#*banging on the table* AND I! I MUST CONFESS I STILL BELIEVE

[marciliedonato]

Not that kind of girl 2024 hear me out....

[ode2rin]

we need more rin thoughts from you pretty please 🎀 mimi please 🎀 help us get through this shitty economy please 🎀

since you asked so nicely 😭

you've heard my take on orange peel theory and now i present to you... itoshi rin and the hedgehog's dilemma :D i know i have a draft about this somewhere lmao anws here it goes!

hedgehog's dilemma is abt a group of hedgehogs who want to huddle together for warmth in the winter but can't stop themselves from sticking each other with their sharp spines. it's a metaphor for people wanting intimacy but inevitably push people away :D

i just think rin has this huge dilemma.. especially before the two of you became a couple.

btw there's just no way itoshi mf rin is confessing first, i'm sorry to break it to you rinnie lovers. no matter how painfully obvious that he likes you or no matter how much teasing he gets - there's just no way so you gotta take one for the team 🙏🏻 and when you confess? it's a hundred percent probability he's going to reject you and pushes you away. yup. tough life i know.

but it's not because he doesn't like you back. how can anyone not tell he likes you? he does a POOR job in hiding it, he thinks he's so slick and nonchalant but man is literally brooding next to you most of the time, scaring other people who shows the slightest hint of hitting on you. he knows your orders by heart, the type to walk to the waiter and say "they said NO pickles". offers you the first bite of his food. and not only does he know the sidewalk rule, but mf puts his hands in table and counter corners instinctively when you crouch down. even unconsciously leaving the space next to him for you to sit during group lunch breaks, and the twitch of his mouth when you sit beside him? a goner for you, really. bachira even told him he looks "mellow" when you're around (wc btw earned a lot of snickers in disbelief because itoshi rin??? mellow???? like, do we know the same person babe?)

i'm a firm believer that rin is a "fell first ➔ ignore it, it will pass it's just a stupid crush what am i?? 10?? ➔ SHIT i can't fucking ignore it *panics* ➔ then fell even harder (but denies it still)" type. when rin realized he likes you, he lets out a laugh in utter disbelief. like he just Laughed on his own... followed by an abundance of curse words... then his mind went blank for a minute then fear and self-doubt crept in.

for someone who has an ego as massive as the ocean, self-sabotage goes crazyyyy in that man's head i swear to god especially when it concerns you. you, ever so bright and pretty, you, who for some reason chose to look at him. rin will probably think at some point that you must be incredibly stupid to choose to like someone like him. actually, what the hell were you thinking. he was supposed to hide these shitty feelings until it leaves him and now you're saying you like him too!! what the hell is going to do now? push you away, that is.

but don't worry :3 just a tiny push, some missing you hours, and maybe some sprinkles of jealousy will make him come banging on your door and taking the rejection back 👍🏻

so yeah. getting together with rin is gonna be such a long ride because of his personal issues but god, does he make it so worth it when you're finally together.

[oneshotnewbie]

A little blurb with Kara Danvers, maybe something about betrayal please?

---

"Y/n! Please open the door, I know you're home." did you hear Kara screaming behind the door while she pleadingly banged her fist against the hard wood; almost pulling it off it's hinges. With tears in your eyes, you took another sip of your scotch and carefully placed the glass on the table before you pushed yourself off the sofa you were sitting on and moved towards the door.

Your heavy feet made the laminate crack under you before it went quiet again. You stood still in front of the door, one hand on the handle while the other rested flat on it - two voices in your head arguing whether you should open or keep it closed.

"Please."

A deep breath drawn through your lungs, you teared open the door and your girlfriend appeared in front of you, her eyes glittering in the light of your hallway- her mascara slightly smeared.

She must have cried too.

Kara found herself staring into your angry, bloodshot and glassy eyes. You had your arms crossed over your chest, almost showing her that she wasn't welcomed but without a word, the blonde stepped into your apartment, not taking her eyes off of you. The blonde followed your movements, trying to figure out what was going on inside your mind, but practically already knowing every single thought.

She knew that she was in the wrong, she should have confessed to you who she really was at the beginning of your relationship, just like she did with James and Winn. She knew that you would figure it out someday, but hadn’t expected that it would come so suddenly and wrong.

„What was the problem?“ you asked, your voice croaked in the middle of the sentence, breaking the unbearable silence in the room that was haunting both of you and Kara could tell that her girlfriend was on the verge of crying. Before she could answer in any way, you continued. "Six months. Six whole months and you lied to me every single day. Why?"

The blonde could feel the knot in her throat forming bigger. She didn't know what to say because in the end, she knew it didn't matter to you. You wouldn't believe it anyway and that killed her inside.

"I know that you are upset with me but-" and once again you interrupted her, you just couldn't stand her voice and her being there at the moment. „Who even are you?"

Kara´s features changed abruptly. Her pressed lips were now wide open while her eyes started to cover with tears as she stared at you in disbelief. She had no idea what to answer - your sentence had thrown her off course.

She broke out of her brief stupor and walked towards you full of expectation. Putting your hands in hers, she gripped them tightly and tried to catch your gaze, but to no avail. You looked desperately at her warm hands and the tears that fell on them and mixed together with hers.

"Please, Y/n. Don't do that." Fearfully, her heart was beating wildly in her chest so that you could even feel it in your hands. Gently she pulled your chin towards hers and wiped away individual tears that ran down your face. She was relieved when you let her do that without facing away - she took that as a good sign but her heart broke at your sight.

She never wanted to hurt you or even make you cry, she had sworn that to herself from the start.

"I need to time to think." you whispered and let go of her grip. Without looking at her, you turned around and let her stand there alone, while you walked back towards the couch where you picked up your half-full glass and drank the contents with one gulp.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You've hurt me and it feels like a betrayal, Kara. What do you think I mean by that?" you screamed and stared at her with a stiff but intrusive look. Kara was shocked at your behavior and was afraid of the next sentence that left your mouth. More tears started to leave her shimmering blue eyes. "I need time to find out whether I can and want this anymore."

[limitlessscion]

The classroom door slides open decisively. Suguru walks in with his backpack tossed over one shoulder and his grip firm on the strand. He looks down when he walks and he stops by his seat ( the middle one in the trio ) to let the strap slip off and his backpack gently touch the foot of his desk. His bangs sway left and right with each motion. There's a faint swelling under his eyes and the wetness in them attests that he's very, very drowsy. And puffy, still. Even though he smells of fresh shower and coffee.

It is the next day.

Behind his somber form, Shoko leans back in her chair for a glimpse at Satoru's expression — and Suguru stands between them facing him with dark eyes, because he knows. In that moment, he is the prey caught between circling hyenas. Yaga-sensei will be here soon, he reminds himself, as a means to keep his composure when his lips part to break the palpable tension in the room.

" Good morning. " And he moves to sit; to pull his chair out and lean over and grab his notebook as if it's any other, normal day; and his lips purse. He looks up stoically, like a man on the line for execution. Let them come. The rain of bullets; the jokes about his drinking incident last night ....

Satoru was nursing a mug of coffee between his hands, chin resting on his desk as he stole what few extra minutes of rest he could ( Yaga-sensei will give up on telling him to stop eating and drinking in the classroom eventually, surely. ) His eyes were hidden behind his extra-dark pair of glasses today, white hair sticking up in odd directions suggesting he'd slept with it wet and hadn't bothered combing it upon waking.

Well, perhaps waking isn't the right word when he never fell asleep last night in the first place.

He felt Suguru's approach before he'd hear the footsteps and the eventual opening of the door, and with a tired yawn he drained the mug in one go just as his friend entered. He sat up straight, alert, all signs of exhaustion vanishing with a long stretch and then a futile attempt to pat his hair down into some form of order.

"G'morning" "Good morning!" His and Shoko's cheerful replies layered over each other as they exchanged knowing looks. Unbeknownst to the other two though, Satoru's heart rate picked up as he repeated a mantra so strongly he'd likely manifest a curse if he didn't have such good control over his cursed energy: please don't remember last night, please don't remember last night, please don't remember—

( what would it mean if suguru's confession had been real last night, and not some alcohol-induced delirium? does alcohol not bring out honesty? or did it simply cause confusion? how would he have taken satoru's rejection? it was too much, it would be better if the exchange had simply been erased )

In the background, Shoko was casually complimenting Suguru's singing voice and terrific dancing skills, and Satoru sniggered along— but his heart wasn't really into it. Did Suguru look so worn down just from the late night and what must be an incredible hangover, or did his eyes look extra puffy for other reasons?

"Damn it..." Satoru sighed, sinking his face back down onto his table; this wasn't fun for some reason. "By the way Suguru: we cheated."

Shoko deflated at the admission, then with a shrug straightened in her chair. "Satoru's idea," and Satoru raised a hand lazily to accept the blame.

"Now before you get mad, do note that I have this—" Satoru flashed his phone at Suguru with a wag, showing a picture of him half naked and attempting to throw Yu into the air. In the corner of the frame was a blond blur, Kento running in to prevent the imminent disaster.

"For the record, I would have drunk you under the table even without that formula he's been working on," Shoko added and Satoru grunted in agreement.

"Can't believe you were dumb enough to try a second time—" Satoru straightened up suddenly, shoving his empty coffee mug into his desk and dropping his phone into his bag, warning the other two with a quiet hiss: "Sensei's coming."

They can continue this during lunch.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@miskatonicfolly​ asked: 🎥

Send 🎥 for a random scene of my muse’s life (No longer accepting)

Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, a seven-year-old Ikkaku plodded down the creaking wooden steps from the second floor of the cottage into the kitchen. She’d only woken up once last night, which was a record for her. She’d thought she’d heard shouting and a loud bang, but when she’d gotten up to peer outside her bedroom window, all she’d seen was darkness and fog. Well, it was still better than her usual nightmares about the woods and spiders and rats in the walls. Maybe the cat Gramps had got for the lighthouse was doing his job warding away evil, even if he was a grumpy thing.

There was commotion in the kitchen, and Ikkaku tentatively poked her head around the doorway to find her grandfather whistling a jaunty tune as he fussed over whatever he was cooking on the stove. He must have heard her footsteps because he quickly looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile. “Mornin’ lass! Sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah, good enough,” she said shyly, taking a seat at the old wooden table. Ikkaku still wasn’t used to cheerful greetings in the morning. Wasn’t used to anyone being happy to see her, really. Yes, Gramps had always been the exception to everyone else on the island, but even he hadn’t been kind and welcoming for the past year. He’d been too deep in mourning over Arashi’s death. But he was…happier now, she supposed. Ikkaku wondered what had changed.

Tomasu nodded before scowling at the smoke that had begun rising out of the frying pan. Damn it, third blueberry pancake he’d burned so far. He’d fended for himself for twenty years – surely cooking breakfast for his precious granddaughter shouldn’t be so hard! “Good, good. Nothin’ woke ya during the night, did it?”

“Well…I thought I heard a bang, but I guess it was just my imagination,” she confessed, nose wrinkling a bit at the smell of burnt batter.

Giving up on the pancake, Tomasu set aside the mangled pastry for Neptune to chow down on later. The giant dog was busy patrolling the coastline, making sure the bodies they’d dumped over the cliffs last night didn’t wash in with the tides. The old sailor planned on taking Ikkaku beach combing later and the last thing she needed to see were limbs only half-eaten by the sharks. “Ah, that was just me. There was uh…a bear got close to the lighthouse. Fired a shot to scare it off.”

“Bears come up here?” she asked, surprised. She thought the black bears lived closer to the orchards around Bangor Crater near the opposite side of the island.

Giving up on cooking and instead throwing together a bowl of blueberries and cream for Ikkaku’s breakfast, Tomasu quickly replied, “There’s one bear that still haunts me, lass. A demon polar bear lookin’ for revenge!” A blatant lie – that beast had died decades ago and had been no real demon. Just a bear who’d eaten a fruit that had cursed him with the ability to hate. But it was still better than the truth.

Those damn fanatics had tried to sneak in and kidnap Ikkaku again. Third time since she’d come to live with him. Tomasu couldn’t believe the Joras had undergone such an overwhelming industrial revolution with leaps and bounds in technology, but still clung to the backwards belief that killing an innocent child would solve all their problems.

Dark eyes went wide as Ikkaku gasped. “There’s a demon polar bear after you?” she asked, voice fearful.

“Aye, but don’t ya worry, sweetheart,” Tomasu reassured her, placing the bowl in front of her and dropping a kiss to her forehead. “This ol’ sea dog too ‘em down once, and I’ll do it again t’ keep ya safe.”

“Keep…me safe?” she asked tentatively, eyeing her grandfather with disbelief. No one wanted to keep her safe. She was a cursed child. Spawn of the Old Ones. She should have died in the womb, not her brother. Everyone said so. Everyone knew so.

Everyone but Gramps, apparently.

A large, warm, calloused hand ruffled her curls, and Ikkaku looked up to find her grandfather smiling down at her reassuringly. “Yeah. Don’t listen t’ what the crackpots back in town tell ya, lass; I’ve sailed the Grand Line and most of the North Blue and ya know what? Yer the most precious treasure I’ve laid my eyes on.”

“I am?”

His smile widened behind his bushy beard, and Ikkaku found her heart swelling with an emotion she hadn’t felt since her grandmother’s death. “More precious than a mountain full o’ silver! Now, eat yer breakfast – I’m gonna need yer help settin’ up some bear traps later.”

[borahae-777]

The Truth Untold -- Chapter 9: Even If I Try To Hide It Or Conceal It, It Can’t Be Erased

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 120k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

Jungkook is sitting on the floor, back leaning up against the foot of his bed. He’s been sitting here for hours staring at the wall, silent tears rolling down his face. Last night may very well have been the worst night of his life. He knows it was a big swing, but he couldn’t sit and pine away once he realized what was happening inside of him. He still feels Taehyung’s lips on his like a brand that’s permanently burned into his skin. At least he’ll always have that, Tae can’t take that from him.

“Me? What could I possibly have to confess?

“Looks like you have some soul searching of your own to do before you get up on your fucking high horse,” Yoongi scoffs. “I really want to be alone for now Kookie, please leave me alone.”

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Jimin is walking behind Yoongi as the elder opens the door to the dorm. They didn’t say a single word to each other the entire ride back from the Big Hit building, both completely lost in their thoughts. Jimin had been elated, on top of the world, in disbelief. Then it all came crashing down around them with Namjoon’s phone call. He wonders if the leader wants to talk to them separately or together and whether he’s including Taehyung and Jungkook. He can’t even bring himself to feel excited for and proud of his soulmate, his mind is running a million miles per hour. What if Namjoon forbids both relationships? Would he do that?

By now, he and Yoongi have gotten to the door of Namjoon and Taehyung’s room and they stop before knocking. Yoongi looks at him, gives him a small smile, and holds out his hand. Jimin can’t help but grin ear to ear as he reaches out and intertwines their fingers. Maybe this is going to be okay after all, maybe they can approach this as a unit. Yoongi knocks on the door and when Namjoon answers Jimin can’t help but be taken aback. The leader looks like he’s barely holding back a cauldron of simmering anger. Jimin stiffens and audibly gulps, Yoongi’s hand giving his one squeeze of solidarity.

“Come in. The other two are already here,” Namjoon mumbles, gritting his teeth.

He’s talking to all four of us together. This can’t be good.

