worked wonders. Rubbing on lavender, lotus, sweet pea, and orange oil, and slipping on the pink dress in its thin satin, they surveyed her reflection in the polished copper mirror. With her hair pulled out of its usual snarled style and brushed to soften it, and the smallest touches from a pot of rouge, it was a complete transformation.
“Emma, you look -”
“Oh,” Emma smiled, wolfishly. “I know.”
Walking off her ship towards the market, Emma saw Scarlet, one of the members of Hook’s crew, do a double take while flirting with a flower seller. That was enough to seal her opinion on how well Snow and her had done.
The Elm Leaf Market was really all that was left of the village, a sort of smushed catch all of sundries, a butcher shop, a blacksmith, a greenery, apothecary, and anything else a booth could hold. It was always busy with the bedraggled survivors who lived on the outskirts of ogre country, buying supplies in bulk or spending time drinking away memories of what was.
Emma felt like a ghost as she waded through the slow crowd, watching as people sometimes parted around her in shock, her blush colored gown standing out in the sea of gray and brown cloaks. She'd worn a shawl and her dress clung slightly, but she'd missed most of the rain as it blew back to sea.
Graham was easy enough to find, and even easier (she had to admit) on the eyes. Shaggy brown hair, large kind eyes, broad shoulders and a soft brogue that stuttered a hello when she bent across his counter, giving him a view of her cleavage.
“Would you like to get a drink tonight? My brother seems to think we'd get along splendidly.” Emma purred, playing with a small wooden figurine of a stag, and looking up at him through her lashes.
He gulped.
“Um… sure, I … Shouldn't... Shouldn't I have asked you?”
She motioned him closer, whispering in his ear softly, feeling forward as the man practically melted.
“I'm not exactly one for propriety. See you tonight.”
She gave him a saucy wink, and headed back out of the market.
Things were changing. The air was electric, still misting rain that made her dress cling under a quick shielding spell. Hugging her shawl closer, she was briefly focused elsewhere when she ran into someone’s shoulder, tripping forward.
 Will Scarlet had come back breathless, pulling Killian aside in his excited state, even more so than usual. He whispered low, his voice practically shaking with energy.
“Will, if this is about liquor sales -”
“No, no, Captain -” Will wore a huge grin. “Have you seen Captain Swan today?”
“Briefly, when The Wing sailed in. Wait, why?” Ice water froze his veins for a moment, unsettling him. “Is she alright?”
Will quirked an eyebrow and gave a half smile. “Oh, she's fine. Just fine. I would make a point to say hello to her today if I were you.”
“Scarlet, I don't like riddles. What's going on with her?”
“I told you, nothing.” The skinny man shrugged, his smile growing. “And if there was, why would you care?”
Killian blinked, slowly. “I don’t. I owe her a debt. That's all.”
“Sure. I'd hurry, she was moving quickly.”
Killian blinked again, and nodded slightly. “This better be good, Scarlet.”
Walking down the dirt path towards the market and letting the rain pelt him, he kept an eye out for her gold hair, windswept and slightly wild. He'd shed his coat to spare it from the rain, wearing just a pair of breeches and a black vest. Reaching the market he was immediately annoyed with Scarlet. Emma wasn't there. An older woman haggled for potatoes. A man sold eggs, ducklings, and chicks. A shop keep and maiden flirted over a counter. A child begged for coin. He turned to go back to the Jolly, and to give Scarlet a severe tongue lashing.
Then he heard her laugh. Turning, he squinted through the rain as it quieted. Emma. She glowed, her hair soft, skin peaches and cream, lips a soft rose color and good Gods above, below, and maybe in the middle her breasts -
His lungs actually hurt when he found breath again. Scarlet was getting a brick of bouillon for this. He stood stupidly, watching her cast a quick spell as she came towards him. He let himself drift into a thought of her just kissing him on the cheek as they walked by the water watching the storm, her laying against his chest in that dress as they pulled a blanket around them, staying warm in the rain -
She ran into him.
“Oh, sorry. Usually people walk you know -” She looked up at him, her eyes rimmed in kohl, and her grimace turned into a frown. “Oh, it's you. God, didn't the Navy teach you how to walk or close your stupid mouth? You're going to catch flies.” Emma reached her hand to his chin, closing his mouth. “There.” She gave him a small pat on the cheek and walked past.
Killian turned to watch her, before shaking his head and walking briskly to catch up with her.
“Swan.” He swallowed thickly, trying to still his nerves, “Would you like to, uh,” he scratched behind his ear. “I owe you an ale, or rum, or whatever you would like to drink and I-”
“I have a date tonight,” she shrugged. “If you want to send it over to us, feel free, but Graham and I may be busy.”
She turned and walked away from him and for the first time, Killian felt a strange emotion well up in his chest. No matter how hard he tried to push it down, it rose again and again like a snake, striking him with fits of rage- and something else he refused to examine.
Graham. He hated the name instantly.
Pacing in his cabin that evening, he finally decided to make his way to the only tavern in the shithole ruined town he was stuck in. Throwing on his coat, he gave orders to Smee and made his way into town. Most of the place was in ruins or abandoned, casting an eerie silence that was only broken by the echoes from the tavern. He walked into the shoddy building and sat at the bar. The Adder’s Bite was as full as the lonely place could be. He spotted Swan right away with the halfwit, his hands low on her waist as they danced to the directions of a fiddle player.
When the fiddler told them to grab their partner, the moron fumbled. Killian gripped the table as his knuckles went white, ready to bash his head in, until Swan laughed at his slip up. They continued on and the second time Graham lifted her with ease. Killian asked for a glass carafe, and began to pour himself a heavy glass to parch his throat, immediately pouring another.
Watching them together, Swan’s neck long and pale as she threw back her head and laughed, Killian felt a heavy desire that actually hurt. His face was hot, and he could feel his pulse thump heavily as he watched her hands, those clever fingers, thread with Graham’s as he spun her. Killian stood, throwing back his drink, and made his way towards them. “May I cut in, mate?” he said lowly, and Emma glowered at him. “We’re busy Hook. My dance card is full,” she hissed, and the man blinked slowly at Killian, looking back at Emma. “The woman said we’re busy,” he said in an accented voice, one from the Northern Isles. “So I guess we’re busy. Better luck next time,” he shrugged.
Killian seethed under a wolfish grin. “I insist.” He pushed the man aside and took a struggling Emma out on the dance floor. The man sat down, arms crossed as his shaggy brown hair flopped over his eyes. He looked pathetic.
“Let go of me, you ass! Graham and I were fine before you -”
“Before I what? Showed you how to pick a partner who knows what they’re doing?” A fiddle player picked up with the accordion as other dancers took the floor with them. Emma resisted again for a moment, before she allowed herself to be spun back into his chest, his hook pressing against the small of her back. She huffed, but a smile had crept up into her features, and he spun them again. “You ruin everything, you know. You’re lucky you are a good dancer.”
He smirked, casting a glance back at Graham, who was now approaching them. He gripped Emma’s waist tighter, the same flare of that heat in his chest sparking a need to be possessive of her. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, how stunned he was not only now but every time he saw her. Instead he let himself guide her in a gentle sway.
“You're not bad yourself, Swan.” He murmured, and underneath he hoped she could hear what he couldn't say. He could just kiss her and hope for the best, or if she just heard the words he wanted to say, she might press her lips against his -
She didn't. She let go of Killian, returning to Graham’s arms instead. Killian returned to his table and watched a bit longer as she laughed at Graham’s clumsiness. He swirled drink after drink, a new glass replacing every one finished without an order, watching as her face lit in a way she had never shown towards him. He swallowed another several fingers of rum in a gulp.
What they had was good. It was fine, his brain screamed, trying to interject logic over his drunkenness and jealousy. He blinked, staring at the amber in his glass that had begun to spin. Jealousy? He wanted to fuck, to ruin, to bruise pale skin and lips, not dance or light her face with that beautiful laugh of hers that made his ears heat -
He shook it off, his head spinning. Fucking hells, he was drunk. A little voice he pretended not to hear rustled in his mind, whispering that he wanted more; wanted to be in this ‘Graham's’ stead; wanted to press gentle kisses on her temples as they twirled for hours to fiddle song. It sounded like Liam’s quiet candor, wounding him, and he pushed it down with force.
He swallowed another glass, impatiently waiting the minute until another appeared. Graham stumbled again and Killian had to resist every drunken instinct screaming for him to break the man's legs for stepping on his Swan’s pretty feet. It was a bloody waltz. What sodding wanker of a man couldn't do a three step - He blinked, processing his thoughts slowly. His Swan? He knocked back another drink, savoring the burn down his throat.
They sat, and he grinned when Emma's hands rubbed her feet delicately. The grin vanished quickly, though, when her wincing brought Graham's dolt hands to stroke her calves, eliciting a quiet moan from that pretty mouth. When the other man kissed her, Killian stared into his glass, trying to understand why his heart thumped loudly, his skin heated, and his muscles tensed at the thought of that worthless fucking oaf touching her. Why him? He’d skin the man alive for his useless hide for thinking he was worthy.
That stupid voice spoke to him again, Liam’s annoying older brother voice full of pity and life weary experience:
You know why you feel this way.
He swallowed another drink and stood, plopping down at another table.
“You idiots want to make some quick coin?”
 When he woke up, Killian’s head pounded like he'd smashed it against shore stones and he had a mighty need for water and a hearty meal. He'd drank far too much last night, been out of control, and now even opening his eyes to the bright light of wherever the hell he was became a challenge.
Flesh stirred near his abdomen, while on the other side of him someone breathed steadily. As his brain pulled itself from its drunken haze, he registered that he was in a large bed with at least three other bodies, all very nude. Creaking his eyes open, he recognized the linens and ceiling. Cora’s Place.
Killian closed his eyes and lifted his hand to the bridge of his nose. Sorting through memories, he tried to remember what happened last night. He'd gone from dancing with Emma to a blank. Shaky pieces of memory came back to him and he groaned.
He'd gone to sit with some rough lads, asking for a favor owed. Watching Emma and Graham part with a kiss, and the blokes approach Graham in an alley. Staggering back into the shadows and into Cora’s Place. Picking three blondes and being led to a room, where he promptly stripped nude and…
He'd fallen asleep.
He felt the soft touch of a hand graze his cock, and the whisper of a raspy, low, voice.
“I know our time is up, but since you haven't been serviced…” A woman pressed her wet mouth onto the side of his semi erect member, licking circles.
Killian sighed, and tried to enjoy the sensation, but it was wrong. Her mouth was too wet and too rough, her teeth catching occasionally. He pushed her off and the two other women woke as he stood.
“Was it not pleasurable, sir?” The woman looked at him with wide eyes. The other two women stared at them groggily.
“No. Yes. I mean -” he started to dress, looking for his discarded clothes.
“It’s alright. We're not her. Happens more often than you menfolk want to admit,” one of the women on the bed said sleepily. “We’re poor substitutes for the real thing.”
Killian blinked, pausing from shrugging on his shirt over his hook. He stared at the blonde woman who had spoken, lying in bed. Her blonde curls framed a heart shaped face and deep brown eyes.
“We're not Emma.”
He bristled, tensing. “How do you, why did -”
“Ya talk in ya sleep, mate,” said the other dozing woman, pale platinum hair a tangled mess. “Musta ‘ad Emma on ya mind. We ‘eard ya mumble it a dozen times.”
He blanched. Pulling the rest of his clothing together, he went to leave, throwing on his shoes, his anger and embarrassment rising. He rushed out, long overcoat thrown on in haste, and heard one of the women call after him.
“We will never tell anyone. We never do.”
Bursting through the door into the burning sunlight, Killian stumbled through the back alleys of ruined homes and narrow side streets between abandoned shops that he usually took to get to his ship. His head throbbed, and his mood had gone sour with the whores’ accusations.
When he tripped over a vagrant lying in a narrow corridor, he pulled the man up by his collar. Graham's bloody and barely conscious face greeted him.
“Shit,” Killian hissed, as Graham whimpered and blocked his face. “What, you didn't even fight back? What a worthless, spineless, wet scrap of a dog -”
Graham laughed at that, and Killian put the idiot down. He obviously had a brain injury.
“I can't fight back.” Graham said, spitting blood.
“What? What kind of man can't fight -”
“It's complicated.”
“Well, good luck to you and your complications. I have enough of my own.” Killian turned to walk away.
Graham curled himself into a ball, his back facing Killian.
“Oh bloody hell mate,” Killian gave an exasperated sigh. A dagger stuck out of the man's back. “You bloody idiot, you've been stabbed -”
“I know, but you're not supposed to take it out because it will bleed more, and it's not silver-”
“You damned fool, you have to take it out at some point!” Killian wiped his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was far too hungover for this; the consequences of his actions back to bite him immediately.
Graham shook, and Killian recognized the oncoming stage of shock about to set into the man's beaten body.
Giving a long sigh, Killian helped the man up and limped him to the Jolly. Laying him in the sick bay, he let Smee tend to him and stitch him up. He gave the man a heavy dosing of rum before sitting to watch.
“Can you cook better than you fight?” Smee asked, sewing up a nasty gash.
Graham nodded, wincing and whimpering even after several shots of rum. “Aye, yea, I can cook.”
“Ship needs a cook. You'll pay the Cap’n back for saving you by cooking.”
Graham's face was sheer panic, before he put on an air of indifference. Killian noted there might be more to the idiot after all.
“Is there, or do you have, a strong brig or cell?” he asked calmly. “I'll need it every so often.”
Smee squinted, but Killian spoke up. “That's fine. We haven't had a lycanthrope aboard before.”
Graham’s face went pale, staring at Killian with fear. Smee only scratched his head through his knit cap, muttering the word.
“Forget you heard that word, and get out.” Killian pointed at Smee, waving him out. There was an uneasy beat of silence. “You can go back to the market if you like, shopkeep. If you have a pack, or kin, which I don’t think you do. Courting a human is bold.”
A hard glint behind Graham’s eyes revealed the predator underneath if just for a moment. Killian picked his thumb with his hook, smirking.
“I didn’t… She came on to me. I’d be an idiot to say no. What is this anyway, some jealous attack on me?” Killian’s jaw set at the idea of himself being jealous. This was for Emma’s safety, and was a clear drunken mistake. Before Killian could retort, Graham let out a growled laugh, looking at his hands. “You did me a favor though, I guess. You’re right. I haven’t anyone there. I thought Emma could cure me if we got close enough, or could take me across the sea to a pack who’d take me. Her brother and her have a weak scent of werewolf on them.”
Killian blinked, and then laughed. “I assure you, Swan isn’t. Bite and Bark without all the fur, very much so. No offense mate.” Graham looked mollified, and frowned. “I’ll go with you. I’ll let you know when I need to be locked -” Killian held up his hand to stop the man. “You can have shore leave. We took a she-wolf to Glowerhaven, and were late to arrive. I’d rather not sustain that much damage to my ship again, if possible.” Killian winced at the memory of deep grooves of claw marks that had splintered the floorboards.
“Fine with me. It’s also easier to bring meat back that way, then I don’t need a cow on board.” Graham shrugged. “When do we leave?”
“Now.” Killian said with a shrug. “You really thought Emma could cure you?”
“Well, I thought she might be sympathetic to my cause, associating with someone like me and being able to use magic. I thought maybe she might even let me mark her if -”
“Mark her?” Killian looked up with narrowed eyes, jaw clenching tight. “You mean change her into…” “If she consented, yes, so we could have a pack bond.”
Killian’s rage was back in full force, a sudden explosion that he couldn’t quell. His hands were on Graham’s collar, snarling at the injured man. “Don’t ever consider that thought again. Stay away from her or I will smelt a silver chain so long it will wrap around you twice, and throw you into the ocean.”
Graham’s eyes were wide, and Killian unclenched his fingers, backing away. “As soon as your able, go clean the galley until it’s not only spotless, but it shines. I don’t want to see your face until it’s done.” Killian hissed, and left the small room. Stalking out into fresh air, he breathed out a ragged breath, signalling the order to ship out.
 Emma wasn’t surprised that Graham disappeared. She didn’t bother telling David, knowing he’d demand an excuse from the butcher, which would just make things worse. She didn’t need a reason as to why he had decided to up and go; a reason only made things worse and identified one of her “qualities” that made her undesirable to someone. Emma didn’t want one identified when there were so many she knew herself.
It didn’t matter why he left. He did, he didn’t leave a note, and he obviously wasn’t interested. What was done was done. She had better things to do. Belle had been studying movements of currents and winds over shipping routes as a pet project, noting where ships seemed to go down with only natural events. Based on her conjecture, she had shown Emma a map of where she suspected a large amount of treasure may have been pushed by currents. They had been heading there before the bad weather had hit, unwilling to be in treacherous waters as a storm pummeled them.
They sailed back, making good time. The weather was beautiful, and the water almost as blue as the sky in places, the crew lounging about the deck. Belle called down to her when they were a day or so away from their destination, pointing to a familiar shape appearing on the horizon. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Emma heard her brother groan. “Emma, you didn’t -”
“Of course I didn’t say anything to him. I don’t advertise my plans, especially when they involve us being fed.” She glared at David, and he glared back. Belle hopped down from the rigging, looking embarrassed.
“It um, it might be my fault,” Belle looked down at her feet, holding a book and her spyglass against her back. “I uh… Will came to see me before we left, said I hadn’t been at the bar and he wondered how I was doing. I showed him some of my calculations and we talked. I didn’t think anything of it.”
David threw up his hands, exasperated. “Great! Another one.” Snow shot him a dangerous look, and went to Belle’s side. “It’s not her fault, David.” Snow patted Belle sympathetically on the shoulder, and all eyes looked to Emma as they approached. Emma rolled her eyes. “Emma, it’s not -”
“I know it’s not Belle’s fault. Belle, it isn’t. We’ll just… I’ll just… We’ll ignore him. We’ll get what we came here for, and he can leave well enough alone.” Emma ran her hands through her hair, pinning it back away from her face. “Let’s get swimming. Shall we?”
After a break, the crew came back and took position, uncaring as the Jolly Roger slunk into a clearer view. Emma dove into the water holding the chain in hand, the first one in the water. Waiting for her crew, she opened the bottle of potion she held, letting the content swirl around her. Ruby came next, as Emma felt the shock of water in her lungs. It wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t dead. Ruby opened hers, grimacing as gills appeared and she took a breath of the sea water. David and Snow came together, Snow the first to try to speak, croaking something ridiculous before clapping hands over her mouth. Ruby grinned, and Emma simply shook her head as they swam down.
Belle had been right. Searching through the water with a simple light spell, they found ship after broken ship on the reef, aptly named ‘The Reef of Broken Hulls’. The current had swept lighter goods into a small valley on the seafloor, while heavier casks remained unbroken and crates that were intact. Attaching the chains to boxes, Ruby gave a signal to The Wing, and slowly they were pulled up.
The work slowed down as the large pieces were pulled up, so the crew now had to scavenge the smaller pieces for anything left. Emma floated lazily picking through wreckage and admiring the algae covered figureheads. Looking back towards The Wing, she noticed the shadow of The Jolly Roger a ways off. Squinting, she did a quick push off of a piece of wreckage, spotting an unrecognized form sorting through what was left.
She swam closer, peeking around the broken stern of a ship. Blinking, she let out a croaking guffaw at the sight in front of her. A large shimmering bubble floated around the heads of Hook, Will, and a man she didn’t immediately recognize. Emma had seen the spell but had chosen against it in favor of being able to swim more naturally, sight unobscured.
Gathering her finds, she made her way closer. Hook glanced up at her, his face strangely magnified and skewed like a warped mirror. He pointed, and Will and the other man looked her way. Graham’s face looked back at her from one of the iridescent globes. So, he’d left to join the Jolly. Ironic that he’d left to get away, only to potentially see her more often.
Ruby swam by Emma’s line of sight with her back towards her, body tense. Emma sunk down to her level and touched Ruby’s shoulder, surprised when her friend turned with her teeth bared. Relaxing slightly, she made a motion towards the three, where Graham stared straight at them. Emma pulled at Ruby’s arm, but she made no motion to move, caught in some sort of strange staring war. Emma gave her a pinch, and she shook out of the trance, smiling apologetically. They swam towards The Wing, but Emma noticed with concern her friend looking back over her shoulder with a strange look of anxious curiosity.
Pulling themselves on the deck, they took the antidote that waited for them, Emma enjoying the feeling of rightness that came from breathing air again.
“Ruby, the hell was -” Emma began, pushing wet hair out of her face.
“He’s like me.”
“Wait. What?” Emma watched as Ruby wrung her hair, chewing on her lip. “He’s…?”
“You can say it, Emma. He’s a werewolf, like me. Not taking a potion or anything either. Super weird smelling him underwater, sorry about that. The wolf thought he might be a threat because he smelled…” Ruby’s cheeks colored, and she shook her head. “Anyway. Don’t worry about it, we just had a moment between us. It’s not a big deal.”
“Uh-huh. Ruby, you can talk to me if -”
“It’s nothing,” Ruby hissed, and Emma backed off.
Walking over to survey their finds, she glanced over at The Jolly bobbing gently on the sea. Belle had seethed all day over her mistake, angry Will had used her. Their on and off talks had never led to betrayal, and Belle was not one who actively sought out anyone’s company. The fact she’d let Will in, and he’d done this - Emma felt the flare of anger in her own chest.
It was a comfort to Emma that at least Belle got to see this to fruition. She’d excitedly surveyed their finds, marveling over jewels, coins of countries lost to the ages, beautiful pendants, and casks of who knew what. She’d be busy for weeks studying the trading logos.
“Are we able to set sail?” Emma called to David. At his nod, they lifted anchor, Emma calling the crew to deck to discuss how they’d like to split their finds. Emma turned back, surprised to see Ruby at Belle’s side. Both had picked out a few pieces already, Belle choosing a beautiful citrine ring and Ruby choosing her namesake in a pair of earbobs. They both stared out at the Jolly as it faded away into the distance. Emma retired below deck, letting the others go over the spoils.
 The next months dragged with one disaster after another, to the point of Emma wondering if they had somehow invoked a curse or angered some lesser known deity. The first sign of trouble had been a strange and tense encounter with the older captain of The Red Hamsa, Omar. He’d given her a warning, speaking low outside of the inn at the lesser known outpost in Northern Camelot. They made moonshine that could scrape off barnacles without the touch of a finger, but a drink was a drink.
“Lie low, little bird. There’s talk of danger for you. A gathering of captains that will meet, led by Blackbeard.” His voice was like feet dragging over gravel, the long water pipe in his lips mixing smoke with the salt and pepper of his beard. “The Hook has been asked to join, as was I. I refused the offer; I was tired of these games long before any of you were sailing. Watch who your friends are.”
He blew smoke, the form of a butterfly appearing in the herbal scented wisps. It fluttered a few paces before dissolving, following his form as he hobbled away. Emma believed in many superstitions as they related to the sea and magic, but she tried to not put stock into portents of doom. It was wasteful. A purposeful look at anything could identify some symbolism within. However, the butterfly was a renowned symbol, just like the ship its maker commanded. A Hamsa was a ward for the evil eye, the hand of the Old Gods that could bring peace or war. A butterfly under the same sky they molded meant change, usually with force.
Emma turned on her heel, ready to get back aboard her ship and leave as soon as possible, but Ruby was in the woods and who knew how drunk anyone else was. She hissed a string of expletives.
“How is it there’s a whole bloody ocean but I still end up in the same waters as you?” Emma tensed, the low, wry chuckle a comfort and curse. Hook stepped out of the shadows where he’d been leaning, looking amused with himself.
“Maybe if you stopped following our ship, or poaching our finds -”
“A pirate’s life, finder’s keepers love.” There was a new ring on one of his fingers and she glared at it, knowing she’d seen its ilk in their coffers. The vulture. His hook shone in the light from the thin windows.
“You are a child.” He caught her as she pushed past him, pressing her against the wooden wall of the inn with his arms on either side of her body. His breath didn’t reek of the moonshine here, but she could smell rum, spices, and anise. “I don’t have time for this, what do you want?” Emma dropped her voice to a whisper, hiding the way her breath hitched when he leaned in closer.
“I owe you an apology,” Hook whispered in turn. The space between them was fractional, Emma could feel his breath on her cheek, his eyes serious.
“You owe me several. We can arrange an appointment if you’d like them organized.” Ignoring her attempt to push past him, Emma let out an annoyed huff.
“I’m sorry about Graham.” Hook looked away from her, a flash of guilt colored in that disarming blue.
“Why are you sorry? Because you took him to sea? Don’t be. Ruby was happy to go with us; she said that the packs in what’s left of the Enchanted Forest are constantly fighting among themselves or getting killed by ogres. You probably did him a favor.” Emma shrugged, and he opened his mouth to say something more until her fingers met his lips to stop him. “Ruby and him can run all night, she mentioned something about him when you poached our loot.”
“Can you let that go if I say I’m sorry? I was hoping you’d come stomping over and…” His eyes were back on her own, one eyebrow raised as he licked his lips.
“You’re an insufferable idiot. A fool.” Emma threw up her hands, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“You look lovely tonight, Swan.” Her mouth flew open to retort his insult, but stayed as a round shocked ‘oh’ as she absorbed the compliment instead. Hook’s lips pressed against her own, no hunger but a heavy heat instead. It had been some time since they had laid together, a fire starting low in her stomach as she raised a leg for him to grasp, teeth grazing his lips. His fingers bruised her thigh, and she heard him curse, pulling away with his eyes closed.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked through heavy breaths. She must have looked at him incredulously, because he ran a hand through his hair embarrassed. “I mean, down by the shoreline, or up by the wood? What are you doing?”
Emma rested a hand against his forehead. At his look of confusion, she pulled her hand away. “You don’t have a fever. I’m just confused as to why we would ever go for a walk together. Unless it’s to one of our cabins or to the inn, I don’t -”
He pulled away completely, nodding. “Sorry, love. I’m not myself tonight. Maybe I do have a fever.”
“We can go if you want, I guess. I just...” She reached a hand forward, not understanding the strange reaction he was having. “We don’t really -”
“No, it’s alright Swan. Have a good night.” Hook backed away with a slight bow, heading inside to cheers from who she assumed was his own crew.
Emma returned to The Wing, laying on her bed listening to the waves and the beginning calls of gulls. She heard the soft footfalls of people returning, and then felt the press of someone sitting on the edge of her bed. Looking up, Emma saw a fully disheveled Ruby who was grinning with her eyes bright. Ruby pulled a twig from her hair and flicked it at Emma.
“Oh. Well,” Emma sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Don’t you look smitten.”
“Emma.” Ruby whined, scooting closer.
“Alright. Tell me about it.” Emma turned to face Ruby, as the woman gushed about running with the other wolf. There weren’t any other pack claims here, just them and running free as far as their legs could carry them. Ruby tried to explain things about instincts and how they communicated, but when she couldn’t, Emma got the gist.
“What a cosmic joke,” Emma murmured. Ruby patted her shoulder sympathetically.
“Sometimes I think you like to be by him. Hook, I mean. Not that I mind anymore. They can follow us every full moon as far as I’m concerned.”
“No. They can’t.” Emma shot her a sharp look, and Ruby sighed leaving her alone in her room.
 Another few months dragged by, and Emma purposely tried to avoid crossing The Jolly with mixed results. Then, she purposely sought them out as she felt danger looming on her horizon. They’d been spending time down in the Far South, her skin tanned and hair a bright gold from the sun. The look on Hook’s face when she approached didn’t calm her nerves; his eyes were dark over the steel tankard of whatever he was drinking. He set it aside, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve.
“What have I done now, Swan.” He made a motion with his hook for her to sit down.
Emma obliged, and swallowed hard. Squeezing her eyes shut for the embarrassment of what was coming next, she set aside her pride.
“I need a favor.” It dropped from her lips, and Emma hated herself for it. Before he could retort with innuendo, she continued. “I want you to get me into this ‘Circle Meeting’. I seem to be barred.”
He laughed, and shook his head, returning to his drink.
“I need to be in there. I belong in there, and that’s the very reason I’m being barred, besides not having a cock -”
“Lucky that.” Hook smirked at her, leaning back with his legs wide. He sat the empty tankard down and waved for another.
“Is there anyone there that will appeal to reason?” Emma looked at him, watching carefully for a reaction as he shrugged noncommittally.
“I don’t know why you care, Swan. It’s bollocks. The damn thing won’t matter in a few months time when someone breaks the treatise and we all go about our ways again.” He leveled a gaze at her, head cocked, the same careful look as her own mirrored back. Emma tried to keep her face impassive. If she, Omar, and David were right, and they’d created this treatise just to send The Wing’s crew to the bottom of the sea, Hook might be her only ally in this. That was if he could be trusted, and could convince anyone to do anything other than run her through. The only thing she knew about him was the same thing she knew about herself; their interests came first.
“I don’t… I don’t want the trouble. We leave well enough alone, except for running into you somehow, and even then I try to avoid you. I’ve been doing a damn good job of it, too.” Emma sat forward, a hand pushing back her hair as she chewed her lip. “Things have escalated recently. Gotten worse. We’ve been barred from Redwater Sanctuary.”
Hook’s eyebrow shot up and the easy smirk he’d been wearing faded. There was a flash of something akin to concern in his eyes, and it made her skin prickle with hatred. Concern was a prelude to pity. Of all the terrible gifts that could be bestowed, Emma wanted pity less than death. She wanted his pity least of all.
“Oh.” He looked at her, and she saw it there in the flash of his eyes, a flicker of his worry, pity and caring about the situation unfolding. She was sure he was concerned only because of how it could hurt him; she’d been over generous lately with letting him scavenge, and she was one of the few pirates he could easily trade with if he needed something. Emma had felt the same when she’d procured the salve for him when he lay burning of fever.
