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soulwillower · 3 years

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semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane. "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own. "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut

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witchywrter · 3 years

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“Home” (Part 5/?)

Paul Lahote x reader

Part 4

Summary: y/n returns from college in California to her hometown in Forks to find things are not as she left them. She soon discovers that a lot more things have changed then she initially thought.

Warnings: mentions of death, car accident, verbal fighting, cussing, i think that covers it

A/N: i am literally so sorry for not updating sooner guys lmao i’m trying to update all my fics now, especially this one bc i love it. i’ll get the next one out next week. love you all!_______________________________________________

You felt so much pain as you began to regain consciousness and could make out someone calling your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned your head to the source of the sound to see a Doctor at your side, his hand on your arm. He was very handsome. Not exactly your type, but still. He looked to be around your age, far too young to be a Doctor already.

“Hello Y/n, my name is Dr.Cullen. You’ve been in an accident”

Your head was throbbing and you felt pain radiating from your stomach and leg. You looked around to find that you were indeed in the hospital.

You looked down at his hand on your arm. It was ice cold, absolutely freezing. He must have noticed you looking because he removed his hand.

“How long have I been here?” you asked, looking back to the Doctor.

“About a day and a half. Do you remember anything?” he asked kindly.

“There was a man in the road, he came out of nowhere. I swerved to try to avoid him” you said trying to remember.

“Your car flipped four times and caught fire. A piece of glass punctured your abdomen and another your left thigh, narrowly missing your femoral artery. We were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize your condition. You’re lucky to be alive, if your friend hadn’t been there to pull you out when he did, you could have died” he finished, shaking his head.

“My friend?” you asked.

“He’s from the reservation, one of Jacob Black’s friends I believe” he said.

Well that didn’t exactly narrow it done much. Your car was totaled most likely. You’re dad’s car, the one thing you had left of him.

“You’ll be okay, but you need your rest. You can be discharged tomorrow morning and the stitches will dissolve on their own in two weeks” he said has he picked up your chart and began walking away.

“Oh, one more thing. Sherif Swan called me, if you still want that internship, send over your resume and you can start after your two weeks” he said with a slight smile on his lips.

“Thank you Dr.Cullen” you called out as he left to check on other patients.

You looked over to your side to see an array of gifts on the beside table and chair. There seemed to be something from everyone. Flowers with cards from Leah, Sam, Emily and even Charlie and his daughter Bella and a big card from Quill, Embry, Collin, and Brady with all their own little messages and signatures.

The huge, brown bear sat on the chair with a red ribbon around its neck didn’t seem to have a card accompanying it.

You grabbed your phone from the side table and unlocked it. There were a few messages from friends and one from your mom. You opened up your mom’s message and read:

“Why did I have to find out from the Sherif that my daughters been in a car accident. You know what it was like for me when your father passed and the fact that you’d put me through that again is appalling”

This was followed by multiple messages about how horrible of a daughter you were and how you have no excuse for ignoring her text messages.

She had no right to bring up your dad like that. As if you got into an accident to hurt her, as if you were unconscious and not responding on purpose.

Your dad was driving home one night after a long night at the hospital when he was hit by a drunk driver. He was pronounced dead at the scene. You never got to say goodbye. Never got to tell him you loved him one last time.

You turned your phone off and set it on the side table and laid back down. Although you were out for a day and a half, you felt utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. You pulled your blankets back up and closed your eyes, hoping for a full nights rest.

You woke up to the curtains flying back, sunlight flooding the room. Your eyes stung as you were blinded.

“Wake up loser, it’s time for a jail break” Leah said in a very cheerful voice.

“No Leah, I’m not dead and feel amazing” you say in a sarcastic voice.

“That’s exactly what i wanted to hear. Seriously though, are you okay? You scared the shit out of everyone” she said, her voice taking on a concerned tone.

“Yeah, just beat up. Should be at healed up in two weeks” you say, sitting up.

“Here, I brought these from Emily’s house” she said, tossing a long sleeve, pants, socks, undergarments and shoes onto the bed.

After you changed and signed the discharge papers, you and Leah headed back to Emily’s place.

“What a bitch,” Leah said with disgust as she climbed the steps.

“I know, I still can’t believe I’m related to her” you say shaking your head.

Leah opened the front door and you hear “Surprise!” as you walk through. Everyone but Collin, Brady, Quill and Paul were there for your second homecoming.

Jake ran up to hug you, but Leah stepped in front of him.

“You wanna rip her stitches dumbass?” she said like a mother correcting her child.

“Oh shut it Leah” Jacob said, but gave you a much gentler hug than he originally intended.

“How are you?” Jake asked.

“Well I think I might fall over and die if one more person asks how I am” you say laughing. You stop as a stabbing pain shoots from your abdomen.

Sam, Emily and Seth hug you as well before you finally make it to the couch to sit down.

“What happened?” Embry asked taking a seat next to you with Leah on the other side.

“I was driving back here and I looked down at my phone for barely a second and when I looked back up there was a man in the road” you said.

“Well you know what they say about texting and driving” Seth said but the joke fell flat as no one laughed.

“What did the man look like?” Jake asked in a serious tone.

“Pale I guess, black hair, I’m not really sure. Why?” you asked, confused.

“No reason, just wondering” he said looking over to Sam who was sitting on a stool by the counter talking to Emily.

“Do you know who pulled me out?” you asked Jacob.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Dr.Cullen said one of our friends pulled me out of the car before it caught fire”

“Oh, uh, Paul did” he said.

Paul. Of all of your friends you had thought it might have been, that was the absolute last person you’d think would save you. If anything he’d probably be the one to toss you right into the flames.