Jimin and Yoongi walk into the room and see five chairs from the kitchen table set up in the room. Four on one side of the room, broken into pairs and one across from them. Taehyung and Jungkook are sitting in one set of chairs, not looking at or touching each other. Something about this feels like walking into a courtroom to face a judge, who knows what sentence Namjoon is going to hand out. Yoongi and Jimin cross the room and sit down, Taehyung showing just the hint of a smile as he sees the two holding hands.

“Okay. Now that we’re all here we can get started,” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs. “Right after I hung up the phone with Yoongi-hyung, I got a call from Bang PD-nim. He wants me in his office first thing tomorrow morning. He said something about cameras and a tape. I asked him what he was talking about, but he didn't believe that I genuinely knew nothing. Now, I have a feeling that this has something to do with one of you four. Is there anything anyone wants to tell me?”

Jimin is confused, what does this have to do with him and Yoongi? He looks over and sees Taehyung and Jungkook with horror painted across their faces and it clicks. The dressing room. There must have been a camera. He watches Tae’s face completely shutter closed at the same time as he feels Yoongi pull their hands apart. He looks over at the elder who is white as a sheet and leaning away from Jimin.

Oh no. This was such a huge fear for both of them. I can’t imagine how they’re both feeling…and poor Jungkook who probably still doesn’t know who he is or what he’s feeling.

Jimin is torn between concern for Taehyung and Jungkook and the gut-wrenching feeling that this is pushing Yoongi away from him all over again.

********

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Taehyung is sitting on his hands and slowly rocking back and forth in his chair. Having Namjoon walk in on them earlier had already scared him. He felt so guilty about pushing Jungkook away the moment he heard the door open, but he just wasn’t ready to come out to the rest of the group yet. After Namjoon had rushed out of the room without saying a word, Taehyung had sat back on top of Jungkook’s bed and put his head in his hands.

Jungkook had tried to sit next to him and console him, but Taehyung couldn’t relax into the younger man’s arms or say a single word. He simply looked at Jungkook’s worried face, stood up off the bed, and left the room. He didn’t want to go back to his own room incase Namjoon was there, so he locked himself in the bathroom and sat on the floor sobbing. He didn’t even get the time to revel in the fact that Jungkook had kissed him for the right reasons after all. It wasn’t long after that that he got a text from Namjoon telling him that he needed to be at a meeting in their room in a half hour. He let himself wallow for as long as he could before he went to the sink to wash his face and head to the meeting.

When he’d walked into the room, he saw Jungkook sitting in front of Namjoon with three empty chairs. He had no idea who else could’ve been summoned there, but since the chairs were paired off he assumed he should go and sit next to Jungkook. He started to apologize to Namjoon, but the leader held up a hand to silence him and told them to wait until everyone arrived. When he saw Yoongi and Jimin walk in holding hands, he felt a glimmer of joy for his soulmate before he realized that them being here likely meant they were similarly in trouble.

“…Jungkook, how did it not occur to you that there was probably a camera in that dressing room?” Taehyung mumbles so softly that he doesn’t know if anyone can even hear him.

“Hyung, I…I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry,” Jungkook’s voice sounds so ashamed and Taehyung looks up. His face is crestfallen and he can’t seem to look up from his lap.

“One of you needs to tell me exactly what happened. Right now,” Namjoon’s voice shows that he’s losing patience with them both.

Jungkook is the one who ends up explaining everything, starting with thinking Taehyung was dating someone and ending with Namjoon catching them this afternoon. Taehyung listens to the explanation without chiming in, unable to meet their leader’s eyes. He’s so embarrassed, so ashamed. He feels weak and selfish. Now the company is aware of what happened and he has no idea what to expect.

“Okay, listen up guys. PD-nim said that he’s the only one who has seen this footage. I can’t imagine he’s going to do anything but keep it to himself. However, all four of you need to cool off. That was an incredible risk you took, Jungkook. If any staff had seen this tape then they could have sold it to Dispatch or blackmailed us with it. We could have lost everything we worked for,” Namjoon scolded.

Taehyung hears a whimper from next to him and sees Jungkook’s hands trembling. He knows the maknae’s eyes are filling with tears and he has the strongest urge to console him, but knows he can’t. He needs to quash anything he feels for Jungkook…and fast. This is Korea. He was an idiot to believe he could have this, he had the right idea as a teenager. Love isn’t meant for him.

“Hyung, what does this have to do with us?” Jimin asks softly.

“Jimin-ah. Yoongi-Hyung. This applies to you too because while you may not have been taped, it’s still a risk that someone may see you two together. All four of you need to take some space right now while I find out what the company is going to do. Once I get back tomorrow, we need to loop in Hobi and Jin. We’ll have a family meeting. Everyone go to bed for right now.”

Taehyung hears a chair scraping and looks up. Yoongi is rushing out of the room without looking back and Jimin’s eyes are filling with tears. Jungkook is looking back and forth between his three hyungs, but Taehyung can’t bring himself to look him in the eye.

********

Yoongi gets back to his bedroom and Jin is thankfully already asleep. As he gets ready for bed, his mind races. How could he be so careless? He knew what he was feeling was wrong and dangerous. He should have pushed it all way down deep and let it go. Instead he buckled at the sight of Jimin in front of him. He still remembers the way the younger man’s lips felt and his body shudders.

No. That’s enough of that. This can never happen again. Time to be proactive.

Yoongi pulls out his phone and texts his usual hookup, apologizing for his panic attack and asking to set a date for the weekend. He figures they can have a do-over and maybe paparazzi will even find them, that would ensure that the world only sees him as being with women.

He feels a twinge of guilt in his stomach thinking about using her like that. It deepens as he thinks about what Jimin might think when he finds out. He tries to shake it off, this is for the best for everyone. As he drifts off to sleep, he hears Jimin’s tinkling laugh echo through his head.

********

This is the first time Jungkook wishes he didn’t have a room to himself. He’s curled on his side in his bed, tears rolling down his face. He stares at his desk chair, remembering the kiss he shared with Taehyung just a few hours ago.

He looks up at Taehyung in front of him when the elder asks if they can try another kiss. The look on Tae’s face makes his stomach do a somersault. He could get used to seeing that look. He tips his face up and feels a shaky hand land on his cheek. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. Warm breath hits his face as he feels Taehyung’s nose brush against his. “Kookie…”

Jungkook is still amazed at the way Tae’s mouth feels. He lets out a little whimper as their lips move against each other and he opens his mouth to the warmth and wetness. When he feels Taehyung’s tongue brush against his he stands up, pushing into the kiss with a surge of passion. He reaches out to run a hand against the soft skin of Tae’s cheek and feels amazed that this is really happening to him. Taehyung isn’t dating someone. He likes men. He likes JUNGKOOK. When feels the hand on his face run down his chest and land on his hip, a breath catches in his throat.

Suddenly, Taehyung pushes him away and Jungkook is confused at the sudden change in the air. He opens his eyes and sees Namjoon standing in the doorway.

A sob breaks from his chest and he buries his face in the pillow. The last few weeks have been a rollercoaster and he never saw it ending up here. He misses when his biggest fear was Taehyung not wanting him back. Being allowed a glimpse into what it was like to kiss and hold Tae just to lose it this way isn’t fair. Tae didn’t look at him once after Namjoon told them what had happened. He knows he’ll pull away again and has a feeling Yoongi is going to do the same to Jimin.

Jungkook decides that tomorrow he’ll seek Jimin out and see how he’s feeling. He thinks they’ll understand each other perfectly. The tape may be a scary thing, but losing Taehyung and Yoongi will be far worse.

********

The next morning Namjoon walks into the BigHit building with a pit in his stomach. His mind is torn completely in half. He knows that he did the right thing last night in putting space between the couples, but it felt awful. Watching everyone’s faces nearly broke him. Taehyung looked like he was going to vomit. Jungkook looked heartbroken. Jimin’s face had anxiety written all over it and Yoongi went to that dark and cold place inside his head. He’s not the bad guy in this, but it sure as hell feels like he is.

This is what’s best for the group as a whole. We can’t jeopardize everything we’ve worked for. The company has us over a barrel.

He gets to the conference room where he was told to meet the company head and knocks before he walks in. He sees the man sitting at the table alone, a tape sitting in front of him.

“Hello, sir.”

“Namjoon. Please take a seat,” the older man says with a sigh. He looks like he didn’t get a wink of sleep last night and that guilty feeling in Namjoon’s stomach is back. This is the man who has given him everything, who has believed in him since he was fourteen years old. He’s a member of their family too and Namjoon hasn’t really stopped to think how this might be impacting him as well. “I assume that you know what’s on this tape?”

“I do. I genuinely had no idea last night but after sitting down with the boys, they filled me in,” Namjoon tries to be as vague as possible so that he isn’t technically keeping anything a secret while still keeping Yoongi and Jimin out of this conversation.

“Do you realize that if anyone else but me had seen this then everything would be over? There’s an endless number of things that could have happened as a result of this tape. I don’t know how this came to be, but your lack of knowledge about it leads me to think it’s brand new. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened in the idol world, it’s not unheard of. However, everyone needs to remember what country we live in. You need to nip this in the bud. You’re their leader, it’s your job to protect everyone. I want the two of them kept separate in front of the cameras. No teaming up on Run episodes, no new joint choreography, no sitting next to each other in interviews. This can’t be allowed to grow. It’s new enough that pushing them apart now shouldn’t be as difficult for them as it would be if they’d managed to sneak this under our noses.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme? They’ve been best friends since day one, the fans like seeing them together. They’re the most popular ship in the group. What about fanservice and the skinship they’re used to seeing?” Namjoon worries about how the maknaes will feel about such severe measures.

“The fans will be okay. You can do no wrong with them by now. The most important thing is to avoid putting everyone at risk. I don’t like being the villain in their story, but it’s for their own good. You’re dismissed.”

Namjoon wearily stands up and shakes the boss’s hand. He trudges out of the office and down the hall, pulling out his phone to send a group text about the family meeting.

I hope I’m doing the right thing.

********

Hobi is sitting alone in the living room waiting for everyone else to arrive. He wonders what the family meeting could be about, him and Jin were the only two to answer the group text. That’s highly unusual and it makes him very nervous. He hears footsteps coming down the hallway and sits up straight, looking at the doorway. Yoongi.

“Hey, hyung. Do you know what this is all about?”

The elder merely grunts and sits next to him in silence. He knows better than to push Yoongi to say anything if he doesn’t want to, but he’s worried. They sit there in silence for what feels like hours before slowly everyone else files in. There are plenty of seats on the couches but Jungkook and Jimin choose to sit on the floor, both sets of eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Taehyung has bags under his eyes and Namjoon looks completely drained. Jin seems just as lost and confused as Hobi and the air is thick with tension.

“Hi everyone. We all have something very important to talk about. I went to the BigHit building this morning and was told that we need to make a few changes in our configuration. We need to loop Hobi and Jin in on the situation, but it’s not my place to do so. Who wants to tell them what’s been going on?” Namjoon starts, emotion coloring his voice.

Jimin and Jungkook look at each other and then look back down at their hands, staying silent. Yoongi and Taehyung both look at them and then each other, nodding once their eyes meet.

“I’ll start,” Yoongi sighs, “as you both know, I had a panic attack a few weeks ago. Well, I took Namjoon’s advice and decided to do something about it. Jimin and I kissed last night.”

Hobi can’t decide if he’s thrilled or shocked to hear about this development and wonders why he was kept in the dark in the first place when this is a huge moment impacting his two best friends. He’s about to open his mouth to ask questions when Taehyung speaks up.

“Jungkook and I also kissed. At Home Party. Unfortunately, a camera caught us. That’s why Bang PD-nim called Namjoon into the office.”

Hobi feels like he’s had his head dunked underwater and Jin doesn’t look to be faring any better. Yes, the maknaes have always been close and affectionate, but he never saw this coming. What is going on with everyone? What are the chances these two moments would coincide? He hears a sound and looks away from Taehyung. Jungkook has put his face in his hands and is quietly crying, Jimin’s hand rubbing circles on his back. Taehyung’s face looks like he’s in physical pain.

“Wow. Okay. Um. That’s a lot to process, but for now…what did the boss say Joonie?” Jin speaks up, which is more than Hobi can manage.

“He only knows about Jungkook and Taehyung. There’s no reason for him to know what happened with Yoongi and Jimin. I sat down with all four last night and told them to keep their distance for now. As hard as it’s going to be, that’s what I was told to make sure happens. Bang wants Taehyung and Jungkook kept separately from now on. No extra interaction in front of the cameras, no new choreography together, and nothing that might put us at risk. I’m sorry everyone, but any of this getting out isn’t just dangerous for the group but for the individuals involved even more so.”

The room falls so silent that you could hear a pin drop. The atmosphere is heavy and there’s a lot for everyone to process. Yoongi stands up abruptly and hurries out the front door, letting it slam behind him. Hobi stands up to follow him but Namjoon’s voice stops him.

“Let him go. You know he just needs time alone right now. We’re a family everyone, we’re going to be okay.”

Hobi isn’t so sure.

[thenovelartist]

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

[husbandohunter]

May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty

By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact

Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.

(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)

(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.

============================

Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.

The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.

While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.

And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?

"Hey babe, I'm home~"

In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...

"That's great."

He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.

Huh?

All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.

"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."

It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.

"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"

"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."

His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"

Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."

Today was not his day.

Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.

"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.

The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....

Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.

Not even the dishes were washed.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."

Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.

"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."

"I'm busy."

Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.

Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."

Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"

"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."

You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."

"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."

"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."

Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."

It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.

"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"

Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.

"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"

Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.

"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."

Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.

I should probably visit more often.

Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.

"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."

He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.

"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."

"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."

You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.

"Cheater," you mumbled.

He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."

Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"

You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.

Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."

Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.

If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?

Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.

Maybe one day.

He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.

One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.

Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.

[hyunsuks-beanie]

I Love You Too, Love

Bang Chan x reader; just some good ol' tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: My first attempt at writing a real scenario lmao. Do lmk how it was❤Also, it's funny how I'm an anti-romantic to the core, but it all goes out the window when it's Chan

Coming back home at night after a long day at uni/work, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle and watch a nice movie with Chan. Your best friend had been on tour with his group, Stray Kids, for the past three months, and the daily messages and FaceTime calls were not nearly enough to stop you from missing him like crazy. The teeny tiny (or so you insisted) crush that you had on him, didn't help either. You missed his voice, his tight hugs, the way he would always listen to rant about your day, the way he would always know what to say, the way his smile would light up your day, everything. While he did try to fill the gap by still listening to your rants on a daily basis on FaceTime, it just wasn't the same without him being there in person.

Sighing, you unlock your door, expecting to be met with pitch darkness. Instead, what you saw made you drop your bag to the floor, as tears welled up in your eyes. There, standing in the middle of your living room, was Chan, your best friend, who was supposed to be away for yet another month. Not able to believe your eyes, you pinch yourself, only to realize that he is indeed there, in the flesh, smiling at you as if you mean the world to him (unbeknownst to you, you most certainly do).

"Missed me?," he asks, and you suddenly find yourself running towards him at full speed, crashing into his chest and wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug ever. This causes Chan to slightly lose his balance, and makes him laugh heartily before placing a gentle kiss atop your head. "I missed you too, love. So so so much."

After staying like that for a solid two minutes, you finally break free, glaring up at him playfully. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?," You ask, trying your best to suppress your smile and appear angry. This causes him to chuckle before cheekily saying, "If I had told you, I wouldn't have been able to seen your true happiness at seeing me. If you already knew, you would probably have acted as if you're disgusted that I'm back, and we didn't want that now, did we?"