“I want to make sure I’m not a target.” Her eyes drifted to the floorboards, following the patterns there to avoid seeing Hook’s face.
“Swan, I can’t get you into that meeting. You know I can’t, they’ll kill us both,” he whispered lowly. Emma shot a quick glance at him and he was leaning forward, his hand extended to her as if to touch her shoulder. She sat back, pulling away. “If you need help, or information -”
“I don’t.” The ice in her voice as she snapped had him blinking. “I asked you for help with this, and you could not oblige. I wouldn’t risk it again.” She stood, turning away.
“Swan!” She heard him call after her, felt his fingers brush her own as her feet carried her away from him again. She could hear the pity echoing even in his calls.
 The meeting with the Circle was called a fortnight later, in Corona. The bustling country was an easy central port that boasted fair weather and good ale. It was also renowned for its seedy underbelly that the royal guard overlooked as long as no harm came to its citizens. At first, Killian was under the impression that they’d be visiting the Fuzzy Duckling, a well known bar for thugs and vandals of the area. However, after a brawl that left several crews light handed due to a misunderstanding about a ceramic unicorn, pirates had been disavowed and sent to the city.
They had found home in a bar near their boats, amusingly named The Goat Testicles. They’d even constructed a sort of makeshift room for meetings, so thankful for the business. Apparently, selling a beer called Goat’s Piss hadn’t brought locals banging on their doors, regardless of its fragrant citrus flavoring.
He was only half listening to the treatise being drawn up between the captains, knowing full well that they'd break it within days if not hours, when warm hands stroked the innards of his thighs softly. At first, he thought he'd imagined it, but the quick tug on the laces and a gentle scrape of nails down the dark trail to his cock proved it was all too real. He was too surprised to make a noise until a wet hand gripped him with firm strokes, his cock jumping to attention in the stranger's hands, as he let out a small sigh.
He knew who it was before the flash of blonde locks swinging forward gave her away. Ever resourceful, Swan had not only made it into the meeting, but she'd also made sure she got her mention. Hell, she'd make sure, as always, that she'd stay two steps ahead of any threat by hiding in the mouth of the beast.
"And territorial wise, I want the waters near Agrabah. It's quite a ways to trade through the desert from port, you lot cutting our coffers afterwards is nastiness, even for pirates." A younger newcomer with ruddy ginger hair was speaking, twirling a coin in his heavily tattooed hand. The idiot had given away a large weakness to abuse. Walking goods through a barren desert was already risky, but advertising it to this group? He'd be dead within the fortnight, another part of the turnover this table saw. Another crew lost to their captain’s folly.
Swan swirled her tongue and he let out a grunted aye along with the other men, leaning back with his good hand gripping the table. He bucked into her mouth and was rewarded with her teeth scraping gently against him as she ran a finger along the seam of his sack.
Hook hissed lowly. Swan’s bloody fucking mouth could unravel him with ease; just like this, or on his mouth, neck, or body. Sometimes with just words. He wanted to grip her hair, fucking her mouth while she moaned on his cock, begging for him to give her a taste. He wanted to watch her swallow his seed, to let it burn down her throat. He imagined her fingers deep inside her tight quim, riding her hand in poor imitation of the cock she sucked greedily. He wanted to bite her hard enough to leave violet blooms on pale flesh; to leave firm handprints on soft globes, making it hard for her to sit. He was getting close, and the pace she set her strokes at was brutal, his breathing becoming shallow.
Blackbeard's grumble brought him back to the duality of the situation at hand.
"Alright lads, that's all fin' and good - Now what about that bitch out makin' a mockery of us? I don’ mind a lass on the crew if she were of that persuasion of breeches and pulling 'er own whores, but this cunt and her crew-"
“She leaves well enough alone, but Hera and Zeus forbid that you ever try to steal her treasures or go after that crew of hers,” said a paunchy man with too many rings as he stroked his waxed beard and chewed his pipe. El Pantera, a captain from one of the smaller Island Kingdoms.
Another man spoke up, older and covered in pustules. Hook recognized him as Captain Scabbard, a rotted old rat that ran a skeleton crew on a ship that stunk of turned milk. "No woman should be on a ship t'begin with." He spat a dark yellow wad onto the floor. "Tis bad luck, I say; tis only to shit on the Gods."
Emma was distracted now, bobbing in slow strokes and listening intently, keeping Hook on the edge of his pleasure. He could feel himself seeping precum as she lapped at his slit, and the urge to slam her mouth down on his cock to the hilt was growing overwhelming. His toes curled in his boots.
"What do you suppose we do about her then? She can return my fire three fold, fights like a she demon, and sails off to naught be found until she wants to be." Another young captain whom he had dubbed Babyface shrugged. He'd inherited the position after Captain Durham had died under Navy fire a few months back. He was manipulative behind his innocence, yet cunning enough to have avoided or dissipated several mutinies.
Swan swallowed him all the way to his base like she had read his mind, cheeks hollowed, trying to kill him. The table looked at him expectantly as he let out a strangled grunt. He swallowed thickly, and spoke slowly, with purposeful enunciation.
"She's not a threat, surely, for any of you to be so afraid as to suggest we take care of her?"
The table around him gave scoffs of indignation. Swan rewarded him with a tight squeeze of her mouth and swirl of her tongue that had him closing his eyes and carding his hand through his hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, opened his eyes, and hoped he could explain his behavior away with the excuse of a headache. Emma edged him away from the brink again and he growled lowly. The headache excuse was partially true, it would just be a different head he’d be referring to.
"Aye. I'm sayin' we should put out the word that she's got gold on 'er 'ead - not only at sea, but in taverns and ports as well." Blackbeard held Hook in a steady gaze, the challenge clear behind his eyes. "I'm saying that she deserves to see her crew swing in the wind before joinin' them."
He felt her bristle and her movements came in firm, fast strokes now. Anger pooled in his belly along with the tight coil in his spine that was growing white hot. He could feel that both the meeting and her torture were coming to an end, and he was grateful for it.
"She deserves to be at this table, mate. Fearsome pirates such as yourselves, scared over the woman you claim is not fit for the seas like she's some porcelain princess, when I left her ship many a time limping away lucky to have my hide." With his voice raising, she hummed and he shifted his legs to open himself wider. What looked like angered fidgeting to everyone else was actually small snaps of his hips as he got closer to his peak. A flush rose in his cheeks as he held back moans of pleasure.
"We all know about the many times that you've left her cabin, Captain." Scabbard smirked at him, his voice oily.
He came down her throat with a low and measured grunt, betraying how good it felt to spill himself against her tongue. The next time they saw each other, he would repay her for this, leaving her cabin again. He took a deep breath and let himself smile in relief, or to their eyes, amusement.
"All to keep my coffers full, I assure you. I'd trade with you dogs, but you're all bite, no bark, no treasures to speak of other than your cowardice."
The table erupted, and he adjusted himself back into his trousers. He leaned back in his chair, and shook his head at the unnoticed whooshing sound of her disappearing, the gray smoke of her magic joining the heavy layer already in the room. Blackbeard was the only one who seemed to notice, eyes narrowing. Killian hid the deep unease that creeped into his stomach. 
“You’d behoov’n yer self to show yer elders some respect boy,” Scabbard spat in Hook’s direction.
Another older pirate with ashy blonde hair in matted dreads, Captain Uly from the frozen seas, spoke up. “Here here! Some of us haff bean sailink before even you young man vere vinkle in your Vahdder’s eyes!”
The ruddy ginger laughed like a donkey’s bray. He looked at Scabbard. “When have you ever shown anyone, including your own dear mum, respect you foul git?” He laughed again, reaching for his mead.
Scabbard leaned forward as quick as a snake and slammed his dagger into the ruddy ginger’s extended hand. He shrieked, looking down at the blade now oozing red, as Scabbard gave the handle a twist and pulled it back out, wiping the blade on his dirty coat. “Men get respect. Boys ‘n doxies ‘n slores get none. All women are slores, sommin’ get paid are bit smarter, not by much. That Swan, well. She’s a slore pretendin’ to be a man.” Satisfied after checking the dagger for blood, Scabbard sheathed it and sat. “Dat’d be the worst kind, ‘n my book.”
Blackbeard shouted and slammed his fist on the table, and Killian gritted his teeth to keep from cutting Scabbard in twain. “We’ll deal with her another time.” He scowled at Killian, who raised a cheeky smirk instead. “For now, let’s plan how a raid would go, and what signals we’d use.” The raid planned was pretty simple. Enemies of the Circle would be scouted and after making sure the biggest number of ships could pursue as a fleet, they’d surround the poor ship in a horseshoe shape with all guns firing. Depending on the ship, loot would be divided, but the loss of an enemy would be even greater, the threat erased for all.
Killian could feel the pit settling in his stomach as they discussed battle tactics for a ship of certain size, with so many guns and so many crew members, possibly fortified with magic.
A ship that sounded very much like The Gilded Wing.
 The Gilded Wing had left long before the others left the harbor to go their separate ways, the other ships falling behind the Jolly as he raced to catch up to Swan. He didn’t care about the Circle or its archaic bullshit and drawn territory lines. The only point that stood out was the target on Emma’s back. This repaid the favor he owed, wiping the slate clean.
Emma in her stubbornness met him on the Jolly’s deck as they approached, The Gilded Wing only a hundred meters away.
“I’m here to give you a warning, Swan,” he said lowly, walking to where she’d appeared in her usual cloud of gray.
“This looks like quite the warning.” Emma jutted her chin up, and stepped toward him. “Did they not tell you, or are you really trying to be that oblivious? It doesn’t suit you Hook.”
“Emma, take your ship and run,” he whispered, and she shook her head at him. “Please -”
A few more steps, and she was an arms length away, anger clearly written across her face. She winced slightly, and the air around them heated unnaturally, her hands glowing. He took a step back, eyes wide.
“You know what the worst part of this is, for me?” Swan murmured into the breeze. “You think I’m this stupid, and I was for trusting you, but I’m not otherwise. You meted down a death sentence on us to save yourself Killian, you selfish -”
“I did no such thing! I’m here to give you a bloody warning because they want you dead; the Jolly is faster -”
She flicked her hand, and a half ring of ships appeared around the Jolly, arranged like a horseshoe around The Gilded Wing. The ripple of shock that went across his face and through the crew brought a confused look to her face.
“You didn’t know.”
Killian felt his brain trying to process, trying to understand what was happening in front of him. Blackbeard had mentioned a powder that made ships disappear, charms placed on sails to make them faster, a paltry excuse given when they needled him about hating magic. Here, they sat bobbing in the water as Emma glared, shouts echoing off hulls as the members of The Wing realized they were revealed. They had her ship surrounded, and Killian could hear the voices of men yelling their readiness to destroy Emma’s home, her pride and joy. Killian’s dread rose into his throat.
Noise erupted, fire blazing as smoke began to waft from the gunwales and swing guns, explosions behind her as smoke lit with every blast. Emma stepped away and drew her scimitar, looking at him with no expression, unmoved by the cacophony. A fire lit on the deck of the ship that sat at the end of the far left side of the horseshoe shape, a huge purple plume of smoke rising. Men shouted, the attack sudden and brutal as forms flew through the smoke, slashing. Even from his vantage, Killian could see more ships falling to strange attacks as The Gilded Wing in front of his ship shimmered like a mirage over the water, the heavy balls of iron falling through the glamor.
The right side of the horseshoe of ships let out a shuddering screech like metal grinding together, and then a boom exploded across the water, men in dinghies fleeing from The Gilded Wing’s onslaught, pouring onto The Jolly as the ships around his steamed, burned, bubbled, and sparked with strange substances. Emma had outwitted them all, a clever ruse straight from the devil himself. Distract the enemy, and attack from both sides like a candle burning on both ends. No doubt a portion of her crew ran along each side they had attacked to meet in the middle after picking over any finds.
The Gilded Wing, the true ship, not its imposter, flanked any who tried to retreat as it fired furiously. Killian shook his head trying to take it in, Emma still standing before him with an implacable stare, ash and ember flying behind her -
“Captain!” The shout from Will wrenched him from his immobility, and Emma used the distraction to disappear. Pulling her cutlass and running through the smoke, Emma avoided Killian’s men, setting a brutal pace through those climbing aboard, but he wrenched her back away from them. She raised her blade to him, flying at him and attacking fiercely without any holding back, unseeing rage and vitriol. Killian was off guard when she disarmed him, cutlass clattering across the deck, but she hesitated just a moment; long enough for Killian to knock her sword away to bring the point of his hook up.
“Do it then. I’m ready." Her eyes blazed like the color of the sky during a hurricane, ferociously churning fire in the pinpricks. She held her chin up and let the point of his hook bite her neck. He briefly wondered why she didn't use magic on him, but the adrenaline coursing through him didn't leave much time for thought. His breath came out in rasped pants, and her skin gleamed with sweat where soot had not settled.
He pushed against her neck a little harder, watching a small dribble of red slip down the pale flesh as it felt like the battle around them slowed. He remembered being in this same position, her blade against his throat while Liam yelled his name. Swan had no Liam, no fierce protector in command or paving the way. She had herself, her crew, her wit, and her magic - that always had to be enough.
She closed her eyes, and her face relaxed, for a moment he thought he was bewitched; her face when contented was angelic, ready for a peace her life never brought. He could make no movement. When no pain came, she opened her eyes again. The fury was gone, replaced by a profound sadness that rattled him. His hook, stable in every battle since his hand was taken by an unworthy Naval toad, trembled. She looked up at him with a sad half smile and he felt like they'd been locked like this for hours instead of seconds, maybe minutes at most.
"Do it, Killian. Please. Let it end." It was a pleaded whisper. He thought it was imagined, this entire moment a dream in which he was lost, but she kissed the curved and bloodied metal, closing her eyes again.
The honesty of her words scared him, and placed him in his own private torment. This creature, this woman. He could no more kill her here than he could raise her to the Heavens and call her the sun.
A shot reverberated and the moment was broken, Swan stumbling backwards holding her side. Red bloomed under her leather belts.
Scabbard’s blackened hands held a pistol, smoke still rising as he threw it aside. "You and that accursed whore of yours can have each other ten different ways in Davy Jones' locker, Hook." Drawing another pistol from a stained coat, he cocked it and aimed it at Hook’s chest. Hook roared, charging, and let Scabbard's round burn through the top of his shoulder blade. He dug his hook deep into Scabbard’s neck, enjoying the gurgling of the man's death rattle.
Looking back, Swan was gone, and this battle was clearly marked for the winners. Swan's ship was already flying through the waters, heading to the new worlds of the East as charted, the Circle’s ships well plundered by her split crew, but not completely picked over.
Blackbeard had limped away, Scabbard’s, Pantera’s, Babyface’s (he'd learned the boy's name was Oliver), and two more of the Circle’s ships floated without their captains, without their loot, and without most of their crew. Hook himself had suffered a grazed shoulder, a few serious wounds crew wise, and two hands down, taken by a sliding cannon. The Gilded Wing had made her point very clear - they didn't need the Circle.
The Jolly Roger’s crew took stock of what was left, hauling a massive prize away (not as good as Swan's, no doubt), and with minimal wear on the Jolly's timbers.
The men celebrated in port a few days later, and Hook purchased a bottle of rum for himself, watching their revelry. Pouring a fourth glass, he threw it back before taking the bottle through winding cobbled paths and down to his quarters, listening only to the sounds of waves breaking against his ship.
Laying in his bunk, he let the rum, the echo of her voice, and the superimposed image of green eyes burning into his take him away somewhere. Hopefully, somewhere he could forget the ache in his chest.
“Killian. Please. Let it end.”
 Emma moved through the market, silks flashing by, spices and meat cooking in the air, the sparkle of jewelry and well polished fruits on display. She could feel him following after her, the smirk on his face meeting her around corners as they weaved through the plaza pretending to ignore each other.
She slipped down an alleyway, listened to hear his steady footfalls, and when she could tell he was close, turned down another alley. He spoke steadily.
"Swan, just where are you leading me?"
She didn't answer. Emma liked to keep him on his toes, or on the hook as it were. She picked up the pace, moving to get as far ahead as she could. Here, deep in the city streets where it became a labyrinth of dead ends and multi-leveled corridors, she wouldn’t have to track back far. Ducking into a beaded curtain, she opened an ornately studded door.
The room was low lit with plush pillows, satin throws, candles, and more - everything she'd asked for.
The girl that had been sent stared at her before curtsying, and Emma examined her. She was beautiful, darker skin and braided hair, her own age, painted in gold and wearing a sheer outfit that shimmered in the light. Her eyes were dark, kohled, and lined with more gold.
"I'm Shari," she said with a low rasp of a voice.
"Hush then. He'll be here soon," Emma said in a quiet whisper. "You'll address him as Jones, and me as Captain Swan. I'll give you directions as we go."
The woman nodded. His footfalls grew closer.
Killian called for her softly, and she stepped out into the alley, sun slanting through cloth and wood layered high on the sandstone buildings. His hand rested on the hilt of his cutlass, body tensed, until he took in the way she moved her hips as she walked toward him. He cocked an eyebrow.
“Captain Hook.” She tilted her chin up, smiling. “I do believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for our… amicable split of the Circle’s forfeited assets.”
"You're in a giving mood, love?" His smile was all teeth.
"I'm not your love." She tugged on his sleeve, pulling him towards the doorway, letting him get close enough to almost feel the touch of her lips before backing away further.
Killian grew too impatient at the doorway, grinding himself into her and ghosting his lips across her exposed collarbone. She let out the smallest noise, between a sigh and a gasp, which had his pants feeling more confining by the second. Her mouth met his, and soon they were kissing passionately, his leg between hers, rocking her against his leathers in those sheer fabric pants the locals favored.
Emma pushed against him, deepening the kiss, and forced him backwards into the beautiful room. She pulled away, her body melting into deeply patterned silks that partitioned the room into sections. He ducked under one to be pulled through another, her body flush against his, her top discarded. He groaned at her exposed breasts, filling his palm with one as he began kneading. His hook shredded the waistband of the gauzy bottoms, exposing a short set of silken undergarments.
He ran a finger along the middle of the undergarment, and they both let out noises, hers a whimper and his a low growl of appreciation. She was so wet already. Another shove from her through a draped wall, and he was falling backwards onto plush cushions that smelled of honey and spice, Emma draping herself over him to kiss his breath away again.
Killian flipped her, licking down her clavicle and shredding more of the sheer garment along her waist, nipping where he exposed. He drifted his hand downwards, eager to feel her again, as a glint flashed in her eyes. She scooted back, away from his probing hand. He was reaching for her when she snapped a manacle cuff on his wrist. He snarled, but then she was on top of him, kissing him roughly, tongue practically pushing thought out of his brain. Another hand came from somewhere and snapped a modified manacle on his hook. He blinked as Emma pulled away, and a woman joined her.
“Thank you, Shari. Raise him so he will be standing on the balls of his feet.”
“Yes, Captain Swan.” The woman whom he did not recognize walked to a tapestry on the wall, pulling it aside to reveal a hand crank. Following with his eyes, he realized it was connected to a pulley system that attached to the ceiling above him. He tried to move, but the slack was already tightening on the heavy chain.
He rose up, and Emma smiled softly at him.
“Don’t be mad at me for this, because I asked around a bit. Apparently, when you got a little too deep in the drink, you told Smee some privately held fantasies. A little bit of drink in him, a little bit of a truth potion I was experimenting with… well, he gave me an idea of this gift.” Her smile grew radiant as she waved her hand. He looked to see his clothes were neatly folded off to the side, leaving him bare.
“Swan, let me down, and I swear I won’t-”
Warm fingers covered in a slick substance rubbed against his cock, and he swallowed his words thickly. The dark eyed woman placed thick floor pillows on all sides of his feet wordlessly and soon, Emma was almost the same height as him, smiling at him with her head cocked.
“I must say though, I was hardly surprised to hear your fantasies. They aren’t shameful. I wish you hadn’t felt the need to hide them away in brothels.” She stroked a long line of the slick fluid, what he now realized must be oil, from the base of his cock, over his hip, and to his ass. “Most men, when truly in tune with themselves, like a consensual bit of play in the rear.”
He began to struggle and felt his ears reddening.
“Swan, I don’t know where you heard this bit, but I swear to you. Let me out of these bloody chains, or I’ll run my hook through that pretty neck of yours -”
“What was it you told me? Ah yes. Take a leap of faith.” She kissed a path down his back, hot breath hitting his ass, causing his cock to twitch. “I know when you’re lying, Killian. So tell me truthfully. Do you want this? Would you like me to explore this with you? I know it’s not just ass play. I’d be taking full control, you’d be at my mercy. Tell me what you want.”
Warm, oiled fingers massaged his ass, gently stroking over his entrance. He swallowed thickly.
“Swan, I…” Her fingers pressed harder, and he rutted against the air in front of his cock. “Yes, alright, yes. Why the bloody fuck not, Emma, please, I-” A finger curled inside of him, and he felt his length go rigid.
Emma waved the woman to kneel in front of him. She slowly began to stretch him, adding fingers slowly, thrusting in and out. He rocked back on her hand, head lolling in delight at just how good it felt. Her hands were soft, fingers long and delicate, hitting spots in he hadn’t felt in years. He groaned when she took her hand away.
Emma whispered something he could not discern, and he felt the skin under his thighs twinge, his body reacting. Breath hitched in his lungs as it felt like something coiled up his legs and against his bobbing member. Velvet lined rope or silken scarves, maybe? No, it drew under his skin, stroking what felt like every nerve and then some.
Magic.
He hissed. He could feel Emma’s concentration, magic flowing from her to him, but then the sensation was over. He felt her movements against his oiled ass, and turned to her. She kissed him, softly this time, tenderly even. He heard a sound similar to his brace being taken off.
"Emma, I -" he didn't finish the thought as she pushed into him.
The catch of a hard member or its ilk in him, slowly burning through his body, had every nerve firing with pleasure. He could only let out a moan, Emma’s hand massaging the curve of his ass as she pushed further. He was dead and this was paradise; he was alive and his back was arching into Emma’s warm body.
Fully seated, she licked his ear lobe and started moving in small thrusts.
"Captain Swan, his cock is weeping. May I?"
Emma grunted and thrust with a jerk. He let out a groan of pure euphoria.
"You may rub yourself on him until you feel his begging is real. After that, it’s up to you how you please him, as long as it brings him close to release."
Killian whimpered.
Heat embraced his cock suddenly, and the slide of wet, delicious friction had him babbling words that he hoped were close to begging. He felt Emma’s light touches, her nips against the back of his neck, and the steady grind of her hips against his ass. Coupled with the woman in front of them, rubbing wet, glorious heat against his length and sucking marks onto his collarbone had him achingly aroused, and he tried to buck forward into the woman’s core.
“Captain Swan, he is trying to take control,” the dark eyed woman said, bending to lap at his slit. He threw his head back as Emma harshly snapped into him.
“I’ll tell you how he likes to be sucked, then. It’s too bad he can’t behave.” From behind him, he felt Emma kick his legs open wide.
“Yes, Captain Swan.” He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He needed to be in control, to fuck one of them, and he rattled the chains that held his hand and hook. If he could get the mechanism to click -
“Take him fully into your mouth.”
Heat enveloped his cock, tight, and he felt every thought escape with his gasp of breath. Emma was moving in a different rhythm now, faster, as she gave commands.
“Swirl your tongue, harder on the underside.”
“Make sure to put pressure on the vein, see? Listen to the noise he makes, Shari. Poor thing.”
“Hollow your cheeks and suck.”
He was coming undone at the seams, pressure building at the base of his spine, each command and snap into his ass bringing him closer.
“Emma, please, I’m so close.” He felt his cock throbbing, his hips bucking forward. Emma kissed up his neck, and their mouths met. He could feel his balls drawing up, every sensation like a lightning rod. He was so close, so fucking close. Emma smiled against his lips, and with agonizing realization atop overwhelming pleasure, he realized he hadn’t burst in the kneeling woman’s mouth. His eyes widened, and Emma laughed, nipping at his lips. Her magic, damnable fucking magic, held him on the edge of -
“Moan on his cock.”
He let out a scream, the vibration of the woman’s mouth making his toes curl. He writhed, and tried desperately to get his hook undone from the chain again.
“Swan, you infernal witch! Gods, I need to fuck you, I need to come, let me out of this!” He struggled again and she kissed him tenderly on his shoulder blade, smiling mischievously up at him while keeping up her pace.
“I love when you’re like this you know,” she murmured into his skin. “You so rarely let go of control. Happy to take and plunder, but on your terms. Never allowing someone else the chance. Do you know how frustrating that is?” She licked a long trail up his neck, ending in sucking on his earlobe. He struggled again, his body screaming its needs to him, every hair raised. Emma shifted, and he felt for a moment like he couldn’t breathe.
The heat left his cock, with an audible pop. He felt some of the haze in his head clear, and he felt Emma’s device leave him. He shuddered at the sudden emptiness. He could hear both women whispering, and he took a moment to try to bring his body back to the earth. Taking in a lungful of air, he expelled it quickly when he felt a warm palm smack his ass. Looking back, he saw the dark eyed woman, Shari, her gold painted skin pressing against his back. She smiled serenely.
“I’m going to take over for Captain Swan, Jones.” He felt the press of a device, slightly larger than the first, against him. “Captain Swan says this one is enchanted, so take some breaths, OK?”
Killian felt the heat immediately, the easing push into him almost but not quite like a real cock. His eyes fluttered closed, feeling every inch of the sensation, his need to come back with a vengeance. He could feel his ass tightening, his muscles taut and tense, sparks shooting behind his eyelids. Warm hands cupped his face, and he opened his eyes through the haze of ecstasy.
He looked wrecked, and it brought Emma nothing but delight. His eyes were blown wide, and every thrust Shari made had his toes curling and small keening noises leaving his mouth. All Emma could do was kiss him softly, and slowly sink on top of him, one thigh lazily resting against his side, while she kept the other leg planted for balance on a pile of pillows.
When she started to move against him, she could feel the throbbing pulse with every thrust. He let out harsh breaths sometimes coupled with nonsensical half words, occasionally paired with a moan of her name. Watching him lose the careful articulation and eloquence he used with ease brought a rush of heat to her core. Killian felt her own pleasure beginning to bloom from his erratic movements, frantic grinding shifts of his hips to try and distract from his struggles against the chain.
“Are you ready for your real treat, my sweet Sailor?” Emma whispered against the stubble of his cheek. She ran fingers through his hair, watching his face flutter through the pure delight and slight pain of her magic, letting him rise higher and higher with no ceiling. She let out a moan and her nails clawed at his back when he answered with a buck, lazily grinning. She snapped her fingers.
He felt the woman behind him moan, and a second later clamped his eyes shut as the feeling spread. The damn thing inside him was moving, shaking quickly like the earth settling after thunder. Vibration hit that damn sweet spot in his ass that ached from slow thrusts, now a hot pinprick that had him screaming, desperate to feel release.
 Coupled with Emma riding him, now seeking her own pleasure and undoubtedly feeling whatever sensation she’d given him and the hired woman, he was beyond bliss. Nothing had felt this incredible before, his body nothing but pure feeling. Shari pressed against him, nails digging into his shoulders with a warm gush of wetness against the back of his thighs as she gave in.
Emma pushed herself up, now able to wrap both legs around him with the other woman pulling away. He heard the chain being lowered and his feet hit the floor; his immediate reaction was to thrust up, up into her. His eyes shot open, meeting hers.
“Please, please, Emma, please -” With the grind of their hips and his feet planted, it allowed him to fill her so perfectly. He needed to fill her and her body tightened, pulling him -
“I’m coming, oh fuck, Killian, I love it when you beg. I want to hear you -” Her moan ripped through him, wet and tight ripples that tore him into pieces.
“Let me come, Emma. Please, fucking please, Swan.” Keening, the whine was broken by his groan.
Emma bit down on his collarbone, sending him reeling. Every synapse fired deliriously, and when her body clenched on his again and she went limp against his chest, he felt her magic wane in time with her flutters as finally the grip on him stopped. A single thrust and he was undone.
Killian came with a guttural moan, rapturous pleasure coursing through him, lasting for what felt like minutes as he bathed her walls. As he spent the last bit of himself, he realized it was quite possibly the most intense orgasm of his life. His breath came out in ragged pants, and he was sure if it wasn’t, it still had shaved years off his existence.
“That was…” he whispered, slowly and with effort.
“A reward.” She pulled away from him, and waved her hand. The chains fell away, and he stumbled forward onto his knees. The room was still lined with large floor pillows, which he promptly rolled onto, laying on his back to catch his breath. Before he knew it, sleep overtook him.
A short time later, a warm washcloth against his thighs startled him, and he looked down to see the gold painted woman, Shari, softly cleaning his thighs.
“Swan…?” he mumbled, shocked at how low and hoarse his voice sounded.
“I’m sorry, my good sir. She paid me, and said I was to take care of anything else you needed. I can give you a massage if you like, after cleaning you. I can also offer you pistachio cake and honeyed fruit. Or, we can have another round of the pleasures.”
He stayed quiet as she continued her gentle ministrations, contemplating his next move.
“Would you tell me where she went? Do you know?”
“I don’t, sir. Only that she paid me very well, and left quickly.” Her brown eyes met his and she sighed, dropping the rag in the steaming water. “She told me not to say, but she headed in the direction of the Western port.”
He got up quickly on unsteady legs, tugging clothes on in a blur. “Thank you. Here -” He tossed a small purse of coin at her. “For your trouble.”