“Oh” was all you said.

The front door opened and in walked Quill and Paul.

“Well I’ve gotta get back to..work” Jacob said standing up.

“Me too” said Seth as he followed Jacob to the door.

“Heal up Y/n!” Jacob yelled over his should and he and Seth left.

Quill came over and sat where Seth had just been and gave you a hug and Paul went straight to Sam without even acknowledging you.

Not like it mattered anyway.

“How are y-“ Quill started.

“Fine” you cut him off.

Through the rest of the day, people started to leave one by one as they had work, school or other things to get to. Eventually Paul said his goodbyes to Sam and Emily and began walking out the door, again without saying a word to you.

You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself and momentarily excused yourself from your board game that you were beating Embry in. You walked out the door just as Paul was off the steps.

“Hey!” you called to him.

Paul stopped and slowly turned back to you.

“What?” he asked rudely, not fully meeting your gaze.

Instead of responding with the same attitude, you walked down some of the steps.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Jacob told me what you did” you said gently.

“It wasn’t exactly like there was a choice in the matter” he spat.

“Could you just not be a complete asshole for once in your life? I’m trying to thank you for saving my life” you said, anger getting the best of you.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” he said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising your voice.

“Nothing. I-I can’t do this right now, I won’t do this right now” he said, voice equal to yours now.

“No, come on Paul, let it out. Say what you need to say!”

Paul started shaking with anger and as much as you knew you should stop, your anger wouldn’t let you.

“Say. It.” you seethed.

“Paul!” you heard as the front door swung open.

You turned around to see Quill come running down and barreling into Paul, pushing him away from you. Sam came running out too.

“Get him out of here!” Sam yelled.

Quill grabbed Paul and pulled him out into the woods.

“What the hell?” you asked

“Get inside Y/n!” Sam yelled.

“You don’t tell me what to do” you said angrily

“Get. Inside. Now.” he said sternly.

You scoffed but turned on your heal and went inside and upstairs, waking right passed Emily and ignoring her as she called out to you.

Who did they think they were, telling you to get inside. Paul always had anger problems, this wasn’t anything new.

You hate him.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” replayed again and again in your head. You hated him for making you feel less than, for making you feel worthless.

Him saving you meant nothing. He was a dick to you your entire life and you didn’t care that Sam asked you to lighten up on him. No one bit.

As you laid down to sleep, not even bothering to take off your clothes or change, you wiped the single tear that escaped. You hated him and always would.

//////////////

You were walking through the woods to get to your favorite spot again. It was the middle of the night, but Jacob asked to meet you there. The moonlight shown through the thick trees, illuminating your path.

Everything was so green and beautiful, you missed being home.

You walked a little farther when your foot hit something, stopping you in your tracks. You looked down to see a rock jutting up from the ground. It was the same one you fell on the other day. It still had blood on it, fresh and bright and not at all dried. That wasn’t right. You fell days ago, it should be dried or the rain should have washed it off.

*Snap*

You spun around. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, that same feeling of being watched returning. You shouldn’t be out here. Emily warned you.

You scanned your surroundings, but it was too dark. What happened to the moonlight? You squinted your eyes and saw him-it.

The man from the road, eyes blood red, skin pale as snow, hair dark as the night around him. He cocked his head to the side, watching you.

Where did he come from? Had he been watching you the whole time? Was he in the woods that first day?

You could try to outrun him, you didn’t know how far into the woods you were, you didn’t even remember how you got here. You went to take a step back but he was in front of you instantly and attacked, grabbing your arm.

You jolted upright, breathing heavily. You looked around. You were in your room, at Sam and Emily’s. You were safe. You ran your fingers through your hair as you looked out the window. It was the middle of the night.

There were things that weren’t adding up. Everyone has been acting weird, telling you to avoid the woods, saying that whatever has been attacking people isn’t animal or human, the man in the road, even Paul’s behavior has been worse than normal…something wasn’t right, you could feel it in your gut.

You knew what they told you, the warnings, but with everything that happened with Paul and your mom, you didn’t care anymore. You were gonna find out what was going on, no matter what.

_______________________________________________

A/N: hey guys! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! lots of stuff happened and i swear we’re gonna get more paulxreader interactions from now on. love you all❤️❤️

@that-animebitch @fangirlanotherjust @justdidabadthing @scuzmunkie @ccosmic-illusion

@xthefuckerysquaredx @destroyed-and-damned @classyunknownlover @hglyu @blackloveangel13

@champagnesugamama @bshelley322

#paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #twilight saga #twilight #new moon #twilight: new moon #paul lahote could kill me and i’d literally say thank you

137 notes · View notes

chaoticminhos · 4 years

Text

maybe i do

--”even at a young age, he knew he wouldn’t be able to choose who he married, but that didn’t stop him from hoping that one day, maybe, you would at least be an option.so imagine his excitement when you were. and then imagine his pain when you told him you wished you were anything but.”

pairing: lee know x reader

genre: angst, fluff, a smut scene

warnings: none

word count: 16.3k

a/n: arraigned marriage with minho was requested, as was breeding/pregnancy kink with him :) I didn’t make the pregnancy kink a big part bc the smut scene is small but i hope you like it anyway, anon!! I can always write a separate fic, too. there’s never too many minho fics <3

eighteen. that’s when you were expected to choose a partner. you’d just turned of age, and as an adult, you were now supposed to be getting ready to take the throne. with a partner, of course.

a very specific partner, specific to the point that all choice given to you to make you feel like you were in control meant absolutely nothing.