You shove his chest slightly, before finally turning your head towards the dining table, only to be met with the sight and aroma of all your favourite dishes, that Chan had apparently spent all evening trying to make. "You must be hungry. Freshen up and let's dig in, I'm starving," He says, pushing you lightly towards the bathroom. While getting changed, you finally register the fact that your heart is hammering in your chest, reminding you that the man standing in your living room means so much more to you than just your best friend.

Being away from Chan for months has made you realize that what you feel for him is much more than just a crush. You may very well be in love with him, but you're too scared to admit it because neither do you want to face rejection, nor can you bring yourself to put his career at risk. With these thoughts in mind, you finally exit the bathroom, sighing deeply to yourself.

You don't, however, notice that Chan too, is in a dilemma of his own. Before going on tour, he too, knew that he liked you. But being away from you made him realize that you are his home, and that he would much rather be with you than with anyone else. He has been planning to confess today, and has been trying to gauge your feelings ever since you came back home. Your sigh doesn't escape him, and, full of concern, he asks, "What's wrong, love? Got something on your mind? You know you can always tell me." Truth be told, he's worried and scared that you already know about his feelings, and don't reciprocate them. He fails to see your knees going week and a blush creeping up your cheeks at the nickname, and instead, all he notices is you giving him a small smile and saying, "Not at all Channie, I'm completely fine. Now let's eat up before the food goes cold."

Once you guys get a couple bites in, the awkward atmosphere starts easing once again. Chan tells you all about the tour and all the places he saw. "London was the best, but I wish you were there. You would have enjoyed the London Eye." "Well then, you'll have to take me there one day." You tell him about how life has been back in Seoul, ranting about your annoying professor/boss, and he tells you about all the small trinkets that he saw at souvenir shops that reminded him of you. "That charm bracelet was so you, I just had to buy it." "You didn't have to Chan. I don't need any gifts, having you back home is enough."

After dessert, you ask him if he'd stay the night, and he says that since he has the week off, the boys don't expect him to back at dorms until the following morning. "So.....you're staying?," You ask with a small smile tugging at your lips. He smiles back at you lovingly, and ruffles your hair before saying, "Yes love, I'm staying. Now let's watch a movie."

After picking the movie, you come back to sit on the couch next to Chan, throwing your legs across his lap. Now it's his turn to blush, but unlike him, you're not oblivious to his reddening cheeks. "Awww, is Channie blushing? Why? This isn't the first time I've thrown my legs over your lap," You chuckle, causing him to hide his face in his hands. "Yeah but, I've really missed this being away from you all this while," He smiles warmly.

The first half of the movie goes by with the both of you making random comments about it. At one particular scene where the characters are having nachos, Chan suddenly exclaims, "Salsa reminds me, the boys and I learnt a little Salsa during our time in Italy, and I really wanted to teach you some of the moves." "Me?," You ask, bewildered, causing Chan to become shy and start stuttering. "I-I m-mean if you w-want to. It's o-okay if y-you don't."

You're having a hard time trying not to melt into a puddle at his cuteness, as you force your mouth to open, and say, "No Chan, I'd love to." "Really?," He returns to his giggly self, as he gets up off the couch and extends his hand out for your to take. You smile and take his hand, and he brings you to the center of the room. "Just one sec," He says, pausing to pick the music on his phone. Once he's done, he places his phone on the table, and starts guiding you through the dance, one step at a time, with the movie being nothing more than a long-forgotten background noise. "Left foot forward, right foot backward. That's right, now dip, and come back. Now place your leg on my waist....," You both freeze at this, realizing what he just said. It's only then that you notice just how close you are to him, and the familiar feeling of your heart racing comes back. You both stare at each other, hypnotized, before your eyes flick to his lips and back up to his eyes. When he does the same, you timidly ask, "Can I kiss you?"

That's all it takes to break Chan out of his trance, as he crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You don't even notice that he is backing you up, until you feel your back hit the wall. His lips taste sweet and a little spicy, which you attribute to the food you had earlier. The kiss is soft but full of emotions, and even though it does seem a bit cliche, you can feel fireworks fly. The butterflies in your stomach every time you see Chan seem to have been replaced by a whole zoo, and you can't help but smile into the kiss. This causes Chan to break into a smile as well, before he gently lets go.

"I really want to keep kissing you because God have I been waiting to do that for years, but I feel like I need to get this off my chest first," He says, shy once again. "I like you, a hell lot. Actually no, screw that, I think I'm already in love with you. I've known this for a long time, but I was just scared to admit it. Being away from you during the tour made me realize that I want to be more than just 'best friends' with you. I want to call you 'mine,' and I want to be yours." "Oh Channie, you don't know how much I have wanted to hear you say that you love me too, this distance has been a wake-up call for me too, but I was just so scared of jeopardizing either our friendship, or your career. And I can't have either of those two." "Don't worry about my career, we'll find a way out love. Just say the word, say that you love me." To this, you gawk at him, before saying, "I gave you a speech on that just now, didn't I? Of course I love you." "Yeah but you didn't explicitly say that you love me, idiot. But now that you've said the right words, I legit feel like the happiest man on earth." You shove him slightly before wrapping your arms around his torso. "So, now that we've got our feelings sorted, what does that mean for us?" "Well, for starters, I think it means that my nickname for you just took on a literal meaning," Chan smirks. You pout at this, but then say, "I love you Channie." He places his chin in your head, and says, "I love you too, love."

[ncitygirls]

belong - chan x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.8k

when your lover called on you, the bells in your heart rung. chan invited you to his home for an evening spent together in the sweet peace of the one another’s company. upon your arrival, he greeted you with pure admiration in his eyes, a youthful wonderment sweeping over him as he gazed upon your person, pulling you into his embrace where you belong.

he took your hand, dusting his lips across your knuckles as he whispered, “i missed you, love.”

“and i you.” it’s not often you admit that time spent away from chan adds painfully to your longing, this much is evidenced by his wide eyed surprise. “i have spent every second counting down until we would meet again.”

“oh?” he gasps, believing not a word. “maybe hypnos might finally stop by now that you have come.”

“maybe breath will finally enter my lungs! and food settle in my stomach!”

“my love, if we are of such detriment to ourselves when apart,” he mumbles against your lips as he captures them sweetly. “then perhaps we mustn’t part again.”

“not ever?”

“not ever,” and so, with your indefinite union confirmed, chan ushers you into his home. you quickly note the sheet music that customarily garnishes every corner of the black oak table is now stacked neatly to the side. in their place are gold lined porcelain dinner plates, and sat atop them are a meal you know your lover did not prepare. “i know what you are readying yourself to say, so i feel i must confess something.”

“please do.”

“the lees did assist me with the preparation of this meal,” he lies as you turn to him. “you do not believe me? my love, i take great offence.”

“one can only find offence in the truth, chan.”

“fine,” he sighs, kindly untucking your seat. “the lees prepared the meal.” his confession is rewarded with the softest kiss to his dimpled cheek, deepening the indent greatly. “but i did prepare the table!”

“and had you not, the meal would not look half as inviting,” your praise, though clearly meant in jest, still colours the tips of his ears.

“lest you plan for my head to swell to twice its size, i suggest you stop.”

you press your hand to his cheek, the soft skin warming your palm as you turn his face towards you. “surely that is just more of you to love, is it not?”

“goodness. u are like a god sent spring during drought! love just pours from you. surely i am not this worthy,” he ponders aloud. he rests his forehead on yours, settling his eyes on your lips, he trains his pounding heart to beat in time with your breathless chortles. “what did I do to deserve you?”

as you shrug, you lean up, capturing his lips with yours, offering up the most delicate of pecks. the motion is dizzying, and the pace moreso. his fingers grip your side almost painfully, his wandering thumb finding the skin of your hip, drawing the tiniest circles. your tongue finally slips between his teeth before he pulls away. “the lees would not be happy to learn how we have treated their meal.”

“that you plated,” you remind, squeezing his arms in want. “and a plated meal can be reheated. hell, a plated meal can be unplated!”

“is this a want or a need?” chan suddenly asks, watching your teeth catch your lip. raising his thumb once dragging along the band of your knickers, he tugs at the trapped lip, freeing it from restraint. “i asked you a question.”

“it’s a want,” you admit shamefully, your hunger amplified with another whiff of the cooling dinner.

“a want can wait.” without another word, chan releases you, waiting patiently so he can tuck your seat in. once you are seated, he tucks himself in at the table’s head, reaching for your hand to his right. “go ahead, angel.”

you can only nod as you reach for your polished fork before scooping up the braised pork and buttered mash. he grins as you moan, the sound oddly innocent as you slowly begin to regain your appetite. he frees your hand as you reach for your knife, settling it instead on your knee, squeezing before he attacks his meal. as you make your own ways through dinner, you settle into a comfortable silence, both happily welcoming any intermittent interruptions. he speaks in part of his long work week spent apart from you, you speak in part of the gruelling work week spent apart from him. you both speak of family, sharing thoughtless yet meaningful tidings. you speak of friends, of gossip and news as he updates you on the lees’ plans to finally go into business together.

“how does hyunjin feel about it? he, minho and felix, were they not in talks about a dance company?” you speak with your lips perched on the rim of your glass, never forgetting a detail chan offers up. and though this at times works to his detriment, he cannot help but smile as he nods, gleeful at your continued interest in his companions.

“hyunjin wishes them well. of course he sulked for days, but he sees their passion and respects their wishes.” chan watches as you nod, acquainted well enough with the man to understand. “but he expects shares.”

“as he should!’ you punctuate your point with a final stab at your dinner, chewing the cooling carrot far too aggressively for how well it had been prepared.

“must everyone be compensated for broken promises?” he asks, reaching for your cleared dinner plate. “that hardly seems just.”

“is that not the very underpinnings of law?”

“so that makes it just?” he asks, returning to his seat with wine before pulling you onto his lap.

“well,” you start, grabbing your glass and straddling your lover. “it depends who is profiting.”

“consider this,” placing his wine down, he rests his open hands on your thighs, “when i make you mrs. bang—”

“when?”

“yes, when,” he emphasises with a sweet kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, trailing his nose up the column of your neck. “should you change your mind, must i hold you accountable?”

“i would never change my mind,” you state, rendering his analogy futile. “being mrs. bang would be the honour of a lifetime.”

“you are insufferable,” he breathes, his warming forehead pressed to your shoulder. “for the sake of my analogy, say that were not the case. say being mrs bang was unliveable, the biggest regret of one’s life. should you be accountable for leaving?”

“annulment is a fickle thing, chan. there are so many other factors involved.” you predict the question on his tongue, so you proceed to list them. “wealth, health, kin, religion, intimacy—”

“we won’t have that problem.”

“we won’t have any of those problems,” you correct. “will we, mr bang?”

“no,’ he agrees, pulling your frame further up his lap, “none.” there’s a pause where he regards you with an insurmountable confusion, as if regarding you for the first time again. “you never did tell me what I did to deserve you?”

“it isn’t for me to tell,” and therein lies his issue, his desperation to remedy his thanklessness, to express his unyielding gratitude for the blessing that is his lover. if he knew what he did, then he might know what to keep doing. “just enjoy me.”

“i intend to do just that,” he breathes against your skin, lips dragging along the bone of your jaw.

it is impossible not to squirm. his touch is at the best of times manageable, yet at the worst, insufferable. his fingernails press moons into your neck and thigh, firming his grip on your nape and dragging your hips down onto his crotch. the friction is hot and reeling, the slide of his cock along your clothed folds, slowly milking him whilst displaying his restraint. you detest his chosen pace, it is all the things you simultaneously love and loathe about your partner. his mature approach to love making and his need to drag out every moment beyond what is absolutely necessary. you begin setting your own pace, digging your heels into the ground as you roll against his length. the pleasure is short lived.

“it would serve you well to hold still,” he pours into your mouth, the beginnings of a smirk tainting even the purest parts of his face. he makes it increasingly difficult to follow his generous warning, as he frees your neck and grabs the table for leverage, dragging his groin against you, readily instigating your demise. “i can be fair, y/n. just tell me what it is you desire?”

“you, chan.”

“but you have all of me,” he reminds, guiding your hand to the warm space between you, tightening your grip around his heavy length. “all of me is yours, so speak plainly.”

“i want you to—“ he lets a single digit pass between your clothed folds, soaking the fabric and the pad of his finger. your eyes slowly follow his movements, the lone finger sucked into the warmth of his mouth. “chan, please.”

“how can you beg for that which you have not asked?”

“fuck me.” he reels at your embarrassment, the warmth on your cheeks warming his neck as you burrow out of view. “please,” your breathy plea fills the shell of his ear as you drag yourself along his lap. “is that not the reason you asked me here?”

his laughter fills the air as he kicks out his chair, your combined weight tugging at the carpet. “not entirely,” he admits candidly, lifting you both in a swift motion. “i do enjoy time spent in your company.”

“well, of course,” you agree, clinging to him as he moves through his home, covering more ground with every kiss he offers to your neck. “but my company can allow for a multitude of activities.”

“a multitude you say?” he places you gently atop his sheets, your weight forcing a sensual warm oak to waft through the room. his hands settle firmly by your head, his elbows collapsing to barely rest his weight on you, eliminating any and all space. his gleaming eyes bore into your own, the tip of his nose gliding along the bridge of your own. “you mightn’t believe it, but I am a simple man. i am happy to settle for one.”

“and which one might that be?”

his head lolls dumbly from left to right, allowing but a second to pass before he gives you his answer. rows of pearl capture his lip as he lowers himself, slow sensual grinds of his hips reveal his thoughts like no words could. his hooded eyes drink the creases in your face, the waves of pleasure coursing through you as he passes between your folds. the air thickens tenfold, your pants fanning his lips as you succumb to the movements of your lover.

“chan—“ your whine draws a devious grin on his face. you feel his palm rest on your cheek, his thumb running along your jaw down to your chin where he tugs, no words nor force required to tell you what he wants.

“may i?” he breathes into your mouth, tongue rolling in his own, collecting what you unknowingly crave. you nod once, leaning up to meet his lips as he leans back. the saliva gathered on his tongue slowly passes from between his lips into your open mouth. his eyes follow the string that connects you both as you swallow, your breath faltering as his eyes drag up to gaze at you. the hunger you’re met with would force your knees together, only his own keep them apart. “i’m going to give you what you want now,” he promises, fingers tugging at your panties. “and I know you can take it,” he affirms as he slides a finger in you, grinning as you whine. “i just need to make sure.”

he pumps his finger slowly, dragging the pad languidly against your walls, his thumb circling your clit. be laughs at the tremble in your thighs, how little restraint you have always exhibited. it has always been this way. your neediness bursting through the seams, rendering his own restraint powerless. especially as your fingers toy with his waistband, fist closing around his leaking tip. your palm rolls against his slit, the heel gathering his precum as you slide against his tip. he struggles with his weight over you, his forehead pressed to your own as he winds his length between your closed fist. his lips suck on your tongue, teeth clashing, when he feels a familiar ripple of heat pass through his veins.

“baby,” he huffs, stills his hips and his fingers. “is this what you want?”