 He was gone before she could thank him. She opened the bag and counted the silver and gold coins inside it.
The female captain had been right. Give the man a direction, and he’d pay for her words as well, even if they were silver lies. Shari had no idea where the blonde woman had gone; most likely South from her hasty exit towards the market. Men were such fools when enchanted by beautiful women.
Pity. This one was a fool that was also lost in love with one. Shari took her coin and retired for the evening. She wouldn’t need to work for weeks now, and the female captain had left her enchanted play things. She would be amiss if she didn’t spend her time trying them.
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Prompt #1 : Lull of the Forest
 Greenvale is quaint. At least that’s what the townsfolk say. Personally, I’ve never been fond of life here. Half the people here are ignorant and bigoted. They’re nosy and self-serving. Nine times out of ten I’ve found that the thick veneer of kindness and good ol’ fashioned neighborliness is born of duplicity, and to be quite honest it’s exhausting.
 I’ve been saving money to leave since I turned sixteen and got my first job in the town’s only book store- a tiny thing, barely larger than my room back in my apartment. I’ve been thinking of moving to a big city- it may be too crowded for my taste but I’ve found that it has the opposite vibe to small towns. People start out assholish and then turn out to be kind. It’s a pleasant surprise.
  Here I am ten years later with only half the cash I would need to get my own place somewhere I’d actually like to be. I’m scrolling through real estate sites and beginning to reconsider the whole roommate thing, much as I revile the thought of having to live with random strangers when my phone pings. It’s my best friend, Demeter.
 D: omg Riley did you hear  Me: oyg did I hear what?  Me: and are you sure I can’t convince you to come with me  D: Dylan is gone and certainly not, you know I can’t stand urban environments  Me: pls tell me he absconded from the woods with his tail between his legs and the only thing he left behind was a trail of urine  Me: I really don’t want him living next door to me again  D: ...  D: i heard the fairy house is a pretty grizzly scene  Me: wow  Me: guess i won’t have to live next door to him after all. neat.  D: i know he was an asshole but do you need to be so blase about it?  Me: only as much as he needed to chase me with a MIG torch  Me: look, i know you aren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead (but honestly he shouldn’t have been such a dick) and I wouldn’t wish death on anyone- but I definitely don’t have to care that he’s gone  Me: besides, he probably pissed off whatever’s in those woods. haven’t you noticed that when the people who live in that house are super cool, the hidden folk just play (mostly) harmless pranks- and they have never ever attacked children  D: no, they just kill the parents and steal the kids  Me: the bad parents. We both know the Bonners were abusing their kids. And pretty heavily. How many times did you call cps on them?  D: ...monthly. But that doesn’t make it right. Those kids are probably scarred for life- and scared.  Me: maybe. I think I might try buying the place tbh- I don’t even have half the money for a place in any of the cities I wanted to move to but I have more than enough for that place. It’ll be a dent in my funds, but I think it will be worth it.  D: what  Me: hear me out: I’m a misanthropist. They are clearly also not fond of people. Maybe we’ll get along. Plus, I can keep the deed to this place to protect the forest from the idiots in town moving in.  D: First of all that’s a stupid idea. Second of all, you’re too kind to be a misanthropist. You’re just a curmudgeon. A philanthropic curmudgeon.  Me: what  Me: that doesn’t even make sense  D: you’re grumpy af but I’ve never seen you do anything to cause even the people you hate the most harm. Hell, how often did you help Dylan with his homework or share your food with the delinquents who couldn’t afford lunch when we were in school.  D: the whole “I hate humankind blah blah blah destroy all humans” thing is just a front because you always had this complex about helping everyone and it kept backfiring. And then after Ashe...  Me: sorry, Demi, gotta go. I’ve got paperwork to fill out.  D: DON’T YOU DARE MOVE INTO THAT HOUSE I S2G RILEY ANDREW FERGUSON
 I know she cares but I really can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got a house to buy.
 For the next two weeks, I avoid Demeter. I love her but she’s overbearing sometimes and I’m not gonna let her talk me out of this. All the paperwork is taken care of and fortunately, my lease was ending at the end of the month so this should prove to be a smooth transition. All my packing is complete and I get to move into my new place in another few days.  My shift ended at the bookstore so I head back to the apartment only to find a grey slip of a man waiting for me.  “Riley Ferguson, there you are. Your presence is required at the law office of Paz & Squalor. If you have some time to accompany me there, I urge you to.” His voice was strained and gravelly. “It concerns the property in the woods.”  “Sure thing. Let’s go.” I wonder if there’s a hitch in the bureaucratic workings and if there is I’m damn well gonna sort it out.
 An hour later and I’m in Ms. Paz’s office. She peers across the desk at me with a grave look on her face and I can see that she’s mulling something over. The look of concern in her eyes is disconcerting.  She starts abruptly, clearly having decided to get on with whatever I’m here for. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Ferguson.”  “Loss?”  “Dylan Daniels. You are Riley Andrew Ferguson, correct?”  I nod, but the confusion on my face doesn’t assuage her concerns.  “He left the house to you in his will. And everything in it.” She opens a dwarer of her desk and pulls out an envelope, clutching it to his chest. “He also left you this.” She extends the envelope across the desk. “Sorry it took so long to get this to you. The police only found his will a few days ago- everyone was unaware he even had one until then. I just need you to sign some things.” She pushes a stack of papers and a nice pen across the desk. I’m too stuned to respond. “Riley.” She pauses and reaches a hand across the desk to squeeze mine. “I know this must be very hard for you. Take all the time you need.”  The next few hours are a blur. I find myself at my desk, clutching the sealed envelope. There’s no way this isn’t some sort of prank. He probably has the entire town in on it- they have always distrusted me here. People gossip about what sort of mental issues I may or may have. “He has the autism,” is the most favored line I hear from the elderly ladies at the old rumor mill. I am a hundred percent sure they don’t even know what autism is- and to be honest that gets to me far more than them actually suggesting I’m on the spectrum. There are worse rumors of course. I have schizophrenia and murdered my own family in a hallucination. Or I’m a sociopath and did it in cold blood. Of course, it doesn’t matter that I was asleep in the back room at work at the time- trying to avoid going home. My boss is a little scenile and his word isn’t good enough to assuage the good people of Greenvale.  They’d probably accuse me of doing Dylan in, too, if it weren’t for his proximity to the woods.  Deep breath. I open the envelope. There’s a letter inside. When I pull it out, another piece of paper drifts down to the floor. It’s stained with graphite- the pencil must have been smeared. I reach down to pick it up and freeze before I can. I recognize my own writing on the small paper. What the actual hell?  I pick it up and read it, wracked with anxiety. It’s a poem. It’s a poem I wrote in eighth grade. A flashback takes me back to when I wrote it. My first real crush on a guy. It was a boy I had P.E. with every year of middle school. I had just started dating a girl I rode the bus home with when I realized that I liked this guy and the poem quite bluntly reflected the turbulent emotions I was feeling at the time. I had a firm grasp on metaphors but even now subtly and nuance elude me when I experience emotion- which happens far more often than I would prefer. More importantly, why would he have this?  How did he even- I’m hit with another memory. I wrote that the day that little demon stabbed me in the hand with a pencil. I still have the black mark under my skin. Bastard gave me my first tattoo. He must have taken it from my binder when I was in the nurse’s office. Okay. But why would he keep this? It was fuel he could have used to burn me before I came out my senior year.  I remember the letter. With some trepidation, I begin to read it.
Riley,
 I was really hoping to tell you this in person. Frankly, I’ve been trying to for years but you evaded me at every turn. You can’t evade me at this one, though. My death ensured that- that is unless you’re not reading this and I misjudged your caliber on the whole fairy house thing. I don’t know, I figure you’d thrive there for some reason. I think Walt Whitman said something about the strongest tree in the forest is the one that sprouts against all odds.
 My eye twitches at the butchering of the quote and that he confused Walt Disney with Walt Whitman, but I carry on.
 Anyways, sorry not sorry for rambling. I like you. No, that’s putting it mildly. I think I’ve been in love with your weirdness since we first sat together in that class. I had hoped you wrote this poem about me but was too afraid to ever ask you about it. I know it’s no consolation for the animosity I displayed toward you, but I was just so terrified. Your presence left me unsettled and we got stuck together so much after that. So I reciprocated and instilled the fear in you that you put in me. It was wrong and I really am so sorry. Now you know how I feel, though. I bet the creatures of the forest got me. If I’m right, you owe me a kiss when next we meet, wherever that may be.
         Love,              Dylan Daniels. P.S. And I mean love. P.P.S. I know I got the quote entirely wrong. I bet you did that thing where your eye twitches when you can’t correct someone cuz you’re frustrated. That will be another kiss. P.P.P.S. No dictionaries were harmed in the writing of this letter. P.P.P.P.S. Well, I might have lit one on fire after.
 I feel disgusted after reading the letter. He was an asshole and a creep.  A knock at the door startles me into yelping. I catch my breath to answer it and Demeter pushes her way in.  “Sit. We’re talking.”  I do as she says; I’m still reeling from everything I just found out and Demeter is the last person anyone should ever piss off. She may be a kindly teacher and a great friend but not even the gods can save someone incurring her wrath.  “You got the house, didn’t you.” It clearly wasn’t a question but I nod quietly anyways. She sighs. “Well, if anyone from this town could thrive there it would be one of us, but still. What were you thinking?”  I stare into the nether. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t even want the house now,” I murmur. “It’s tainted. He even ruined the fairy house for me.”  “What do you mean? You knew he had lived there when you made the ridiculous plan to swoop in on it.”  I silently proffer the letter and poem without looking at her.  She lets out an incredulous whistle. “Well... He tried to put his heart in the right place. I think. Ooh, girl, this boy was a mess.” She pauses, squinting at the letter. “Wait. Did he leave you the house? Holy hell.”  Demeter stayed the night.  I woke up the next morning to a note on my bedroom door: I’ve reconsidered the roommate thing. Be back soon, packing my stuff.  If they didn’t already, the townsfolk were about to think Demeter insane, too.
 Days later and we were moved into the house, though I was still uneasy. He left a lot behind- including some nearly new furniture. Probably for the best given how spartan Demeter and I both lived. I brought a desk and computer while she brought house plants and a bed.   The house was old and quirky and had an air to it that we both adored. The rear garden was pressed right up against the old forest; with the fence having rotten away long since the tenants before Dylan had lived there, a new one was half built in its place- and wildflowers had overtaken most of the space. All except for one tree that sat in the center of our new yard, between the forest and the house. The entire rear half of the house had large beautiful windows that faced the forest, as well as a massive section of glass doors that opened up to the rear garden, almost like an entertainment area, thanks to the simple stone porch.  “Oh, I am so fixing this up.” Demeter sounded giddy, standing in the decrepit garden. “We’ve totally got this.”  “I hope so.” I can’t shake the uneasy feeling I’ve had all weekend. “I’m heading in to set up some of my supplies.”  I leave Demeter to her own devices and get to work in the back room with the enormous glass doors. After a few minutes, it feels as though the very air is weighing on me. I open the doors wide, not paying any mind to the dangers of the forest. Let them come, they’d probably make better company than 99% of the good townsfolk of Greenvale. The invigorating scent of the forest fills the room and I’m suddenly in the mood for oil pastels.
 It’s been a week now and I still feel trapped whenever I’m in the house. I feel as though I’m being watched any time I’m on the property. The eyes from the forest seem more curious than anything- it’s inside that I feel I’m in danger. After going on an unnecessary shopping trip for the umpteenth time since moving in, I decide to be productive and prepare a basket of food for those that dwell in the forest. Fruits, nuts, pepitas, and even some actual food I cooked up. I set the basket out back, near the treeline, and go back to the room I claimed for my studio. When next I look outside, the basket is empty and moved closer to the house.  I hope they enjoyed it.
 I get home earlier than Demeter and begin to make a habit of leaving food out for my new neighbors- including a dish of milk on my window sill. Each day, the basket is returned closer and closer to the house. I begin finding gifts of seeds, flowers, and odd trinkets in the returned basket. Demeter joyously nurtures the seeds into all manner of strange and exotic plants.  One day, when the house is feeling particularly stifling, I decide to go to the forest edge to get away from it. I find a cozy spot beneath a tree and start writing. I hear the basket being moved but I’m too in the flow to pay any attention- that is until I notice a curious fox looming over my notebook. I don’t want to spook it so I continue writing. Eventually, the fox lays its head on my wrist, watching the pencil soar across the pages. I suppress the urge to make a high pitched noise in joy at this blessing.  My trips to the forest edge became more frequent- as did the fox’s joining me. I started bringing treats for my new friend who cozied up to me as I worked. One day, when Demeter was out later for student conferences, I went out to the back porch- still outside but sheltered from the storm that had rolled in. I mistakenly drifted off to sleep to the sound of rain- and far more easily than I could have fallen asleep inside the house.  I awakened to find myself wrapped in a fine silk cloak lined with the softest fur I have ever felt in my life- and I pet a lot of cats. I also note that I am now inside and the doors are shut. It’s already morning, as well.  Demeter is in the kitchen, making herself a quick breakfast before she heads off to work.  “I’m glad to see you made it home safely. Did you bring me inside?”  “What? No, you were asleep on the floor when I got home last night. I feel like it’s the first time you’ve slept since we got here.”  I grunt noncommittally and leave the room.  Later on, I return the cloak, folded in the basket with yet another assortment of tasty goodies. This time I'm reading rather than working on one of my projects. The fox returns once more and- to my joy- curls up in my lap. I stroke his soft fur while I read and eventually I can hear the soft contented snoring of my vulpine buddy. I'm so comfortable that for the second day in a row I make the mistake of falling asleep outside.  This time, as the beams of morning sunlight drift through my eyelids, I’m in my room. The luxurious cloak is covering me once more and the fox is curled up next to my head. The Prompt Next
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thatmexisaurusrex · 3 years
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The Shotgun Angel: Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1: THE SHOTGUN ANGEL
 Wisteria was built around the Undying Forest. Buildings made so that when the trees grew, they had room. Buildings weren’t built by cutting down to create a flattened plain, no, they were built around whatever was there, indoor spaces and green spaces one and the same in the Old parts of town, high on the mountain top where the Heavens meet the earth. People came from all over the world to see a city created to compliment its natural biome, meant to accentuate and appreciate the awe-inspiring fauna and flora on top of the Endless Mountain.
And then there were the edges of Wisteria, New Town. Temporary bungalows made to withstand perhaps a season if they were lucky, tin thin and lacking the elegance of the city that loomed above it. Most tourists tended to ignore New Town. It wasn’t exactly a prime destination, after all. It wasn’t something many people spoke of unless bemoaning a poverty that felt too immense to wipe clean from their eyes or if you lived there and simply couldn’t ignore the nature of your habitat. However, deep in the heart of New Town, hidden near a crumbling chapel, it was said their lives a daemon spawn who will help anyone for the right price.
The first thing Pearl noticed about Noel Baird was her eyes. Pearl didn’t know eyes could be that color. As if someone concentrated the jewelry shine of a polished shell, moving between a seafoam and aqua depending on the light. She seemed to endure forever bedhead, despite trying to comb her short hair into some presentable shape. She wore a suit as if she knew she needed to look professional, yet the suit was too big on her, too unwieldy, making her seem like someone playing adult. Maybe she was. She looked younger than Pearl expected.
“You just going to stare at me all day or do you want something from me? If not, Stop wasting my time,” grumbled Noel, and Pearl didn’t expect how garbled the voice was, as if this thin, small young woman had irreparably burned her throat leaving whatever croak of a voice that was.
Perhaps that was the daemon in Noel.
Pearl straightened, trying to palm down creases in her own outfit as if her body were rejecting whatever Noel’s clothes were doing entirely.
“Yes. Quite. Well. My name is Pearl Morin and I had heard that Noel Baird would help anyone for a price – that you might be able to help me with my…complicated situation,” Pearl responded.
At first, there was a curdling of the face, a souring in the air when Noel heard “anything”, perhaps the tone Pearl had (it wasn’t as if Pearl hadn’t heard before that her tone wasn’t exactly “friendly” nor “amiable”). But there was a shift, as if Noel’s general rule was to always not judge a book by its cover, and the bristle softens as she stalks around Pearl.
“Your empty money, aren’t you?” asked Noel, her eyes devastating as they read Pearl in ways she felt uncomfortable in admitting, “Nice clothes, but worn, well-kept. You’re one disaster away from New Town. I see why you’re coming to me instead of, say, Holy Agency? Or, perhaps it’s the nature of the ‘problem’ you come to me with. Too embarrassing for the gossip hounds? Willing to risk them for New Town trances, but not the actual problem itself?”
Pearl squirmed under the judgement. She loathed it, some daemon spawn judging her, but she couldn’t say the girl was at all wrong. Which gave Pearl some solace for coming to her for aid in this grave matter.
“Do you have an office? Or will we talk amongst the miscreants in the alleyways and pray they don’t sell my secrets for fortunes?” Pearl said coldly.
Pearl was taller than this girl. She used her height as a point of pride, made sure her back, straight, made it pointedly clear that she would not be harassed by this pay-for-help creature. All Noel did was laugh, glancing over at the muddied children ogling them and shooing them off.
“They’ve never seen clothes so dazzling, but if you’re really so worried, we can meet inside,” explained Noel like Pearl was an idiot, vaguely gesturing for Pearl to follow her into the crumbling chapel behind her, which, strange.
Pearl couldn’t fathom how the structure was still standing, with how little upkeep it seemed to have in terms of the building itself and how archaic the building was. It even had stained glass of angels, surprisingly pristine and untouched unlike the rest of the building, something Pearl had never seen herself in person. It felt as if one particularly strong wind could bring this place down, which would be a shame due to the rare specimens of stained glass.
“I didn’t know such a place existed here,” mumbled Pearl, sensing a faint waft of smoke.
“That’s because no one quite cares for the chapels of yesteryear, left behind as you choose more interactive places of worship,” Noel explained, stepping into eyeline.
Pearl flinched when she noticed that it was Noel who brought about the smell of smoke. She was literally smoking in the church, yet seemed completely relaxed in between the pews.
“You’re, y-you’re,” Pearl stammered as Noel smiled at her, her teeth only slightly pointier looking than the average person – or perhaps that was a trick of the light, Pearl’s brain assuming there had to be something physically demonic about this cursed person.
“You think of daemons,” Noel replied without even needing to hear the answer, “You see, an ancestor of mine some five-hundred years ago offered up her soul as well as the souls of five-thousand of her offspring to the Daemon Azazel, Fallen Angel of Mercy, for gifts beyond her wildest dreams. She got the gifts. The rest of us were lost before we were ever given the choice. So, no. I’m not daemon spawn. I’m merely damned.”
She gestured to the smoke as if it was all settled, that reasoning was set. Maybe it was. But such a horrifying thought. To have your fate sealed before you were even alive, so far in the past that nothing could be done, there was no one to be angry at but probably those who birthed you thinking you could still have some semblance of a happy life.
“Is that why you do what you do?” Pearl asked.
Noel laughed again, more bitter.
“There’s nothing that can save me, you fancy mess. I do this because I want to,” Noel replied.
Noel glowered at the pity, so Pearl allowed herself to shut down such feelings. It wasn’t her fault a strange soul was given no chance. Noel leaned onto the pew, crossing her arms.
“Now, what seems to be your issue?” asked Noel.
There was no running from it, Pearl supposed. She let out a stifled sigh, sitting down in one of the pews.
“My brother, Aria, went missing some three weeks ago. He sometimes will do this. A few days, a week maybe, off partying around, drinking, gambling, but…not three weeks. I fear for him. Especially since he maintains a level of, well…rage against the fact that I seem to be the one keeping us afloat,” Pearl said, trying to find her words in her fidgeting hands, “Our father had drilled into his head that the man is supposed to keep a house afloat, and, well…I’ve always been better at the books. I even made sure he could go on his sprees with no dent in our finances, but he seems desperate to prove himself to be better than I and, from notes I found sprawled in his room, well…I fear for his soul.”
Noel bristled, moving away from the pew she leaned on.
“You’re telling me he’s going to make a deal with a daemon because he feels his fragile masculinity is threatened by you making sure he doesn’t burn through all of your funds?” growled Noel in a way Pearl never saw someone do for her, as if it was okay that she was the way she was and it was her brother in the wrong.
Pearl stuttered a nod. Noel roared, kicking a pew, the pew skewing sideways and awkwardly leaning onto the pew behind it. Noel froze, staring at what she had done.
“Oh, halos and harps,” grumbled Noel.
Pearl startled as a stumbling giant of a man hobbled out in undone priest clothes out from the door to some office Pearl didn’t notice hidden in the back corner. He didn’t look drunk like Pearl expected. More lacking sleep. He had stubble that didn’t quit, hair gelled to the heavens, and a piercing gaze to rival that of Noel. He pointed at Noel accusatorily.
“You break it, you buy it, kid,” the man rumbled, a voice both deep and authoritative with an edge of “kids have to listen to me if I sound like this, right?”.
Noel surprisingly panicked at his reaction, arms flailing.
“I didn’t mean to! This place is a crapshoot.”
“You say that when I let you into my home, I let your shotgun angel stay here?”
“I get it, I get it, I’ll pay for it, okay?”
They gabbed like a dad to a daughter, or maybe more like a disgruntled uncle to a turbulent niece. It juxtaposed the mysterious work-for-hire that made Pearl shiver, almost scared.
“Don’t be so hard on her. The blemish on her allows for a stronger vessel, you know she doesn’t know her strength sometimes,” grumbled a voice from in the office, stretching as he walked out.
This other man, dressed a lot like Noel, carried a hundred-meter stare in his October autumn eyes, voice deep and velvety and just a bit horrifying. Everything about him felt a little too put-together, especially with the two disasters he seemed to keep company with. As if he was born to wear a suit but hates it.
“She has a guest. Don’t embarrass her,” this too-put-together man said, pointing straight at Pearl, making Pearl squirm.
Then she realized why his gaze unsettled her. She turned, surprised to Noel, avoiding eye contact with the organized man.
“Oh of Cupid’s bows, why do you have an angel here? Why is he so easy to hide?” whispered Pearl as if that could make her unhearable, which she knew wouldn’t work but a girl could dream.
“Ortega doesn’t count anymore, don’t worry,” groaned Noel as if for the millionth time, “Stop focusing on those weirdoes – what will you give me in return?”
Pearl remembered why she was there.
“So, you’ll help me, then? With my, um…” Pearl stumbled, glancing at the two strangers in the room, “…situation?”
Noel’s eyes darkened, as if Pearl was truly making a deal with a devil, moving slowly towards Pearl, drawing shivers up Pearl’s spine, making her wonder if Noel’s tale was a lie.
“Depends on what you offer,” said Noel, “What do you think I am owed?”
She was prepared, though. For this pact. Clutching the amulet on her neck, Pearl, broke its chain, holding it out to Noel.
“I heard rumors of you looking for protection from heaven. This is a sliver of a maelstrom. From the Darker Days. I heard it hides a person from the eye of a beholder, so maybe this will help? I don’t know if it hides from heaven, but you can try it.”
She held it out for Noel, only to pull it away. Good. Pearl needed to feel some semblance of power in this agreement. Noel glared as Pearl placed the amulet in her dress’ pocket.
“You’ll get it once you find my brother. Before he does something he’ll regret,” said Pearl.
Noel sighed, nodding.
“That’s fair,” said Noel.
“Does that mean you need your shotgun angel? She’s still sleeping, last I checked,” echoed the still-messy maybe priest.
“Ugh, shut up, Iker. Nobody asked your opinion,” said Noel, stomping towards spiraling stairs behind them.
Pearl followed Noel, glancing over at the eyeing sort-of angel and possible priest.
“Hey, who are those two?” whispered Pearl, hesitant to get on the rickety spiraling staircase.
“Iker and Ortega? They own the chapel. Or run it. I don’t know how landowning works. They let Dru stay here, that’s all that matters,” said Noel, the stairs opening to a lofted room filled with soft pillows, fuzzy blankets, and a young woman sleeping, IV attached to her.
Noel crawled slowly to her, cautious. She touched the girl. Shook her a few times. No response. Pearl wasn’t sure what to make of this. What was happening. She wanted to ask, but she also didn’t want to be tangled in anything shady Noel might be doing. That was when she saw Noel clasping her hands to pray.
“Dru. It’s Noel. I hope you’re listening. I need you to come back, if you can. It’s your choice where you are. Don’t let them choose for you.”
And Noel just watched. Hopeful. Watching that breathing body before her. They snuck up from behind without Pearl even hearing them.
“You’re going to scare her, awakening that shotgun angel of yours,” growled Iker.
Noel glared at him.
“W-What’s a shotgun angel?” asked Pearl.
“Nephilim. A child of blood and bone and holy fury,” said Ortega, leaning a little too familiarly onto the strange almost-priest, “Their essence is tied inextricably to both the body birthed to the mortal coil and to the holiest plane, so their pith is shot from earth to heaven whenever those above call upon them.”
“But angels need hosts,” said Pearl.
“Not when they are half-mortal,” said Ortega, “A rarity, yes, but not unknown to be certain. And heaven, well…they like such soldiers in their garrisons.”
Noel kept her hands clasped, pulling Dru’s hand into her clutch.
“Come on, come on, come on. Didn’t you say you’d come when I call?” whispered Noel in a way that Pearl was sure she wasn’t supposed to hear.
And then it happened. A startle. A stop. A deep breath in, as if life dragged itself back into the body, dazzling topaz eyes lighting as her eyes opened wide, wider than they should. Noel’s hands flung up, cradling Dru’s face gently. Her hands smoked more – Pearl was sure it was probably her touching one most holy. Dru’s eyes fluttered, always on Noel.
“What are you doing?” said Dru, and it was if her voice was both raspy yet like a million relaxing wind chimes.
“Platonic face holding?” suggested Noel.
Dru smiled.
“You called, Noel?” asked Dru, her face still cradled.
“We got a job,” answered Noel, grinning.
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Greetings All Nations, Though these are turbulent times...it will not diminish the reason why I am here. I have been sent by God. My order of business on this Sunday, after #TheRoyalWedding is on #Hawaii volcano, #Gun violence, and #Love. Bear with me today, for I have a lot to say. On some social platforms, you may see this in several parts. Hawaii, My heart does more than go out to you, it hurts along with you. I see it and I pray with you and for you. It is the destination that many, including myself want to visit. It should be a time of reflection for all. Whenever there is a storm or any disaster that scares you...humble yourselves and pray. God loves you and He doesn't want to see anybody go to hell. Let us all realize we don't control shit. God has us all in His hands. When we see things like this, it reminds us that our redemption is near. Warning for unsaved and Reminder for the saved. Hawaii, may God have His way and also be with you. #Gun Violence There are no words that can express how vulnerable the schools and the world have become in these last days. God sees and this is part of the reason why this world won't continue. It is violent, corrupt and Doomed. I have tears in my heart for this world. Keep praying and holding on until Jesus appears in the sky. #LOVE ROYAL Wedding was something to behold in these evil times. Love wins and Love is the way. Highlights for me... Meghan's best friend's twin sons holding train of dress. Too cute. Gospel Choir, Orchestra, the mother's humble and proud expression. How happy the royal couple looked. The Rev Michael Curry's message had the 🔥 Jesus deserved. #CBN reports: "The #Episcopal Church in the United States has decided to scrap the terms "husband" and "wife" from its marital liturgy in its latest move to find favor with the #LGBT community. Phrases related to "procreation" will also be deleted, as they may offend those who do not identify as heterosexual." #BrendaReports: As the people of God, love is truth. Many will suffer because we are worrying about offending folks. How can you be a part of a Church, saving souls on behalf of God in the name of Jesus... by changing words to accommodate folks? See, this is where you and I become unbenefit. U.S. already dropped the ball when Same Sex marriages became legal. Damn, now the Church wants to bend the law of God. Who do you think you are. My friends, when you create heaven, earth, sea and everything in them....than and only than may you go changing something. Get back on track and remember you are here to do the will of God. Love is the way and God is love. Truth: Marriage is between man and woman...anything else is an abomination. I hope we are clear and Repent from this foolishness! 1 John 4:10 Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (More on #Love) December 17, 2006 Dear Senator Warner, I wish to submit my request to have Valentine's Day celebrated as a major holiday. Let me first began by stating how such an idea took form. On February 14, 1976, both of my parents were stripped away from me at 3 years old. At that age I didn't have a meaning for the word love, but thinking back, I remember feeling it. So, when my father killed my mother on Valentine's Day through Domestic Violence, though tragic, that was his own way of dealing with rejection and pain. This shows how once again, the strength of love, combined with jealousy, is underestimated. Approaching the 31st anniversary of my mother's death, I celebrate that day with a lot in mind... Yes, Valentine's Day does have a yearly spot on the calendar, but it usually comes and goes in the midst of a regular routine, seemingly not important enough to celebrate on the same scale as Christmas and Thanksgiving. Join me as I ponder the question, What do we really know about this indiscriminate word LOVE? Well, we do know that Webster's Dictionary lists the meaning as... love - Intense affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties; a strong feeling of attraction; heart - The hollow, primary muscular organ of vertebrates which circulates blood throughout the body, the emotional center, such as in love, hate, consideration, or compassion. If I wrote the word “love”, and asked each individual to give their own meaning, I believe the many ideas of love would amaze the most cultured mind. As sure as the heart is the main organ in one's body, it is the main thing that drives us in our daily decisions. For example: The brave women and men in the military are willing to die, on behalf of their love for this country. Let's not forget the selfless firefighters and policemen who lost their lives out of love and compassion on September 11, 2001. When people were running out of the towers, they were going in. The civilians on Flight 93's love was so strong for the U.S. they said, “Let's roll.” Though it's painful to recount the events, it's still crucial that we not downplay the power of LOVE. I can't talk about love, without talking about the world's creator, and how He gave His life on the cross to pay for our sins. The love of Jesus spared my life, let me see His face and have Him tell me what it would take to keep my life. In the CONCORDANCE of the BIBLE, there are over 60 references to the word love. My love is so absolutely strong for The Lord, that I feel compelled to share scripture for my closing words... (SONG OF SOLOMON 8:6-7) “Set me as a seal upon your heart, As a seal upon your arm: For love is as strong as death, Jealousy as cruel as the grave; It's flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, Nor can floods drown it. If a man would give for love All the wealth of his house, It would be utterly despised.” Love, Brenda
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ikonislife · 7 years
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Always Mine.