you needed to find a man, first of all. a single man, one that wasn’t already set to be married. he had to have power, at least as much or more power than you had. he needed to have wealth. you needed to find yourself a handsome, wealthy prince from one of your neighboring kingdoms, and your parents had to like him. as much as your parents said you were in full control of choosing your suitor, you knew you were not the one making the calls. not a single one of them.

there was only one person who matched all of these criteria. there was only one boy you whose name would be on your list of potential suitors and your parents knew it just as well as you did.

you could try just simply not writing lee minhos name down, not selecting a husband at all, but it would be futile. eventually, if you hadn’t selected a worthy candidate to marry, one would be decided for you.

without a doubt, minho would be the one selected, whether you wrote it down or your parents signed his name for you.

you didn’t have anything against minho specifically. he was no more intolerable than any of the other royal children you’d met. if anything, he was actually easier to be around. it’s just that you were expected to be fond of him.

you were ordered by your parents to love him, and that in itself made you want to despise him.

along with your side of the selection, minho also had to choose you. if he didn’t, you would just have to wait until someone else came along. it wasn’t just you looking for a partner, he was in search as well. the difference was that he had been in search for nearly a year and he had willingly selected you.

minho wasn’t the first in line to be king of his home kingdom, his oldest brother was. he was already married and set to be crowned in the coming months. instead, if minho ever wanted to be a king, he needed to find a woman to marry who was set to become queen.

luckily for him, you were the oldest daughter in a family that had no sons.

as the eldest sibling in a family of no boys, you were in line to lead. but according to the rules, you couldn’t lead without a man to stand beside.

in all logic, minho had to choose you just as much as you needed to choose him. of course, if both of you resented each other, the wedding could be held off until you resolved the conflict. or even cancelled. you might be given a few more years of freedom before another man who fits your parents wants walks into their life or ages old enough to marry.

much to your dismay, however, minho did choose you. even before it was brought to his attention that he was your only option, that you would remain single for an unknown amount of time unless he married you, minho chose you. the second he noticed your name on the list of possible brides, which was much longer than your list of possible husbands, he had his mind set on you.

and after finding out that you had no one to choose but him, minho was sure he was going to get what he wanted.

you clenched your jaw and took your place at the table, glancing at the seat beside you that had been saved for minho.

“we want you two to get to know each other more before the wedding,” your mother said, “and he’s such a sweet boy.”

“i haven’t even chosen him as my fiancé yet, mom.”

she sent you an apologetic smile, both of you knew it didn’t matter what you chose.

you sat biting your lip and playing with the frills on your dress for quite some time before minho and his parents entered the room, escorted by four of the palace guards.

he looked different than when you had last seen him. taller. it had only been a year or so, but you could clearly see changes. his jaw line was more defined and he had finally learned how to tie a tie so it wasn’t crooked. his eyes, though. even from across the room, you could see that his eyes were the same.

you smiled and sent a small wave towards one of the guards as they turned to leave. minho must have thought you were waving at him, and he waved back, a huge smile plastered on his pretty lips.

you were aware that he had already put your name down as his official choice of brides, practically robbing you of any chance you had of not being forced into marriage, and you knew he was probably equally aware that you had yet to write down his name, even though it was the only one you had.

you held back a laugh at minho waving at you, not having the heart to tell him you were waving to felix and not him as he made his way around the table and to you. you let yourself smile though. no matter how much you wanted him to hate you as much as you hated the idea of marrying him, you couldn’t be downright rude. not when the parents were watching, at least.

you stood to greet him, sending your now-forced smile in his direction. you went to shake his hand, but instead, he pulled you into a tight hug. it was short, so short that you didn’t have the time to return the hug, not that you would have wanted to.

you sat back down and looked up to greet his parents sitting across from the two of you on your big table. your own parents were sat on the ends of the table, your father to your left and mother to your right. neither your nor minhos siblings were present.

there was no time for conversation before the cook was bringing out the food. it was nothing fancy, per your request. he brought all of the food out at once, minus the desert, instead of in different courses.

you half expected minho to say something about the way the meal was brought out in a way that wasn’t considered the most elegant, but he didn’t. instead, his eyes went wide as he spotted the roasted chicken set down in the middle of the table.

his mother observed his behavior and laughed, “y/n, how did you know minho’s favorite food? i don’t remember sending a letter containing his favorites.”

you frowned slightly, “i didn’t, i just chose my favorite.”

at your words, your mothers shared a glance, one that said, “they’re perfect for each other.”

your father was the next to speak, “minho, why don’t you cut the chicken for us.”

once again you anticipated some sort of reaction out of the boy. he had been asked to cut the chicken when there were waiters standing all around that could most likely do it much neater than he could. it was another thing you had specifically requested to happen in order to judge his reaction. but again, to your surprise, he smiled, stood up, and began to cut even strips off of it, passing them out around the table.

he turned to you, “how much do you want?”

you ignored the softness in his voice, one that you could see yourself growing fond of if you didn’t resent the idea of loving him so much already.

“i can get my own.”

he didn’t even flinch at your response, chuckling as he cut a piece off of the bird and guided it to your plate. you had to keep yourself from pouting as you looked down at it. he’d given you just as much as you wanted.

he was making it very difficult to keep a bitter attitude towards him when he was doing everything right. how were you supposed to convince your parents he would be a terrible husband when acted like the perfect one?

after serving himself, minho reclaimed his seat beside you. you served yourself to the rest of the food as it was passed around, handing the bowls to minho when you were finished. you took notice of the way he chose food. he took a little of everything, as if he wanted to taste all of the foods you had requested to be made for his visit. you asked him about it.