“no,” you whine, humping against his hand and pumping him all the same. “but it is you i want,” you pant, chasing a high you know your lover will never give you. “it’s you i need.”

at that he pulls your hand from him, ready to fulfil his duty as your love, to give you all the things you want and need. he shows no haste removing his clothes, buckle hitting the floor, trousers and undergarments gently kicked down his legs. he takes a modicum of time on you however. his hands glide down your sides as he frees you of your sticky underwear, hiking up your skirt as he pumps his cock. lining himself up with your slit, he gazes down at you, his doting expression in stark contrast with his bare form.

“i love you, angel,” he breathes, eyes shining as he pecks at your cheek, nose, lips.

“and i you,” you breathe in kind, choking up as he sheathes himself within your walls. he sighs as you take him, your hot folds sucking him in as he slips his tongue between your lips, swallowing your whimpers. as he bottoms out he pulls away, watching your eyes gleam in want before he snaps his hips, denouncing all fatigue. “oh, chan—”

he grunts as his name falls off your tongue, your mind and body at a loss for thoughts besides those of your lover. as he pounds into you, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly, forcing your mouth open. unintelligible moans fill the air, though he hears you calling out for him. for the most part, he hears your lustful grumbles of inexplicable pleasure. he needn’t decipher them, nor does he try. he just basks in them, his groans falling into your open mouth, the odd praise passing between your lips as does his tongue, his spit, his praise, his tongue, his spit. he uses you, as you so wish. he fucks harder into you as you fall further into delirium, pleasure rippling through you with every snap of his hips. he watches you gasp for air, gulping around his saliva, watery eyes pleading for him.

“tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum,” you whine, clinging to his tired arms as he deepens his thrusts, rolling his length into you in short, sharp motions. “please, channie.”

he feels you clench around him, his movements growing slow with each passing second. there are moments when he slips, his fist guiding himself back to you, his fingers pressed to your stomach, thumb circling your clit. he feels you teeter to the edge. your pussy closing tighter as he gathers your release, sliding his thumb harshly over your clit, fucking even faster into you as you pass into ecstacsy. his teeth clench at the base of your throat, the combined stimulation drawing your orgasm from you. all that fills the air is your gargles, his name falling off your tongue in a chant, coated in gratitude and adoration. in love. chan follows you to euphoria. his hips stutter as you milk him. His arms weakened, he rests his forehead on your temple, chasing a high only you can conjure. one that draws out grunts of gratitude, of adoration. of love.

moments pass in sticky silence. pants filling the air as the afterglow sets in, the air stagnant as the pungent smell of sex fills the room. he welcomes the short seconds of peace, but he must break it.

“move in with me.” his motives on evenings like this were never too clear, not even to himself. but chan had not lied. every moment in your presence makes your absence all the more unthinkable. sleep comes easy when you are near. he dreams sweetly when you are here. he leans over to remove your blouse, freeing you from the damp material. as he does, he gazes into your eyes, speaking softly of all the nights you could spend doing just this. all the nights you have wasted not doing this. all the ways you could spend the nights in between. all the mornings he could spend with you and you with him. “you belong with me,” he breathes, lips pressed to your knuckles as his fingers trail up and down your arms. he stills, realising he might lull you into slumber, if his words had not already done so when you speak.

“how could i not know?” you ask, splitting his pretty face with a grin. “i belong with you.”

[nyxicnymph]

Writing request. What about the prompt ‘you’ve protected me, now it’s my turn’ - post-Season 1, Ivan Bruel protecting Marinette from a collapsing building during an Akuma attack after she helped him confess to Mylene. Fluff and Angst would be recommended in that he survives.

:0 thanks for requesting! I had a lot of fun with this! I can't believe this is like. the only thing I've written and posted for this fandom despite having been here for a long time! I really hope you like it!

Rating: teen+ Warnings: blood and injuries, possibly OOC Chat Noir but honestly the show does him dirty anyways, ending might be rushed or weird. Summary: read above <3 Notes: I... really really like writing Marinette's POV. Wordcount: 1878 words whoops

You’ve Protected Me, Now it’s My Turn

Marinette cursed her poor luck once again. An akuma just had to strike now?? While her class was on a field trip, and she couldn’t get away. Looks like it was time for the good old “get caught by the akuma” plan.

Except the Akuma was outside, and she was inside. And even for poor scatterbrained civilian Marinette, dashing outside just doesn’t make any sense, in addition to her being locked inside this room. She was going to have to resort to something else.

The Akuma was huge, and carelessly wrecking whatever might stand in it’s way. Marinette eyed it from where she was standing near Ivan and Mylene. Their group, including Juleka and Rose, had been sent away with a different guide to check out the music editing software that this company used to help boost big name artists like Jagged Stone or even XY to the top of the charts.

Juleka and Rose had had to leave for the restroom a few minutes before the akuma struck, and when it did, their guide panicked and left the room, taking the master key with him, and effectively locking these three in the room together.

Marinette bit her lip nervously as she watched the giant roam the street outside. The huge man was a shiny steel, but a small blue and red pin on his chest caught her eye. That had to be where the Akuma was.

“How are we supposed to get out of here?” Mylene asked suddenly, dragging Marinette out of her focus stupor. “Shouldn’t there have been an emergency release button in case of Akuma attacks?”

“That’s only a requirement for the newer buildings around here,” Ivan said. “This one hasn’t gotten around to adding them yet.”

“They should! This is dangerous! And terrifying…” she added, clinging closer to Ivan as a tremor went through the building.

Marinette hummed in thought. “We need to either pull off the keypad and mess with the wires so we can open the door, or break the door down with something. We’re too high up here.”

“I can’t believe our guide abandoned us!” Mylene shouted in righteous anger. “We’re just kids! Just because Ladybug can fix everything doesn’t mean we should be left alone in a dangerous situation.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed. The complacency of the adults in Paris was one thing that really frustrated her. If the Police would just work with her, she could expose or capture Hawkmoth! But they didn’t.

Ivan spoke up. “If Nino or Max were here, we could probably do the wires thing. But since they’re not…” He knocked on the door. “I can try to bust it down?”

“If it’s too hard, Ivan…” Marinette trailed off as he grabbed an empty table and started banging on the door.

She glanced outside and spotted a black speck dancing around the giant. Chat Noir had made it to the scene. But, of course, no Ladybug to be seen.

Marinette had left her phone at home that morning, something she hadn’t done on purpose but still regretted. Tikki was staring at her from her purse, clearly needing to say something, so Marinette turned to Mylene.

“Any updates on the Ladyblog?”

Mylene pulled it up. “She’s live streaming it!” The noise of the battle and Alya’s voice filled the room.

Marinette took her chance and dove under a desk. “I don’t know how to get out of here, Tikki!”

“You might have to take the chance of revealing yourself!”

Things must be bad if Tikki was saying that.

They had a quick talk, then Marinette tucked her purse away again, and stood up. “I didn’t find anything that could help-”

“Marinette, look out!” Mylene screamed as the building shook.

Ivan shoved Mylene under the closest deck before jumping for Marinette, sheltering her small body as the ceiling collapsed on top of them.

The dust cleared and Marinette’s ears rung. She pushed at Ivan’s shoulder as she coughed.

“Thank you.”

She was met with nothing more than a groan, and she panicked. She scrambled out from his protective grasp.

“Ivan?!”

His eyes opened slightly. “Marinette?”

Her panic increased as she saw the amount of building around them, and the wounds he had. “Stay awake!”

“Ivan!” Mylene yelled, clambering over from her desk. “Ivan, what were you thinking?!”

“Needed… to protect… Marinette…”

“Why?!” Both girls asked, Marinette’s panic getting worse by the second. She needed to get out of here, but she needed to know what he was talking about.

“She helped me with you… Protected me from myself… My turn…” His eyes slipped shut, and Mylene frantically shook him.

“He needs medical attention! Marinette! What are you doing?”

Marinette had made a decision, standing up from beside Ivan. “Keep him safe! And keep my secret!”

“Your secret?”

Marinette sprinted towards the now gaping hole in the wall, yelling her transformation phrase. Pink sparkles ran over her form, and by the time she jumped off, she was fully transformed into Ladybug.

Rage and fear coursed through her veins in tandem with adrenaline as she used her yoyo to speed towards the Akuma. She had to deal with this Akuma, now. She’d deal with the logistical nightmare of Mylene and possibly Ivan knowing her identity later.

She landed beside Chat Noir quickly, and before he could speak, she said. “No puns, I need to take him down right now.”

Her partner straightened up and nodded. He was not going to argue with the look on her face. “What can I do, Ladybug?”

“Let’s find out. LUCKY CHARM!”

A bag of flour fell out of the sky, and Ladybug had more sense than to catch it. She jumped back, and it fell at her feet with a dull “thunk”.

Chat Noir was just as confused as she was, and a little spooked. “Flour?”

She stared at it for a moment, and noticed on of the seams was close to busting. A plan formed in her mind.

“Swap weapons with me.” As he did, she explained the rest of her plan. “Take the yoyo, and swing up towards his face. Distract him and try to push him backwards, then I’ll trip him with this. His head is going to land on the sack of flour, which I’m going to put at the end of that road right there. The Akuma is in the blue and red pin, I’m almost certain of it. Cataclysm it once his vision is obscured.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Chat saluted, taking the spotted yoyo, and the sack of flour. “I’ll set this up for you, as well.”

“Fine. Be fast, he can’t spot you until you’re ready to distract him!”

Chat nodded and took off, sprinting across rooftops with more speed and agility than she would expect from someone carrying a bag of flour. She started making her way down, not quite to street level, but close.

She eyed the immense destruction around her as her earring beeped once. This was by far one of the most destructive akumas, if not the most. She watched Chat set the flour down in exactly the right spot, and flashed him a thumbs up. Then he zoomed off past her to go grab the giant’s attention.

He did his part splendidly, and as the giant stepped backwards, Ladybug pushed the button on the baton that extended it out, holding it down until it was lodged sturdily between two buildings.

It happened quickly.

The giant fell backwards, and landed on the flour sack, obscuring his vision. Chat tossed the yoyo back to her as he activated his cataclysm and destroyed the pin. Ladybug wasted no time in catching, cleansing, and releasing the akuma, and as he returned to normal, she sprinted for the deflated bag of flour.

She grabbed it, and without stopping, threw it into the air. “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

She watched it dissolve into millions of magical ladybugs, then joined Chat Noir beside the victim. She gave him a soft smile, noting his dirty work clothes, and a variety of scars. She offered his pin back to him, noting that it was a workers’ union pin, and everything clicked in her mind.

“The steelworks aren’t offering enough compensations, are they?” She asked. The man shook his head. “Then maybe I- we? -need to stop by with some authorities to help.” Her earring beeped for the second- no, the third -time, and she stood. “Leave a message on the Ladyblog, okay? I really have to go. Pound it!”

She fist bumped Chat Noir, and sprinted off, using her yoyo to get back to the building she’d started in as fast as possible.

She saw Mylene and Ivan by the window as she returned, and she nearly hesitated. She could try to pretend it hadn’t happened, but that wouldn’t be right. So she let them open the window for her, and she dropped the transformation as she landed on the floor.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, both of you,” she sighed in relief. 

Mylene hesitated. “Marinette…”

“Later,” she said, pointing to the door. “I’ll text you both about today, but our guide should be coming back any minute now. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course we won’t,” the couple said.

The guide returned then, and the rest of the field trip was promptly canceled, with everyone sent home to their families.

Marinette glanced at Adrien as he got into his family car. A part of her wished he’d been in that room with them, but it was already bad enough that Mylene and Ivan had been with her.

Still. As long as all her friends were okay, a little sacrifice was worth it.

And Marinette couldn’t lie to herself. It might be nice to have some people cover for her.

She’d just have to tell Chat Noir quickly.

She walked with Ivan and Mylene for most of the way, since they both lived in the same area as she did. Alya had long since split off, so there was no one questioning her about why she was with these two instead of her other friends.

“Can we talk about earlier?” Mylene whispered.

“You didn’t imagine it. It’s completely true. I’m technically not supposed to reveal to anyone, but even Tikki acknowledged that the situation would be incredibly hard to resolve if I didn’t.”

“Tikki?”

Marinette wordlessly opened her bag so Tikki could wave at the two of them over her cookie, before closing the bag. “She’s the source of the whole thing. No Tikki, no cool things.” Marinette purposefully worded her sentences so the people around them wouldn’t figure anything out.

“Don’t worry, Marinette, we won’t tell anyone. Cross our hearts,” Mylene said, Ivan nodding in agreement.

Marinette could have cried. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” She hugged them both. “I’m glad you’re both okay, I hope you know.”

The three of them stood in front of the Bakery like that for a few minutes, before Marinette pulled away. “I’ll bring you something before you guys go home. Consider it a ‘thank you’ gift.”

The couple smiled as she dashed inside and grabbed them each one of their favorite treats, paying her mama for them out of her own pocket.

And thus a deeper friendship was born.

~end~

[windblooms]

Hi!! Could you do headcanons of Diluc, Kayea, Childe and Zhongli with a s/o who is touch starved but is too shy to intimate physical affection please? Thank you!💙

decided to answer the two of these in the same ask since they have similar personalities for the reader, and they evolved into scenarios.  hopefully what i’ve written is all right!

edit: to the second anon, i’m sorry, i don’t know how people write more than 500 characters in asks. ㅠㅠ  is it maybe a submission . . . ?

childe:

as a very perceptive individual, childe would pick up on your hesitations relatively soon, however won’t say anything about them outright.  

while he may ask you if something’s wrong whenever you reach out, but self-consciously pull away, or when you’re on the verge of words but can’t bring yourself to speak, he won’t pry into your meekness. 

he knows that some people prefer to keep things to themselves or away from others – he’s a prime example of this himself.  so he doesn’t want to push you, but will continue to keep mental tabs on when you shrink away, or backtrack after you sound as if you’re going to ask him something.

if the trend continues for a while, he’ll eventually sit down to talk with you about it.  he’ll discuss with you patiently, not wanting to invade past things you might not want to share just yet, but he still tries to find the cause of your hesitancies so he can better understand you.

“there’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” he leans forward across the table, and rests his chin on his hand.  “you can tell me, you know.  i’ll try and help you with it.”

as you take your time to answer, he grows increasingly concerned, but still wears a poker face to not influence you as well.  across the table, he’ll slowly reach out his hand as a means of comfort, and clasp yours when you don’t pull away.

you begin to speak about your uncertainties, and childe listens intently.  ah, so that was it – now that you mention it, the two of you don’t hold hands much, or really touch each other.  he had assumed that’s how you preferred it, little to no physical touch.  but now that you’ve explained why you’ve concealed those wishes . . . 

“i’d be more than willing to hold you.”  childe’s words are soft, and he manages a small smile to encourage you.  as soon as your face flushes, though, he can tell that there’s something else you want to say.  so he pauses, expectant, but you still seem nervous.

he takes a gander and speaks.  “we can start off slow, if you want . . .  actually, anything you want, you can tell me.  you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed.”

from there, the two of you work out what you want.  you both agree to take it slow, since this will be a first for you; small touches against each other’s fingers as reassurance, and taps against his shoulder when you’re too nervous to outright ask for his attention.  he also has something of his own to suggest:

“there’s some custom that mondstadtians have,” childe ponders aloud suddenly.  “hm – something about tapping three times, meaning ‘i love you’?”

at his notion, you become bashful, and look down towards your lap.  you know where he’s going with this, and at your reaction, the snezhnayan chuckles, unfolding his hands from atop each other to squeeze yours in demonstration.