- Hanbin x Reader (ft. Monsta X’s Shownu)
- Requested part 3 to Just Go and Please Stay 
- Angst, fluff 
-This is it folks, the last installment of this monstrosity. It only took me 7 months to finish (sorry guys, I lost inspiration for it somewhere in the middle) I’m glad to be able to finish it. Even though it’s not one of the more popular posts I have, I’ve invested a lot of time into the trilogy so I sincerely hope you all enjoy at least some part of this insane journey. Thank you for reading. As always, feedbacks are welcome.
- Despite being the one to initiate the break up, Hanbin finds himself lost without you. All the while, the return of your past life poses an imminent threat that Hanbin knows all too well might be the end of you and him forever.
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Endless streams of clouds floating pass the small window of the private jet fast steading, tearing through the golden rosy sunset sky. Leaning back into the white leather seat, Hanbin nurses the second glass of whatever the hell it was he had grabbed out of the bar in the blur between boarding and stumbling to his seat. He couldn’t really care about anything but you at this moment what’s with the strange cryogenic state your relationship is in as you laid silently in the hospital alone. Whatever could take his throbbing mind off the obvious state of the stale relationship he had ruined will works, nothing seems to matter to him anymore. Watching the amber liquid swirling around the crystal clear pieces of ice, condensation rolling down the crystal glass, old memories flood his senses much more bitter than the taste of poison on his tongue. Against better judgement of the throbbing headache that screams for him to take rest, he let himself drown in the ghost of your memories.
It wasn’t too long after he was abled to call you girlfriend that you had gotten a big promotion at work. To commemorate the occasion and a small reward for your hard work, he took you on a surprise weekend getaway on his jet. The wonder filling your eyes, the cute random questions you’d ask, your curiosity, all if it delighted his excited heart.
“Wait babe, you mean all this time you took business trip, it’s this plane?” You stared around in awe of every tiniest details. Sure you had been in first class on trips with your own company so a bar on the plane isn’t anything new. However, he got a freaking chandelier, a damn chandelier in the stupid plane. If that doesn’t scream extravagant, you were sure you didn’t know what would. 
Your amazement found itself landing on the large leather couch, white just as the rest of the interior and no doubt as heavenly as the one in the living room of his more than spacious house. Hanbin had teasingly winked, whispering sultrily, hot breath fanning the shell of your ear, something about mile-high club and bed when you had stumbled pass it earlier while boarding. Too wrapped up in your own amazement of the overwhelming sight, you hadn’t paid much attention to his words until now. A giant burst of heat and steam erupted on your face the second your brain clicked onto what he had meant, your face redden, way worse than the reddening sky outside.
“Hmm, what’s wrong? I thought you knew?” He peered down at your half amused half impressed expression with just a hint of embarrassment. He caught your pouty lips in his, moulding them perfectly against each other.
“I don’t know.” You giggled hard at the slender fingers prodding at your side. “The thought you of waiting so so “patiently” in line through security, then to get on the plane, then through custom is kind of funny.” Your little air quote gesture pulled a hearty laugh from Hanbin, his eyes lighted up in delight just as it always did from your random little antic. “Now I know why you never minded long trips. You practically brought the comfort of home along with you.”
“Why? cause you think I can’t be patient? I’m offended.” His brows furrowed, his lips pursed in feigned anger but his eyes gave it all away - way too cute to be angry.
“Hey, you say that. Not me. Come on, babe. You were like fuming the other night when we had to wait in line for those donuts you called stupid then ate half the box in one sitting.” 
“Because it IS just some stupid donut. Why do I have to wait in line for that? I could have my chef makes better one for y-” His voice trailed off, expression immediately ceased up at your smugly smirk. Suddenly his words failed him as he scratched his head awkwardly, eyes stared longingly out the passing clouds avoiding your victorious giggle.
“Mmhmm… patient huh?” You flushed your body tight against his, fingers intertwining, seeking for warmth and security. Glancing back at the couch once again, you were sudden very aware of his every movement, from the way he’s rubbing up and down your arms to the soft breath steaming up the skin of your neck. Heat rushing, this burning all over your body as you struggled to keep the stableness in your lungs. “Hanbin, uh… you weren’t serious about the couch being a bed right?” You questioned, trying your best to keep your heart steady although you had an idea he knew you were far from calm from the way he stole that smirk right off your face. No doubts by now he had already felt the erratic drumming of your heart. The devilish mark of his playful side returned, replacing the puppy eyes and pouty lips as he knew once again, he was in full control.
“You’ll see…” He whispered simply before hoisting you up toward the piece of furniture in question. “Just to clarify, I can’t always have comfort of home at my disposal because this cute girl I call girlfriend always refuses to go on business trips with me.”
Everything was adorable in his eyes. You spent most of the rest of the flight staring out the window while snuggling up to his chest, forgotten completely about the objection of him wasting so much money celebrating something as lame as a promotion. You had always felt pale in comparison to your multimillionaire talented CEO boyfriend. What is a measly promotion in contrast with him holding a whole thriving empire under the tips of his fingers. What you didn’t know was his chest swell in pride for being able to love someone so determined, so hard working. Every little achievement, every tiny accomplishment would be a big deal in his eyes and he loves boasting about you any chance he gets.
Something about recalling the past had put a grumble in his stomach, Hanbin stands up stretching his legs before moving toward the small bar hoping for food. A slight upward curve of the lips still prominent on the worn out face sensing the sudden lift in the heaviness of the atmosphere from the sheer remembrance of you alone. He can’t wait to be back next to your side, to hold your hand, to recharge himself. Ultimately, he just wants to be there to ensure your safety once you’re awaken.
Bracing from the unexpected turbulent induced jerk, he sends paperwork that had been resting so peacefully on the small table flying through the air. A strange white envelope that resembles nothing of what could be work related catches his eyes as it lands with a force beyond impact of mere paper. His brows furrow in utter befuddlement before raising high from the way his eyes lit up in anticipation. Lily had given it to him before the trip along with a cryptic message bout urgent matter of the heart. Could it be that after all this time, you finally decided to break down his wall with the full force of your heart… He could only hope whatever lies in the carefully seal paper pouch would set his soul free. He had been waiting far too long for your frustration to settle and setting your feisty self ablaze, bursting into his office demanding a face to face. He knew it wasn’t a possibility but a boy could dream. 
His fingers hesitate, a soft smile blooming as he soak in the bends and curves spelling out his name. He wouldn’t mistake it anywhere. He spent hours obsessing over how neat your writing was compare to his. You had complained for the umpteenth time about the chicken scratch he actually expect his subordinate to decipher when he, out of frustration, challenged you to do better. Sitting back down, food pushed to the back of his mind, mess of paper neglected, his finger nimbly tear open the envelope with great care. 
“My dear Hanbin, I hope you’ve been well in my absent. You’ve always work way too hard and never bother with taking time for yourself. It worries me a great deal that I swear I lost 5 years off my lifespan. Now that I can no longer pester you to eat, promise me you’ll eat on time (and not junk food. You have personcal chefs, please put them to work). Please, find it in your heart to sleep once in awhile. I know, I know, the great vampire Hanbin knows no sleep but just try. It’s fun! Since I am no longer cluttering up all your time, it should free up a whole lotta time for these mundane activities that God-Hanbin deemed unworthy. You know, you have to assimilate to us normal folks at some point, don’t just sit in your great office all lonely. Eating, sleeping, going to yearly check up, have some fun, watch a movie, go shopping, meeting friends, hit up the club sometimes, all these things might seem small but they go a long way. Don’t worry, you look way too ethereal to be of this world, people will still know you’re heaven sent even if you do the things us normal folks do. Take a rest, the sun will rise and the world will still spin round tomorrow. Promise me you’ll do all of that so my heart can rest easy.”
Always with the praising and the subtle sarcasm, he chuckles at your seemingly delightful word despite nearly losing yourself pinning after someone as worthless as he is. Within the highs of laughter induced by your joke, a hidden sadness lurks in the shadows of the twists and turns of your written thoughts. It was almost as though you were writing final, farewell words. Words that will neatly wrap up the greatest chapter in his life, put a bow on the last bit of lingering hope in both yours and his eyes.
“I guess next comes the hard part now that the jokes are out of the way. I want to apologize for intruding back into your life when you had made it clear I was no longer welcome. You must understand, I was desperate to know of your wellbeing. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you’re hurting. It’s been a hell of a couple years with you in my life. I’m undeniably happier when you’re near and I hope you know that. You shined light in the darkest corner of my life, in ways I didn’t think was possible. You know, when I met you, not in a million year would I have thought you’d honor me by letting me share your life in such an intimate way. I would’ve choose to be with you million times over even if every single time I’d end up in heartbreaks. Don’t be sad, please. I know you wouldn’t hurt me if it wasn’t necessary because you’re a man of reason. Is it safe to say that you were at least in love with me when you made this decision? I also know you like to blame yourself for everything, even if it’s inevitable. I’m fine, love. I understand. Don’t blame yourself, don’t wallow in guilt, alright?”
The tear he had thought dried up from so many nights sulking in his own self loathe  burst out like a stream, soaking his Sahara liked soul, begins to meander its way down his pale cold skin stinging every bit, every cell. He couldn’t find the strength to continue but he must. He misses you too much to part way with the thought you had so wonderfully written down for him. He will adore this the way he had everything else you’ve done even if it’s excruciatingly painful. Maybe, just maybe somewhere in the heartfelt lines, you’ll help him move on too.
“You’ve inspired me to smile at adversities and face my problems head on. I used to take your wise words for granted but now that I can no longer confide in your vast wisdom, I suddenly find myself lost? I don’t know how I’ll make it through hardship without your encouragement and advices but perseverance is key right? 
Thank to you, I’m a better person. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for one of the best chapter of my life. Thank you for letting me share a piece of history with someone as wonderful as you are. Thank you for loving me. I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said and all the things I should’ve said but didn’t. I wish you all the happiness in the world, happiness I couldn’t give you. I’m elated to see that you’ve found someone to entrust with your love once again. I must say she’s very exquisite. I hope she can make you feel like the only man in the world. I promise I’ll leave now so you can rebuild your life. Don’t worry about me. Hyunwoo had been taking excellent care of me and I thank you for bringing him back into my life. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Please, tell your parents I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye to them in person. I love them so much and thank you for allowing me to be part of the family even if it’s just for a little while. Tell your sister I’m sorry I can’t take her to Disneyland for her birthday. I’m sure you and your lady will be able to take care of that.
I won’t lie to you and say I’m not having a rough time. How could I not parting way from my heaven sent best friend and my everything. I will miss you so much. 
Please allow me to say this one last time. My wonderful Hanbin, I love you. I will always love you. I hope we can meet as friends as we once were in the future.”
Leaning back onto the chair that barely seems to be able to support his sadness, Hanbin sighs dejectedly, a bitter chuckle breaches the corner of his lips. You were back with Hyunwoo after all. All his fear had been realized.
He lost you.
A sudden anger arises at the mention of your new love, or rather true love. Where the hell was he that you’ve been suffering all this time, all alone. He was supposed to make sure you’re safe. He was supposed to make sure you’re happy. All the days Hanbin spent by your side in the hospital, not once did Hyunwoo show up. Rage flashes, spreading like a brush fire in dry season, Hanbin slam his fist onto the small table before tearing away for another drink, already going against your words of taking care of himself.
It had been a mere 12 hours since Hanbin arrived to his destination but the anxiety of being separate from you already begin to surface, itching and aching through every inch of his body. It itches but when he reached out to scratch it dissipates, radiating out like an internal burn. It was nowhere but everywhere at once. There was no particular source of it he could sooth, no visible marks, just intense discomfort all throughout. Perhaps this grief with Hyunwoo for not taking care of his girl, Hanbin’s girl, properly pushes him just a little bit further over the edge than usual.
Deals signed in record time, even his own assistants couldn’t believe the aggressiveness of thousand lions pouring out from their own boss.  He has no time to waste, no mind left to spare to entertain the pompous old man sitting across the table from him, all he wants now is to return home to the quietness of your hospital room, to the little niche he had made with you even if the imminent date of your awakening looms ahead like a great storm. He even finds himself missing the vexing beeps of your heart monitor. if he’s really honest, he had found solace in once again be able to listen to your heartbeat even if it wasn’t by pressing his face close to your chest while reveling in the pleasure of your soft hand carding through his jet black hair. 
Waiting impatiently in the rooftop cafe of his hotel, his foot taps to some random rhythm that seems to take the surface layer of the aching that resulted from missing you away, just a surface scratch. He gazes upon the spotless black sky dirtied with the city light, wishing hard to turn back time to that summer night spent making love to you under the stars. 
Oh what a summer that was. You had allowed him to take you to the furthest corner of your comfort zone, entrusting him wholeheartedly in all the crazy ventures he suggested even barely a few months into your young bud of a relationship. You both pushed your own limits to extents neither of you had before, physically and emotionally. You let him depended on your comforting embrace and cuddles like an abandoned puppy finally finding a permanent home to rest his weary mind, chipped away by a world he never truly belonged in. In return, he helps you get lost through his low grunts and your own moans of highs that only Hanbin could provide. He sighs out in satisfaction as his senses recall the ways you let him touched you, hold you. Ways that let him know you had given yourself fully to him, obeying his every word, drinking in every pass of his fingers. 
Perhaps the most memorable of all would be the hours laid under the bursting galaxy above that was so magnificent without getting stained by the city’s lights, bodies sticky with sweat, mind drunk amongst the depth of your post coital chat. Neither of you really minded that just bellow the thin cover, both your bodies were dirtied in the best way possible as he held you close to his chest. You spilled your heart and soul to which he reciprocated with everything he got, every secret he held, even the most intimate that had never taken a breath before that night. With each graze of your index along his soft skin, he felt himself sink further into this reality where only you and him exist. The money, being CEO, the pain of the past, none of those things matter when in this moment he had you safely by his side. 
God how he wishes to be able to call out to you just one more time. He just wants to hear the delight in your voice when you answer, the sparks in your eyes, the way your lips curve up without you even needing to command them to at his utterance of a simple “baby”. It’s such a simple wish. He’s not asking to be immortal or to be forever rich, he’s only asking for his baby girl back. Why couldn’t the universe just grant him this one simple wish. What good is all of his money and power for if he can’t even keep you safe and by his side. 
Just then, anguish in all the empty wishing upon millions of stars, he suddenly found another emotion coursing through his vein. An emotion so primal that perhaps he could argue it was born when man was created - anger.  Out of the corner of his eyes appear the source of all his unpleasantness, like a predator, with a growl, he pounces on his prey.
“Hanbin, What the fuc-”
Before the tall boy could say anything, Hanbin already had him by the collar. Dragging Hyunwoo toward the staircases, Hanbin ignores the fact that Hyunwoo has several inches over himself, that his body packing way more muscles, that if he really wanted to, Hyunwoo could put him down with one punch. He left behind a young woman, very pretty Hanbin had to admit, although nowhere near your beauty. Panic stricken on her previously content features, dainty hand covering her mouth in pure shock. Her other hand grasping onto Hyunwoo desperately, lips whispering his name like a prayer. With all his might, Hyunwoo yanks away pressing a soft kiss onto the sun kissed skin of her cheek before grinning as if to let her know it was okay. She nods in return, eyes near tearing at this point but she stepped back, letting go of the needy grasp on his arm. Hyunwoo once again let Hanbin drags him off to a secluded corner before feeling himself being slam against the wall.
“She’s dying in the hospital yet you’re oversea, flirting with some girl. I thought you were better than this Hyunwoo.” He rages, wishing he could pummel the shit out of the cheater. He gave up his whole life, whole world so you and Hyunwoo could have another shot at happiness. Yet here the bastard was, smiling, arm in arm with someone else. He wonders if the girl even knew the man she’s so affectionately snuggling up to has a girlfriend, immobile all alone in the hospital bed. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.
“What in the world are you saying, Hanbin. I don’t understand.” Baffles, all Hyunwoo could do is stammers in confusion. If it wasn’t for the hand he has against Hanbin’s chest pushing him away, Hyunwoo was sure he’d soon pass out from the constricting hands Hanbin has on the collar of his shirt.
“Don’t play dumb, asshole. I didn’t break up with her so you can treat her like shit. How could you hurt her like that.” Hanbin seethes at Hyunwoo’s apparent ignorant. No longer were blood coursing through his veins but rather boiling hot magma. Hanbin could feel every inch of his body going numb from the heat of rage and no one can stop him now.  
“HANBIN. how dare you.” Hyunwoo snarls back at the ridiculous accusation. He had remained un-bias up till this point. He could understand why Hanbin decided on such stupidity. It’s action of a fool so deep in love he has gone borderline irrational. The hidden rage was well masked by an unsettling calmness he didn’t even think he could keep up with.  After all, how could he not feel the slightest tinge of fury when he practically watched his best friend break down, reduced to a mere shell without a soul by an idiot that claimed to love her.
“I could ask you the same thing. You broke her heart and left her on the side of the road like yesterday news. I was there for her the past two months. Where the hell were you?” a strong prod from Hyunwoo’s finger found itself onto Hanbin’s chest, no doubt marking it with all the bitterness Hyunwoo felt watching you cried. “You think you’re a saint now that you “sacrifice” your relationship? Please, give me a break. I’m starting to think I made a mistake telling her to fight for you.” Hyunwoo shoves the angry man in front of him off , not even realizing how much strength he was exerting out of pure discomfort from having heard such preposterous things being said about himself. Nothing could make your usually calm and collect teddy bear happier now than landing a fist right across Hanbin’s face but he knew you wouldn’t like it so two months worth of pent up frustration went onto the wall behind Hanbin’s head instead. He had been siding with Hanbin for so long that he forgotten about the first reaction, the first emotion he had seeing you slumped over on your front door step that night. Pure white hot rage. “You shitty ass excuse for a boyfriend. Are you even a fucking man? You broke her heart but you couldn’t see her off properly? You couldn’t even take her home yourself? You had your assistant dragged her away like trash? Not even a goddamn proper explanation. Give me one reason right now to not kill you.” Hyunwoo had never been more glad for his grand stature than now as he hover over Hanbin with all the intimidation he could musters up.
Fist shaking in the air, Hanbin’s anger manifests itself before his senses overcome, dropping the would be punch out of confusion at the strange sentence. Letting his rival off, Hyunwoo backs away, brows furrow in an effort to decipher the expression on Hanbin’s face.
“Wait. What do you mean you told her to fight for me?”
“The girl was dying over missing you, dumbass. She kept questioning herself, saying that she wasn’t good enough. She thinks you were over her and uses me as an escape plan. Don’t make me regret all those night I spent convincing her that you still love her.” 
Dumbfounded, Hanbin crashes his weight onto the railing of the cold metal staircase. Both men stood there in silent, nothing but panting could be heard as they both try their best to collect themselves. Clearly, a big misunderstanding is afoot and neither of them are stupid enough to not realize so. Hyunwoo watches as Hanbin murmurs like a madman incoherent jumbles of “but she said” and “no, that’s not right” before he cuts him off, shaking his shoulders to snap him back to reality.
“Listen to me, she fucking wants you. Not me. We spent two months together, every single night. Every oversea trip I took, she was right there in the hotel room with nothing but thin air separating our bodies. Trust me when I say if there is something between us, it would’ve happen already.” Hyunwoo sighs. How could he not have seen this, it’s so you to pull some sort of stun like this. He leans back, shoulders resting against the cold wall feeling the exhaustion of the day pouring out. “I’ve moved on, Hanbin. That girl you’re accusing me of cheating on Y/n with, her name is Ella. She has been my personal assistant for the past 2 years, ever since I got promoted. She was the first person I had truly loved after Y/n but you know, moving on from someone like Y/n is a hell of a fucking feat.” He chuckles at the way your eyes sparks with delight when you realized the way Hyunwoo look at Ella, the same stare you felt all those years ago. He near had to throw you over his shoulders and run away when you had threaten to spill his secret after he failed to confess for the 3rd time.  “She has been helping me making a move on her for a good month now. They actually had became pretty good friends. I get so scare every time they hide in the corner and giggling about lord knows what. God know where I’d be if she hadn’t pep talked me the whole way through. Before I left, she schemed a plan for me and it worked. I’m with Ella, Hanbin. We’re official. I have a girlfriend and it’s not Y/n.” Hyunwoo’s visage finally soften at the sheer utter shock breaking upon Hanbin’s pale face like dawn over a new day.
“WHAT?! but the way you talked about her that one time we met. Even that first time we saw you…” Hanbin could remembers that night clear at day. He had always felt guilty for swooping in on your vulnerable state but that night, that night was the last crack in his iceberg of selfishness. Hyunwoo stood there, stoic and silent but behind those kind droopy eyes, Hanbin could see a man in pain. A man that just witness his could be wife walked off with another man. What he couldn’t predict was the fact that Hyunwoo had been struggling with moving on for so long that in a rush of relief and nostalgia, he suddenly found himself lost. Lost in the flurry of the past, in the pain, and in guilts. All 3 years worth of emotion suddenly flushed back mixing with the pain of leaving and the guilt of moving on. Hyunwoo cried tears of what, he didn’t even know. All he knew was his heart was finally light watching the genuine smile on your face as you stared into Hanbin’s eyes. He knew Hanbin is your endgame. 
“We spent 3 years together as a couple, there will always residual feelings, nostalgia. Nothing will ever take that away. She was once my whole life and I was hers. Do you really think we could ever get rid of such important people in our lives just with the ticks of time? We still love each other…” Hyunwoo mulls over the word carefully, watching the way Hanbin’s expression twists up in pain, elated that his words affect the poor boy greatly. Not in a menacing way, of course, just in a way to see if this man in front of him is really worth your time and love. If he ever had doubts about Hanbin’s love for you, this anguish emanating from the ghost pale boy upon hearing the sentence “we still love each other” would be enough to dispel it all. If he even has any doubt to begin with. “…just not in the way you think we do. You don’t even know how glad I was to know she has you. You treated her million time better than I could ever have, ever will. You need to get over this true love bullshit. We’re not five watching Disney movies anymore. Happily ever after is what you make with the person you love, the person that love you. It’s not some ultimate god given will, alright? I thought Y/n was my heaven sent piece of forever but look at where we are. Ella is my forever now and you’re Y/n’s. Don’t fuck it up. Hyunwoo stares at Hanbin with those soft understanding eyes although to outsider, the way he’s raking his rough hand through his perfectly made hair would say otherwise. “I couldn’t admit to myself that I’ve moved on. I couldn’t bring myself to accept that I love someone other than her but Y/n, she has her way of bringing closure to everything. Judging from your tormented state, she did it to you too, didn’t she?” 
“She wrote me a letter. Wishing me well and pretty much said you two got b-back together.” Even saying it now pains Hanbin. Sure he had seen you snuggled up to Hyunwoo back in the days of his secret one sided crush. He’d smile every time you pressed a gentle kiss on Hyunwoo’s cheek, hoping someday he’ll be lucky enough to meet someone that’s never ashamed of showing her love so publicly. Deep down, he knew he had already met that person, just at a very wrong time. He was disappointed of course but what could he have done. You’ve been with Hyunwoo for almost 3 years when you bulldozed him over onto the cold pavement. Sometimes he had wondered what would happened if that fateful day just 3 years earlier. Now, now that he had a taste of how wonderful, how gloriously addicting your love could be, just the thought of Hyunwoo comforting you burns every millimeter of his body.
“She’s lying. She’s been miserable as hell. What funny is she actually think she could hide it from me, puts up a happy front. I could give her temporary comfort but long term, it’s all you man.  Whatever it is you did that makes her think she has no chance of getting back with you. I don’t care what it is but if she lies, she did it so you’re not burden with the weight of knowing she’s hurting over missing you. I’ve been dropping her off at your work and picking her up for awhile now. I never thought she’d put herself in harm way like that. I’ve been oversea on a business trip for over a week now so I told her not to go by herself but she didn’t listen. Stubborn as a bull, that one is.” Hyunwoo’s words trail off at the thought of your steel liked mind and judging from the small chuckle falling off of Hanbin’s lips, he agrees.  “My other assistant told me she’s in the hospital. I was ready to fly back, dropped all my meeting actually, but I was informed she’s in very good hands.”
At this, Hyunwoo place a firm squeeze on Hanbin’s shoulder with a small understanding smile. Hanbin cards through his hair, blaming himself for being so stupid as to not see through your lies. It’s so you to pull a stunt like that. You had always put him before yourself.
“God… What the fuck is happening, man. I, I just don’t understand how she could pushed herself that far off the edge. If I hadn’t followed her that day…”
“But you did. And you caught her. Like always, you caught her when she needed you most. That’s what important. Look, I know the kind of person you are. You don’t do things without reason. And while I appreciate your concern for my love life, you really should’ve talk to both of us before sending her away like that. You know how she is, man. She’d rather sacrifice herself than have harm comes our ways. That’s her biggest flaw to be honest, she’s too kind to us shitty men.” Hanbin nods in agreement, sniffles grew loud in the relief the clear of all the storm clouds that had been plaguing his mind for much too long.
“I fucked up really bad, Hyunwoo. I don’t know if I can make things right. God, I wish I ran into you sooner.”
“Do right by her. Start over and beg for forgiveness. She been through enough, it’s time for her to be happy. We’ve both fucked up her life majorly. I missed my chance of making things right years ago but you still got plenty of time. I really want to thank you, for taking care of her after I left. I haven’t seen her so happy talking about anyone in such a long time.” He wasn’t lying. Hyunwoo knows better than to compare the love you have for Hanbin to the love you had for himself. Yet he still has to man up and admits that Hanbin is really your happiness from the way your eyes sparkles recalling all the good time.
“A fair warning. She’s not exactly herself lately so she will give you a hard time especially if she misunderstand your intention but persevere. Go to her, she needs you.” Using the line of text that Hanbin used to send Hyunwoo your way, Hyunwoo finally got his chance to repay your love and kindness by sending Hanbin back into your arms. Walking away with a deeper understanding of each other, Hanbin and Hyunwoo spent hours that night talking about the delights you brought to their lives. How someone so small could impacted their lives in such monumental ways. They talk well into the morning, all the way till Hanbin got the call he had been anticipating.
“Hanbin ah, she’s awake!” His mom excitingly exclaiming over and over again through the phone. Hanbin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. First Hyunwoo gave him the best course of action of his life and now you’re awake. He feels like he had just won the lottery 3 times over. Both men of your life broke down into tears at the wonderful news, overjoy that you were back in their lives once more. Hyunwoo parts way but not without a giant hug to which Hanbin more than welcome. 
“Alright, I better check on Ella. She got so freaked out when you dragged me off.” Hyunwoo lingers at the doorway, basking in light of the newly formed friendship.
“Tell her I’m so sorry and I’ll make it up to you both. You know, you better save me a seat at your wedding. The way you gushed about her for the past 4 hours, I can already hear wedding bells.” Hanbin jokes with a supporting slap to Hyunwoo’s broad shoulder. Elates in the way the older boys blushing so intensely at the thought.
“You know what, I better be freaking best man at yours and Y/n’s. I mean, I think I had a pretty big part in this future holy matrimony, don’t you think? At least godfather to your first born? Yes?” Hyunwoo retorts sassily, earning a big shove from Hanbin as he saunters off down the winding hallway.
“Yea, yea. Get back to your lady before she thinks I killed you. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight and good luck!” Both men wave each other off into their love ventures, hopeful that no matter the process, only happy endings await especially with the gain of a new friend in each other.
Awaken cold and alone, you summon all your strength into a futile attempt of sitting up only to come crashing down moments later. The loud thud stirs awake a sleepy Mrs. Kim slumping in the couch still hold the scent of her son whom spent nights wasting away to that rhythmic beeps. You grunt loudly, fingers move to yank away the constricting wire in a daze of confusion. Why were you attach to so many things, where the hell is this place. Your whimpers and whines grow loud as frustration settles in. Tears breaching the brim of your eyes, you nearly scream when a small gentle hand comes to caress your nappy locks.
“It’s okay… You’re safe. You’re safe.”
His mom repeats the small chant, each word eats at your nervous heart and unsettling mind until your hands drop away willingly, letting her soft dainty hand put everything back in place.
“Mrs. Kim? Wh- How?”
“None of that matter right now, okay? Rest and get healthy. My pretty daughter shouldn’t worry about anything right now. Focus on getting better.”
“I-” You couldn’t even get a single syllable out before the soft shushing of a concern mother hushes your anxiety back to sleep.
“Shh. Rest, I’m going to get the doctor okay?”
You nod, feeling the steel weight of your lids closing down on your vision… Whatever, however you get here will have to wait.