“trying everything, minho?”

you dropped his formality. you should have predicted that he would take it as a sign that you were comfortable with him rather than a petty disrespect in the way you’d meant.

he nodded, sending a soft smile towards you, “i assume your chose all your favorites, princess, so i want to try them all.”

you would have blushed if someone you were fond of said it, but you weren’t blushing. no, the heat in your face was just there because the room was warm from all of the bodies and hot food.

one of the waiters came around with a bottle of wine and some glasses, offering one to everyone at the table. of course, everyone accepted, it was impolite not to, but you couldn’t help but notice that minho didn’t touch his glass as often as the rest of you.

by the time you were smiling up at the waiter as he poured you a second glass, minho still had yet to finish even half of his first.

you ate in casual conversation until all of you had your fill. the table was slowly cleared and the meals were replaced with a small array of sweets.

minho nudged you, pointing at one of the trays.

“what’s this?”

you were caught off guard by his voice. it was soft, timid, almost like he was embarrassed that he didn’t know what the dessert was.

“pumpkin bars.”

he nodded, “are they your favorite?”

you shrugged, shaking your head, “kinda. they’re not my favorite to eat, but i love baking them.”

his eyes widened, “you made these?”

you shook your head again, a small laugh leaving your lips. as much as you tried to stay short and serious with him, you couldn’t.

“no, but i know how.”

he paused for a moment as his eyes scanned the table before he turned to you once more, “can you teach me?”

your brows furrowed, “to make pumpkin bars?”

he nodded.

never mind. you definitely could be short with him.

what was he playing at? why was he behaving exactly in the way you’d want him to in every obstacle you threw at him? he couldn’t actually be that good. first, he wasn’t offset by the untraditionally casual meal or being asked to serve the main dish himself, and now he was showing interest in something you liked to do. something that was considered low level, something that a princess should never have to do. and now he was asking if you would show him how?

no, he had to be faking. any walls that had been broken down by his timid voice and him making you laugh were thrown back up.

“you don’t want to bake.”

it was his turn to frown.

he reached out to stop your arm as you went to grab a slice of pie.

“what do you mean? yes i do.”

you pulled your wrist from his grip, speaking lowly so only he would hear.

“well i don’t want to teach you.”

you missed the expression that crossed his face as you reached across the table to grab the dessert you wanted.

he didn’t say anything more. he just reached for the pie spatula as you went to set it down. his fingers grazed yours as he took the tool from your hand and you were violently aware of it, of how his fingers against your skin seemed to send a shock through your body.

he set a piece on his plate and took a bite, glancing at you. you hadn’t even registered that you had been watching him until he did.

“how is it?”

he nodded in approval, “it’s good. do you know how to make pies, too?”

“yes. i can make most every dessert our cooks can.”

he held your gaze as he smiled at you.

you frowned, averting your eyes from his and back to your plate, “what?”

“nothing.” he began, “i just think it’s interesting that you’re so into baking now. last time we spoke you were crazy about the gardens.”

you shrugged, “who says i can’t love both?”

there was a pause before, to your surprise, you kept the conversation going.

“do you still practice archery?”

he nodded, swallowing a bite of his pie before responding.

“i can out shoot almost all of our archers.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at your lips, “who says they’re not letting you win?”

he playfully shoved you and you laughed.

“fine, then you go against me.”

you shook your head, “anyone could beat me in archery.”

he seemed to think for a moment before softly nudging you, “i could give you some tips?”

you almost found yourself accepting his offer before you caught yourself. you were not supposed to be enjoying his company.

“i don’t need your help. if i wanted to learn i would have one of my guards teach me.”

the way his expression fell made something in your chest ache and you hoped his parents hadn’t heard the remark. you felt bad for a moment, it wasn’t his fault that you were being forced to marry him.

then a thought crossed your mind- it kind of was.

he played by their rules and pretended to be excited to marry you, but that’s not what he wanted. he knew the perks that came along with marrying you. it wasn’t you he was excited for, it was the power and status that came along with marrying you. how could he be excited to marry you when he barely knew you? he couldn’t. all he wanted was to be king, and you gave him that option. he didn’t try to fight it. maybe if he fought it like you did, you wouldn’t be forced into it. or at least not so soon.

the fact that his cooperation was only securing your unwanted future was enough to wipe that sting from your chest.

you finished the rest of your dessert in silence, listening in on your parents conversations and trying not to scream at every mention of the upcoming wedding you didn’t want to have.

“has he picked out a ring yet?”

“no,” his mother responded, “he wanted to get to know her better first. he wants it to be perfect.”

you finished your food and pushed the plate away from you, letting the waiters know they could collect it. all of the adults were already done eating. minho finished soon after, having taken longer as he savored every bite. this left the table without food and full of conversation.

minho only spoke again when your mother addressed him.

“is there a specific type of flower you want at the ceremony?”

he spoke softly, kindly. you could see exactly why your mother loved him so much. even without him being the only choice, he probably would have been her first choice for you.

“yes. i love lilies.”

you took a deep breath to keep yourself from blowing up, it couldn’t be a coincidence that he kept having the same favorites as you. someone told him so he could better bond with you.

your mom knew how badly you didn’t want this wedding to happen, she probably send his family a letter of ways to win your favor.

“it would be the perfect time to have the ceremony outside,” minho’s mother gushed, “the green suits them both.”

your dad laughed, “every color suits our y/n.”