“one, two, three.  it’s just gonna be between us, all right?”

diluc:

diluc is arguably one of the most emotionally reserved characters in all of mondstadt.  sure, he’s got a sense of dry humor and wit whenever he feels snarky enough, but when it comes to personal sentiments?  he keeps them behind lock and key, with the exception of passive aggression.

if you’re self-conscious about asking for affection, such as when you’re about to reach out to tap at his hand yet pull back at the last instant, you find him looking at you expectatntly, his notorious half-lidded gaze fixated on you.  if there’s something you want, you’ll ask for it is his mentality, since he assumes that the two of you are both comfortable enough in your relationship to do so.  and relationships are built around trust.  so why are you hesitating?

that is to say, he doesn’t stare at you until you crack.  after a few seconds, he’ll look away, and resume whatever he was doing beforehand.  if it were anyone else, he’d most likely ask them verbally what they want, since there’s no use in prolonging the time, and he’s an impatient man. 

he makes a conscious effort to be more gentle with you.  he can’t quite tell if you appreciate it though especially in these scenarios, since you always chew at your lip and refrain from looking at him afterwards.

diluc will only allude to these instances.  he’ll ask “is there something you need?” or “is something the matter?”  he has no experience with physical affection of any sort, at least since his father all those years ago.  so he’d be quite lost with your circumstance; he doesn’t know at all what you want unless you make a verbal indication as to what it is. 

one day, in the privacy of his office, he senses your fingers just near his forearm.  diluc looks over in time to see you clasp his coat rather shakily, but your hold is there nonetheless.  much like usual, he’ll peer at you with a half-lidded gaze, although this time he addresses how skittish you appear. 

“something the matter?” he’ll say as per usual, but this time he isn’t vague; he’s referring to your sudden committance to reaching out as opposed to pulling away.

“ . . . just wanted to hold you.”  your confession is a mere whisper, but your boyfriend still hears it.  the two of you sit in silence for a bit, before he turns his body and puts his hand on the side of your head, pressing gently so that you lean flush against his arm. 

you’re speechless, however the circumstance doesn’t need words anymore.  content with you hugging his arm, and now understanding your wants, diluc continues to work as you drift asleep against him.  while there’s still a ways to go, as he’s sure that this isn’t the only desire you have, it’s surely a start.

kaeya:

the astute captain that he is, kaeya can hone into your desires with relative ease.

before you can retract your hand after reaching out, he’s already grasped it in his own.  you’re caught off-guard, not expecting his agility, but his grip isn’t firm or unpleasant; it’s gentle, as if he’s caring for glass.

he lowers his face so that the two of you are eye-level.  “no need to be shy.  it’s just us.”  kaeya’s reassurance is playful at first, until your contemplative silence queues him in on the severity of your timidness.

he’s concerned: is there something serious that’s bothering you?  he’d just assumed that you wanted to hold hands, or lean on each other.  for how long it takes you to speak, he’s thinking the worst: is a coworker bothering you?  are you ill with a fever?  kaeya’s eyebrows furrow, and he immediately speaks again.  “what’s wrong, precious?  tell me, please.”

looking up at him, you realize that he has the wrong impression.  tenderly enveloping your cheek with his hands, rubbing your skin with his thumbs, you sink into the affection – but he’s got the wrong idea.  

“i-it’s fine,” you begin, and he blinks rapidly.  “just . . . wanted to, uh,” you nudge further into his hands, and squeeze his arms gently, “ . . . touch you.”

ah.  your meekness makes sense now, although considering your personality, his initial guesses probably wouldn’t have been far off.  nevertheless, kaeya indulges you, even if you both continue the circumstance in silence.  it’s evident that you’ve been holding back this request for a while, and as much as he loves to tease and would like to in this moment, he doesn’t believe now is an appropriate time.

so, kaeya continues to stroke your face, soothing away your nerves.  his other hand clasps yours in your lap, giving you the time and affection you crave.  

he finds your vulnerability endearing, but there’s guilt on his conscience: why have you been nervous to approach him about this, and why did he not pick up on it sooner?  not that he expects you to come for him for everything – kaeya just theorizes that there must be some reason as to why you appear so touch-starved, and he’s thinking the worst about such a reason.

“feeling better?”  he inquires, still cradling your face, and he pulls you into a hug.  his warmth is reassuring to you – the security that you’ve longed for.  if this is what affection feels like, you’re not sure that you’d ever want to pull away.

“yeah.”  hesitantly, you lift your face from his chest, but your arms remain around his waist.  your boyfriend grins slightly, and ruffles your hair, pushing your bangs aside so he can kiss your forehead.

“tell me about it.  we can figure this out together.” 

zhongli:

about three weeks into your relationship is when zhongli receives questions from hu tao: “hey, you and y/n don’t touch each other at all.  i know you’re ‘professional’ and stuff, but jeez – not even hand-holding?  thought it’d get more exciting at this point.”

and while he initially thought of her remarks as rude – your relationship isn’t any of her business – it did prompt him to consider her words.

specifically, she’s right: while he’s generally busy at wangsheng, he strives to make time for you whenever possible.  and in that time, never once have either of you touched each other.  he’s never minded, since he’s admittedly gone without it for so long and is used to life without it – but it’s the modern age, and isn’t it customary for liyuens to . . . ?

so he takes it upon himself to ask you over dinner.  he’s made bamboo shoot soup for you tonight, and as you sit across the table from him, finishing the dish, he speaks so candidly it nearly makes you choke on your last bite.

“would you like to hold hands in the market tomorrow?”

“what?”

zhongli makes a strange face.  he knows you heard him, so why do you also look startled, and are averting your eyes?

he repeats himself nonetheless, and while you do answer him this time, it’s by mumbling under your breath.

“ – odd question,” is how you start, and your boyfriend folds his hands underneath his face, yet doesn’t rest his chin.  “um, sure.  yeah, sure . . . ”

you most definitely do not sound sure, but it’s in a way that further perplexes him.  you look . . . thrilled now?  he can see that you’re refraining from smiling – the corners of your mouth flutter – but why?  zhongli doesn’t recall saying anything that would be good news . . .

“is something the matter?” the archon supplies instead, to which you shake your head.  your hands are in your lap.

“ah, no.  what you said just came out of no where.”  an unconcealed smile from you now, and zhongli finds himself relaxing.  if you’re certain, that’s all he cares about.

he stands up, and prepares to take your dish to the kitchen.  before though, he makes sure to bring you up to your feet, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“may i kiss you?”  he asks, suddenly, unexpectedly.  he sees you nod, the slight pressing of your lips together, and gives them a quick peck before retreating; zhongli can still taste the slight bamboo left over.

when the two of you draw away, there’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks.  once more, you seem giddy, however this time he doesn’t have to ask why.

“i’ve never done this before.”  there’s trepidation in your voice that causes his brows to furrow slightly.  “so . . . it’s all right if we start out slow, right?”

“of course,” zhongli doesn’t hesitate to respond.  you could mean so many things, and he isn’t sure which you’re referring to: initiating physicality with him, or maybe that you’ve never had a partner before . . . ?  but he doesn't dwell on that.  “your comfort is what matters.”

in the market the next day, zhongli finds comfort in the slight tugs on his coat sleeve from your fingers, and the smile that beams on your visage.

[saturnsummer]

sunbae.

Sol meets into a familiar someone. This time, she’s not letting her chance pass again. 

ao3 link

notes: prompted by @thenerdywriter ! taking place a few years after the gang has graduated and started their jobs. it’s been such a joy writing this! (editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me.) if anyone else has prompts, do ask them in the submission box and i’ll get to you when i can! 

thank you @thenerdywriter​ for this!! i thought of many scenarios, like them being famous prosecutors, or getting married. but i felt that this would be an interesting twist. i hope you like it! thank you for this opportunity! 

words: 2256 words

Sol loves being a lawyer. Like, she really does.

Well, besides having to hustle in notes, write reports, follow her bosses to meetings where she just sits and listens, she loves it. 

After graduating with her grades just skimming the pass, she landed a job at a small law firm. She acts more like a secretary than a lawyer there, to be honest. But money is money. Her mother is getting older, and with Byeol expressing her interest in dancing, she couldn’t say no. 

Thus, she sucks it up and sends out other resumes. She still works part time on weekends at the book shop back in Hankuk University, so she guesses she’s managing well. She still lives in that dangerous alley, but it’s much safer now that she returns home every night. 

She tried to stay in contact with her study group. Jiho landed himself in a big law firm, and SolB (despite her mother’s wishes) is at another giant law firm. BokGi got picked up by a firm mostly doing human rights, and Yebeom is working at the company next to BokGi. (So much for besties.) Yeseul is at a small firm, doing mostly cases on women rights. 

Joon Hwi, on the other hand...

He was picked up by a law firm in the States. Immediately after graduation, he left for the States. Everyone stayed in contact, but with life catching up, weekly drinks slowed to a meeting every other month. Yeseul and Sol still meet fairly regularly, but Sol can’t help but to feel empty when she notices Joon Hwi is missing. 

Everyone feels it, but she feels it the most.

-----

Sol can’t deny her feelings. When she saw him in Professor Yang’s lecture as he picked up her highlighter and gave her a sweet smile, she felt time freeze. Later on, as they became study buddies, she couldn’t help but sneak glances to observe his face when he taught her. She would always hitch her breath whenever he would lean towards her, or tease her with that smirk.

She has always thought that he returned her feelings. The way he would walk her home some nights. How he would always send her a good morning and night text, and place cans of coffees on her table at the library. It didn’t take her long to realise that he stuck post its on her table in their third year every week. (His handwriting was too uniformed, and only he owned circular shaped ones.)

But on the day of Yeseul’s trial, Sol knew that Joon Hwi probably didn’t like her. That he wasn’t protecting her, but her roommate. Of course he would. He was offered to privately tutor her, and they were always top ranking students. She vaguely remembers international events where they both would represent Hankuk in conferences.

Sol didn’t mind it. She was never good enough for him anyways. On graduation, as they took photos and promised to keep in touch, Sol found her mouth dry when it came to Joon Hwi. She had no reason to. (After all, it was just Joon Hwi.) But she felt even more nervous than the time she took her exam.

She planned it out. She wrote a script and memorised it in her head. She wanted to let Joon Hwi know about how she felt, even if he didn’t feel the same. She wanted to thank him for being her friend, for being a support that she will always be grateful for. That wherever he goes, she will always support him in life.

But as they threw their caps in the air and took one last group photo, Joon Hwi slipped away, never to be seen in person again.

-----

Sol found out a week later about his job in the States. They kept in contact by messages and the occasional video calls with the group. But with the time difference, Joon Hwi started texting lesser. Sol was no less busier, managing Byeol and her mom’s age and slowly taking on her responsibilities as the breadwinner of the family.

She used to come home after work and sit outside at the wall, wondering if Joon Hwi could see her in the States at night from the security camera. She would put on her headphones and sit there, watching as people pass late at night. Sometimes, she would speak aloud, as if Joon Hwi could hear her through the camera.

Many days, she would sit outside with a bottle of soju and two cups. She would only drink from one, and the other would just be there as reminder of her good days, when she was a study and drunk regularly with her best confidante. She often ended those nights half-drunk, murmuring her troubles out loud. (As if Joon Hwi was there to listen.)

When Yebeom spilled the beans that Jiho and SolB were dating a year later, she couldn’t believe it. It was a total twist. Does Joon Hwi know? He must be hurt, she thinks. She wanted to text him, call even. But she decided against it. He’s probably too busy for her. 

And so Sol went about her mundane routine. She drank with an extra soju cup alone. Used circular post its. Ate ramyeon like her life depended on it.

And it went on.

-----

“Yah, kid!” Gollum smacks Sol’s arm with a freshly printed set of notes.

“You really had to?!” Sol barks back, soothing her arm and organising the copy room.

“When are you gonna stop working? You’re an adult! You’ve got your degree!” Gollum asks, shoving another stack of papers in the copier machine. Sol sighs.

“Till I get out of this job and move on to a better one. God, I’m still pathetic, aren’t I?” She cries out as she carries a stack of books to the door.

“When were you ever pathetic?” A gentle voice rings as Sol stops dead in her tracks. That voice. The voice that she can’t help but miss. The voice that lectured to her about law and her health every other day. Raising her eyes, she meets his familiar handsome face with his hair pushed back out of the way, different from the bangs he once had in school. His brown eyes crinkle. 

“Joon…?” She asks breathlessly, still taking in his presence.

“Hello, sunbae.” He smirks. The same exact smirk she still remembers. Sol drops her stack of books to the table nearby and without warning, throws her arms around his neck. He stumbles backwards, but his hands rest gently on her waist, hugging the shorter woman closer to him. She inhaled his musky cologne, feeling his warmth wrap her body.

“I… I don’t get how you’re here. Aren’t you in the States?” She says softly, pulling away from the hug.

“Well, I was. I just got back.” He tells her. Peeking his head over, he waved to Gollum.

“Long time no see, Gollum! Mind you dismiss your staff early?” He cheekily asks, earning a swat from Sol. Gollum, to Sol’s surprise, nods and waves them away. Joon Hwi grins and takes her hand into his and grabs her purse in another before leading her out of school. (Gollum, meanwhile only grins. They better get together this time round, he thinks.)

-----

Joon gives her time to catch up with him and they take a stroll to the park nearby. He shares about his adventures in the States and the different cases he’s gotten. Some difficult, some interesting.

“So, what’s been going on?” Joon asks Sol.

Sol begins retelling about how the group has been doing. She retells BokGi’s and Yebeom’s offer and how they have lunch every other day. How Yeseul decided to want to fend for women abuse victims as well. However, she leaves Jiho and SolB dating for the last.

“Oh, um… I’m not sure if SolB has told you, but…” Sol trails off. Joon Hwi only tilts his head in confusion. Her eyes are uncertain and almost awkward.

“…That her and Jiho are dating?” Joon Hwi completes the sentence for her with enthusiasm.

“Wait, how did you know?”

“Jiho told me. Well, I encouraged Jiho.” He says, leaning back on the benches they sat on.

Now Sol was confused. Didn’t he like SolB? Why on earth is he encouraging Jiho? Her face contorts into a stage of loss and confusion. Joon Hwi only lets out a light chuckle.

“I don’t like SolB. I never did.” He answers her, as if he could hear her thoughts.

Sol freezes. So for years… he never had feelings for her? She feels like she’s back in law school, sitting with him in the empty study room when he leans in closer to look at her notes, closing the distance between. Her heart beats fast and she feels a sense of warmth rising to her face.

“Why? You thought I liked her, didn’t you?” Joon Hwi teases. She turns her face away, knowing that he can see her face blushing red.

“Whatever.” She grumbles just loud enough. Laughter fills her ears as she turns back around to pout at him. Soon enough, she’s suppressing a small smile as they lie back and look in the distance to their alma mater.

Sol sits in her thoughts for a few moments. She now knows that Joon Hwi doesn’t like her ex-roommate. He’s right next to her. He’s in Korea. He still remembers her. He still cares. 

But does he feel the same?

“Come, it’s getting late.” He says, taking her hand in his and pulling her up. 

Sol doesn’t notice the way his fingers are intertwined with hers. 