The second he landed, Hanbin mind tunneling in on the fastest route back to you. Knowing your heart, he can now confidently open his arms to embrace you back in his life. Nearly knocking over every person in the usually cold drab path that suddenly doesn’t seems so cold anymore. That stale yellow wall lining the way to his temporary home seems to be bursting with sunshine as he storms into your room with a loud bang of the door to only find it empty. Tottering toward the vacant bed, his lost eyes could still make out the hospital bag Lily and Jane had packed for you beside the nightstand. You’re definitely still here. The sun shining joyously matching his mood as he runs a hand over the bundled up blanket draping precariously over the edge, pulling it neatly back to where it should be. The sun’s rays dance upon the room, giving it a big burst of colorful joy to the usual quiet room. Set on his way to find you, his footsteps halt as the disheartening sight of a twinkle of gold caught his eyes. You were nowhere to be found but the necklace holding your ring left behind, lonely on the night stand.
Speeding back into the hallway, he clutches the ring close to his heart hoping you were just wandering around nearby. He suddenly finds himself smiling at the strange habit of yours, always wandering off the second he turns his back. He could still remember all the panic he had the first few months of being with you when one second you were clinging onto his hand, the next disappeared into thin air. Growing up as the heir to a big enterprise, he had always been taught to be cautious, to be aware so needless to say the carefree spirit you possess to think it was completely normal to jog down the street to pet a dog without a care in the world isn’t something he was used to. He’d always get worried sick but never angry with you, just sigh in relief the second he spotted your figure hovering over someone’s dog or staring into a cafe to check the menu.
A few minutes of frantically searching, his eyes soften at the familiar back and tousles of messy hair in the distance soaking in the warmth of the sun. Steps slowed down, he carefully approaches, mulling over his opening line with great care because honestly, this could be the happiest day of his life or the day where he loses you all over again. Sitting down onto the next seat, he couldn’t help but fidget with a strange sense of, of something so familiar yet he couldn’t figure out what.  The way your features glow in the light takes his breath away, so much so that the souring taste of acid reflux from being so uncomfortable to think that he needs to brainstorm before talking to you was being wash away completely. Since when did he ever needs a filter to talk to you, the one person that will accept all his words no matter how silly or how philosophically profound they might be. Oh, that’s right, since the day he threw you away like trash but right now, right now he can’t take his eyes off of you even if you’re just wearing the simple hospital gown. As if he had seen an angel, he forgets about the entire world, lost in the familiarity of your features. Smiling like an idiot, the flutters of your eyelashes with each blink mesmerize him into a trance. How cute are the rosy pink cheeks, bitten by the cold. The way you purse your lips entrap him, leaving him wondering what you were thinking about. After spending so long staring at you sleep, he’s overjoy even with just watching you space out.
“I tried to leave, but they said without your permission they can’t give me the release form…”
You speak up so unexpectedly, startles the lovesick boy out of his reverie. Catching himself drooling over you, he clears his throat before humming out a quiet answer.
“hmm, they informed me of your transfer request.”
“They won’t even let me do that… unless I can pay for the fee in full amount. I didn’t think you were this kind of person, Hanbin.” Your voice firm, unwavering yet your mind a mess from forcing yourself to speak so coldly to the man you love, the man that’s having your heart hammering so hard he probably already figured you out by now. Finally facing his way, the aloofness so prominent on your face scares him. He was so ecstatic, delirious with joy that he had forgotten about Hyunwoo’s warning of just how you might react even if you still love him. Needless to say the cold in your voice shocks him to bits.
“Using money to keep me hostage. You know damn well I can’t pay the fee. Why’d you even bring me to this fancy ass place for? just leave me in one of those cheap clinic.” You press on but wary of the surrounding, scare of making a scene of who might be listening in. The last thing you want is for Hanbin’s image to be tarnish because you cause a scene out of fake spite for him.
“Don’t you dare say that. You deserve the best treatment in the world. You have all my asset at your disposal. Wha-Why would you say such a thing.” He blurts out, stuns, incredulous at your ridiculous statement, almost even a bit angry that you’d think he’d abandon you so carelessly. How could you possibly think so poisonously when his intention is purely because he’s care. He had began to reach out for your tear stained rosy cheek when your glare made him understood his touch was no longer welcome. Sadden, he cowers back in his seat and his hand painfully returns to his lap.
“What do you care…” He flinches once again at how flat and cold your voice had become. Where was that sweet like honey voice he loves so much. Where were those fresh, crisp laugh that reminds him of a spring morning. Who is this person so disdainful sitting in front of him, criticizing all his action that he had done out of nothing but pure love. His mind spins so fast Hanbin was getting dizzy from adjusting to this new you that he wasn’t sure he wants to get use to.
“I care a lot. I care because I love you. You’re mi- uhm, you were mine, you were my baby. You’re still my friend. We were friends even before we were together for god’s sake. Why wouldn’t I care?” Addressing you in past tense is something Hanbin never got used to. In fact, he resists with all his might to get used to it. He was still referring to you as his girlfriend even well into the 3rd week of the break up. Every now and then he’d temporary forget, letting himself get lost in this carefree pocket of life and calling out your name only to have it echoed dejectedly around an empty house.
“Love” you scoff at the ridiculous sentiment. “Bit late for that, don’t you think?” Before he could say anything else, the gentle voice of your attending nurse cuts off his torture.
“Miss Y/n, let’s go get your lungs check up.”
With a small smile, you roll your IV pole away, leaving him stammering like an idiot at your pure coldness. Having rushed home so quickly, he barely had anytime to anticipate how you would react. He knew it was wrong to use the hospital authority, to use money to force your hand but he was so scared. Scared that you would leave the second you wake up. Scared that you would scurried back into the night, leaving him lost. After all, Hyunwoo had just told him the night before you were planning on moving away, out of his reach. He knows once you’re out of that apartment, he has no tie to your life, no way of reaching out to you. You’d be lost forever in the universe.
Following the gentle-voiced nurse, you swing your head slightly back at his direction, stealing a few glances of the handsome boy you’ve been dying receive affection from. Indisputably glowing under the soft winter sun even in simple black sweatpants, t-shirt, and the leather jacket that, tho he rarely wears it, used to drive you absolutely bonkers when he did. Elbows resting on his knees, he buries his face deep within the palms, fingertips rubbing gently at his hairline, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain spreading through your chest and it wasn’t because of your illness. You secretly wish you would just stay sick a bit longer, that way you can keep him for yourself just for a bit more. You bit your lips to force the regret of not falling into his arms threatening to vomit out of your heart back in. 
Waiting patiently in the small armchair beside your bed, he couldn’t help but feel his heart clenches at the image of the ring laying carelessly on the night stand. Never once did he sees you without it until that night he so ruthlessly slipped it off your finger despite your protest. In a way, Hanbin knows he deserve all of this but he couldn’t help but pray to all the Gods that you’d be the kind hearted girlfriend he loves. Staring at his own worn out ring on his finger, the thought of the two rings that should be occupy your finger remain ownerless plague his mind like the worst kind of storm. Spinning it around his finger, his mind races against time, steaming to figure out how he could get you to talk to him. The sudden sound of the metal lock shock him out of his own thought, leaving him smiling at your emerging self.
“You’re back!” A bright smile greets you first thing through the door and you could feel your icy heart melting.
“Yea, like I can go anywhere else.” Although feeling like an ass, you needed to do it for yourself. He has someone new, giving into his affection would just mess you up further when he leaves.
“What did the doctor say. How’s your lungs?” anxious vexes on his face, stomach stirring at the thought that you’re unwell then at the though that you were leaving him soon if you’re well.
“Uhm, no fluid so it’s good.” an awkward smile creeps onto your lips and you just feel strange. You were so used to just crashing into his arm coming back from doctor appointment and he’d just welcome you with no question ask. He knew how much you hated doctor, hated hospital and if him just holding you could replace all the discomfort stem from it then hold your for days he will. He’d waste a whole day just snuggling up close to his chest whenever you were sick. Although according to Hanbin, it’s not wasted if it’s something done out of love. You need that so bad right now but it’s as though there’s a big invisible wall in between you both.
“Tha-that’s good! That’s really good, you can leave soon then.”
If you didn’t know any better, you could swear he sounds disappointed? Must be a trick your lonely heart played, how could he be disappointed, after hall he pushed you away and got himself a new woman. 
Although the good news relieves all his pain, all his worries, he couldn’t help but face the reality of what will come next. Once you’re out of the hospital, would you still let him stay by your side? Cater to your needs?
“Yea… I guess” you do know better and your answer is definitely laced with disappointment. As you clamber into bed, he holds your arm, fluff your pillows, set up the TV remote so it was within range of your hold. Shyly, he pulls the cover over your body, helping you lay down. Each touch of his fingertips sear into your heart. You could feel it beating again with the force of a volcano ready to explode. Privately in  your heart, you let your soul basks in the warmth that shames even the sun’s playful rays emanating from the caring man. You could see the bite on his lower lip, the way he leans up just a smidgen aiming for your forehead but that kiss never came. Instead, He retreats back to his favorite couch pulling out stacks of paper and once again, your hospital room turns into his office.
Eyes on the TV screen, you couldn’t help but peek over every other minute to look at the gorgeous face under the pair of tortoise colored glasses. You had always have a thing for Hanbin and glasses, always wondering what kind of student he was in college, whether he would’ve give you any of his time. Now and then, you would catch him peeking over, using whatever documents he’s holding to appear as inconspicuous as possible, smiling softly at your resting form and giggle at the thought that he thinks he’s slick. Every so often, you would have a cough attack and immediately, Hanbin would be right by your side, offering water, rubbing circle on your back while his wincing face tells you he much he wishes to replace your spot in the hospital bed. If you’re being really honest, you’re drinking up all his attention like a crack on the desert floor after a big rain storm. You couldn’t help but fake cough just to get him close without giving into his attentiveness that’s no doubt chipping at your heart.
By the day end, he had forgotten that it was awkward for him to touch you, to pet your head occasionally while pacing the floor on his phone, taking care of company’s business. Embolden  by your lack of refusal, he even slips his index under your chin grazing it affectionately as he used to whenever he thinks that you did something cute. Before you could react, he had already sauntered away, rambling about one thing or another to the person over the phone. Truthfully, you couldn’t be loving the small contacts any more than now knowing maybe after this hospital stay is over so will his affection.
For most part he left you alone, fearing any action, even meaningless one would push you away. He already feels so blessed to be able to work in the same room with you without being smite by your spiteful words, to just being able to watch you from afar. He should be used to this as he had watched you for so long before he got to call you his girlfriend but in reality, it’s so hard now that he had a taste of what life really is like being your everything.
Time seems to past painstakingly slow when the only person able to distract you from the cough and the boredom on staring at the same four walls is the same person your pride won’t allow you to be friend with. Staring at your dashing roommate, you wish things were the way it was. Instead of distancing himself on the lonely couch, he’d be tuck into bed right by your side. He’d shower you with kisses the second your eyes open, petting your hair, holding your hands. Instead, all you get now is a few glances he’d steal whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention. Being Hanbin’s girlfriend was easy. He’s attentive when it comes to catering to whatever your desire be. If you wanted hug, he could be working on super important document and still let you cling onto his back. Now, even though your body uneasy, feeling like there’s electricity running through every vein, itching for his touch, you can’t even ask for it. You wish he’d just go to sleep but knowing him, sleep time would be closer to sunrise than sunset. Sighing loudly, you return your gaze to the mindless show on TV.  
Luck seems to be on your side tonight as not even 5 minutes past midnight, Hanbin weary self had slumped over on the couch, snoring away softly. Waiting another half hour to be safe, you softly creep off your bed and silently make your way to him. The way his eyes twitches, lips slightly part, arm drapes across his forehead, hand holding onto his glasses precariously, everything about him was still so perfect. Allowing yourself to get lost in the past, your fingers reach out hesitantly to trace his nose ridge down to his jawline. You lost count of how many times he’d get so hyped up to watch a movie but always ended up slumbering through most of it out of sheer exhaustion from work with his head on your lap. You’d always just watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest while letting your fingers tangled in his soft locks. He loved the small little shivers you sent through his body from just something as simple as petting his hair.
Moving further down, your hand rest easy flat upon his chest, soaking in his beating heart. A small tear trail down your cheek as you timidly press a small kiss onto his stilled lips, wishing he’d wake up and kiss you back. You carefully peel his fingers away from his glasses and the stack of paper still tightly clung, settling them down onto the desk. Pulling a spare blanket from the closet, you encase his body into the soft material before allowing yourself to steal another kiss, on his forehead this time. A soft moan tear you away from your day dream, sending your body scurrying back to the large bed to avoid confrontation in case he wakes up.
The loud clank of the remote hitting the floor shocks Hanbin out of his work trance. Glancing up, he chuckles at your attempt to fish the remote without getting out of bed. Currently draping yourself, half hanging off the bed, you sigh out a frustrated “ayyye” before your prince once again, abandon work just to entertain your little needs.
“Hmm… sorry…” You whisper timidly, finger quick to push a messy strand of hair behind your ear to peek at your loving prince. You were blushing so intensely when he flashes his dimple that you wonder if he had just figured out you’re only putting on a tough front with him. Judging from the way his hand purposely brushing against yours while placing the remote back in your hand, you would say that option weren’t too far-fetch. God, the way his smile lingers a bit too long on his lips reduces you to a melting puddle of mess. You’d be giggling like a school girl too if it had not been for the battle against yourself to put up a tough exterior, a battle that you can feel you’re slowly losing grip on.
“Was I too loud? I’ll move all my work stuff back to my office tomorrow morning. I know you need rest, it’s getting pretty late too.”
You sit silently for a minute, staring at those loving brown eyes. You wish for nothing more but for him to stay close by but that would be too selfish. He has someone new and you were just pulling him back into some confuse crazy whirlwind. Why couldn’t you just be strong, yell at him or get angry. That way he could just walk away without feeling guilty. Sensing that everything is less than okay, Hanbin backs away slowly, retreating to his couch before cleaning everything up in a flurry. His heart aches. He had thought you were finally begin to seek comfort with him once again but looks like he gave himself false hope. Sniffling quietly, he chuckles out of the amusement of how easily he thought you’d let him back into your life. After the stunt he had pulled, did he really expect for you to welcome him back with open arms? He questions himself, nearing the brink of tear but he silences himself. Little did he knows, all his movement scrutinize to the extreme with a fine toothed comb by your eyes.
If he had moved on, why does it looks like he’s less than thrill to leave?
Lord knows what comes over you the next second but whatever it was, it lifts Hanbin’s hope greatly.
“Stay…” You speak up softly, biting your lips, mulling over whether this really was the right thing to do. “…If you want. It does get lonely here by myself.”
“You sure?” He asks and immediately regretting giving you an option to back out of the offer.
“Yea. Stay! It’s kinda too quiet in the morning when you leave for work… I could use the company.” You speak again, more confident this time as he moves closer to your side. A soft smile plays across his lips before he did something so unexpected it hurts even more than your aching lungs. He kisses you and you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the act of love you’ve craved for so long. You had always loved being kiss by Hanbin. He leans into it so delicately it almost felt unreal. Your quivering lips stay still, mulling over the taste of his lips, horrify at how foreign everything feels. Fear runs deep through your spine, how could his kiss feels so strangely distant already after only a mere few months. By no mean it was foreign because of the taste, or how they feel moulding against yours. It wasn’t the fact that he’s so awkwardly stilled instead of grabbing at any part of your body he could nor was he deepening the kiss as he should. It was the fact that the kiss wasn’t the same happy ones you two shared countless times through out your wonderful time together, the one you’d ask for without any reason and he’d give you without questioning. A shiver shoots through every cell of your body at the thought of how far away he’d be after a year. 
Although brave enough to finally take his chance, he could barely move fearing you’d refuse him at the slightest movement. He stands there with his arms awkwardly hang loose on his sides, back aching from the strange angle he had found himself bending over to be close to you yet he’d die before he breaks contact with your lips, his drug. Unexpectedly, your lips part way allowing his wavering nerve to push his lower lips in between your cracked ones, a soft satisfying moan fills the room. If he has to tally up all his luck, he’d say today would be the luckiest day of his life as your hand reluctantly reaches out to grasp onto his shirt, balling it up in your closed fist. Taking his chance, he edges himself onto your bed, newfound conviction coursing through his veins. You let your hand wanders onto his chest, caressing the body you had missed terribly to hold for the last few months. Even with his tongue plunging deep within your mouth now, his hands still unsure of where they’d be allow so he decided to simply rest it on your thighs. Sensing his hesitation, you trail your fingers up across his collar bones, wrapping firmly at the nape of his neck before pushing deep into his hair gratifying all his senses just the way he had been missing. 
“Hanbin…”
You whisper so quietly that he was scared he heard you wrong but all his doubt thrown out the window the moment he feels your chest pressing closer to his, desperate to deepen the connection. Breaking away for a second just to get a good look at the face of his love, he grins satisfyingly at your blown out pupils and how your face looks so blissful it almost resembles the mess he used to left you after a long session of love making. He basks in the pride of still being able to captivate you with just his lips even after all this time. His hands rest easy on your hips, pulling you squarely onto his lap without much resistant.
“Hmm, baby… I miss you.”
He sighs onto your lips, taking his chance before you snap out of whatever high you’re on that let him kiss you in the first place. Humming in reply, you have your arms around his torso now, tighten behind his back as he cups your cheeks with both hands. He pulls you closer, as if that was even possible at this point and you acquiesce in his action, nudging your body against his. You could feel all the tension in your heartstrings loosen. One hand slowly trailing along the curve of your spine, Hanbin somehow manages to raise all your hair on its ends as he twist and turn, attempting to exploit every bit of your vulnerability. He knows it’s wrong to take advantage of your confused heart but he couldn’t care. He was far too desperate to stop and your lack of refusal only embolden his venture.
“I miss you too…” 
Once again you were Hanbin’s girl. You feel his love permeates from his heart through the kiss and you only see him. You were ready to let go, to let him have his way with you, to be love one more time.
Just when everything begins to feel right, the ugly thought of the angel liked girl giggling her way into your brain forcing your eyes open. He was still deep, lost within your kiss with his eyes shut tightly, a few tears dotting his long lashes. You push him off with all your might, sending yourself tumbling backward on to the bed. He sits there in shock, in pain, mouth gapes wide open for anyone to see before he could even realize what was happening, his hands already reaching out to encase you in his embrace once more. To his dismay, you reject it with all your strength. He couldn’t believe it. His happiness is being rip away once again and he can’t do anything to stop it. It was inevitable, he knows that much but he wishes it wasn’t so soon.
“No. No. How could you?” You exasperate, tears welling up.
“Baby… Please don’t be like this. I know I messed up” His trepidation grows at your painful expression. Had he gone too far? His heart felt like it was the right thing to do. You kissed him back but what went wrong? His hands reach out for you but painfully you flinch backward instead.
“Messed up?” You groan with disgust.  “Hanbin you dumped me, in case you forgot. There’s nothing between us anymore. I really think you should stop calling me that… wouldn’t your girl mind? If she doesn’t then I’m pretty sure she would mind that kiss. Goddamn it, Hanbin, I don’t want to be the bad guy here.” You whine. The thought of hurting another person like an arrow through your heart. How would she feels if she had found out he spent the last three days camped in his ex’s hospital room. The pain she’ll go through would be unbearable when she finds out you made out with her man. Her man. Even thinking about that hurts.
“Babe… please don’t think about me like that. I’m loyal to only you, that girl you saw, she’s just a friend. We’ve been friend for awhile and she was visiting from Europe. I haven’t seen her since before we got together. We were just on our way to dinner and, and I didn’t want her to see me so miserable so I pretended. I’ve read your letter. You misunderstood, baby. Please.”
“The way you held her…” You croak painfully, shutting your eyes so forcefully tears spilling over from the thought of his arm around her shoulder warmed from his jacket.
“Is nothing compare to the way I used to hold you, still want to hold you. Baby, out of everyone you should know that the best.”
Frustrated at the thought that you would think he’d betray you in such way so shortly after the breakup, he walks off toward the window, stopping short of just jumping out of it to hide away. Discontent taut on his forehead as his brows furrow. He just couldn’t believe you’d think of him in such a light. Sure he expects you to hate him, to slap or kick him in the nuts but to accuse him of being unfaithful is something that he can’t accept.
Full of regret, you hide away in the safety of your blanket. You were careless. So careless that you hadn’t even consider the possibility he has his own version of Hyunwoo. Not once did he gets angry with you for spending time with your ex yet here you laid, accusing the man that had given you everything, getting jealous that he was happy without you. 
Even though it hurts, he knows ultimately this was all his doing. He has no right to be mad, to be annoyed at your discord with his action but he can’t help it. To him, you were never truly gone. At the same time he understands as he not even a week ago picked a fight with your gentle bear best friend out of frustration, of misunderstanding, but also very much out of jealousy. 
“Baby… look at me, please. I love you, so so much. I know I don’t deserve you after the way I shunned you off. You have every right to be mad at me, hate me. But please, don’t think I would ever betray your love. What about that kiss that one night…Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“What? I- But you were sleeping. You can’t- No how is it possible?”
“I learned to be alert even in my sleep after the first night spending here watching you. I had to be aware, to be here when you wake up so i changed my sleep habit I guess. The thought of you waking up in confusion laying in a strange room, a hospital room at that… I couldn’t let that happen.”
His heart aches at your shivering form under the blanket. The way your body curls up so small as if you wish you could just disappear from the room.
“It doesn’t matter, Hanbin. We’ve broken up… you’re free…free to do whatever you please, whoever you please. Don’t think you need to explain yourself to me.”
“No, we… we. I don’t want us to end. I never wanted us to end. God what I would give to take all your pain away.”
“But you can’t. We all have things we want but life doesn’t work that way. You’re finally happy again, take it, hold it close and don’t let go.” your words feeble through your tear and the weakness of your own heart.
“Happy? You think I’m happy without you? God, baby. I’m miserable. I’m insufferable to everyone around me. The happiest thing that happened to me the past two months was seeing you wait so patiently for me everyday like the good girl you are even when you know I won’t talk to you. Do you even know what that does to me? I’ve watch and re-watched the security footage of you sitting at that bench so many time i’ve lost track. When you’re not there, i’d go and sit where you would sit, imagining your body, soaking in your present. I wanted to die without you.” He vexes hoping to convey how painful it was to watch you but couldn’t touch you, knowing that you were waiting but he can’t relent to his temptation of meeting you.
You sit up with such force you could feel the whiplash liked creak in your neck. Blanket flings off in a flurry of anger, you roughly shove your hand through your hair, nearly ripping off every strand.
“Then why the fuck did you left me huh? Out of all those days, all you had to do was smile at me but GOD. The first time I saw you smile in months, it wasn’t for me, it wasn’t because of me. It was her. All you had to do was hug me, Hanbin and I would’ve given you everything. But instead you left me there, in the cold.” Your words choke in your throat as if warning you to stop before it’s too late, before they leaves you wallow in regret from pushing the love of your life too far. “ Why am I even here, huh? All those days I was crying on my own, all I wanted was a simple hug, something to acknowledge my presence but I couldn’t even get that. You know how ridiculous that feel, Hanbin? Here’s a guy that claimed he loves me with all his life, with all his might but I was shivering in the cold on my own, he couldn’t so much as spare me a glance but oh no, it’s wrong for me to assume he had moved on.” You huff in exhaustion, damn all the coughing, damn this illness, damn it all as you clutch your chest from the short heaves of your lungs that barely provide enough oxygen. “ What? You think because you sent a replacement that you’re instantly clear of all charges? How dare you, Kim Hanbin. Playing God with my life like I’m some rag doll for you to mess with. Son Hyunwoo is someone precious to me. How dare you roped him into this sick game of yours. Shoving him my way like some secondhand incentive. He is not a thing for you to mess with. He’s dear to my heart no matter how my relationship had ended with him. I thought you were brave but no. You’re just a damn coward that uses everyone. You were sick of me so you throw me aside, claiming Hyunwoo still loves me. That you, sir, somehow knows my heart better than myself. I did get confuse for a bit… Maybe there’s some truth to your words. Maybe you do know me so I doubted myself. Disgustingly felt sorry that I put you through such a tough situation.  How dare you mess with someone’s heart like that. I hate you, Hanbin.”
Your rage boils superficially like a volcano, threatening to explode any second. You no longer care how much tear or snot stream out of your face as your glare at him with the utmost poisonous of eyes. Horror shields those loving eyes of his away from you as he bit his lips shut. He blames himself every second of every day for putting you in that hospital bed. No word could describe the staggering heartbreak he felt seeing you so lifeless, silent amongst the beeping of the machines. He couldn’t believe his ears, his brain can’t for the life of it register the word “hate” coming out of your mouth with such force. Sure you had jokingly said it before but now, now you really do mean it.
“Love me…” You scoff, a mirthless grin flashes on your face and honestly it scares Hanbin. Never once did he knows of such an dark, almost evil look to take root in your features. No, to him you’re not capable of doing any harm, of being mean. This, this has to be the result of the mess he started. It pains him to see bitterness oozes from your every pore knowing it’s all because of him. From the moment he had laid eyes on you, he wishes for nothing more but to protect the sunshine and innocent you possess that’s so different from the rest of his cold and calculated world. Alas, he had lost that battle. “You know, when the light inside a lighthouse break, the keeper would change the lightbulb, tweaks the setting, not replacing the light house. You… You damn went and destroy the whole thing. This, this so called light house, beacon of ‘love’ that you said I had built for you brick by brick. Gone. And you! You’re the one that torn it all down.”
He knew this would happen but no preparation in this world could be enough for this moment. You rip all his breaths, all his words, all his thought away with that agonizing tinge contorting your face into a frown. You were looking at him now, just like he wanted but that heartbreaking sight of your tear make him feels like a helpless little boy standing on the shore being crush by the unimaginable force of an oncoming wave. Clutching his chest, once again like a coward, he runs away in tear leaving you stunned with the loud slam of the door.
“Shit, what did I do.” You sat there helpless watching his back turning away, leaving you to fend for yourself once again. You’ve done it. You’ve finally push him out of your life permanently.
Muttering a soft “No”, you want nothing more but for him to come back, to kiss you again. Like a fool, you lost your chance just because you’re an angry bitter person. Why couldn’t you just hold off on being selfish for one second and just say you love him. Reality come crashing down as the rhythmic beeps of the machine returns with dead air as its companion and the dust of fury had settled. You shed tears now not of frustration but of self pity. You had the best man in the world pinning after you but what did you do? You push him away. Uncontrollable sob and screams pulsate from your lungs and you couldn’t care less who hear. It’s none of their business anyhow.
“It’s okay, Y/n… it’s okay.”
A good minute past before you could register the heat leaking into your pale cold skin and the soft, gentle voice lulling you back down from your high. Your eyes flutter open to find your head resting on Hyunwoo’s strong shoulder as his fingers softly comb through your hair.
“It’s okay, babe. You got it out. You got your anger out. Let it go, don’t hold it back.”
“I messed up, Hyunwoo. H-He…fuck. Hanbin’s not coming back… He told me she was just someone he trusts and I still accused him of moving on. He has every right to move on, Hyunwoo. I…” You yank vexingly at the endless wires and the loose collar of your hospital shirt that suddenly feel all too constricting. “I gotta go find him…” Hyunwoo tighten his hold on your shivering body, soaking away the frustration that’s wrecking your every fibre. It’s useless to even fight the grasp of your gentle bear as he soothes away all your aching with every pass of his hand over your back.
“He will. Trust me. He will but you gotta meet him halfway, babe. You can’t push him away like that. I know he messed up but get over your pride. You want him back. He loves you unconditionally, he won’t look down on you or laugh at you. Just show him you need him. The boy is ready to give you the whole galaxy if you ask for it. The least you could do is give him a chance. If not for him, for yourself. Like you said, you deserve to be happy.”
“I wanted to…” Your eyes falter to the spot he once sat so patiently typing away on his laptop. You heart aches for the sight of him taking a peek at you with a soft smile on his face. He had always looked at you like you’re the only girl in the world but in your tormented twisted mind, you couldn’t see that… Why couldn’t you just see that.
“Look, I’m not taking his side. I’d beat the shit out of him if I could but I know that only hurts you so I’ll just be honest. You think the last two months had been hard on you and I agree. No one should ever feel this pain but let me tell you the side you don’t know. He’s hurting a lot more than you think he is. When we broke up, you had Hanbin constantly catering to your needs…” The slight pause in his comforting tone has your heart twisting up in guilt. For the first time since having your life line reconnected, you really look at Hyunwoo as you did all those years ago. The pain of first love still linger beneath the calm facade and that sad smile of his. Those kind eyes were still the same but perhaps a bit more worn. Those lips, that smile, everything were still so familiar yet so different. You’ve been so selfish with playing the victim that you really had forgotten the other half of this world of pain. You had forgotten to listen. “I was alone, dealing with losing you all on my own and let me tell you this, hurt isn’t even just a word anymore. It’s my being, my breath, my mind, everything hurt. It felt so bad that I was in constant shock over what had happened and honestly, I can’t tell you how many time I got close to dropping everything and running back to you. It’s unfathomable, Y/n, the kind of pain that I felt, Hanbin still feeling, knowing we did this to you. I couldn’t eat, sleep. I secluded myself. Every time I was beginning to feel happy again, guilt, guilt just override everything. The moment I found someone else, I couldn’t help but just think of how miserable you must be. Do you know what kind of relief I got when I saw you clutching onto Hanbin’s arm when I ran into you two on your 2nd anniversary? It’s like torrential downpour on my cracked dry, drought heart. Like the biggest weight got lifted off my chest and I could breathe again knowing you were happy with someone else. For once in my life I could be happy without feeling guilty.”