“what color were you thinking, dear?” your mother turned to you.

your eyes shot to her. you were about to snap that you didn’t care about colors because you hoped there would be no wedding to coordinate colors to, but minhos parents were in the room. you couldn’t risk upsetting them and throwing off the good relationship your kingdoms had simply because you didn’t want to marry their son.

cutting off the marriage would be one thing. if it was mutual, it wouldn’t harm any relationships between the kingdoms. it would just stall your transition to power until you were forced against another possible husband. insulting him in front of his parents, however, might.

instead, you opted to look over at minho and pull a false smile onto your features.

“i think purple would suit him well.”

his parents didn’t catch the falseness of your cheerful tone or the way the smile on your lips was obviously forced, but minho did.

“oh, you’re so right!”

you asked one of the servants for the time and stood up.

“mom, i need to water my plants. may i?”

she nodded gesturing to the boy beside you, “take minho with you.”

you nodded, turning to leave the room without waiting for him. you heard your mother mutter something about your own little garden that you refused to let the staff tend for instead of doing it yourself.

minho caught up as you were partly down the hallway.

“y/n, is something wrong?”

you stopped, nearly causing him to crash into you.

“is something wrong? minho, this whole thing is wrong.”

he frowned, following again as you made your way to the garden entrance, “what do you mean?”

you opened the door to the garden a little harsher than you probably needed to and began filling a watering jug, “people should be able to fall in love before marriage.”

he shrugged, “there’s plenty of time for you to fall in love with me before the ceremony.”

you sent a glare towards him, “i want to choose who i love, minho.”

“then choose me.”

you shook your head, choosing not to respond. he followed you across the garden and to a small, fenced off patch that he assumed to be your personal garden.

you could feel his eyes on you as you went around and checked the soil around each plant before watering the ones that needed it. he wasn’t saying anything, he was just watching you. you let him stand in silence.

he followed you back to the entrance where you sat your watering can down and to a small bench where he took his seat beside you.

you put some distance between the two of you when he sat down right next to you and he noticed, just as he had noticed every other less than loving way you’d reacted to each of his attempts to show affection.

his chest tightened, why did you hate him so much? he thought you two were on good terms. the last time you saw each other, you laughed and joked with him. what was different now? was the idea of marrying him really that bad?

maybe you were just nervous.

people handle nerves differently, he reminded himself, maybe yours just made you snappy. it wasn’t anything to worry about. plenty of people had second thoughts before their weddings. you just had to get used to him was all, since you hadn’t seen each other in so long. then you would go back to joking with him and your he happy to have him as your husband.

he was shaken out of his thoughts by your voice.

“you don’t drink much?” you were referring to the glass of wine he had barely finished during dinner.

he shook his head, “it makes my mind foggy.”

you chuckled. he liked the sound. somehow, it was sweeter knowing that it was because of him.

“isn’t that what alcohol is supposed to do?”

he smiled, “i guess. but i wanted to be able to see you clearly.”

something akin to butterflies woke up inside your stomach. you ignored them as you stood abruptly, heading immediately for the door. he followed you out of the garden and back to the dining room where your families were seated. they turned as you stepped through the door.

“mother, it’s getting late and they have a long ride home.”

minho said nothing, standing at your side like it’s where he belonged, once again too close for comfort.

his parents agreed, standing along with your parents and thanking them for having them over. his mother hugged you goodbye at the front door before stepping into a carriage with her husband and son.

you were thankful that minho hadn’t tried to hug you goodbye. or much worse, kiss you.

he spent the carriage ride home wishing he had.

it was only a matter of days before his family was visiting again. since minho would be living in your castle with you, your parents decided it was best to have him visit you again rather than you go to his kingdom.

“y/n, the lees will be here soon, get dressed!”

“i am dressed.”

“then get out here!”

you groaned and chan laughed beside you.

“stop laughing at my pain.” you scolded him, “i’ll have you fired from the guard.”

he laughed again, “you would never. who would protect you then?”

you grumbled as you straightened your dress and opened the door, “felix. woojin. seungmin. literally any of the other guards.”

he pouted, coming to stand next to you as you walked down the hallway and to the front where you would be greeting minho.

he was going to complain, but you cut him off when you saw minho and his family standing near the doorway.

“go join the others.” you told chan, “but be on watch. you might need to save minho from me if he acts like he was last time.”

chan laughed, heading to stand with the rest of the guards.

minho noticed the friendly interaction and smiled. he liked how you were always so nice to the servants. he noticed it during the meal too, when you smiled and joked with the waiter.

“sorry to keep you waiting.” you bowed politely to his parents.

you turned to minho, “hello.”

a big smile spread across his features, “hi again, my love.”

he had taken a risk with those being the first words out of his mouth. he thought that maybe seeing him again and time to adjust had gotten you used to the idea of him. he thought maybe your attitude would have changed towards him.

he was wrong. although you couldn’t make a point of showing it in front of his parents, he could see by the slight change in your eyes at the choice of the name that he was definitely wrong.

“would you kids leave the adults to talk for a while?” your mother spoke.

she placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on minho’s, “you can go wherever you’d like, just stay clear of your bedroom.”

your face flushed red and glared at your mom as minhos parents laughed. was she trying to embarrass you? did she think you’d laugh at the joke? it wasn’t funny.

knowing you wouldn’t last long without blowing up with teasing like that, you took a hold of minho’s hand and drug him away from your parents. you allowed him to walk beside you this time instead of rushing to be in front of him, but you dropped his hand practically as soon as you’d taken it.

he’d assumed the garden was your destination, so when you walked past the doorway to the giant greenhouse, he spoke up.

“where are we going?”