-----

Joon Hwi leads her down a familiar road, before getting three popsicles. Sol knows this road like routine, and can walk it blindfolded. But she lets him lead her. The entire time, she takes in his tall figure. His broad shoulders. How so many years later, she’s still in love with this very man. No matter how many men tried to flirt and confessed to her, she couldn’t return her feelings.

Because Han Joon Hwi had stolen hers to begin with. 

“Is Byeol home?” Joon Hwi asks, as they stop at her front door. As if on cue, a much taller girl emerges from the door, dressed in a simple shirt and shorts, hair pulled back with a large clip. 

“Oppa!” Byeol’s face lights up as Joon Hwi slightly bends to give her a warm hug. Byeol crashes into his arms and Joon Hwi swings her in a circle as Sol just laughs at their childishness. 

“You’ve grown taller, haven’t you, you cookie? And gotten so much prettier, like your sister.” He laughs, ruffling her hair. Handling her a popsicle, she flashes a grateful smile. Sol swats his arm, trying to not burn from embarrassment. 

“Unnie is still the prettiest to you, isn’t she?” Byeol asks as she opens her popsicle. Sol swerves around and is ready to smack Byeol for spouting nonsense, but Joon Hwi only laughs and pats her head. 

“You’re right. Your unnie is still the prettiest and smartest to me.” He says, his eyes locked on Sol, his smile still sweetly there. Sol is transported back in time to when she would catch Joon Hwi stare at her while eating her pickles and only smile at her as she happily eats. The days, that she’s now certain showed that he had feelings for her. Byeol looks at her sister, eyes locked on Joon Hwi and silently retreats back home with her half eaten popsicle.

“Joon, there’s something I need to say.” Sol mutters out loud. She has to do it now. She lost her chance years ago, and she's not losing it again. 

“Me too.” Joon Hwi says, his hands burying into his pockets, the way it does when he’s nervous. 

“No, please. I’ve waited years to tell you this. And I don’t want to screw this up because I know you probably think I’m still hung over old memories. And I don’t know when you are going to return to the States, cause I may never see you again. And then I’m gonna-” Sol is rambling as she feels the same nervousness every time she’s alone with him. 

But Joon Hwi’s lips cut her off. His hands cup her cheeks as he brings her face nearer to him, feeling her soft lips on his. Sol is too shocked to react, but she kisses him back, her hands by her side unclenching from her balled up fists. They pull away, as Joon Hwi leans his forehead against hers. Their noses brush each other and their lips brush one another. 

“I love you, Han Joon Hwi. I have been, for the past years.” Sol whispers breathlessly.

“I know. And I love you too, Kang Sol.” He replies, before crashing against her lips once more. Sol feels the fireworks, as she finally feels her heart open.

Han Joon Hwi is here.

Han Joon Hwi loves her. 

-----

Joon Hwi leaves for the States a week later. A month later, he appears at Sol’s house, announcing that he will be shifting back home. He reconnects with everyone else in the group and the meetings become more frequent. Sol now drinks with another cup, filled by the person she loves. Instead of circular post its, she gets morning love messages. 

And at dinners, when she leans her head against Joon Hwi’s shoulder and looks at her intertwined fingers, she can’t help but feel her heart explode in so many emotions. 

She’s finally whole.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XVII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader and Zemo try to figure out what’s next.

Note: Hey, I banged this out quicker than expected. This part went longer than I expected to not as much happened as I thought hahaha. But here we go, again.(I will try to update the masterlist asap)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Two Summers Later

The sun raised beads of sweat across your brow, even in the shadow of the tree. A gentle breeze rolled over the grass now and again, a soft sort of heat. You laid across the blanket in your thin dress, a subtle movement beside you, low babbling and grasping fingers. You breathed in the scent of pollen and watched the lush leaves sway above.

The footsteps were light but he was careful not to frighten you. The baby girl murmured, over a year old now. She stood, unsteadily, and he caught her before she stumbled too far. His shadow loomed above you as he lifted Elina and smiled at her round cheeks.

“How is my little baroness?” he cooed as he bounced her and her gibberish grew louder as she grabbed at his pale tunic, “my lady?” he peered down at you, “you look… serene.”

“She likes to watch the cloud but it’s much too bright today,” you sat up and grabbed your cane from against the trunk. Lord Zemo offered his hand and helped you to your feet, “so we have watched the bloom instead.”

“She is getting big. More agile,” he commented as she tugged at his beard. He’d grown it over the winter but hadn’t cut it even in the heat. She liked to pet it and you suspected that was the reason for his obstinacy, “how will you keep up with her?”

“I have learned,” you poked him with the tip of your cane, “still learning.”

“Very quickly,” he praised, “the accent is better,” he pinched two fingers together, “I almost believe you a woman of this land.”

“Sometimes I believe it myself,” you went to the bench and sat heavily. Your hip never healed quite as it had been before so you limped with the carved wood capped with silver and made the best of it, “bring her here,” you set the can aside and pulled the thin scarf over your shoulders, “she should eat.”

“I told you, a wet nurse would do her better,” he neared and handed her over after a final peck on her cheek, “and she is getting older. She eats at the table now.”

“She will have some proper food when we get in,” you covered her against your chest and unlaced the front of your gown, “I like having her close.”

He nodded and paced through the grass. He removed his silk cap and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He was anxious as of late, you noticed only because it was an unusual trait for him. He sighed as he tucked his hat into his belt.

“Would you tell me?” you asked sharply as Elina latched.

“Tell you what?” he tilted his head coyly.

“What makes you uneasy?” you urged.

The tugging in your chest calmed you as you cradled your daughter close. When she was born, that had been difficult. She reminded you of her father then but now she was yours. She was the only gift he’d ever given you.

“It is… complicated,” he said with a frown, “I think it best we put the child down before we talk on it.”

“If you wish,” you relented, “Werner says she is doing well. I went to him this morning.”

“And you?” Zemo crossed his arms, “does he say you are doing well?”

You kept one arm around Elina and unthinkingly brushed the scar that stretched from your hairline to your chin, a rippled line along your cheek, one of a dozen markers of that fateful day. You still dreamed of it but they weren’t so much nightmares as vague memories.

“I will need the cane so long as I live,” you said and dropped your arm back under the scarf, “the scars will fade but not entirely. I suppose none of that matters.”

He nodded and rubbed his chin as he began to pace again, “back from the dead,” he mused, “we have a legend here, about a woman, a queen…” he went on, “she married a king who did not love her nor she him. He wanted another and he was… quite intent on it. So he accused her of adultery and witchery and passed on her the harshest sentence; she was drawn and quartered, pulled apart by horses.

“We have since done away with such punishments, too savage, but the legend goes that they buried the parts of her and the king married his lover on her grave. The gods saw it as an affront, the lies, the trial held in their names, the death imparted in the same vein, and then a mocking marriage on the site of their sins…

“In her casket, her body reformed though she still showed the signs of her fate. She climbed out of her resting place and visited her king in the night. She’d never done that before you see because he had no love for her, he never even tried, and she tore him piece by piece, worse even then the horses. Fingers, toes, tongue… balls, every bit of him plucked little by little until he was nothing.

“The legend never did say where she went after that, her grave was found disturbed and her body gone. Those women who suffer with violent or cruel men, they pray to her, they burn candles for her, and even, they kill their men for her.”

“Why are you saying all this?” you interrupted as you wiped up your chest and clumsily tied up the laces of your dress as Elina slobbered down it.

“Because I see you are reformed like the queen but I wonder, where is your sense of vengeance?”

You were quiet as you fixed your dress and lifted Elina above the scarf to pat her back. Soon she would no longer take the nipple and you were stubborn to keep it up for so long but the time passed and the thought of separation frightened you. Soon she would be old enough to realise how odd everything was and she would ask questions. You weren’t sure if you could ever answer them.

“Take her please,” you held her out and he came to lift her. He set her down on her feet instead and held her hand as she took some steps. She grew more bold by the minute. He bent as he ushered her around. You planted your cane in the ground and stood, “vengeance,” you said carefully, “I remember you warned me not to trust you, is that why? Are you ready to use me against him?”

“I always knew you were clever,” he smiled as Elina bent her legs and bounced in place. He chuckled at her and suddenly scooped her up. He tossed her and caught her as she trilled in excitement, “the time comes closer but the path is not clearer.”

You watched him as he stilled your daughter and balanced her against his side, “I don’t know if I can ever face him again,” you confessed.

“That is not what I ask,” he said, “it is not what I intend but...the winds begin to blow and I must let them carry me.”

You followed him as he set off towards the castle, The Tower Zemo, a bastion of brick among the grasslands. It was so tall one could see for miles in any direction and it could be seen in turn from just as far. He was patient as your cane plunked down after each step and he made silly faces at Elina.

“You have bided me longer than I expected. And her,” you said as you approached the open doors of the castle. The stairs were another task but you’d learned to take them with your hip.

“Her? You think I forsake her her father? She is nothing like him,” he replied as he waited at the tip of the steps, “and she is all the good parts of you. All that he didn’t take.”

“I am indebted to you, I am aware of that, but you do not attempt to collect your dues,” you challenged as you came level to him, “it makes me wary.”

“Would it be too… ridiculous to say that she is payment enough,” he smiled at your daughter, “she has brightened many of my days here.”

“It is because I know how things are. How it works among you noblemen,” you countered, “there is something more you want.”

“Tess,” he called and the pudgy maid appeared, “she is hungry, see that she is fed before she is laid down.”

“My lord,” Tess took the child eagerly and poked her nose playfully, “come here, little poppy.”

You watched her go as she began to sing to Elina. Her voice carried through the corridors as her wide hips swayed and her white hair wisped from under her cap. The old woman had seen your daughter into the world and since helped keep her there.

“So what is it you haven’t told me?” you turned on Zemo.

“Wouldn’t you like to sit?” he asked slyly.

“You are welcome to recline, sir, but I would hear you now. I’ve waited long enough,” you insisted.

“Well…” he took a deep breath and walked ahead of you. He turned back and clapped his hand together as the summer flowed in through the open doors, “I must send you away.”

“Send me away?” you gulped and looked to the door which Tess had just taken your daughter through.

“You will have Elina, I am not heartless,” he said, “though I will miss the little baroness.”

“Where are we going?” you quivered in relief.

“I have a castle on the lake, Heinrich’s Creek,” he explained, “it is a lovely little place. My mother’s favourite of my family’s holds. It is far away from court, further than this, and safe. Only my blood knows where it lies and… so only me and those who I would have escort you.”

“And why? Why do we have to go? Why now?” you prodded.

“I have received a letter from your King Samuel, co-signed by my own king. A party is on the road already and I have been once more tasked with hosting the negotiations. Your people are persistent. They will come here and I will represent the kingdom in these meetings and hopefully I can appease them quick enough that I needn’t worry about them sniffing around,” Zemo bristled, “I have not been allowed the privilege to know of who I host but any in the capital for the tournament, they would know the woman who gave them such a violent finale.”

“And after?”

“We will see how it unfolds first. It will be a chance to gain a measure of the climate. I might even hear after your former keeper, then I will decide what needs be done,” his dark eyes narrowed as mischief ticked in his cheek.

“Why?” you asked, “why cling to it?”

“I am as stubborn as he,” he said carefully, “I was willing to set it aside but he could not. And, my lady, if you haven’t the fire left for your vengeance then I can simply take it upon my own wrath. 

“Perhaps it is low of me but how he treated me, how he chased me out even if it did prove convenient to my deceit, it cannot be forgotten. And your people, the war I fought against them, they come to us for help and yet they still boast of their victory. I was there, no one won those battles.”

“So it is all a game of war?”

“Oh, no, I do not long for another war but… retribution leaves few options for the wronged,” he said.

You lowered your chin and moved around him. You sat on the stool by the wall and leaned back against the stone. “And if it put Elina in danger?”

“That is the last thing I want to do. That is why I would send you away.”

“But you said it yourself, you will have need for me… what then?”

He sniffed and his sole scuffed on the floor, “I promised you Elina’s safety, her life. You knew yours wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I know but… if you--”

“I have friends who can see to the girl. I have made arrangements for the little baroness.”

“But--”

“It was never a title I gave her lightly,” he intoned, “she has noble blood and I have no heir. She will grow, she will live, she will flourish.”

You gripped your cane tightly and ran your nails along your skirt, “when do we leave?”

“Within the month. The party will not be here so soon, their progress will be hampered by the heat. There are droughts in the west.”

“And we will be safe at the Creek?”

“Impenetrable,” he assured, “enjoy your time there with your daughter.”

“While it lasts, right?” you uttered.

He looked away grimly and brushed his knuckles against this beard, “we both knew this wouldn’t go on forever.”

“Yes, we knew,” you stood and held your hip, “but you can’t blame me for hoping it would.”

[imaginexxharry]

"Can you slow down?" For the writing prompts

Um Hi! It’s been awhile lol. I’ve been inspired to write again and loved how this turned out. Let me know what you think and send requests here. 

Masterlist 

___________

You don’t remember how you ended up like this. With Harry kissing you as you sit on top of the check out counter you’ve worked behind for hours on end. One second you were closing the bookstore and putting the new releases out for tomorrow. While Harry was doing his job at the end of the night sweeping the floors and cataloging books that found their way in the wrong section. Everything was normal and routine. You and Harry were just talking and about to lock up when he leaned in and kissed you.

It at first caught you off guard and you were confused, but you didn’t object. But the one thing you did know was that you always thought Harry was sweet and charming. You instantly had a crush on him the first day you started working at the bookstore a couple of months ago. He was always helpful when he trained you on how to operate the computer system and where certain books go. He had patience and never got mad when you would mess up the order logs. 

But he also made you incredibly nervous whenever he was around because he was insanely attractive. You had to remind yourself not to gawk at him during work hours. But you never thought he would ever take any interest in you. For months now you have become close friends but that’s all just friends.  You never thought it was more than that. But here you were kissing Harry. 

Correction- Harry kissed you and you couldn’t help but smile into it making Harry’s heart leap.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this'' You panted trying to catch your breath. It’s not like you didn’t want to kiss him. You really did but you were supposed to be locking up for the night.

Harry pulled back just for a split second “It’s okay I'm pretty much in charge now since Ronnie is out of town for a few weeks.”

He looks down at your swollen lips and back at your eyes and smirks before cupping your chin to connect your lips again. But you stop him.

“I know but I feel guilty not getting the work done” You admitted and Harry laughed. 

He pulled back completely to look at you. His eyes scanned your figure as you sat on top of the counter where you guys have helped customers buy books a million times. And here you were all perched upon it, eyes all doe-eyed and lips red. He thought you looked cute.

“What?” The way he was looking at you made your face heat up but also made you feel self-conscious.

“Nothing” he shakes his head “That’s why I like you Y/N always so hardworking.” 

“You like me?” You say not believing him. It’s not that you don’t think of yourself as someone worth liking. It’s just that Harry was always just your co-worker and friend, nothing else. 

“No, I just full-on kissed you because I hate your guts. And definitely not because I wanted to do that since the first day I started training you.” His eyes never left yours as he revealed this.

The bookstore was empty and all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat. Harry just confessed that he’s liked you since the first day you came here and you were stunned. 

“Oh?” 

“Oh what? Is it really that surprising?” Harry chuckles at how confused you look.

“I just- ummm.... I don’t know I didn’t think you liked me like that. You never showed interest in being anything but my friend ”  You crossed your legs and fiddled with your hands looking down.  

“Hmm” he hums looking around the room in deep thought. You were about to say something else when he decided to speak again.