“I’m sorry…” The one thing that you will never forgive yourself was that you let Hyunwoo dealt with the heartache all on his own. Nights after nights you’d laid awake in bed, imagining what kind of horrifying pain he must’ve felt being in a foreign country all alone dealing with a break up but at the end of the day, you still fell asleep in the warm safe embrace of Hanbin. Hyunwoo on the other hand… You couldn’t even worked up enough courage for an apology. 
“No, it’s not your fault. We both decided on parting way and we both felt the pain of it. Sometimes, nobody is at fault…. Life is just cruel. All I’m saying is, be that relief for Hanbin. He’s all alone in that cold office. He’s a lonely man, Y/n. You were always that salvation to his “sad, pathetic life”. His words, not mine.”
“What?” You raise your eyebrows, wincing a bit at the sound of “sad” and “pathetic”. Why would Hanbin says such preposterous thing?
“We ran into each other in Japan and he spent all night just doting over your little quirks. His eyes light up anytime I mentioned your little habits and he’d exclaimed excitingly that you still do those things. There’s a lot of thing he knows about you that you don’t even realize. I know you already know this but the guy, he had been beaten up by this dog eat dog world enough. Let him be happy. He will never be happy again knowing you’re still hurting. If you don’t love him anymore, let him know so he can moves on. But I know you do. He’s your true love, Y/n. I admire the kind of love you two share. Let yourself breathe, babe. Just go. Go and be happy with him.”
With the last words of his well wishing, Hyunwoo gently lift you away from his shoulder and press a soft kiss to your forehead. He was grateful because you brought him happiness, even more now that you had brought him and Ella together even with your own loneliness looming like a big storm. All that needed for his world to be perfect now would be for you to be happy.
“You know what’s funny? He used to say the same thing about our love. He said we inspired him.”
Hyunwoo and you both chuckle at the strange thought that somehow your love inspired Hanbin to pursue you the way he did. Somehow out of all the fuckery life threw at you both, Love grew from the sadness of a broken first love. You sat there in Hyunwoo’s arms for God know how long musing over the strange way life played out, how at one point you were all strangers but now… Now you, Hanbin, Hyunwoo, and Ella all found solace in being an irreplaceable part in each other’s lives.
He wasn’t happy coming back to his company in a chaotic mess but it wasn’t anything Hanbin couldn’t handle. A part of him was thankful for the dire need for overtime as his weary heart can’t take much more emotional trauma. If there’s one thing he learned about this cruel business world is that it’s as cold as a polar bear’s toe is that there would be no need for him to “feel” when dealing with these pesky business ventures.
A pat on the back and a supportive squeeze on the shoulder from his dad signaling the crazy 36 hours overhaul had come to and end. Hanbin sinks down into the large leather chair finding himself wondering what you were doing at this moment, if you were eating well. The small clock on his wall ticks 11:30 PM as he hails a small breath of relief. He had gone straight into the company the second he left your hospital room and hadn’t left since. He barely ate, only shower out of the necessity of looking presentable to the other CEOs. The last two days were just a big blur of stumbling in and out of conference rooms. His eyes grew tired of the same beige wall and set of circular desk and chairs. He misses the calming pastel blue wall of your hospital room. It reminded him of the beach and he wonders if you knew, would you laugh at him for thinking such a weird thought. The slight hum of your bedside humidifier reminds him of the wave crashing the shore. Most of all, he knows just on that bed not too far away from his soft couch laid the brightest sun in his galaxy. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at the way your face so shyly sneaking a peek when you think he was too enthralled in his paperwork to notice. He was only partial to the idea of pushing the kiss onto you until he caught your silent school girl giggle one time when he had fumbled a donut onto his documents, twice, cussing at the round chocolate ring obstructing some very crucial numbers. Underneath the brooding tough girl in front of him was still the adorable little Y/n he loves.
It was only now that he realizes the lack of his personal phone as he reaches into his empty pocket to get a glimpse of your picture he still has as his lockscreen background. He had snuck it during an afternoon stroll by the river. Too busy fumbling around with change to pay the street vendor for some shaved ice, he failed to notice you had once again left his side and ran off to a cute herd of puppies. Dessert in hand, he turned around to only met with the empty spot you had excitedly hopping in when he said he’d get you food. He knew better by this point to really worry, instead, eyes searching for what could distract you away from him. When the sight of you squatting in front of three dogs, laughing away without a care caught his eyes, he couldn’t help but captured the way your bright smile seemed to put everything else to shame. 
Rushing down to his car, he feels his lungs constricting from the raging adrenaline, the pure needs of seeing your face. Hastily pressing in the passcode, his heart elates to see 4 messages from a number he knows all too well despite having deleted it from his contact.
[3:51 AM] Can we talk?
[3:55 AM] I know you must be sleeping. Sorry… I’m getting discharge soon.
[9:00 AM] It’s okay if you don’t want to. I know the last time we spoke, I wasn’t exactly civil… I just wanted to say a proper goodbye… It’s been over a day since you left and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to see me again. I just want to thank you again, for the best few years and for always being there when I needed most. I realized all I’ve done thus far is yell at you but never once thanked you for rescuing me. God know where I’d be now had it not been for you that day, so thank you. 
[6:25 PM] I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. Goodbye, love. I wish you the best. I love you, always.
“Fuck” was all he could mutters before tearing out of the parking lot leaving a trail of scorched tire marks on the ground and the unpleasant scent of burnt rubber swirling around the empty lot. Racing down the silent hall, he earned a few ire shush from the nurses but his heart couldn’t be bother. With a scream of your name, he slams the door open only to be meet with compete silent. Eyes tracing every details of the immaculate room, a flutter of the wings of fear settles in his chest. He’s too late. The empty hospital bed neatly made and the mess of a duffle bag you had next to the night stand, gone. The only remnant of you left is the gold glint of the old worn out promises sitting lonely on the night stand.
His weight drops onto the floor as if his life and soul vacated, leaving their meat suit to fend for itself. Stammering “I’m sorry” repeatedly, tears flood the frail face. For the first time since he broke your heart, you truly see how far gone his heart had been. It was easy for you to blame the cold image of the guy that had ordered for your removal from his office but seeing Hanbin now, your Hanbin… You wish for nothing but take all his pain away.
He had torn your heart but at the same time, with his own hand, he pulverized his own. In his bruised chest, a void in place of what used to be a heart. He had done his work now it’s your turn. The sight of him so broken kills you. Softly tip toeing into the room shutting the door gently, small pitter patter make their way to the boy lost in his own black hole. You sit next to him but his eyes, dead, staring into space as if you’re merely a spirit. In that moment, aside from the heavy down pour from his eyes, the rest of him seems to be stuck inside a frozen pocket in time and space.
Suddenly, a sensation so wonderful, so warm radiates from his back. It stays in one spot at first but then glide all over his back, bringing the life back to the cold pale skin. It didn’t stop there. Like a ballerina, it twirls its way upon his shivering shoulders then to the barren face, it was only then he had realized, the girl he loves was trying to save him. You were there with those concern eyes and the small frown he had always thought was so adorable. Your hands upon his body, smoothing and soothing over every crack, every site that had been pricking like needle.
“Shh, Hanbin. Don’t cry, I’m here.”
You speak up so gently you weren’t sure if he had heard right. He had heard but wasn’t sure if this is just another one of the hallucination his mind made up to attempt at healing its host. You’re sitting so close to him, whispering comforting words. Like a person coming out of a coma, his eyes slowly flicker, following the movement of the hand that was now rubbing gently on his chest to ease his ragged breathing.
“I’m here, Hanbin. Don’t cry. Everything will be okay.”
You said it again, he couldn’t believe it. A reluctant hand meet the pink skin of your cheek, caging it while his thumb runs along the pair of lips he had dreamt of so many nights. A smile blooms at the contact of his finger onto your skin and he sighs with relief.
“It really is you… I’m not dreaming, am I?”
“You’re not, babe. I’m here. They needed to clean my room so I went outside to relax. Don’t worry, I’m here, baby.”
Desperately, his arms pull you into his body, nearly topple both of you onto the hard floor but he didn’t care. If he let go now, you would melt away with the wind. Or perhaps much worse, you would go back to the cold, and bitterness of hate, pushing him away. He has to hold you close, to never let go, just like you said he needs to. He had found his happiness once again and hell freezes over before he’d let you go again.
“Please don’t leave me, Y/n. I can’t live without you. I don’t care if I’m being selfish, I don’t care. I need you so bad. Please… I know I hurt you. I know because I was hurting too. I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes, my mind just takes me back to that night. Watching you cry, hearing you call my name, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I can’t eat because, fuck, how could I eat when I know you’re starving yourself from crying for a useless fool like me. God, I thought I was too late. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t see your text an- and, your lugga- your luggages are gone. Whe- I’m not too late am I? I know you’re angry and everything I’ve done so far is unfair to you, to Hyunwoo. I just, I thought I was… I’m so stupid, baby. You have every right to hate me. It might seems like I can’t make up my mind, pushing you away then asking for another chance, like I’m hurting you on purpose but that’s not what I want to do. I’d much rather spent the last few months cuddle up to you admiring the ring on your beautiful hand than walk through hell. I thought I was letting you have the happiness you deserve. I’m so sorry. I regret everything I said.” He cried out with all the desperation in the world, all the heartbreak every soul on this planet had ever felt, he let it all out. 
“Shh, baby it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, Hanbin. I’m right here. I put my bags away so they could clean the room. I’m not leaving yet. We have plenty of time to talk things out, okay? I’m not angry.” You tried your best to stay strong for him but the wavering of your voice threaten to burst through. You want to cry. Cry because guilt cuts deeper than anything else could. Cry because he was here in your arms once again. Cry because he was begging for you to stay. Cry because you know you will stay.
“Please, Y/n. Please, baby. If I ask you to not to leave me, will you stay? If, if you stay, will you love me again? I just need one chance, just one, I can prove to you…” His thumbs rubbing the tear away from your cold cheeks, eyes latching onto any bit of emotion you were showing through. For once in months you weren’t angry… You were just, well you.
“My idiot Hanbin, I’ve never stop loving you.”
None of your word could relent the neediness of his hands, of his eyes, of his love. Like a child lost in the raging current of life, he clings onto your body like the salvation of a lifeline, the last bit of hope before he drowns in the harshness of it all. Understood, you sit still, head snuggles into the crook of his neck, letting him get high off of you. Arms tighten around his waist, you press a small kiss onto the slender neck, taking in his warmth as he does yours. His hand tangles in your hair, your fingers, your shoulders, your back, everywhere. Your craving of him rattles in its cage like a starving monster with him being so impossibly close that you could hear his heart beat. But right now, you need to put him first, let him have his moment. 
A small terrifying gasp left his lungs as you pull away, putting space in between the two hungry bodies.
“No, no, no. Baby, don’t leave. I need more. I need you…”
Fearful that the drought of his heart will no longer be grace with your rain, panic envelops his body. You remain close, sitting still in between his legs. One hand moving onto the dull skin of his cheek, you crack a small smile that eases his weary mind. His begging stop the instant your lips touch his in the most delicate manner, pressing colors of love back into his monotone soul.
“I love you, Hanbin.”
You murmurs against his lips with the best smile you could muster up and immediately feel his lips curl up in reciprocation.
“I love you so much, Hanbin.”
You repeat when the wetness drench your skin in the torrential downpour of his eyes. It was as if every prayer, every hunger, every thirst his body went through the last two months answered all at once, overwhelming every senses in his body. His face numb with your drug. All he could do was clutching onto the loose fabric of your hospital shirt while letting your lips work his into oblivion. You work gently and carefully, wary of the splitting cracks of his lips that must be stinging like thousands pricks of thorn. Soon enough, neither of you could be satisfy by the lightness of a few pecks. As if he read your mind, his lips part slightly, welcoming your own pressuring for a deeper kiss. Your soul relishes in familiar plush of his lips, the dominance of his tongue, the sweetness that he is. 
“Please, be mine again.” You murmur against his lips, giving you both a chance to catch up to reality.
Your words so small and simple but it restores his heart, mends his soul. Finally reeling in the reality of it all, he breaks away from your touch.
“Always. I’m always yours baby. Y/n is mine. Forever. I’d love that.”
Echoing the words you had said to him two years and six months ago when he first tie your life to his, he lets out a joyous sob. Mirroring his emotion, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, cheek rubbing onto his,  thankful for a second chance at love. No word could describe the feeling your soft touches are giving him at the moment. It simply feels like he’s among the clouds of his best dreams. Like any dream, reality rears its ugly head and this time it comes in form of a string of heavy cough shaking your body. The settling cold of night has once again gotten the better of your still recovering body. Hunching over in a fit of cough, you smile through it all. For once in all the days laying in this cold room, you know once again you can confidently grab onto Hanbin for support.
Holding your body close, he carries you off easily with your arms still clinging around his neck. Gently settling your tired body onto the unnecessary large bed, Hanbin made sure you drink enough water before pulling the cover over your body. Shuffling around awkwardly beside your bed, he suddenly overcomes with a sense of uncertainty. Even though his body still feeling like it’s on the best high, guilt begins to course through his every vein. He had been so overwhelm with emotion that his overloaded brain forgotten about the betrayal he had put you through. Now regaining his consciousness, he couldn’t help be be hesitant, scare of how to bring the past up without pushing you spiraling back into hatred. His dubiousness not missed by your eagle eyes. Although adorable, you couldn’t help but be a bit sad from the distance between your body and his. For as long as you could remember, he never had a filter for skin-ship. All his best friends complain just how clingy he is when it’s come to being touchy, how thankful they were you came along to take some weight off their shoulders. Totally opposite of his work demeanor - cold and calculated, around you he was as affectionate as they come - hands constantly feeling the need to be in contact with your body even if it’s just resting gently on your shoulder.
“Uhm… Can-May I?” Finally catching onto your scrutinizing eyes, he stammers in embarrassment, unsure of what to do with himself.
“What kind of question is that? If you insist on being a stranger with me then just leave. I really don’t need doubts and distance right now.”
Whispering a small sorry, he finally picks a spot nearby your feet, hands softly resting on your legs.
“You’re such an idiot, Hanbin.” Sighing in defeat at his cluelessness, you peel the corner of the large grey blanket away, patting the spot next to you softly before motioning for him to come over with two fingers. Swiftly kicking off his shoes, he carefully settles under the cover right next to your body. Instinctively, you immediately snuggle up close under his arm, head resting gently against his beating heart. Without missing a beat, his arms assume their favorite position around your body just as they always had.
“What I need right now is my boyfriend. My caring, loving, affectionate Hanbin. The guy that abandoned work to bring me soup when I came down with the flu. The guy that screamed he’s not mushy or lovey dovey but then clung onto me for a whole day like a crybaby after I came back from a long trip. The guy that willing to give up sleep to drive for hours just so I can see the beach. The guy that makes me smile just by blinking his beautiful eyes, melts my heart with a touch of his finger. I can’t stand you being so distant, so detached from me. I need my Hanbin back. I want my Hanbin… I deserve to get you back. I’ve been through enough… Don’t you think?”
Your voice trails off as sob takes hold. The flashes of his standoffish expression, cold manner replay in your mind like the worst nightmare that won’t go away. Even now with your body safe in his embrace, you still fear this is all just life cruel trick. Lifting you high before throwing your body crashing down once again. Without warning, his fingers nimbly secure your chin in their grasp, lifting your head up to meet his gaze. Your painful teary eyes transform into gleeful ones instantly when those soft lips crash messily onto yours, moulding itself against the curve of your own.
“I don’t fucking deserve you, not one bit. I must’ve been a saint in my past life because hell, I haven’t done anything in this life to deserve your love.” He murmurs against your lips before another round of thrashing of lips begin. His hands rough yet gentle at the same time, conveying the neediness you crave. His full attention focuses on making you feel at home, on taking all your worries away. He needs you to know he’s never going anywhere, ever again. You have him for as long as you want, this life and all the lives after that.
“But I will stay for as long as you need. I’ll be your servant if it means I get to worship at your feet every minutes of the rest of my pathetic life. I love you so much, baby. Whatever you want babe. I’ll give you everything if it means you’ll take my worthless self, let me back into your life.”
The intensity of his loving gaze set you ablaze with joy. The way he’s drinking in every bit of your features, longing for your touch even though he’s already holding you so close, lips merely centimeters away from yours.
“I love you, Hanbin. You don’t need to do anything, just staying by my side and loving me is enough.”
Finally parting touch out of bare necessity for air, his eyes glisten with newfound strength. Hands still tangles in the knots and strands of your hair, he whispers “thank you” incessantly before laying back down. Minutes then an hour past without much being said. Simple sound of kisses smacking and content sighs replace words that need not be say to be understood.
“Is this why you chose this hospital… because the bed is big? So you can crawl into bed with me when i’m out cold.” A devilish smirk on your tired lips, deciding you miss his soothing buttery voice. As much comfort as this blissful silent brought, you’d much rather listen to his incessant babble after so long of watching from the distant.
“What kind of person do you think I am, baby? I’m not that desperate.” He scoffs, although the arms tightening their hold around your shoulder said otherwise.
He places a kiss on your forehead, lips smirking victoriously at the sight of your small body flushing against his, letting him pet you however he likes. An air of easiness floods his lungs at the sound of your small giggle. It was something he took for granted. Having heard nothing but screams and cries the past few months, it was now a sound he vows to hear at least once a day. The best part of it all, it was him that caused that lovely sound.
“I’m pretty sure you are.” you insist, hand wanders from his toned chest to the tight abs. You’ve missed this. Cuddling was something you both love, perhaps even more than making love. The intimacy of knowing you could be so impossibly close without needing to resort to lust and biological urges is a high of its own.
“Fine but I only did it once, okay? And it was because I had to leave you. I’m not creepy like that. I just kinda held your hand and kiss you here and there. You know, whispering into your ears. Typical K-drama kind of scenes.”
“Ugh, Mr. Hanbin. Kissing and laying with someone without their permission, how could you. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.” You groan, scrunching up your nose feigning disgust at his confession.
“If I admit i’m a creep for you, will you stop teasing me?” he quips, fingers digging into your hip eliciting a loud yelp. Doesn’t matter how much you beg, his fingers never cease their banter. Your eyes dart hastily between the door back to his playful eyes, worries engulf you.
“Yah, stop. I’m gonna get scold by the mean nurse again. She already hate me enough as it. It’s all your fault too!” You groan loudly, simultaneously hushing his overexcited self.
“You little brat, how is it my fault if you’re an annoying patient huh?” His eyes light up in pure happiness watching you squirm under his touch, a smile broad on your lips.
“CAUSE! you left a big mess with all your papers and shenanigans. Then you keep storming in and out of my room. Ugh, you’re so annoying”
“Hey, how dare you call your boyfriend annoying. You’re so getting it now!” Shifting off, he hovers threateningly over your body, hands begin trailing down along your side and once you realize where they were heading, it was already too late.
 “No, come on babe. Not my freaking thighs, stop! Yes. Yes. as long as it’s for me.”
“I’m only a creep for you, Mrs. Hanbin. Happy now?”
‘Mrs.’, that was something Hanbin had always avoided saying. Not because he didn’t see himself marrying you but because he had always been scared of rejection. He was readied, so ready to take you with him for the rest of his life. Never once had he called you “mrs.” anything. Hearing your new title, the meaning, it rattles your heart with intensity of a 9 point earthquake. Playfully hitting his chest, your crane your neck to press a small kiss onto his awaiting puckered lips before laying back down.
“Baby?” Timidly, Hanbin awaits your response, unsure if he really wants to go dig a hole when everything feels so right.
“Yes, boyfriend.” You breathe almost effortlessly much to his delight. He loves the way you could make such a simple word impact his heart in such a way, evident by the brilliant smile tumbling from his lips. You stare back with delight glossing over your doe eyes and he found himself sadden. Sadden not because of what you said but because all this time, he could’ve just given you the ring, that none of this would’ve happen.
“I’m really sorry for all the things I’ve done. I know there’s no making up for it.”
“I know…” You whisper softly, index grazing along his torso. Feeling the gap increasing between you both even though you’re still stuck close to his body, you wiggle even closer. “I… I blamed you for causing all my pain but I realized, it must’ve been ten…no, thousand times worse for you. I won’t say it’s okay because honestly, it wasn’t. I can say this though, I forgive you and I need for you to forgive yourself if we’re going be together.”
“I love you so much.” He digs his face deep into the crook of your neck, feeling his large body somehow fitting so perfectly inside your small embrace. “I don’t blame you for hating me. Even as I was going through that night, my head kept screaming at me ‘fool, you need her. Stop now before it’s too late’. Even when you were being drag away, I just wanted to chase after you, pulling you back into my arms but I was so blind I thought that was the only way you’d be happy.” A bone crushing hug found its way around your body as he mutters out a muffled confession. He finally exhales after feeling like his breathing has ceased for so long. His body on cloud 9 as your hand rubs comfort back into his skin.
“Hanbin… I can’t say that I agree with what you did but I understand. You had my best interest in mind even if it meant throwing yourself away in the process. A man that can forget about his own well being for the good of his love ones is someone I can stand behind. My happiness is with you. What I needed from Hyunwoo was closure.” You smile at the thought of having two amazing men in your life that are willing to give and support you no matter what. How lucky can one person be, honestly. “We both had thought the reason we felt so guilty for moving was because there was still lingering feeling. Turns out, we just needed closure, to make sure the other person is happy.” It was true a small part of you always held back from loving Hanbin fully. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to or you don’t care. It was you couldn’t bring yourself to be truly happy when God know where or how Hyunwoo was. In the short few months of your love being absent, progress made further than all the years that came before it had. You both found peace with letting go of a love you once cherished so deeply. You both finally forgave yourself for moving on, for being happy. You finally get to close that chapter of your life properly.
“Thank you for always understanding me. There’s something I, I’m… I don’t know if I should but I just need to know.” 
“Anything, love.” You whisper with a kiss on his forehead, worries once again dances on the tip of your tongue. Should you shut him up with another kiss or let him voice his concern no matter where his question might lead.
“The doctor, they said you were unwilling to wake up… Di-Did you remember anything from when you were sleeping? Was, was it because of me? Did you dream about me? Was it because you don’t want to see me again?” He utters out the painful cluster of words, arms constricting around your body as if it being impossibly close to you would ensure he’d get the answer he hopes for.
“No, silly. I just thought if I wake up, I’ll lose you all over again. In my dream, you were smiling at me and I couldn’t… I couldn’t let go.” 
And hope you given him.
“I’m sorry. I promise you I will never leave you. I want to spend the rest of this life with you, then all the lives after that. I honestly don’t blame you if you wake up one day and decide to leave me. I deserve every pain in this world. If I were you, I would never forgive me.” 
“But you’re not me and I’m not going anywhere. I forgave you a long time ago, Hanbin. I figured if I can’t give you the happiness you deserve then I can at least help you… that’s why I wrote you the letter.”
“My happiness is with you, always had been, the second you knock me down on that street.” Finally found enough courage to look you in the eyes, Hanbin feels himself experiencing the very definition of happy as a smile was already on your lips.
“And mine, yours.”
Now that you were officially well enough to sleep without being constantly monitor by the watchful nurse or the plentiful beeping of machines, the room suddenly feel boring.
“Hanbin, are you sleeping?” You stare up at the serene on his resting face and found yourself smiling for no reason. He’s so handsome, more now than ever that you both spilled your hearts to each other without holding anything back.
“No… I can’t sleep without you imitating the machines to lull me.” You gasp, eyes blown wide open at his little confession. Many nights while Hanbin would peacefully rest on the couch, you’d find yourself making noises, beeping along with the machine or humming random tunes. It was a way to ground yourself to reality, God know how hard it was to stay away, to not just clamber atop his stilled body and fall asleep. Other times, it’d just to keep you company from the restlessness of having been sleeping all day long.
“Oh no! You heard that?” You rasp and Hanbin just chuckles. You could never stay quiet for long and he loves you for it. Always touching him or making cute random noises as you do the most mundane things. He finds your neediness adorable. You hide behind the palms of your hands before feeling kisses being place all over them.
“Yes, babe. I heard all the noises you made up. Light sleeper now, remember?” With his eyes still close, he leans further into your needy grasp before pecking blindly at the top of your hair, missing the target a quite a few times.
“Well…. Since you’re awake, wanna do something crazy with me? One last hurrah before I say bye to this place forever?” 
“Baby, we are NOT fucking in here. The door doesn’t even have a lock. People know me here. I can’t be having my parents going in for a check up and hear fleeting murmurs of my rendezvous with my crazy girlfriend. Uh uh.” You didn’t need to peek to know there’s a full blown smirk on his devilishly handsome face despite the minor protesting he’s faking at the moment. “Plus it’s 3 in the morning, get some sleep. We’re leaving the hospital at 11 tomorrow morning.”
“Come on, baby… You never let locks and fleeting murmur stop you before…” You whine and you know he hates it. “3 in the morning is exactly why I’m proposing we do this. No one comes by at this hour.”
“No.” A simple stern word hit you before he lets his eyes fluttering close once again. No way were you going to let this opportunity go as you climb atop his stiffening body.
“Please, Hanbin. I miss you… Please…” You beg knowing he would never last if you pull a pout on him. Now how to get him to open his eyes… A dangerously smirk found itself on your lips as you straddle across his torso, lips pressing softly up to his jawline as he gulps more time than you can count in a few seconds. “Technically we don’t have to do it here… I may or may not have found a safe spot in my many days spent in this place.” The second you finish your sultry laced sentence, his head shot up faster than you could even begin to imagine. Eyes wide, his mouth gapes wide open in the process of deciphering what the hell you mean by safe spot. Just as his eyes met with your pout, you hop off the bed and begin strutting toward the door pulling along the spare blanket that was once neat atop your bedside chair.
“God, you’re so crazy.” Left Hanbin’s lips with a shake of his head yet that mischievous smile tells you he was gamed. By the time he caught up, you had reach the door to the staircase with a suggesting curl of your finger calling him over. Sighing loudly as tho he doesn’t want to, he pulls his jacket over the loose  V-necked t-shirt that had been tempting you all night by revealing just enough of that flawless skin and enticing sharpness of his collar bones and neck. 
“Baby, how is the staircase safe?” he questions, taking your hand in his.
“Not here. I’m not crazy.” You jest, leading him up. His mouth gapes wide open in shock as if your proposal of fucking in the same hospital that he was born in, got his first cast on his arm after falling off his beloved horse, then stitching on his knee not too long after from a dirt bike, the very same one that his parents still frequent often is absolutely, completely normal but getting it on in the staircase is absolutely bonker. A strangled sound caught your attention as you reach out for his hand. He looks like a damn fish gulping air in and out as he struggles with the logical side of himself whether he should speak up or not. 
“Don’t you dare call me crazy, Kim Hanbin. We fucked in a freaking field before, and on the plane, and in the closet that one time you were bored out of your mind at the old men convention.”
“Can you not call my business party “old men convention”? Make me sound so unattractive.”
“it’s some lame party with a bunch of old dudes pretending they’re still in their primes and they have the perfect family, perfect marriage. but really they’re just happy their wives let them loose for once to mingle with other old dudes and like stare at my ass.” Your head twist around to sass at him. “ You know the only reason why their wives let them out right? So they can all huddle up in the corner of the party with their expensive wine that cost more than my apartment and talk shit about their husbands. Oh and they stare at your ass, and body, and face, and like everything else. Come on, babe. You didn’t even wanna go and you were the one that hosted the party.” You hop down a few steps to meet his level before leaning in for a simple sweet kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry, you’re the handsomest old man there. I won’t leave you even if some other old man was worth 10 times more drop out of the sky. No sir, I’m good with my old man Hanbin.” You scrunch up your eyebrows, shaking your head a few time just to emphasize on how much you enjoy teasing him.
“You’re lucky I love you. I swear, you’re so goddamn vexing sometimes.” He groans but did not refuse your hand pulling him along the steps.
By the time your feet had past the door of the highest floor, just 2 flights of stair above your floor, Hanbin finally caught onto your idea of a safe spot is. Judging from the darkening of his eyes and the smug grin on his lips, it’s fair to say he agrees. Soon enough you both reach your destination as the auto doors slide wide open, rushing fresh air to the dampen atmosphere of the mostly unused highest flights of stairs. Aside from the nurses and doctors hiding out for a quick smoke, you had figured out that no one ever go up here outside of lunch hours despite the well maintained area equips with outdoor heater and a numbers of picnic table for lunch breaks. Now that the inky sky had taken over for the day, no one bothers trekking all the way up here seeing how the elevator stopped two floors down, the last floor with actual patient rooms. 
“What do you think? Neat huh?”
“Okay, fine. It’s pretty nice up here.” Hanbin unwillingly admit although a smile bright on his face as he approaches the thick glass fencing that remains the only thing holding the  safe haven of the roof and the 15 stories drop onto the world below.
“I spent a lot of time here whenever you leave for work… something about it. Clears my mind. I just forget about all the messy relationship stuff when I’m here. It’s just me and my thought.” Your voice dips low as you take a spot next to his, back leaning onto the cool glass, eyes searching for any sign of stars above but all you could see was man made stars. “ I forget sometimes that you were gone when I’m up here. I found myself calling out to you then just break down crying when there’s no answer. Pathetic, right? All I had to do was kiss you but I’m too fucking stubborn to even do that but then I sit here and cry like none of this is my fault. I’m so sorry” Your eyes on your very own star now. He seems to be shining so brightly even though a frown was forming on the edges of those beautiful lips of his. His eyes dejected as he gazes down on the bustling world below, almost as if wishing he could just jump and warp back in time to stop himself from hurting you. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby… I started this.” He breathes so gently it’d have been carried away with the night breeze had you not been giving him your full focus.