“i don’t know yet.”

you ended up at the base of a staircase that lead to the roof of the castle. without questioning you, he followed you up the stairs and to the open roof. you were immediately met with a burst of cold air, but the longer you stood in the wind, the easier it became to handle.

you followed minho as he made his way across the roof and towards the edge, throwing his legs over and sitting with them dangling down as he took in the view.

he probably expected to go sit with him, so you did. that in no way meant you were going to begin complying with everything, it just meant that you were choosing to be civil in that moment.

he noticed as you glanced back at the door you’d entered the roof from.

“what is it?”

“my mother must have told my guards not to follow us.”

he shrugged, “why would you need guards when you’re with me?”

you huffed, “in case i decide to bite your head off.”

he laughed at the remark, and even though you hadn’t intended it as a joke, you laughed along with him. something about his laugh made it impossible to sit there with a scowl on your face.

“tell me what’s so bad about me, then.”

a teasing grin spread across your face as you looked at him, “god, where do i start...”

he gestured for you to continue, but your mind ran blank. what exactly was so bad about him? the majority of your issues weren’t with him in specific.

then one thing popped into your mind like a big red flag.

“you’re forcing me into marriage.”

he frowned, “i don’t think so, not really. if i refused to marry you, you would simply wait another year or two as a princess until your parents were able to find another prince for you.” he paused, “in some ways, i actually think i’m saving you.”

“saving me?” you scoffed out.

“yes. from some creep you might be forced to marry instead of me if i decline as harshly as you are.”

“who says you’re not a creep, lee minho?”

his face morphed into faux offense, “my mother says i’m quite the gentleman, thank you very much.”

you let out a small chuckle before responding. he did have a point, you were going to be forced into a marriage eventually, whether it be this one or not. at least you knew him. was a couple extra years of freedom worth marrying someone you didn’t know at all? or would it be wisest to settle for minho?

either way, you still didn’t understand why you needed a man at all to lead.

“why can’t i just lead alone? i don’t need a king.”

“there’s two thrones for a reason.”

he saw the confusion across your face and continued.

“two leaders is safer than one. it requires compromise and thought, not just one person making the choices according to their opinion only.”

you nodded, and you hated how much his explanation of everything was making sense.

“it’s the same reason they make a king marry before taking the throne if they can help it.”

there was a short pause before he spoke again, “i mean, technically, if both of your parents died right now, there would be no option other than to send you to the throne alone. and as the queen, no one could tell you to get married. but unless you want to assassinate your parents,” he brought his hand to rest on top of yours, “you’re stuck with me.”

ignoring the searing heat of his skin touching yours, you narrowed your eyes up at him as you spoke.

“you make it tempting.”

he laughed again, and this time you had intended for it to be humorous.

it was cleared now why things were the way they were. it would have been so much easier if your parents took a second to explain it in the way minho had. he was very good with explaining things, a talent a good king needs to have.

maybe he wouldn’t be so bad to lead with.

still, you didn’t resent the situation any less than you had before understanding it.

you turned from the view of the mountains to find minho already staring back at you. it wasn’t until you noticed the way the sun framed his face that you noticed how quickly the sun had been setting, had you really been outside with him that long?

you traced the lines of his face with your eyes, admiring the way the sun sat on his skin as if it was made for the purpose.

you frowned in confusion as the shapes across his face began to grow, and before you could register it, his lips were only moments away from yours. you reacted quickly, thankful that he had paused to give you the option to do so.

he didn’t seem surprised as the palms of your hands connected to his chest, pushing him away from you.

you stood from the edge, dusting off your dress and motioning to the door.

“i’m not supposed to be outside at dark without my guards.”

you knew that that didn’t matter, your parents trusted minho to keep you safe, that’s the whole reason they didn’t feel the need to send guards with you in the first place. you figured he probably knew that too, but he didn’t comment on it. instead, he nodded, following you to the staircase and opening the door for you, walking with you around the castle as you looked for your parents.

you found them in the first place you looked, the lounge. you waited for a pause in their conversation before making yourself known.

“it’s getting dark, shall i ask for the carriage?”

your mother sent you a worried smile as your dad spoke.

“sweetheart, they’re staying the night. we’ll have a carriage sent to take king and queen lee home in the morning.

you frowned, glancing at minho. he shrugged.

“the king and queen? what about minho?”

“he’ll be living here from now on. he might as well get used to his new home.”

your face fell.

“what about my things?” minho questioned. he seemed much more calm about the news than you, but he didn’t seem to know any more about the situation.

his mother waved the question off, “i sent for some carriages with your things as soon as we made the decision for you to remain here. they’ve already arrived and are waiting to be unpacked.”

“where are they?” he questioned.

his mother laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“your bedroom.”

“where is that?”

your dad cut in, “y/n can show you.”

that’s when it hit you- his bedroom was your bedroom. that’s why your mother had told you to stay clear of it. she had anticipated the conversation about minho staying and wanted the area to be clear if they chose to move his things in. your mother hadn’t meant it as a joke at all, she said it as an order.

trying to hide your frustration, you grabbed minho’s hand and turned to leave.

“we’ll start to unpack now!”

you ignored both your and his parents calls as you dragged him down the hallways and to your bedroom.

the first thing you noticed was that some of your personal items were being carried out of the door as you watched. things that made your bedroom yours. stacks of books you loved to read and even piles of papers containing words of your own were being handled by random personnel. not even your own guards, staff you had never met was handling your personal things. it would be one thing if it was chan or one of your friends moving things out, but it wasn’t. you hadn’t even seen chan or the rest of your guard since you greeted minho when he arrived.

their soul job was to protect you, and they had been relieved of duty while you were with minho, so why couldn’t they have been the ones to handle your things? it would still have upset you, obviously, but it would have been far less intrusive to have people you know and trust doing it.

you felt tears brimming in your eyes. your parents knew how much you valued privacy, and yet they let people you’d never even seen on the property handle everything you valued.

minho’s eyes were just as attached to the scene ahead of you until he heard a soft whimper leave your lips. immediately, he had his arms around you and your face buried in his chest.

you wanted to pull away, to shove him and curse at him for coming into your life like this, but instead, you gripped the fabric of his button up shirt and let him hold you close.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair, “i didn’t know.”

and then he did something you would never have expected.