“So all those times I stayed back to help you organize the bookshelf when it was my time to check out? Or when I would always bring you your favorite latte from the coffee shop across the street? Or all the times I wanted to spend time with you even when I finished training you?”

Harry places his hands on your knees and spreads them apart so he is standing between your legs now.

“Just to be clear you thought I did all that because I just wanted to be your friend?” He was so close you could feel his piercing green eyes bore into your own. His cute dimple was in full view because he was teasing, and he thought you were the most adorable thing he has ever laid his eyes on. You just wanted to lean forward and kiss him again, but you didn’t.

You sigh before saying, “I honestly really did. I just thought that you were being your nice self.” You say truthfully.

“I see..Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove to you that I don’t wanna be just your friend.” He looks down at your lips and lightly brushes your hair from your face before he closes the small space and kisses you again.

But this time it felt different. Harry was trying to show you how much he liked you. How much he wanted you. 

Your head was spinning and your whole body felt like it was on fire. You’ve never done anything like this before. You’ve never had a boyfriend and you’ve only had one other kiss. If you could even call it that from this douchey frat boy in college and it was an awful kiss. 

But you were even more nervous this time because your initial reaction was shock but now his lips felt familiar. But you pushed your nerves aside and brought your hands up to his face and deepened the kiss. Kissing Harry was magical and it felt right. You didn’t care that you were in the middle of a bookstore and someone could see you if they walked past the window. 

Harry’s mouth traced down to your neck and you felt like you were gonna fall off the counter if he kept making these beautiful attacks below your ear. And suddenly your body lifted off the table slightly as you tried to control this urge to move closer to him. Harry’s hands found your waist to keep you in place as his lips found your collar bone at the same time his hand went under your shirt. 

“Har-ry” you tried to say but it came out more like a whisper.

“Hmm?” He asks while still kissing you. You felt the vibration of his response throughout your whole body. Harry's warm hands were tracing your skin making you shudder and your mind started to race.

Suddenly you felt extremely nervous. You’ve never done anything like this before with a boy. You didn’t know what you were doing and everything was happening so fast. Even though everything Harry was doing felt wonderful you were still new with all things intimacy.

“Can you slow down?” You ask softly.

Seconds later Harry’s hands left your waist and he pulled away from you.

“Of course, I’m sorry if I read the situation wrong your lips are just so kissable” He was far away from you now and you suddenly wanted to take it all back because you missed his warm body next to yours.

“No! I mean no... trust me I do like you too and I really liked what we were just doing. I just I've never...done anything like that I just got a bit nervous is all.” 

“I make you nervous?” Harry smirks making you feel embarrassed so you put your hands over your warm face. He laughed at your reaction and pulled your hands away so he could see you.

“Nevermind, It’s stupid. I’m just overthinking it.” You say shrugging your shoulders

“Hey no you're not. I understand what you're saying. Y/N We can go as slow as you want you just have to tell me what you want and I’ll do it for you lovie” 

Your heart swelled from the fact that Harry didn’t make you feel bad for wanting to take things slow. He was so sweet and that nickname almost made your knees weak if you weren’t sitting down.

“I do really like kissing you so can we do more of just that?” You say shyly

“Your wish is my command” 

Kissing Harry the third time was definitely your favorite. He cupped your cheek in his hand and this time he kissed you slowly and passionately it took your breath away. You weren’t shocked or nervous this time all you felt was an overwhelming desire to bring him closer and never let him stop. You forgot you were in the bookstore all you could think about was Harry.

So you grabbed the collar of his shirt  and yanked him closer. He was caught off guard but he smiled into the kiss and laughed making you giggle. Which made it easy for him to slip his tongue into you. At that moment you never felt something so heavenly that you couldn’t control the small moan you let out as a reaction. 

A loud bang caused you both to break apart. And you both looked down at the stapler on the ground that one of you must have accidentally hit in your heat of passion. You both start laughing.

“Maybe it’s time we actually do our jobs and lock up.” Harry said and you frown wanting to keep kissing him, but you nodded your head.

“Yeah..we should probably stop making out and finish up.” You slid your hands down away from his collar and brought your hands to your lap.

“Well, I never said we couldn’t continue this later.” Harry smirks and takes your hand to help you off the counter.

“But we still have so much more to do.” You say looking at the bookstore.

“The night is still young Y/N and you’ll be surprised how fast I can get things done with you as my motivation.”

-------

I really hoped you liked it! Let me know your thoughts and send requests here

If you want to read more from me heres my Masterlist

[milkiane]

revelations and confessions

pairings: regulus black x reader

warnings: mentions of food, mention of abuse, manipulative parents, getting tied up, jily, implied wolfstar

word count: 5548

note: for @rcwenaclaw’s writing challenge — this is my favorite fic so far <3 s/o to @iwritesiriusly and @hellounicorn for listening to me rant and and rave about y/n and reggie, u’re the best mwah

“... and you would be married to the crowned heir of grimmauld by the end of the month,” your father declared.

if you have been listening to what you’ve been blindly agreeing to, you would have had the opportunity to assert your own appraisals of the sudden betrothal.

you choked on your food, earning concerned gasps and theatrical pats by the maids, “‘m fine, ‘m fine,”

your parents stared at you with iffy looks as you cleared your throat, “i thought we’ve agreed years ago that i wouldn’t be betrothed to some high-strung bloke i’ve never met before?”

your mother pursed her lips before giving you a well-mannered response, “well, dear, we ought to make some amends with that agreement,”

you just stared at her with a blank expression so she continued, “and we believe that it would be for the amelioration of our country, considering that the blacks are quite exceptional and-”

“and rich?” you smiled derisively, cutting her off.

your father looked around the royal maids and guards around the dining room, “may you excuse us for a moment?” to which they nodded and left.

he sighed, “look, y/n, i’m aware that you’re upset-”

you scoffed, “i am more than upset, father. you agreed that i will be married on my own time, on my own accord,”

“and i am the king, you ought to meet my commands.” your father bellowed, slamming the silver utensils on the table, making you and your mother flinch.

he cleared his throat, calming himself down, “tell your matron to arrange your attire for this week, we must meet the blacks tomorrow evening at the grand chateau, and i shan’t hear any more complaints.”

“yes, father,” you mumbled, excusing yourself from the table to make your way towards your bedroom, eyes becoming glassy from the upcoming tears.

you arrived at the chateau a few hours before the royal gathering with the blacks, meaning you would have enough time to devise an escape plan.

you haven’t spoken to your parents unless you’re absolutely required to, you know that you shouldn’t be disobeying them, but they should have known from just acknowledging your mindset and behavior.

you weren’t the usual prim and proper princess, no. you are your own person, you’re noble when strictly necessary, but, in all honesty, your personality was far from dainty.

you wouldn’t have chosen to have this life if you could. as fun as it was to play dress up in magnificent ball gowns, you would have chosen a life full of adventures, skinny jeans, crop tops, and dyed hair instead.

the matron knocked on your door, bringing in the gorgeous dress robes that you’re supposed to wear for later evening.

you gratefully smiled at her, asking her to give yourself some time to prepare by yourself until the formal reception.

as you hung it over with your other dresses and gowns, you walked towards the balcony, breathing in some fresh air. it had a clear view of the beautiful gardens of the chateau, the same balconies from your left and right.

you flopped yourself down on the queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling as you thought of possible ways to avoid the betrothal.

none of your ideas sounded good enough, so you turned on the television in front of your bed to distract yourself from the inevitable proposal.

flipping through the channels, you stopped to watch audrey hepburn’s roman holiday.

when you’ve watched the scene where she snuck out of the castle, an idea popped up in your head. you knew it was impossible, of course, but it was worth a shot.

you glanced at the clock, you still had at least an hour and a half before the matron would come back to get you.

grabbing the satchel you’ve bought at a fair once, you made your way towards the elegant bathroom. you shuffled through the things, you knew that if your mother found out about your clandestine possessions, she would go calling you atrocious for merlin knows how long.

you slipped on your cargo shorts and a halter top. you stared at your long hair, you knew that if you wanted to slip away easily from the guards’ line of vision, you had to make some adjustments.

you grabbed the scissors from the corner of the countertop, taking a deep breath before snipping a lengthy portion.

you let out a hushed squeal, laughing as you stared at the chopped-off hair. you continued cropping and trimming until your hair became an uneven bob cut.

not bad, you grinned, cutting a few more strands to add curtain bangs, impeccable.

you scuffled deeper into the bag, your hand retrieving a bagged pink wig. perfect.

you started packing a few essential needs in your satchel.

you looked out the window, the sun had set an hour ago, meaning it was dark out. which also means it would be easier for you to sneak out.

you had at least ten minutes before meeting the blacks so you immediately stared across the room, looking for something to act as a rope.

stopping at the closet of gowns, you groaned in reluctance. you loved your gowns too much but you wouldn’t risk getting married, so you grabbed the scissors, ripping them up and tying them together.

once you’ve ensured that it was tight enough, you fastened it around the huge handles of the door and threw your makeshift rope out the balcony.

when you heard the whispers and footsteps of people coming you hastily grabbed your bag and ran towards the balcony.

you carefully grabbed onto the silk, lowering yourself down.

a noise from your right caught your attention, making you freeze. you snapped your head to the balcony next to you and made eye contact with a boy doing the same thing.

your prolonged eye contact was cut short when the doors to your room burst open, making you yelp in surprise as your rope had a sudden shift.

you could hear your matron holler for the guards, so you briskly lowered yourself faster, the friction of the silk burning against your hands.

you landed on your feet the same time as the mysterious guy did.

he made a run for it, dodging the bushes and flowers across the garden. his trousers not giving him any justice.

you were not too far behind him, thanking merlin that your yoga and workout lessons paid off.

the yells of the guards caught your attention, surrounding you and the man in the middle.

they all pointed their blades at you, making you gulp.

there goes your escape plan.

“which one of you has the princess?” a guard shouted, shifting the lamp between you and him. each one of the men slowly closing in on you.

that’s when you realized that they weren’t your palace guards. they were merely the chateau’s security.

“does it look like we have a princess with us?” the boy beside you refuted, gesturing between the both of you.

ten guards.

one of them asked their superintendent, “what was the description given?”

“long h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, last seen wearing a peach nightgown,”

they turned their gaze back at you, one of them approaching you to take a good look, “wait a minute,”

you sucked in a breath, but before any of you could make a move, the guy grabbed your hand and ran, swerving through the distracted guards.

“oi!”

but you already had a head start, you were out of the gates and into the forest the moment they called for backup.

you ran, and ran, and ran.

the adrenaline coursing in your veins had done nothing to stop you from running, it made you feel so free, so alleviated.

so alleviated that you didn’t notice the huge rock that made you stumble, but before you could even hit the ground, the man caught your arm, pulling you against him.

and you were certain that time stopped when you finally locked eyes with him. specks of green and blue surrounding his alluring hazel eyes.

they said that when you meet someone for the first time, they would either be nothing more than another face amongst the crowds of memories or a face that would be burning at the back of your mind for a long time.

it was the latter.

the moonlight was shining over the both of you, the soft light making him look so ethereal. his celestial facial structure giving the famed sculptures a run for their money.

regulus looked at you in awe, neglecting the fact that you almost fell flat on your face. his gaze fell onto your gentle e/c eyes, the smooth arch of your nose, and the sleek curve of the cupid’s bow on your lips.

you would’ve loved staying in that position, admiring the young man for the first time every chance you would be given, but alas, the distant shouts of the guards forbade you from doing it any longer.

“who are you, anyway?” the guy asked. after successfully carrying out your escape plan, with your pink wig askew, he offered to buy you a mug of warm butterbeer at the nearby pub; the leaky cauldron.

you removed the wig from your head’s hold, ruffling your hair a bit to soothe the headache. your eyes searched around the room, looking for a possible new name.

“erm,” guest singer, liane moonshine, “miliane…” holyhead harpies quidditch poster, “harper.” you finished, “miliane harper, yeah,”

he eyed you suspiciously as he took a sip from his drink, “alright, miliane harper, what’re you doing sneaking out’f the princess’ bedroom like that?”

“i could ask you the same thing, stranger,” you mused, fiddling with the straps of your satchel.

“regulus,” he said, “call me regulus,”

“what were you doing sneaking out next door, regulus?”

“i asked you first,” he said, shooting you a pointed look.

thinking of a reasonable explanation, you mumbled, “stealing?” you winced, cursing yourself for hesitating.

“a’right, here’s the deal, miliane harper, because i know f’myself that you aren’t who you claim to be and you certainly weren’t there to steal,” he whispered, leaning in ‘til his face was a few inches away from yours, “now, ‘m gonna ask you one last time, who. are. you?”

you gulped, faintly murmuring your answer, “the crowned heiress of diagon.”

“salazar,” regulus cursed, “you’re princess y/n?”

you shushed him, shoving your hand to cover his mouth as a few heads turned to look at the both of you. you were certain that your parents have sent a search team to look for you by now.

“yes, but be quiet, would you?” you hissed, retracting your hand to curtain your face with your hair, avoiding the curious gazes amongst the patrons.

he blinked at you, leaning back on his chair. he observed your appearance for a bit before snorting, “your hair, it’s uneven!”

your face flushed a deep shade of red, your hand automatically clutching your hair. you scowled at him, “how long have you been aching to tell me that?”

he chuckled, “ever since you took off your wig,” seeing that you rolled your eyes, he continued, “don’t worry, y/n, you look quite beauteous, if i must say.”

“i don’t require you to flatter me, regulus,” you scoffed, grabbing your mug to take a drink, though before the rim of the mug reached your lips, regulus set a few galleons down on the table and spoke up, “as fun as it was to meet you, your highness, i’ve got some places to go,”

“what?”

“good luck with this endeavor of yours, but i mustn’t risk being one of your accomplices,” he quipped, wearing his sweater, “fare thee well.”

it took you a moment to finish your drink and grab your things before leaving the low-lit pub. your eyes searched amongst the throng of people, trying to catch the sight of his brunette curls.

you hurried beside him, trying to avoid bumping into the others. you grew quite fond of the handsome lad who ran with you, despite the fact that he was still nothing but an enigma to you.

“mind if i join you?” you sought, clasping your hands in front of you, walking side-by-side with him.

regulus groaned silently, he looked down at you and sarcastically replied, “it’s a free country,”

you rolled your eyes and responded with a retort of your own, “actually, it’s a monarchy occupied by foreign oppressors.”

he ignored your sardonic comment and asked you a question to defuse the gauche atmosphere, “why’d you run away, princess?”

you looked at him, “y’know, i’m not really obliged to answer your question,”

“i… am well aware of that,” he huffed amusingly, “but given the fact that we’re going merlin knows where, i’d rather have a conversation going than walking in utter silence.”

regulus had a gist of why you ran away, assuming that you had the same reason as him.

you laughed softly before staring at your white tennis shoes, “‘ve been betrothed, and i was s’pposed to meet the lucky bloke who’ll have my hand in marriage,”

regulus swallowed the lump in his throat.

“what about you, regulus?” you asked, “why were you running away?”