“For screaming at you, for hating you, for everything. Please… Hanbin.” Your pleading left your lips weak, dismal but all the more sincere. “Please, don’t leave me again.” You were sobbing now and there was nothing he could do to stop you but pulling you tight under his arms, secure you in his needy grasp as he cries with you. For the first time since you woke up, you utter words of weakness and deepest desire, You could scream, you could hit him, cuss at him and while it hurt, nothing hurt more than to see you break down into fragile fragments of what left of his girlfriend.  
“It’s okay, baby. I’m never leaving, ever again.” was all he could whispers as the night cold paints you both with its brushes of frost. You both stand there, stealing each other body heat, bearing all the vulnerabilities of being hurt for each other to see. Your hands cling onto his back desperately under his jacket because even with the relatively thin material obstructing you from feel him, you’re still fearing he could just be another one of your figment of imagination, fisting up the material as tightly as you can just in case he’d dissipate if you let go. He says nothing but grabbing tighter onto your shivering frame because he knows you need this, he had his weak moment just letting it all go in your arms and now you need yours. He had long figured out that it would take all his life to earn back that seemingly unending trust you had for him because well, he gave you a taste of his disappearing act and what will stop him from performing it again. He gave you a taste of what your sunshine of a man could really do if darkness takes over, even if he meant well. He’s acutely aware that to you, the option of him just up and leave out of nowhere is all too real even if with all his heart and soul he’s certain, so certain that never again would he do it. He needs you too much, loves you too much to ever do something so hideously stupid ever again. It pains to even think he had done so much damage that your fear is that of him just walking away… again. You were the fearless one in the relationship. The fearless he’s thinking of here isn’t the kind that you possess as a strong independent woman he fell in love with, the kind that he admires so much. No, the fearless here is the one where you lead your relationship without ever worrying about consequences or being hurt. The one that whispered in your ear “yes” when he asked you to take a trip with him 2 weeks into your friendship even though you got no idea where you were going or even if he’s really is just a lonely sad boy who needed friend. The same one that encased you in its carefree embrace as he lead you toward the walk in closet at his parents’ mansion during the old man convention knowing how humiliating it would be if anyone were to catch the both of you moaning each other names as they walk by. You didn’t care, you trust that he would take care of you if such things did happen. The same one that stroked a laugh out of you as you both hand in hand jump off a cliff in some exotic island you can’t even pronounce the name off into the glistening blue ocean that would make aquamarine pale with jealousy even when you were scare shitless of the height. Why did you do it? Well because he would never endanger you in anyway. No harm would come to you, his promise that he upheld for so long until that night. The sheer shock and panic of going through that decision again in his mind rips him away from his reverie as he feel you calm in his hold. Suddenly the shadow of trepidation darken his body as his embrace constricts, letting him feel every dip and curve of your body and how you just melt into his touch, wiggling just to fit in with the tightening grasp. You’re so serene in the way your hand caressing the curve of his spine, face resting in the crook of his neck with your other hand over his heart. His urges too strong at this point to ignore so he pushes you off and chuckle at the strange cat-liked sound you produce, stupefy for a moment from the sudden movement. You stare deep into Hanbin’s eyes searching for any hint of uncertainty, any hint that he wants to hurt you again, push you away again but satisfy when you found none. He’s just your Hanbin again. The same one with eyes holding your whole universe, lips like the ripeness of all the best summer fruits this world could hold, and heart fresh like the first breeze of spring. He stares back and find all the answer to his life struggle as you crack a small smile, captivating him in a way nothing of this world could. Then almost too fast for human being, he’s already on your lips in a kiss with the fervidity of all those who lost but then found love again. It wasn’t the usual slow built kiss that remind you of the campfire that one summer spent at his cabin. It didn’t start of slow and dry like the tiny flickering flame of the smolder struggling to catch on. It wasn’t even the paced wet kiss of a newly born fire, latching onto any source of fuel it could. He lunges on you the burst of flame that comes with the added support of lighter fluid, of all the kindling he could possibly add in. His lips waste no time in pulling yours into the little pocket of space and time where only you and him exist. Hanbin tugs at your lower lips, nibbling, biting, smashing his lips against your all the way he knows how. The moment he feel you gasping under the pleasurable pain of his bite and the desperation of wanting more but also needing oxygen, his tongue breaches pass your lips getting straight to chasing yours. Hands tangle in your bedhead strands almost locking you in place conveying how much he wants to let you know he is never going to lose you, ever again. 
“Hanbin…  baby… table” is the most you manage to wrangle out before he already hoists you up making his way toward a table in the back corner, the furthest away from the entrance. He stays silent, never say a word but it’s not like he ever needs to for you to understand his intention. You shed your wrinkled up hospital shirt from hours of cuddling the second your weight got support from the wooden table below and he follows suit. By God, after so long of holding in the thirst for him, the sight of him standing there shirtless admiring you with pupils so blown out his eyes are almost pitch black is enough to make you finish then and there. Ever so caring, he wraps his jacket around your now naked body, shielding you from the numbing gaze of the night wind as he lets his eyes trace out all the part of you he misses so much. 
“You will be the death of me.” He breathlessly mutters out before resuming the fight for dominant over your lips, smirking at how easily you submit to you. His hand like a map guiding his lips to explore the temptations of your body. Still staring deep into your eyes, the soft pads of his fingers caress the sharpness of your collar bones before dipping down letting the flowers of love bloom brightly on your soft skin. A gasp struggles out from the thousands of small tingling shocks running, spreading from your skin deep to your core. Your fingers quick to make home in his hair, tugging and scratching, pulling him closer. “You like that? Letting everyone knows you’re mine?” He sounds so devilishly captivating and all you could let pass your lips was a breathless “yes” before kicking your head back, basking in the gratification of his thumb circling, flicking your nipple gently while his lips working on the other one. “It’s still amaze me how perfectly your breasts mould to my hands, just so perfect, all for me.” He took a step back, eyes scrutinize every part of your body the best way possible with his hand still kneading at your soft mounds, his jacket barely hiding the world from gazing upon your naked body. He dips back in, sucking at your skin, inciting fire at with ever pass of his lips before his teeth dig into the already crimson marks. The man knows exactly what to do to get you work up and before you know it, “all yours” already slips out into the cold air stroking his ego further. 
Both hands on your side now, he slowly trails them down, thumbs pressing into your sensitive skin as his tongue trail down from the valley of your breast straight to your belly button, not bothering to stop once until he reaches the forbidden place that only he has the key to. Hands holding your hips down firmly in place, he orders a stern “open” before diving straight into your more than willing spreading thighs. No teasing tonight as his tongue quick to the point in toying with your aching swollen clit. Your body curl up in the sudden floodgate of pleasure opening from months of drought only to have him grasping on tighter surely to leave marks. “Don’t you dare move, princess. I need a good taste first, then I’ll make you feel good. You want that, don’t you? I would hate to deny my princess that, especially after this long of waiting.” You nod furiously, hand holding down your thighs as if that really would stop the instinctive jerk of your body in response to his tongue flicking but then he stops, just staring up at you. “You waited for me right?” He looks so dangerous with eyes nearly all black from lust, a snarl threatening to spill from his lips, brows furrow driving his features into a cross of half smugness half anger, as if daring you to say no, to find out what kind of punishment would awaits you if you did. To his heart content, you nod yes. “Use your words, baby.” He grunts and you yelp out a loud “yes” to meet his victorious smirk. Something about the way he was praising you with the simple use of “good girl” had you rolling your hip onto his lips almost instinctively. You gasp, hand clasping over your lips in worry that you had just done something wrong, that he would deny you of your end but he only response with a dip of two fingers inside your body. You nearly cry from the sudden pleasure, back hitting what would’ve been the cold hard surface of the table if not for the jacket that Hanbin had so attentively wrap around your body. “Come on, princess. You wanted this, at least do my skill some justice. Let me hear you.” Your eyes shut tight, hand grabbing at nothing from the already intense stroking of his fingers. “Fuck, Hanbin… Please. It’s been too long, don’t tease me.” No sooner than your begging mess collapse backward onto the cold hard surface, a charming smirk and a breath of sigh meet your senses in their dance of allure. “No patient, as always. When will you ever learn that good things, very good things will come if your pretty little body can just hold out. No matter, we all know how much I love you begging anyways…” That cocky little shit, you thought, how he manages to put you in this dumfounded trance no matter what he does you didn’t know. What you do know is judging from the swift sound of the drawstring of his sweat untying, you’re about to get exactly what you’ve been asking for so if it means stroking his big, but not by any mean unfound, ego then you will. 
Both his hands found purchase around your jaw as he settles in between your legs, eyes holding an intense gaze, burning you with all his love and desire. A soft kiss finds itself onto your lips with a fleeting whisper of “I love you” drawing out your own smile as you return the favor. 
“Ready, baby?” He growls, breaths growing heavy with anticipation as yours hasten knowing exactly what’s about to happen.
With a gentle nod, that devilish smirk is back on his gorgeous features as he watches your struggle to cope with the sudden flood of blinding pleasure. A moan escapes your lips, face twisting up looking near in pain although Hanbin knows otherwise as his face takes on a similar expression. He hold himself still for a moment, letting your body acclimate to the familiar feeling of him filling you up so wonderfully and he with the overwhelming pressure of being so intimately connected to the person he cares so deeply about. He sighs in relief, overjoy as your scrunched up expression blooms into a blissful smile, eyes being force open to stare up at him. So delicately, Hanbin eases back out as slowly as he could without denying either of you the pleasure that’s buzzing fast across your warming skin. A near scream involuntarily rips from your throat as he suddenly thrust hard, hips snapping against your body with the surge of primal desire. 
“You’re alright, baby?” Ever the gentleman, even being lost within his lust, nothing could stop him from assuring you are perfectly safe and sound, happy when a ragged “yes” then a “harder, Hanbin” stumbles from your parting lips. “Anything for my lady.” he had said before all you could see was stars as his thrusts increase in both speed and strength. Six months, half a year of being away from you, of not being to experience your love, all of it is behind him. He collapses atop your jerking body, lips resume its exploration of your body all the while a grin play upon his delectable lips.  
“Fuck, baby. Your body is amazing. I don’t think I will ever get enough.” He grunts, hardly able to pass a breath as his senses overload with everything that’s you.
“Neither can I but please…” You huff out, feeling your end ringing close, sweat dripping down your skin even with the cold breeze of night. “… I’m so close, Hanbin, please… I-” 
Begging, begging had always been his biggest weakness, just seeing you so submissive, so willing to cater to his ever needs just to chase your own ending with those innocent eyes despite being fuck into oblivion. No sooner than your pleading whines left your bruised lips from the endless tugging of his teeth, a hand softly, and skillfully wrap tight around your craned neck having your breath hitches in excitement. His eyes darken further, an almost dangerous smirk burst out with life as he stares down on you threatening, daring to see if you were brave enough to break eye contact with him. The small gasps with your struggle to your meet long awaited high has his thrust pounding you into the hard surface and his grunts deepen. You needed your high to drop so badly and you could tell by the way his face twisting up so painfully pleasurable, so did he. 
“Begging like that… You’re lucky we’re no- we’re not at home because you’d be in so much trouble. Teasing me, riled me up then begging with those doe eyes of yours. We both know you’re just a devious little girl, playing me to get what you want.” Hanbin’s hand retreats from your neck to carding through your hair, grasping it harshly, lips near assaulting your own. 
“What are you gonna do about it, boss? I- I think you’re more bark than bite.” You stutter out as confidently as you could but with Hanbin’s teeth clamping down tight on your battered lips, tugging it as harsh as he could, your voice shuts up fast, only satisfying moans were left. 
“What were you saying, baby?” He pulls away, his thrusts messy as he peers down on you almost contemptuously with that shit eating grin of his, knowing he has all the power over you. Your eyes hide away, nails clawing at the cold table after a hard thrust, thighs clenching hard around his body. Hanbin himself is beginning to lose control himself, one hand neatly atop your breast groping harshly, the other pressing your convulsing body down in place, head thrown back as he tries his best to keep it together to chase your high. 
“Hanbin… Fuck… I-I” Ears ringing, eyes blinding, your mind’s befuddle no words would come out even if you try.
“Let go, baby. Let me help you through it.” His words soothe your whole body into nirvana,  your back ripping off the cold surface as a scream for Hanbin tear from your throat, chest heaving violently reacting to the waves of pleasure roughing up your body after so long. Your hands grip tight on the flexed muscles of his upper arms as he hasten his pace, pushing your limit as small burst of lightening buzzes through your body from the overstimulation. You want so bad for him to stop but you can’t deny him his well earned release. You lick your lips, fingers ghosting over your own nipples as you stare deep in his eyes. You moan to egg him on and moan because that’s all you could do to cope with how sensitive everything is, how far he’s pushing your abused bare sex. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you even with his own high shutting down just about every function in his brain. Hanbin slumps over, hands grasping your shoulder tighter as he feels the coil in his lower ab tensing up with each thrust. One last grunt before his eyes flutter shut and warmth spread all over your sore, overworked inside. Ignoring the dead weight pinning down your body, your hands cup his cheeks pulling him close for one last fervid kiss before letting the lull of exhaustion carries you both to rest. 
Laying there in his arm, completely bare for anyone to see feel strangely comforting. Neither of you were shy when it comes to baring all for the world to see but this moment is breaching any limit you had set before. Even with the lack of the warm cover and soft mattress awaiting to serve your weary bodies just a few floor below, you’re perfectly happy in this moment with Hanbin flushing tight on your back, face nuzzling close to your hair.
“You know I was really jealous…” You speak up to break the silent that by no mean dull. You just miss hearing his voice.
“Hmm? Jealous of my friend?” A kiss finds itself resting on your disgustingly sweat filled locks that hanbin too kindly had said was still perfect even post sex.
“I mean, that’s obvious … I was talking about before.”
“Before?” He parroting back, humming in confusion. What had you got up to now.
“Like, before I confessed to you… I was really jealous. All those girls that rubbed up on you at parties, practically sexed  you in front of hundreds of people. I hated that I couldn’t be them.” You sigh at the thought of being back in that place, of not being able to love Hanbin so publicly.
“Was that why you were so grumpy all the time? That has to be the cutest thing ever. I made you so jealous that you finally decided to confess? Damn, if I knew all it took was me side eyeing other girls, I would’ve done that years earlier.” He suddenly exclaims with excitement as if it would’ve changed the sequence of life.
“Okay, don’t be haughty. i was so goddamn out of my mind jealous and pissed off that you weren’t looking at me and touching all those girls I near gave up.” With a flick to his forehead, you sass back and watch as hanbin winces in pain but a smile never left his lips.
“But you didn’t, and I can’t express how lucky I am. Thank you for not giving up on me… Even when I’m the biggest asshole in the world.” 
“You’re my morning cup of joe. Without you I’m nothing but a crankier, insufferable version of myself. You made me better.” So softly, your words bring out the brightest smile he could muster up as a big kiss meets your lips.
Something about post coital cuddle really gets to you in ways even the actual act of sex can’t. It’s just so intimate in the best way possible. You trust someone enough to let them fill you up with euphoria but to be able to just lay there and small talk, even just share a laugh, that show true love, true desire, and real trust. There you lay in Hanbin’s arms, smiling to yourself for being able to just listen to his chest heavily heaving. You curl up against his body, skin sticky, hair probably look like you haven’t wash it in ages judging from how it’s matting to your forehead. Hanbin as always, looking ethereally, glowing under the pale moon and the sight assaulting light pollution of the city. If only all those people in those planes could see you both, they would probably burst into flame from the sinful sight. Yet something about this silent of satisfying moans and heavy pants that’s just so beautiful. Little did you know, Hanbin had plan to make this moment all the more magnificent and lasting forever. 
“baby, I know- I know this isn’t the best time for this but…” He huffs out, hesitant on what words to use and how to not offend you. His hand dips into the pocket of his jacket inconspicuously, holding that small box that’s key to his future tightly as if holding onto a battery source, a motivation to encourage what was about to happen next.
“What is it, Hanbin?” Neck cranes, you did your best to decipher his hesitation, hoping whatever it is, it’ll continue this love-high you’re both on.
“Doesn’t this remind you of that summer…”
“You mean the one where you fucked me senseless in the field behind your vacation home?”
“Yes, yes but it was more than just fucking though, wasn’t it? At least for me it was so much more. It was the first time we really just let go of all our reservation and insecurities and just enjoy one another…”
“Of course it was just more than sex. It’s always more than meets the eyes when I’m around you. I still can’t wrap my head around how lucky I am to meet someone like you, Hanbin. I just, it’s beyond me. Thank you, baby, for everything.”
“I’m glad you feel the same way because that’s how I’m feeling right now. I don’t know if we haven’t been together for so long or that, that i’m just so elated to be with you again, to have another chance. My heart, my soul can’t even comprehend your present right now. It’s like you’re all my best dream coming true and you’re just laying here in my arm. You trust me enough to let me take the lead for so long and even after I royally fucked us both up, you’re still here. How are you even real, Y/n. I thanks God daily to let me have a chance to meet you, to love you, and for you to love me back. It’s more than anything I could ever ask for in life. When I’m with you, my money, my status, my company, none of it matter. I can’t even put in words my affection for you, my obsession, lust, desire, need, want, everything. I’ve never feel so strongly about anyone before in my life. If one day I fail at my job, lose it all, I honestly wouldn’t care because I know I have you and you wouldn’t leave me just because I lost all the dazzling part that comes with CEO Hanbin. You, miss, you love me even without all of that. After months of being alone I realize, whenever you ask me for things, it had always been my time, my love, or my affection. Never once did you ask me for material things and I can’t even say enough how thankful I am for that. When I look at you, I see my future. Future of just living in a simple home, spending our days together, visiting our parents, adopting pets, raising kids… I, that’s exactly what I want and I know it’s so crass of me to be asking so much of you especially after I took so much but Y/n, baby. I love you. I love you so much and would you do me the honor of marrying me? I would love for nothing more but to spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you. So please, baby. Marry me.”
“Hanbin, I-…” You wanted to scream from how happy he had just made you. God knows how long you waited for this day and after so much trials and tribulations, all the test of life thrown at the both of you, you made it. 
“It’s okay if you need time to think. I know this is a big-”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, Hanbin. Thousand, millions times over. Yes. You can ask me tomorrow, a year from now, 10 years from now, it will always be yes. I love you so much.”
Happiness doesn’t begin to describe the surge of emotion flooding Hanbin’s body. All he could do is what he always does, hold you close and just let you feel the beating of his heart. He has no words, all thoughts lost upon him as he presses a long time coming kiss on his soon to be wife’s lips. He had dreamed of this day, this moment ever since he decided to pursue you. He mulled over it many night of what kind of spectacle, extravaganza would he set up to make this moment as perfect as can be for you but this, God, this is so much better than anything he could come up with. There’s no flashy event, no showy materials things, no one else around but just you and him. Neither of you had ever let the monetary things in life get in the way of your love and this proposal was the most perfect thing for the simple couple that you both is. Just you, him and the contagious joy that was spreading lights into even the drab atmosphere of the hospital. Pulling back, tears still welling up in his eyes, he finally retrieves the box that had been resting in the jacket that was still wrapped tightly around your body, the box he thought he would never get the chance to use. 
“I don’t have the best taste in jewelry so if you don’t like it, we can get something else.”
“Kim Hanbin, you should know better than that by now. I love whatever you get and to be honest, even if you don’t get me a ring, I would still marry you. Like, you really think I’m gonna let you escape a second time? Hell no.”
“You’re so silly sometimes… Hand please, Mrs. Hanbin!”
“Uhm, I don’t think you can call me that yet, Mr. Hanbin.” You blink back a few tears, trying your best not to lose it then and there, screaming to the world just how happy you are.
“I don’t care, you always were my Mrs. even from the first second.”
“Oh my god, this is beautiful. babe, you didn’t need to get me anything exorbitant… I mean it is very beautiful and I love it.”
“I know, I just I was so happy when I went to pick out the ring that I got carried away… Only the best for my wife.”
“Hanbin. My husband. Forever. I’d like that.”
“Y/n. My wife. Always mine. I’m never letting you go.”
Thanks goodness the night wrapped up without a hitch as you both hand in hand brave the world as newly engaged lovebirds. Bundled up in the hospital blanket, you shied away behind Hanbin’s back, giddy from the thought that the groups of nurses dying for a smoke break that was now trudging up pass you could’ve walk right in the middle of your love making session had they decided to take a break just 20 minutes earlier. Your cold pale skin rosey from the overwhelming excitement both physically and emotionally as you both bowed back to the nurses. 
“Okay, missy. You can stop giggling like a kid now. Did you realize we could’ve got caught?” Hanbin grimaced, groaning as he tucked you back onto the spacious bed.
“I’m sorry… but I can’t help it.” Blanket pulled up to hide half your face to avoid further scrutiny from your handsome man, you pulled a pout that although he can’t see, Hanbin knew very well prominent on your face.
“I seriously cannot with you anymore, baby. Get some rest, I’m going to head down and reschedule your discharge time.”
With a small wave and a muttered of “be back soon” you let drowsiness overtook your senses as you watch him disappeared down the hall. Soon after, your prince returns, a serene smile on his lips as he watches your chest heaves gently, a glint of hope sparkling on your finger pulling a smile onto his lips, before shutting the door and crawling in right next to you. 
“Goodnight, princess. I promise to always be here.”
A sweet kiss to your forehead before the sandman works his magic over the room. For once in months, Hanbin finally sleep at ease.
“Hanbin, how is she?” Worries spill from Mrs. Kim the second she steps foot inside your hospital room, bag thrown aside carelessly as she hover, hands patting your cheeks and forehead slightly. The news of you staying an extra few hours travel fast, especially with her at the edge of her seat having seen you disappeared from her life once before.
“She’s well now. The doctors finished all their test last night and she’s clear to go home.” Hanbin smiles, albeit exhausted, still mesmerizing. His eyes couldn’t tear away from your still slightly pale skin from the long road of recovering, grateful that the rosy tone has slowly returning.
“They told me she was suppose to go home this morning, it’s 5PM. What happened?” Concern shakes the whole room as she approaches your still body, curling up so peacefully in a fetal position, fast asleep.
“Nothing… I kept her up late last night so we missed the discharge time.”
“What did you do to my daughter, Kim Hanbin.” Stern and straight to the point, Hanbin’s surprise his mom hadn’t gotten his ear under her fingers.
“We talked, a lot. About everything that happened…”
“And?”
“See for yourself, mom.” Hanbin chirpy, cryptic tone did nothing but making his mom rages with uneasiness. She follows the direction of his gaze, befuddlement darken the normally kind eyes. Even after a good minute of staring, she still couldn’t figure out what the hell her crazy son was talking about. All she sees is you quietly snoring away from probably exhaustion caused by her son. 
“Mom, come on. Look harder.” Hanbin groans, earning a glare from his mom. She shakes her head incredulously at his ridiculous antic before laying eyes on his hand that was now reaching out to yours. Intertwining fingers, he gently pulls your hand on his lap, presenting it like the most exquisite piece of artifact at a museum. His thumbs stroking the back of your hand softly, a smirk appears on his lips the second her eyes widen in shock the second that insanely magnificent piece of jewelry that officially puts an end to both your heartbreak shines bright in the sleepy evening sun.
“I, oh my. Is that what I think it is. Son, you better not be joking with me right now. I will kill you with my bare hand then bring you back so your dad can punish you if you’re lying right now. No!” She gasps loudly, stirring your restful form. Hanbin presses his index to his lips with a soft shush before hovering above your wincing features, planting soft kisses along your forehead and cheeks as he would whenever you get nightmare.
“It’s okay, baby.” He coos softly, free hand stroking your hair lightly as the other one still holding onto yours tightly, his mom couldn’t help but relax into a motherly smile as she watches her baby boy becoming a man, a gentleman just like she hope he would be. “Shh, baby. It’s ok, sleep.” A few more kisses meet your lips before a smile breaks out on your lips as you settle back into a deep slumber.
“Yes, mom. it’s exactly what you think it is on her ring finger. She said yes last night… We were up talking most of last night, hence the dela-” 
“Oh my dear lord. My baby.” Mrs. Kim lunges forward and before Hanbin could even reacts, she’s already planting kisses all long his cheeks. “Finally, you did something right.”
“Okay, thanks mom. way to make me feel like a loser.”
“No, no, no. No son of mine is a loser if he could right all his wrongs. I’ll leave you two love birds alone. This is the best news I have in awhile.” She teases as her gaze lovingly falls onto the object that just unlock a whole new life for her son.
Happiness can’t even begin to cover the mutual feeling share by mother and son as they gaze upon your drowsy form, matching smile on both their lips. Mrs. Kim rub circle on her son’s back, a mother’s comfort, letting him know that no matter what, Hanbin will always have her full support. A few more minutes of chatting and Mrs. Kim bid farewell to a still giddy Hanbin. Unlike her usual calm facade, she wears a bright smile on her lips, tone of voice could barely contain the excitement for the future of her growing family. 
“Mom, can you keep this a secret for a little while longer? I just want to have this moment between me and her for a bit… You know how everyone gets with the congratulations, and the questions, and the blah blah blah.” Hanbin muses over with his mom snuggle close under his arm as the pair saunter to the exit.
“Of course. It’s your news to share, take as much time as you two need. Lord know you both need some peace and quiet time to yourself. The last few months had been stormy and tumultuous to say the least.” Hanbin’s mom sigh rather than a heavy breath, it was filled with relief that the struggle had passed for her dear son and soon to be official daughter because let’s face it, you had always been a daughter in her eyes. 
“Thanks, mama. The Mrs. and I appreciate your discretion.” Hanbin grins widely, catching himself letting the new term flowing off his tongue so easily.
“Look at you, already speaking like a true married man. Don’t worry about anything, alright. Just take time to ease back into this. Now I don’t claim to have the most perfect marriage in the world. Close, but not quite.” Mrs. Kim chuckles a bit at her own boastfulness. “ Marriage aren’t always going to be a walk in the park and it shouldn’t be. You’ll fight, you’ll cry, sometimes things will be thrown but at the end of the night, never go to sleep angry at each other. After all the glitz and glamour of the world fade away, your partner is all you really have. Even your children will leave you someday but your spouse won’t. You both are about to embark on the longest journey of your lives so don’t feel like you need to rush because of other people. Who care what other people think and say about your relationship, as long as you’re content with yourself, that’s all that matter. Take all the time in the world until it feels right.”
With a parting hug, Hanbin watches as his mom drive off into the distant, nodding to himself, engraving her every word into his mind. Still stuck in cloud 9, he found himself just staring at the spot that his mom had parked a few moments ago before jerking out of his day dream. You’re waiting for him in the room and finally, finally he can just run in and pull you into his arms. No one can ever take you away from him, ever again. He has to right to be a smug bastard about being the only man in your life that could kiss you good morning and snuggle you at night. It’s all beginning to sink in faster than an anchor dropping at sea now that he has a moment of complete silent to think. You’re his fiancee. No joke, you’re really his forever. Internally freaking out, Hanbin screams off the top of his lung a loud cheer of happiness. His voice echoing through the empty parking structure with all its might, drawing attention to the now red as a tomato boy. He bows apologetically for disturbing everyone’s peace as he tear off into the hospital once more. Swinging the door wide open, he’s just stand there grinning at your still serene body curling up on the bed. 
“Baby, time to get ready to go home.” He sinks his weight onto the bed just next to you, pressing a big kiss onto your cheek and watches as you stir in your sleep.
“Hmm?” You response sleepily and Hanbin couldn’t help but giggle at your cat liked nature, curling up in a ball while pawing his pestering hands away.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart. You can rest more at home. I won’t get yell at for sleeping with you there.”
“Just a few more minutes, Mr. I’m tired.” You groan, rolling over to the other side of the bed to avoid his pestering. Sighing loudly, Hanbin mumbles a defeated “What am I going to do with you” before falling onto the bed, ignoring the nagging of his mind that he might get in trouble with the mean nurse again. You grin in happiness of just how much of a softie Hanbin gets around you as he snuggles close, spooning you tightly from behind.
“You know…” Hanbin suddenly speaks up, arms tighten even further around your body. “I’ve spent so many nights just sitting there, staring at this ring and wonder about the what ifs and could’ve been. I never thought this moment would be possible.” The gentleness of his voice like the most expensive tickling of ivories in your ears as his fingers ghost over your own, thumb rubbing the back of your hand delicately. “I didn’t think us was ever going to happen again but here I am with my beautiful fiancee in my arms. I think anything is possible, wouldn’t you agree?” That playful tone, he’s up to his cheeky business and you’ll be damned if you don’t join in.
“Hmm, rightly so.” You quip, taking your chance to glance back at the lovestruck boy with the glistening smile on his lips.
“So I think, if my beautiful fiancee… God, I’ll never get tired of saying that…” He pauses for a moment before a soft peck graces you. “If my girl wants another 10 minutes of sleep, that’s the least I can do right?” He jests with a small giggle, leaving you rolling your eyes at his ever unpredictable mood change.
“hmm… ‘s that right?” You yawn lazily, pulling the blanket over your shoulders before fluttering shut your eyes once again.
“Yea. You know, it’ll take me at least 10 minutes to finish the rest of your paperwork, pulling the car up, moving your luggage into the car, wait for the nurse to get a wheelchair… 20 minutes even. This way you get a few extra minutes of napping and I don’t get yell at.” He exclaims enthusiastically as if he had just found the solution to world hunger. “SEE! I am so husband material. Compromise is the key to marriage, I’ve been told. If only my VP and the board of directors see me now.” He hisses, no doubt rolling his eyes at all his employees, dreaming about sassing them on compromising 101. “And they say I don’t know how to compromise because I’m stubborn as a bull.” 