“excuse me!” he called, his authoritative voice echoing down the hallway, “you can stop now. put whatever is in your hands down and leave.”

the movers hesitated, not knowing whether or not to follow his commands yet, but they ended up obeying. he stopped one of the men as he moved to walk past the two of you, you still secure and crying into his chest.

“where did you put the things you moved?”

the worker gestured to the things in the hall outside your bedroom, “everything we moved is in this hallway, your royal highness.”

“and my things?”

“waiting for you further down the hall.”

he nodded and let the man leave before slowly pulling you off of him. he felt a squeeze in his heart as you looked up at him with red, tear filled eyes.

he led you into your room, “let’s get you to your bed.”

you let out a small sob at his words, “that’s not my bed.”

he was confused for a moment before it registered in his mind. they must have switched out your old bed in favor of a larger one to suit the both of you, even though the one you had before would have no doubt done the job fine. you’d probably had a queen at the smallest.

the longer minho held you, the less you wanted to push him away and blame him for everything that was happening.

he walked you over to the bed and sat you down, taking a seat beside you so you could remain attached to him.

he knew that it wasn’t him you found comfort in, but rather just a warm body to hug. still, having you so close to him felt so right, he couldn’t bring himself to care. it felt like you were finally responding to him like a woman should to her fiancé. you were letting him take care of you.

truth be told, if he could have scooped you up in his arms the day he first saw you after learning you were to be his wife a few days prior, he would have, and he never would have let go.

when he saw your name on the piece of paper handed to him, he didn’t even read the rest. even before opening the letter, your name had popped into his mind. he’d always had a childish crush on you. even at a young age, he knew he wouldn’t be able to choose who he married, but that didn’t stop him from hoping that one day, maybe, you would at least be an option.

so imagine his excitement when you were. and then imagine his pain when you told him you wished you were anything but.

as he moved you up the bed and snuggled himself in beside you before pulling the covers up to keep you warm, he wondered if maybe tonight would change that.

maybe you would realize that you liked the feeling of being in his arms, of having him hold you close. as your sniffles became softer and eventually stopped, he wondered if you’d realize that falling asleep next to him was something you could get used to.

because oh goodness, after falling asleep with you in his arms, even though the both of you were still in uncomfortable cloths and had fallen asleep upset, he didn’t ever want to go to bed without you again.

you were woken up only a little while after falling asleep to the sound of soft knocking on your door. minho stirred beside you and you both sat up to see who it was.

both of your mothers were standing in the doorway with adoration in their eyes at the sight in front of them.

“and here i thought you’d be upset over the room.” your mother cooed as she made her way into the room.

you shifted yourself away from minho and you could have sworn you heard a whine of complaint come from him as your body lost contact to his. or maybe it was you.

his mother approached the bed as well, taking hold of his collar and straightening it out.

“goodness, you two didn’t even bother to change into sleep clothes.”

minho responded before you could, “we hadn’t meant to fall asleep.”

“what time is it?” you added.

“not late,” your mother responded, “it was still only 10:30 when we headed up to check on you.”

you nodded, and as the sleep wore off, the anger kicked in. before you burst, you stood and ushered them out of the room.

“i’ll get changed now, then, and then we can organize and unpack a little tonight.”

“we can help!” his mother chimed.

before you could deny the offer, minho did.

“no mother, we want to set up our bedroom ourselves, please.”

happy with the response, she nodded and followed your mother out of the room and back to wherever your fathers were waiting.

minho stood from the bed and looked into your closet.

“it doesn’t look like any of my clothes are here yet, so i’ll leave you to change. i can find something in a box and i’ll find a place to change.”

you nodded as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

you sat on the edge of your bed for a moment before standing up and grabbing the same sleep clothes you wore every night. they had already been washed in the morning and pressed dry, ready for you to use again.

you tried to undo the buttons on the back of your dress, but you couldn’t reach. chan had helped you do them earlier in the day. you reached your arm over the opposite shoulder in an attempt to reach the buttons, straining the fabric of the dress in a weird way. you heard the sound of stitches coming undone and pulled your arm back into a normal position, inspecting the place the noise had come from. sure enough, there were little pieces of thread hanging around a small tear in the arm of your dress.

defeated, you sat down on your bed and waited for minho to return. it wasn’t long before he did, signaling his presence with a couple soft knocks to the door. you called for him to come in and he did, pausing in surprise when he saw you still in the dress, your night clothes bundled in your hands.

“i can’t reach the buttons.”

he threw his head back in understanding, taking a few steps towards you as you turned your back to him, moving your hair out of the way of the buttons.

you didn’t know what you’d expected, but the gentle touch of his fingers against your neck as he undid the top button sent a shiver through you. you hoped he didn’t notice, but by the way his movements stopped for a split second before continuing, you knew he had.

he undid the buttons until there were none left, leaving the top half of your back exposed to him where your dress fell open. his eyes ghosted over your shoulder blades and the smooth skin of your back. he wanted to place his palm there, to feel the warmth of your skin in more than just the tips of his fingers. he actually might have, despite his best judgement, if you hadn’t spoke up.

“are you done?”

he muttered a soft word of confirmation as you turned to face him again, hands holding the fabric to your chest to pretend it from falling off.

he stared at you for a moment before reality seemed to flow back into his head.