“oh,” he let out a nervous laugh, “i- stealing.”

you gave him a keen look, “i used that excuse not too long ago, if you’ve forgotten,”

he smiled tensely, “f’real though, the prince owed me something, and i’d be pleased if he returned the favor.”

you huffed, not sure if you’d believe him, but thankfully for regulus, you caught sight of your palace guards questioning some people about your whereabouts, “shit,”

you immediately linked your arm with his and whispered, “palace guards, let’s go. just- act normal,”

he carefully unhooked your hold, opting to snake his arm around your waist instead, evidently making both of you flustered.

you let out a sigh of relief when you passed by them without causing any havoc, though it was short-lived when one of them called out, “excuse me, sir, ma’am?”

the both of you continued walking, slightly hurrying your steps.

regulus hauled a carriage and helped you get in, “godric’s hollow, please,”

the guards left standing behind, one of them writing down the descriptions of the suspicious couple and the carriage they’re in.

“where are we?” you asked, looking up at the lovely cottage amongst the rows of houses.

regulus sighed, “godric’s hollow,” he walked up from the gate and knocked on their doorstep, stepping back to wait for someone to open the door.

you hummed, “alright, but what exactly’re we doing here?”

merlin must’ve been on his side again because before he could even reply, a beautiful red-headed woman opened the door.

she must’ve been taken aback for a moment because her eyebrows shot up and mouth agape. she stuttered, “i- regulus, hey,”

“evans,” he nodded politely, “is, erm, sirius with you?”

she licked her lips, “it’s actually potter now,” she showed her wedding ring, “and uhm, yes, give me a moment.”

she shuffled back inside, letting the door open but didn’t make a move to invite you in.

“she’s lovely,” you jutted out your bottom lip.

“reggie?” another man, another attractive man, whom you were assuming was sirius, inquired.

“sirius,” he greeted.

the tension was so thick that you could feel it enveloping you with warmth. or that may just be because of the additional presence of the bespectacled man behind the redhead.

“i don’t mean to be rude but are we all going to just stand in here,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, “or are you gonna let us in?”

sirius looked at you in wonder, “i- oh, yes, yeah!”

the man whose presence was still looming over, blinked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips as he huffed amusingly at his best friend, letting you in. you looked around the house, the atmosphere giving you a sense of comfort and a feeling of home you’ve never felt.

“james potter,” he grinned at you, “and this is my lovely wife, lily.”

“y/n l/n, the heiress of dia--” you paused, “actually, it’s just y/n. sorry, force of habit.” you chuckled sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as they looked at you in surprise.

you wondered if you could trust that they wouldn’t send you back to your kingdom.

“you’re the crowned princess of diagon?” lily spluttered.

you smiled bashfully, “i may or may not be?”

“merlin, what’re you doing here? guards’re all over the place, knocking on doors n’all,” sirius remarked, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i also may or may not have ran away?” you grinned, scrunching your nose which both the black brothers found quite endearing.

“i would love to continue the chit chat, but d’you mind letting us stay here for a while?” regulus interrupted, but before they could even answer, a knock was heard from the door, “diagon sovereignty wards, we’ve got a couple of questions to ask.”

you cursed silently, sirius and lily quietly ushered you into the living room whilst james went to get the door.

“good evening, sir, we’ve been alerted that you’ve had some contact with these people?” a guard asked, pulling up a sketch of you and regulus.

james smiled warmly, “i’m sorry, but i reckon you’ve got the wrong person. ‘tis just me and my wife, and my best mate in ‘ere,”

they nodded politely, “that’ll be all. thank you, sir, have a great evening.”

as soon as he closed the door, james sauntered back into the living room, looking at the worrying looks on your and regulus’ faces.

he and lily exchanged glances before she smiled softly, “i’ll go prepare the guest room.”

it was deep into the night, the potter household was surrounded by a quiet and serene atmosphere as the people living in it had already dozed off, yet you and regulus were far from drifting off to a dreamy slumber.

both of you had your backs against the headboard of the queen-sized bed you were supposed to share, staring into the void of nothingness as you let the comfortable aura rage around you.

“regulus?” you whispered. as if once you’ve spoken even a tad bit louder, the brittleness of the atmosphere would break.

he turned to look at you, “yeah?”

“what’s your biggest regret in life?” you wondered, voice laced with drowsiness. the adrenaline from a while ago slowly fading away, now being replaced with exhaustion.

regulus pondered for a moment. he had a lot of regrets, letting his parents abuse him and sirius, letting sirius just leave him alone in the dark and lonely castle, not living his best childhood. he had plenty, and lying to you was one of them.

he hummed, “i suppose being a coward,”

you fluffed your pillows and lowered yourself on the bed. you yawned, “i don’t think you’re a coward, regulus. after all, you just ran away with a princess.”

regulus looked at you fondly, watching as you slowly succumbed to sleep. he smiled softly, “yeah,”

your stay with the potters, and sirius, has been wonderful. you’ve felt more at home in godric’s hollow than in your palace. no amount of grandeur wealth would compare to the amount of love and belonging you’ve felt in your sojourn.

regulus has successfully managed to keep their mouths shut about him being a prince as well. the conversation and intention still went unnoticed by you.

you and lily have been the bestest of friends. the sweet girl that made you feel more at home than anyone else could, an evident friendship blossoming into a charming one.

james and sirius welcomed you into their arms as if you were one of their long-lost mates, and quite literally if you must say. they locked you beneath their armpits and ruffled your hair one game night.

you were convinced that james was the human embodiment of a ball of sunshine, never failing to put a smile on your faces. sirius had more of a flirty demeanor, which you’ve brushed off with a quip or two of your own.

“does the princess have a prince charming or do i have to step up?”

“not every prince is charming, sirius.”

and regulus— you’ve grown closer to regulus than you’ve ever had with anyone, getting to know each other more, spending more late nights talking about everything and nothing, and not that any of you would admit it, but inevitably falling in love was part of the list.

you and lily were in her room, she was lending you some clothes to wear as all of you have made a plan to go to the market fair in town.

james was on the phone with remus, asking him to meet up at the place whilst sirius and regulus were in the living room, catching up after a few years of not seeing each other.

sirius has grown quite fond of the princess. not that he was catching feelings, but a date wouldn’t sound too bad, if he must say, so he asked his brother, “d’you reckon y/n would fancy a date w’me? maybe i could bring her to hogsmeade,”

and to say that he was dumbstruck when he heard that was an understatement, “what? no, you can’t,”

sirius looked at him with a confused expression, “how come?”

regulus hesitated, “she’s… betrothed.”

the eldest black brother scoffed, “yeah, t’you, and she doesn’t even know that you’re that bloke,”

regulus shook his head, sitting up straight as he heard your giggles from upstairs, “just- don’t, sirius.”

padfoot grinned at his brother in realization, “by the love of merlin! you love her, don’t you?” he teased, bumping their shoulders together.

“let’s go, handsomes, i’m not getting any younger here!” you laughed. regulus thought you looked angelic, the white dress hugging your curves in the most surreal way possible, the smile on your face proving that any blue day would get better with just a glimpse of it.

“this isn’t over, reggie,” sirius sang mockingly, getting up and linking his arm with yours.

the market fair in godric’s hollow is incredibly enchanting. fairy lights were hanging above the booths, multitudes of colorful stalls, the smell of the amazing street food, and the bubbly spirits of the people mingling around had you in a state of awe.

you went in separate groups, lily with james, sirius went off to find remus, and you were stuck with regulus— not that you were complaining, really.

you dragged regulus by one of the stalls that sold clothes, wanting to buy a few to avoid borrowing more from lily.

you were currently strolling around with him, your shopping bags in his hold as he insisted to carry them for you.

whilst you stopped to look at the fancy daggers, regulus caught sight of a gorgeous necklace. convincing himself that it would only take a few minutes, he left your side and onto the booth to buy the jewelry for you.

once you’ve managed to choose a design, you paid for the dagger and strapped it on your thigh with the holster you bought, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

when he didn’t reply, you looked up to where he was standing just a few moments ago to find that he wasn’t by your side.

you crooned your neck to look around but instead of seeing him, you saw your palace guards slowly approaching you.

you cursed, turning around and running away from them, making them step up quickly and ran after you.

“regulus!” you called out, hoping that he’ll hear you.

“regulus!” you tried once more, and he finally heard you. he immediately pocketed the paid necklace and dropped the bags as he tried to run after you, “y/n!” but it was too late.

the guards were already surrounding you, two of them managed to carry you to a carriage while you thrashed around, “let me go! i don’t want to go back, please!” you cried, “regulus!”

regulus was running around the big plaza, trying to figure out where your voice was coming from.

the carriage was already a menacing dot as it continued to advance forward, leaving regulus frustrated and broken.

“what were you thinking running away like that?” your father barked, pacing back and forth on the castle’s lounge, “d’you know how ashamed we were when we found out that you snuck off? even more so whe-”

your father stopped talking when your mother gave him a stern look. an expression you know all too well when they didn’t want you to know something.

“it came to our attention that you ran away with regulus, yes?” your mother asked, giving you a tense smile.

you didn’t answer. looking at your parents with hatred as your eyes blurred with tears.

she sighed, “well, if you must know, he was the one who called for the guards. he knew about the huge amount of payment if someone gave you up. he contacted the palace guards before you even stepped foot in that repugnant marketplace.”

“no,” you let out a teary laughed, “regulus would never do that,”

he would never. especially after all those moments you’ve shared, those constant touches, the sneaky eye contacts. he would never.

“no? then where was he when you called for him?” your mother scoffed, a sly smirk on her face.

you glared at them, taking a shaky breath, “i-”

she tutted, “i’m not done just yet, my dear daughter. you will be married to lord riddle, on the contrary, seeing that the walburga and orion’s son was quite… negligent,”

“i will not be married to anyone!” you objected, “if there’s anyone i’d rather get married to, it would be regulus.”

your mother let out a cackle, “quite amusing if you asked me, dear, because regulus was the prince you were supposed to marry!”

you froze, managing to croak out a small, “what?”

your father chuckled, “oh, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you that?”

you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, “i hope you rot in hell.”

your mother scowled at you, “guards! bring her to the room.”

“i don’t need bodyguards surrounding me all the time, mother,” you spat, “i may be of the royal bloodline, but i am no weakling.”

“... and don’t forget to tie her up,” she smirked.

before you could even react, you were hauled up by your arms, screaming at them to let you go.

you made sure to give them a hard time while they walked up the stairs. once arriving at your room, they threw you on the carpeted floor with a right thump.

you flailed around, whimpering as they tied your arms and legs, “stop, stop, stop. please,” but they paid you no mind, leaving you alone in the dark.

after a few hours of trying to remove the rope from your limbs, and a few chaffings later, you ultimately gave up on trying. you didn’t know what your parents’ plan was but you were quite grateful for the noise and crashing outside your door.

crawling a bit towards your door, your forearm brushed against something rough on your thighs. you cursed yourself for being dense, and lifted your dress a bit, carefully grabbing your new rose gold dagger from its holster.

when you heard the jingling of your door, you hastily tried to cut the rope from your wrists.

you cussed as you dropped it on the floor, you tried to get a hold of it once more when the door suddenly burst open.

“y/n!” regulus breathed out in relief, he rushed by your side, grabbing your fallen dagger and cutting the ropes. your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, before turning your gaze to the man you’ve fallen in love with, the same man who lied to you.

sirius approached the both of you, trying to tell you to hurry up before the guards caught up with them, “let’s go!”

“are you alright?” regulus asked, cupping your face in his hands.

you glared at him, rubbing your arms to soothe the burning, “don’t touch me.”

you stood up, grabbing the dagger from his hand, and placed it back on your holster. you snatched your satchel from the floor and started packing a few necessities that could fit in.

regulus looked at you in confusion and hurt, standing up as you shuffled around the room, “what’s wrong?”

you ignored him, shoving past him, and made your way towards sirius, who just shrugged at his brother.

the three of you sneaked past the guards and the members of the order, successfully escaping and meeting up with lily and james at the entrance.

“oh, merlin!” lily brought you in a hug, “are you alright, y/n?”

“lily,” you breathed out, hugging her back. you closed your eyes in relief, letting out a teary laugh, “i’m alright, don’t worry,”

“we’ve got to go, they’ll catch up soon enough if we don’t leave,” james said, “‘m sure frank and the rest got ‘em distracted for a while.”

arriving back at the potter household, they let you retire back at the guest room, regulus following in suit.

“hey, y/n, what’s wrong?” regulus asked, grabbing your arm so you’re facing him.

you looked at him in anger and hurt, “you lied to me!”

“wha- what did i lie about? i don’t understand,” regulus was dumbstruck, he didn’t know what you were talking about until he remembered all about the betrothal. he looked down in guilt.

“stop the act, regulus. you were the one i was supposed to marry,” you whispered, “why did you lie to me?”

regulus sighed, sitting down on the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, “i was scared, alright? i was scared because i fell for you, y/n, and when i found out that you didn’t want to marry me, i didn’t know what to do… so i lied because i was afraid that you’d go if i told you that i was the prince.”

“and it’s terrifying how i would’ve given you the stars if you asked,” he chuckled softly, “but i chose to keep that to myself because that’s how much of a coward i am…”

“reg, i didn’t even know that it was you,” you frowned, expression softening as you sat down beside him, “and i frankly don’t care about the stars, or anything at all, honestly, because all i want is you, regulus,”

“don’t be so sure about that, y/n,” he breathed out, “if you’ve known that it was me, you wouldn’t agree to marry me.”

“you’re right,” you nodded, smiling softly, “i wouldn’t marry you because of some stupid betrothal, i’d marry you because i love you, regulus black, and i know f’myself that you’re the man that i would love to spend the rest of my life with.”

he looked at you with adoration and love in his eyes, a small smile adorning his lips.

regulus tucked the loose strand of hair behind your hair, his eyes shifting from your eyes down to your lips, “may i?”

not trusting your words, you nodded instead, slowly leaning in. regulus cupped the side of your face with his hand, your hand running through his brown curls as the both of you drew closer. eyes fluttering close as you felt the soft, warmth of his lips caress your own.

after a few moments, he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own, smiling softly at the result of the sudden revelations and confessions.

“let’s run away, regulus,” you whispered, “away from here and our wretched parents.”

“yeah?” he chuckled softly, “where’d you want to go, m’love?”

“italy.”

“... and they lived happily ever after.” you smiled softly.

“mum, what happened in italy?” your daughter asked, hugging her teddy bear as she looked up at you and regulus with her doe eyes.

regulus hummed, “they settled down in florence, italy, with the help of the marauders-”

“dad, who are the marauders?” your son questioned, exchanging looks with his sister and his cousin, harry.

“they’re the best friends of the prince and princess, orion,” james grinned, snaking his arm around lily’s waist.

“what happened next, aunt y/n?”

“well, they had a small wedding by the beach, they traveled around the world, had kids, and are now telling their stories to their adorable kids and godson,” you smiled, “and the said kids and godson should be asleep in the next five minutes.”

the three of them let out simultaneous groans. you, regulus, and the marauders had small smiles on your faces, finding the situation amusing.

“good night, my darlings, we love you,” you and regulus kissed their foreheads and tucked them in bed, as lily and james did the same with harry.

after ensuring that they were fast asleep, you and the rest went back down to the living room.

sirius grinned, grabbing the firewhiskeys and crisps out of the bag, “they finally went to sleep?”

“yeah,” you smiled, fiddling with the moonstone necklace regulus bought you from the fair, “guess our story worked perfectly fine as a bedtime tale, didn’t it, reggie?”

“indeed it did, m’love,” he kissed the top of your head, sitting down on the couch for your traditional game night.

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirly @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

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