“Is that what it is, compromising? I think you’re so whipped for me that you’ll do anything. It’s okay, Mr. Let’s go home before we both get yell at cause let’s face it, if we do, I’m using my sick patient in the hospital card and throwing you under the bus.” You feign a few small coughs and he rolls his eyes for the blatant betrayal already even before you tie the knot.
“Shhh. It’s compromising for my lovely wife, okay? And no can do, Mrs. Lay back down. I made my plan and I will see it through.” Honestly at this point, you’re wide awake but decided to entertain his playful antic anyways. After all this time, he deserves some joy, especially deserve to have his way with you back. Truly, you really just want to soak in all that attention he has to give even if all the days after, you’d be side by side until time dies. You watch as he fumbles off the bed, limbs tangled in the blanket before he shoots you a teasing wink and huffs off down the hall to the nurse station. 
The gentle heat of a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the realization that Hanbin is yours, for all eternity, it will be just you and him. Finally you could watch him walk away without feeling your heart being tear apart and it’s the best feeling in the world. Whatever happens now, you know your dear husband will surely shield you from it all as you vow to protect his heart for as long as you both shall live. Whatever happens now you can breathe easy knowing never again will either of you walk along the shadow path of loneliness and that’s enough for you. Whatever happens now, just Hanbin will be enough. 
Part 1 | Part 2
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The Iron Garden Chapter 1
The Iron Garden a Gajevy Fic. 
Hello all you beautiful people! Flashback to Chapter 1! This has been my first ever shared writing piece and the responses so far have been amazing. The encouragement and kind words from you all never ceases to amaze me.  
Heads up I am a perv when it comes to these two little lovebirds so believe me when I sat rated M. A big ol throbbing, tingling, wet, moaning M. (Ya catch my drift?) Welcome to the Magic Council! This story follows the entrance of Gajeel, Levy and Pantherlily into their council life. The emotional trauma which occurred after the disbandment of the guild and the adventures within. Gajeel has a dirty mouth that can't be contained nor his sexual desire for our favorite bluenette! So ye be warned for crude language with lemons ahead!
Chapter 1 A lone figure walked the grim outskirts of Magnolia, the sky was overcast and the light drizzle was beginning to turn back into heavy rain. Khaki pants tucked into black combat boots were spotted with rain drops, his dark green shirt was covered underneath his long black coat. The figure looked up at the gray sky only to receive a large plop of rain on his heavily pierced nose. The mocking sky was given a threatening growl from deep within the chest of the now wet man. His angular face turned into a harder frown as he felt the rain continuing to pick up. Hiking up his bag so that it was higher on his shoulder, he pulled it further underneath his long coat to protect it from the elements. The knapsack contained groceries and iron scraps for the next few days, and would immediately become useless if it become soaked.   “Damn cat scared to go to the store just because of some stupid fucking thunder”. The Iron Dragon Slayer was lived, he hated the rain and he hated being responsible for groceries. It was Lilly’s job he thought to himself. The Dragon Slayer so lost in grumbling thoughts stepped into a puddle, covering the the outside of his boot with mud and earning him one wet pant leg. “Arrgggg”! Gajeel was losing his patience, angrily pulling his collar up as best he could he began jogging through the remaining trees that would lead him to his cabin.
A few minutes later he arrived on his own doorstep, sighing in relief at being back in his own space and out of the terrible weather. “I’ll be worse than thunder cat if you make me do this again” he grumbled while opening the door. Gajeel promptly kicked off his boots on the rug not caring he was letting mud go everywhere. He shook his mane of black hair out attempting to lighten up the weight it added to his head. Wet strands stuck to the sides of his face and forehead, and he briefly wondered why he didn’t wear a headband. Shrugging to himself he walked into the kitchen dumping the food onto the counter not bothering to take it out of the bag. “Lilly can handle putting the shit up” Gajeel growled loudly while simultaneously opening himself up a beer.  He treasured the moment of quiet while he downed his beer, but quickly felt troubled when Lily didn’t come into the kitchen to sass him at his last comment. ‘Humph” where is everyone he wondered. Finishing his beer Gajeel threw the bottle away and headed upstairs to look for Lilly and his guest.    Tiptoeing up the stairs he peeked into Lily's room only to see an empty bed. Gajeel scrunched his eyebrows at the ridiculousness of making the bed everyday only to mess it up again. “Somethings I just don’t understand about you Lil” the Iron Dragon stated continuing across the hallway. Gajeel snorted lightly, his sense of smell alerting him to what awaited on the other side of the large oak bedroom door.  Opening the door slowly to avoid any squeaking the Iron Dragon peeked his head inside, a small smile formed as he looked at the scene before him. His bed, or at least what used to be his bed looked empty at first glance. Seemingly only being taken up by comforters and pillows ranging in sizes it took extra attention to detail to notice the little blue tuft of hair sticking out from under the thick blankets. Gajeel’s eyes softened as he slowly walked closer to a small figure wrapped under countless blankets. All that was really visible was the tip of her nose and a mess of wild curls. One of her arms was half out from under the covers holding to her chest a small black exceed, who was as peacefully asleep as the girl behind him. A book laid almost under her head from where the girl must have drifted to sleep, it was only on closer inspection did Gajeel notice her red glasses were still on her face. One side had unhooked leaving them crooked with one half in front of her forehead.    Gajeel was holding back laughing at the two forms in his bed, equally annoyed, jealous and pleased the Iron Dragon wasn’t sure what to do with himself . Part of him longed to join the comforting scene in his bed, but he knew better. That wasn’t meant for him, holding the girl while she slept wasn’t a luxury he would ever have. Straightening up to distance himself from the smell of her flowery blue hair  he walked away slowly grumbling “I guess I’ll put the groceries up and start dinner, damn lazy bums the both of ya”.  Gajeel was enjoying another beer pleased with his dinner creation. Meat, potatoes, and assorted vegetables were creating a delightful aroma in the oven preparing to become a delectable soup. Reading himself to sit on the couch with his fourth beer, and ponder when the hell the punks upstairs planned on getting up he heard a quick series of knocks on the door. Gajeel straightened up instantly on alert. He wasn’t expecting company and after what had happened at the guild it was even more unlikely that someone would be coming over. He briefly wondered if it was the rest of Shadow Gear coming again to hassle him about the girl upstairs. He growled deep in his throat annoyed at the idea of having to talk to either of them again so soon. Gajeel waited  looking for any reasons to prepare for battle against what ever waited behind his front door. The knocks came again, this time slower and more forceful. Gajeel swung the door open standing tall and purposefully looking irritated.  A young man in council uniforms stood on Gajeel’s porch, his hand now shaking only inches away from the Iron Dragon Slayer's face where it had been knocking on a door only a moment before.  Gajeel refused to break the silence only glaring into the body before him. He wondered for  a moment if they had sent him a mute messenger as the quiet continued to stretch on. 
“Is this the residence of one Mr. Redfox?” the uniformed man all but squeaked. Gajeel knew better than to play with weaklings but damn if he wasn’t feeling grumpy and looking for a pinch of fun. Glancing down the Dragon Slayer hardened his glare and uncrossed his arms casually flexing his hands as he let some of his dragon slayer shadows build around him. Gajeel was tired from the rain, he was annoyed that his cat and brown eyes were cuddled and content into oblivion, and even more worried that she wouldn’t like his cooking. Someone had to pay, and right now it was the the poor soul in front of him. 
Gajeel leaned down so he was eye to eye with the man in front of him, “Yea, that'd be me”  he stated in a low menacing tone. The messenger obviously sweating was avoiding eye contact. 
Gajeel could smell fear induced sweat leaking from his body. 
“I have a message for you from the council sir”. 
Gajeel studied the man a moment longer, he sighed inwardly realizing he might actually scare the guy to death. Slowly he brought his shadows back into his body and reverted to his normal persona. “Why are you delivering a message, why not just send it in the mail?” Gajeel questioned roughly. 
The man a little more motivated to complete his job grabbed into his bag and pulled out a white envelope sealed with wax and stamped with the council insignia. “All I know sir is that it is labeled high importance and needed to be delivered in person.”
Gajeel grabbed the letter stuffing it into his pockets and glared back at the uniformed man in front of him. 
The man still feeling quite fearful stated “The message needs a response by next week. I’ll be back to deliver your response”. The man still not sure of the situation mumbled quickly “If that is all right I mean, Mr. Redfox”.
Gajeel had already lost interest in the exchange and simply responded “Yea that’d be fine, but come earlier I don’t want you so close to interrupting my dinner again”. 
The messenger obviously relieved bowed his courtesy and swiftly walked down the porch and through the gate at the end of the property. Gajeel waited out on his front porch to make sure the man had completely left. Satisfied he turned to walk back into his house stopping when we noticed how hard the wind was blowing. Viewing the world outside he noticed the dark skies covered by turbulent clouds, each heavy with their burden of rain waiting to release on the ground below. Sighing Gajeel stomped back into the house, grumpier than before knowing he was going to have one skittish exceed to deal with the majority of the night. Already forgetting the letter in his pocket and heading straight to the kitchen Gajeel strained his ears to check for movement upstairs, hearing nothing he decided to finish making dinner. If they weren’t up by then he would simply wake them up, he couldn't help but smile at the thought.  Levy awoke to the sound of thunder, and a small exceed in front of her shaking and buried within her arms for comfort. Slightly startled she glanced around the room, noticing no light filtering through the windows. I wonder how late it is she thought to herself stretching her legs out underneath the covers. 
His room was simple, large windows covered by charcoal grey curtains, hardwood floor that sported a large rug in the middle, his desk in the corner was now covered in Levy’s own books. As was his bookcase and the extra shelving she brought from Fairy Hills that was scattered around his house. Levy didn’t let her mind wander past why the majority of her things now resided here. She had just woken up and she wouldn’t allow herself to be dragged back into the pain and heartache as to why she no longer had a home.  As sadness struck her heart she considered just laying in bed all day again. At first she had been quite surprised to see the the nest that was Gajeel's bed. His bed was high off the ground held by an intricate iron frame, the mattress was firm but not hard. He had thick furs stretching across the mattress and then large soft blankets and pillows for every part of the bed. It was the most comfortable thing Levy had ever experienced, and she felt only slightly guilty at taking it away from the Iron Dragon Slayer. Her brown eyes heavy with sympathy pulled Lilly closer into herself, “Are you alright” she whispered gently? 
A moment passed for before chattering teeth respond “Ye-ss Levy, Iiiiii’m jjjjust fine, not scared of a little noise. Not a regular hhhhhhouse ccccat am I”?
Levy smiled at the brave facade “Of course you're not Lilly, I am a little worried myself though maybe we should head downstairs and look for Gajeel”?
Lily nodded furiously in agreement as Levy none too gracefully untangled herself from the mountain of blankets and pillows. She held Lily in her arms as she finally freed herself in twists and turns, nearly falling down as she jumped from the height of the bed. The top of the mattress leveled at Levy’s shoulders making it incredibly difficult to get in or out of.  Another crack of thunder shook the house as she regained her balance. She looked down at Lily whose form was scrunched against her, his small paws holding his unique bearlike ears. She gently scratched the top of his as she headed down the stairs.  Gajeel frowned as he heard the distinct sound of small feet hitting and stumbling around the floor in his room. He had really wanted to wake the duo up by scaring them out of their peaceful sleep. Making a mental note not to wait so long next time Gajeel went and grabbed three bowls from the cupboard. He listened as her quiet steps brought her down the stairs, she halted on the last step making him curious as to what she was doing. He waited. Ears searching the space for her next movement as he set the bowls down on the table. Finally her steps began and he felt his chest tighten as he realized this was the first time she had been out of the room in almost a week. He slapped himself mentally for never cleaning up his appearance after his trek into town, he honestly hadn’t thought she would be coming out of his room anytime soon. Especially not after the events that had led her here.  Trying to act nonchalant he pretended not to notice her arrival at the kitchen door, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see his cat wrapped up in her arms. He rolled his eyes at how Lily was using her for a security blanket, secretly wishing he could be pushed against her chest like that. He quickly shook his head before a flood of highly inappropriate fantasies could start playing. He had to play this right he chastised himself, Levy had been severely depressed and leaving the room was a big deal. He couldn’t screw this up, he reminded himself.  Levy knew Gajeel noticed her in the doorway, in fact she would bet he knew the moment she had gotten out of the bed. That was the only reason she hadn’t turned around at the bottom of the stairs when she realized she hadn’t even looked in a mirror before leaving the bedroom. She had cringed at the thought of what her hair was doing, and desperately wanted to bolt into the bathroom upstairs. Then again she knew he heard her and it would be weirder explaining why she cared how she looked in front of him.  That’s why she swallowed her pride and now stood looking into the kitchen where the Iron Dragon was obviously deep in thought. She smiled at the range of emotions that crossed his face before he finally settled on a very determined look. Levy couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were keeping him distracted from her. Finally noticing the smell that was coming from the pot on the stove she inhaled deeply setting off a series of growls in her stomach. “That smells amazing, what are you cooking” the bluenette asked working her way over to the table.  Pulled from his thoughts Gajeel finally looked up at her. He felt his features relax as he took in the sight of her. Her hair was a perfect mess, curls stuck out in crazy places more so than usual since she didn’t put on a headband. Her eyes showed the remnants of sleep still partially lidded and puffy from her crying the day before, his mouth turned into a slight frown when he also noticed the heavy bags under her eyes. Ignoring the urge to touch her he took in the rest of her. She wore a halter top sweater, with matching pajama shorts clinging to her little body, emphasizing her ass, hips and ugh Gajeel groaned inwardly looking away quickly. Damn piece of perfection is trying to kill me he thought to himself. Grabbing a bowl off the table he began to fill it with soup. “Soup, now sit yer ass down, when's the last time you ate today”? He asked as he listened to her stomach rumble.
“I don’t think I ate today” she stated bashfully, pulling herself up onto the iron chair. 
Lily equally excited for food wiggled out of Levy’s arms and walked across the table to his seat. Slimmer in build the chair was built high to account for Lily’s household form. 
“Are you trying to make my life difficult”? The man asked her accusingly as he placed  a bowl of soup and rice in front of her.
Levy smiled as she looked up at Gajeel, she understood this is how he cared for people. On the outside it might seem unsupportive and mean. But she knew this was him caring and being concerned for her well being. “I was reading a book, and I just lost track of the time. It took off so much quicker than I anticipated. Usually this author takes time to build a story but this time it just took off…” And Levy was gone, completely forgetting what the original question was that Gajeel asked. Now she was describing a world that had taken the place of her own today in vivid detail.  Gajeel was happy to see his Shrimp… no no no he chastised himself, the shrimp was talking like herself again. He wondered briefly if it was a ploy to get out of trouble for not eating today, but he didn’t mind. It was a pleasant surprise to hear her animated voice tonight, instead of her broken hearted sobs. He noticed how every time she went to take a bite she put her spoon back down so she could talk with her hands, as if that emphasized in some greater way whatever she was rambling about. Gajeel just loved watching the way her eyes lit up with passion, her cute little nose, and soft full pouty lips had him mesmerized. She was frantic now almost out of her chair. Her body leaned forward on the table hands waving erratically as she explained how the conflict of the story took place. Gajeel noticed in that moment that Levy was most definitely was not wearing a bra, he sputtered as he choked on the soup and rice he had been swallowing. This caused her to lean forward even more, revealing her two perfect little mounds each decorated with a perky pink nipple.
“Are you okay” Levy’s voiced asked him somewhere in the distance.
He most definitely was not okay, the swell in his pants told him the blood has rushed into his now twitching member at record speeds. He strained to stream words together as a scarlet blush began to creep up on his cheeks and brow “Fine, soup is too damn hot” he mumbled incoherently. 
Levy seemingly okay with this behavior settled back into her seat and began to eat. “That’s where I stopped reading and I only have about 300 pages left so I think I’m just going to finish it tonight”.
Gajeel grunted in response focusing on his soup. The little trio finished dinner while the storm raged on outside, rain hit the tin ceiling in continuous waves. The weather was bringing a slight chill into the house, so as Levy and Lily cleaned up the kitchen Gajeel decided to make a fire. The fireplace was raging when Levy and Lily entered the living room. Gajeel was sitting on the sofa, legs propped up on the coffee table admiring his work. The warmth was a welcome sensation to the chill in the rest of the house and Levy was thankful for the comforting home like feeling entering her soul. Levy balanced a book under her arm with a tea in one hand and a beer in the other. “I thought you might like a drink” she spoke tentatively handing the beer to the Iron Dragon.
“Good thinking shrimp” he said appreciatively taking the beer from her small hands. Levy set her tea on the table and took a seat next to the large man, without thinking she curled up against him so her back was resting on his side. Gajeel moved his arm so that it rested along side her on the couch and pulled the fur blanket from the back of the couch to cover her small body. She snuggled deeper into him and the couch using his arm as a headrest. Pulling her book above the covers she broke the silence “Did you have a good day today”? 
Gajeel thought of his trek in the rain and grumbled, his mind then flashed to the letter he forgot was in his pocket. “It was fine, boring as fucking ever."
Levy nodded her head in understanding leaning her head back so she could look up at Gajeel. “Thank you” she whispered so softly Gajeel still wasn't sure he heard her right. 
“Hmm”? He responded gruffly.
Voice cracking Levy whispered “For taking care of me, for being patient and letting me stay here.” Her brown eyes reflecting the glow of the fire began to fill up with tears. “I...I...I don’t know what I would have done if” and on cue the tears began to roll down her face, sobs started to creep up her body releasing through her mouth and shaking her along the way. Gajeel was frozen he hadn’t seen her cry since the first day she moved in. He knew it was happening late at night he would hear her, but he didn’t have a clue what to do. He was sad too, though he would never admit it he was also heartbroken. Learning that Metalicana was inside trying to save him from dragonification had caused a ceaseless worry that maybe his Father had seen every atrocity he had ever committed. Then having to abruptly say goodbye forever with no chance to ask questions and the guild disbanding right after, well Gajeel was kinda fucked up too. But when he looked at the heartbreak and pain that was suffocating this girl next to him he wasn’t sure he was even on the same emotional plane as her right now. Her cries were breaking him into a million pieces and he had unconsciously pulled away from her while glancing over at Lily who was curled up in front of the fireplace. The little black exceed was giving him a glare that could rival Erza. Gajeel rolled his eyes and looked away from the pointed face Lily was giving clearly saying “Comfort her stupid!”. 
Taking in a deep breath Gajeel pulled Levy and her blanket up onto his lap, her sobs only increased and he looked at Lily even more panicked then he was before. The black exceed simply nodded his head in approval, forcing the very confused man to groan mentally. Pulling the blunette into his chest and wrapping his large studded arms around her, he gently rubbed her back with one hand and kept her pulled tight with the other. “Shrimp, I know that things happened all of a sudden.” Struggling to find words that could convey what he wanted to say he continued. “ Look no one did anything wrong. Master is just trying to do what's best for everyone. A lot of crazy things happened in a short amount of time.” Ugh he wanted to slap himself how in the fuck was this so hard. “Shortcake you don’t have to thank me for anything, you didn’t leave my side after we kicked all those demon asses. I’m just returning the favor”. Her sobs had finally subdued and she looked up at him, her large brown eyes filled with uncertainty held his vision. She went to say something and he placed one finger gently on her lips “It doesn’t matter if the guild is gone. I told you once to stay by my side and I damn well meant it. We’ll figure this shit out Shrimp and until then you can stay here and have a home”. Gajeel was blushing furiously hoping that she wouldn't notice or blame the heat from the fire.
He was looking away thoroughly embarrassed at himself when he felt two arms wrap around his neck. She tossed a leg on each side of his body burying her head into his hair and giving a hug that was almost too tight around his neck. 
“Thank you” was  all she whispered.
“Whatever” he grumbled holding her body tightly in return. They sat like this for a moment before Gajeel’s second head started to get in the way. He panicked as he remembered how thin her pajama shorts were. Swearing inwardly he started to panic as his manhood pushed against his pants. Knowing she would feel his lust he promptly threw her to the other end of the couch.
“Eeeeeeeeep” she squealed at the sudden shock of being detached and tossed. “What the hell was that for?” the bluenette shouted shock written over her face.
“It was getting too hot” Gajeel eyed her apprehensively as he spoke. 
“Well just tell me to move, I’m not a rag doll you can just toss around!” She shouted even louder. “Gihihi. If you weren’t so damn tiny I wouldn’t be able to toss ya so easy. Sides don’t ya have a book to finish anyway?” 
Levy suddenly torn between her anger and anticipation to start reading huffed loudly turning away from Gajeel and plopping herself on the floor next to Lily. Deciding to lay down on her stomach she faced the fireplace and kicked her feet up in the air promptly ignoring the man on the couch. She smiled slightly knowing her lack of underwear under her shorts made her butt look perfect and felt confident the Iron Dragon would think the same. Gajeel was disappointed she wouldn’t be sitting against him, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t just poke her with that and pretend it was no big deal. Sighing he glanced down at her already lost in her book. He knew mentioning her love for reading would distract her from her anger. He took her in while she wasn’t looking, her slender yet toned arms supporting her upper body, her face ranging in emotions as her eyes swept back and forth from reading, her slender body and that underwear less ass….he did a double take searching for that little line shaping where her undergarments should be. He didn’t see it, he couldn’t find it. What the fuck Shorty he thought to himself. His erection came back to life and he groaned, screaming internally he remembered she had been sitting on him a leg on each side with only a wispy bit of material between her and nakedness. Gajeel could feel his blood pressure rising, his instincts to snatch her away into his bed were crashing against his common sense. He closed his eyes and calculated how long he could wait down in the living room before saying he needed to use the bathroom so he could promptly jerk off. 
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shervonfakhimi · 4 years
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The 2019-20 Los Angeles Lakers Appreciation Post
Just the other day, as I hunkered down buried by blankets flipping through Bill Simmons’ ‘The Book of Basketball’ with the swipe of my finger on my Google tablet, it had me thinking about this NBA season that has been put on pause as if franchise mode from NBA 2K had come to life. He talked about ‘the secret’ to winning championships, a secret he learned from NBA legend Isiah Thomas. How the key to winning basketball games is not about basketball. How a team needs star players and to then be surrounded by players who not only fit those stars but accepted the roles designed for them. It was a quick and depressing reminder that this season’s Laker team had all of those ingredients, yet might not be able to have the opportunity to go hoist the golden Larry O’Brien trophy. And if they can’t, I wanted to take some time to thank and appreciate them for arguably the most fun Laker season I’ve ever experienced.
As last season’s team floundered from a chemistry perspective from paralyzing trade rumors, this year’s team seemingly made it their quest not to follow suit. Head honcho Rob Pelinka made it his mission to find veterans to fit the team this summer after acquiring Anthony Davis, and nailed it, adding the likes of Danny Green, Jared Dudley, Avery Bradley, Dwight Howard, and others to the mix. The team gelled instantly, despite dealing with plenty of turbulence from the start of the season with plenty more (sadly) coming along the way. Danny Green, a man who has been around the block plenty during his NBA career, said on Zach Lowe’s podcast that this year’s team has been the most fun he’s had off the court. Jared Dudley, another player who knows his way around the league, echoed similar sentiments. This team genuinely loved each other and played like it. It was infectious (maybe not the best word choice right now but hey it’s the best I got) and permeated all the way into my room whenever I’d watch the games. That wasn’t more evident than this play in January against the Detroit Pistons, where Alex Caruso gets a deflection, Kyle Kuzma recovers the loose ball then throws it back to Caruso for him to throw down another ruthless dunk. Yet, behind him, two future first-ballot Hall of Famers in LeBron James and Dwight Howard are flying right there with him to celebrate and bask in the joy with Caruso. It’s my favorite play of the entire season. It perfectly captured the fun and joy this team has playing together.
Yet, as fun as this team was to watch, they were just as good as they were fun. They were just beginning to peak as a team. Every night it seemed someone not named LeBron James or Anthony Davis (more on them in a second) would step up. After coming back from injury, Avery Bradley added offense, like his 24 point performance against the Clippers where he gave Patrick Beverley a taste of his own medicine, to his crippling on-ball defense, shooting 41.8% on catch-and-shoot threes since January first. Danny Green always brought his defense. While his jumper waxed and waned, it didn’t stop him from hitting big shots like this against Dallas in November. Dwight Howard went from un-signed in August to dominating MVP candidate Nikola Jokic in his own building and giving the Lakers numerous sparks like that off the bench. Alex Caruso was both an analytics darling and fan favorite, routinely giving the Lakers a boost off the bench as he did in that same game against the Nuggets that was highlighted when talking about Dwight. JaVale McGee was playing the best defense of his Lakers career that’s been 1.5 seasons long now. Though Rajon Rondo and Kyle Kuzma were enigmatic this season, they both showed out for some big performances, against Oklahoma City (without James, Davis, and Green) and at home against Boston.
And then there are the stars. Let’s start with Anthony Davis, who was absolutely sensational. He literally made greatness look routine. Some games, like his 40-20 masterpiece against the Memphis Grizzlies or dropping 41 points and 9 rebounds in his return to New Orleans, felt louder than others, but he was just as impactful regardless. His chemistry with LeBron was palpable and frightening from the beginning and seemed to get even more devastating as the season progressed. Perhaps, even more, frightening: since January 1st, Anthony Davis shot 40.5% from three on 3.3 attempts per game. Not only was he more comfortable taking those shots, but he was unafraid to fly in clutch moments, hitting some big shots from three to either seal games or keep the Lakers in it. Maybe it was confidence, maybe it was getting over the shoulder injury that nagged AD the first half of the year off a missed dunk against Charlotte, but regardless, he was already a devastating scorer without the three-ball, and he was just beginning to add that to his repertoire. And adding that would’ve meant Davis could exploit his abnormal handle to go with his extra-terrestrial frame and athleticism as he did here against Al Horford. Davis has never shot above 34% from three for a season in his career. The thought of Davis as a lethal weapon from all three levels of the floor is… yeah, absolutely terrifying.
We haven’t even begun to talk about AD’s defense. He added Defensive Player of the Year caliber defense to a hefty offensive stat line. It didn’t matter who Davis guarded. Have him run around defending guards or banging against bigs, he’d shut them down. When LeBron and Anthony Davis shared the floor without Rajon Rondo or another big man, the Lakers boasted a robust 17.6 Net Rating, per NBA.com, including a staggering defensive rating of 92.1 points per 100 possessions. For context, the Milwaukee Bucks’ league-best defensive rating was 101.6. The Lakers’ defense, when it wasn’t weighed down by inconsistent bench play, turned absolutely dominant because of Davis’ dexterity to cover any hole presented to him. On top of that, not only would Davis routinely stifle possessions but he’d bring the ball up and just do the damn thing by himself to generate easy offense for the Lakers. While the Lakers had a negative net rating with Davis on the floor this season, they were beginning to turn it around once he played without James on the floor with him. Over the course of the season, the Lakers had a -3.2 Net Rating without James while Davis was on the floor, but had a +6.6 Net Rating in 169 minutes from February 1st on in that exact scenario. It wasn’t always pretty but it did the job in big games late in the season, and Davis was the biggest reason why. Davis’ future regarding another contract has suddenly become a little cloudy as to when and how that extension will come because of the financial impact this hiatus will have on the league, but this season proved Davis was worth all the trouble to acquire him and will be worth every penny he gets in the future. He was undoubtedly dominant.
Davis was dominant, yet he still wasn’t even the best player on the team. That honor would belong to the King. Obviously, as a Lakers fan, I’d love nothing more than to win a championship and for LeBron to win MVP, but that award is likely Giannis’ to lose. However, had the season not been postponed, there was an avenue for LeBron to swipe the MVP from the Greek Freak’s clutches after the roll LeBron went on after the All-Star break. He began that spree with a 32 point, seven assist win against the Grizzlies, a near triple-double against the Celtics and this game-winning Kobe-esque fadeaway post jumper over Jaylen Brown, sonning Zion Williamson’s New Orleans Pelicans not once but twice, outplaying Giannis Antetokounmpo and accepting the challenge of guarding him to the tune of a 37-8-8 masterpiece and win over the first place Bucks, and ending the streak with this Klutch And-1 bucket to beat the Clippers. Had the Lakers managed to swipe the best record in the NBA from the Bucks (they were only three games behind the Bucks with Giannis on track to miss 1-2 weeks. I’m not going to use this space to make an MVP argument, but one could certainly have been made for LeBron had he maintained that pace. LeBron led the league in assists. He showed up defensively. A good portion of the team’s chemistry could be attributed to James and his leadership, both on and off the floor. He showed again he’s the best player in the NBA (in my opinion).
Everything that championship teams need, this year’s Lakers team showed time and time again that they have it. Whether this season was the best chance the Lakers had at winning a title with this group is debatable, but the window was there. Those windows are so precious in the NBA and could go in the blink of an eye. Yet, due to extremely unfortunate circumstances, that window this season may get shut for nothing that has to do with basketball. That is nowhere near the top of the list of priorities to deal with right now as a society, but the uncertainty regarding the immediate future of the NBA and its potential champion is really disappointing as a fan. I hope a cure can be cultivated soon to not only save the numerous that are sick right now but get our beloved NBA back up and running. If it can come back, then great. But if it doesn’t, I thought it’d be prudent to show some love and appreciation to the most fun Laker team since the 2010 Championship team, because they deserve it for spreading their love and joy to the millions of Lakers fans across the globe, myself included.
P.S.: I hope everyone is safe and well during this tumultuous time. We’ll get through it. But in the meantime: STAY THE FUCK AT HOME!
Ok, Take Care!
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