“let me know when you’re done.”

you nodded, waiting until he pulled the door closed behind him to let the dress fall to the floor. you took your time changing. it felt nice to be alone. after a few minutes, though, an unexpected feeling built up in your chest. it was nice to be alone, but you missed minhos company. or maybe you just missed company.

that was it, you told yourself, you just missed having someone around. your resolve was not breaking this quickly. you were upset and frustrated with how things were going and he was just as good as anyone, except maybe chan, to keep you company.

you called out for him to come back in and he did, immediately taking the clothes you’d just changed out of and setting them in a bin outside your door where they would wait until someone came and took them for cleaning.

you followed him to the door, heading right for a pile of books that had been taken off of your personal bookshelf. luckily, they hadn’t moved the shelf out of your bedroom yet, so you only had the books to carry back in.

you did the same for a few other things, things that you couldn’t imagine not having in your room, before turning to minho.

“what do you want moved in next?” he asked.

“something of yours.”

he was shocked by your reply, almost as if he had expected you to return your bedroom to the way it was before he arrived and pretend his things didn’t exist.

sure, you didn’t like that you had to remove your things from your room to make room for his stuff, but there wasn’t anything you could do about it right then. it wasn’t your room anymore. it belonged to the both of you.

at least until you could convince your parents to cancel the wedding, that is. that was still the plan.

“uh, okay,” minho began down the hallway, scanning his things as he did. he finally settled on a pretty, dark wooded desk. it had drawers along the side and it looked very used. you were surprised his parents let him keep it with how old it looked. it must have been important to him.

he insisted that he could carry it alone, but eventually he let you help. it fit perfectly in the room, almost like it was meant to be there. you placed it a couple feet away from your own desk, which was a similar color. it was a similar build too, with drawers on the sides.

back in the hallway, minho sighed as he attempted to move a large bookcase of his.

“we can’t move this alone. it can wait until morning.”

you nodded, thought for a moment, and then spoke.

“there’s room on mine, if you want. we can put this in storage and you can put your books with mine. there’s no need for two bookcases in one room.”

he was slightly taken aback by your offer, but nodded. he liked that you were getting used to sharing. getting used to it being not just your room, but his too. maybe you had changed your mind about him already.

“okay,” he agreed, “then we can take some books in.”

you grumbled, “but only one load. then we’re done for tonight.”

he laughed, assuring you that it was the last load of the night and walking back to the bedroom beside you, books in hand.

you helped him organize the books on the shelf, interlocking them with yours when it looked best to do so. the bookshelf was still quite empty, but that was fine. you had more books somewhere in the hall that you hadn’t bothered to search for and he had more, too.

you sat down on the bed, still messed up from your little nap, and sighed, but you didn’t say anything.

instead, minho did. after a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, he sat down beside you and spoke.

“why won’t you let me kiss you?”

you were surprised by the sudden question, “you only tried once.”

“you’d only push me away again if i tried another time.”

“you gave me the chance to push you away.”

“because i knew you would.”

“then why try?”

“because i want to kiss you. why don’t you want to kiss me?”

you faltered at the confidence in his words. sure, his earlier actions had made it clear he wanted to kiss you, he wouldn’t have tried to otherwise, but hearing him say it out loud felt different. it made it click in your mind that he meant it, that it was real.

“i don’t- i already told you.”

“no you didn’t.”

“yes, i did.” you insisted, “i told you. i don’t want to be in a relationship that’s forced.”

and there it was. despite the progress he thought he’d made with you, there it was. that same angry, bitter attitude towards whatever relationship you two had.

he shoved the disappointment down his throat and replied, “then don’t force it. i’m not.”

he said it casually, just like he said and did everything else he did around you. his laid back demeanor gave the illusion that maybe his words were honest. maybe he wasn’t forcing anything he felt for you, maybe he genuinely did look forward to the wedding, and not only for the power. you shoved the thought from your mind, looking forward to marrying you and looking forward to taking control of your kingdom were not the same thing.

as had become common for you, you chose not to respond, instead scooting yourself along the bed until you had your head on a pillow, pulling the blankets over yourself. you felt the bed shift as he did the same, reaching out to shut off any lights in the room before crawling under the same blankets as you.

as badly as he wanted to pull you close to his chest and hold you while he fell asleep like he had hours before, he knew he couldn’t. everything in the way you were responding to him now told him that you would just push him away, maybe even change your mind about sleeping in the same bed as him and make him move to the floor. or worse, move there yourself.

no, minho didn’t want you to sleep on the floor and he didn’t want to upset you further than he knew he already had, so he stayed to himself. with your back to him, he listened to the even sounds of your breathing as you fell asleep. that would have to be enough for him for now.

the next morning was a repeat of the night before, minus minhos thoughts that you could be finally accepting him, maybe even growing feelings that didn’t involve resentment and anger.

after sending his parents off with a promise of them returning soon, just like the night before, you spent the day rearranging the room with him. you refused any help from your parents or anyone else, partially because you didn’t want anyone to touch your things again and partially because you couldn’t stand to be around them at the moment.

unlike before, though, your comfort and coziness to minho had worn off. you were no longer showing him any form of physical affection.

you still kept the room fair, although it didn’t feel like it was half you and half him. it felt like its own place. it wasn’t partially him, the other half you- it was 100% the two of you, together.

you actually quite liked the way the room turned out. you weren’t being as snappy to him as you originally had been, but the atmosphere wasn’t anything close to before, when you’d looked to him for comfort from the pain rather than looking at him like he was the source of it all.

minho hated seeing you cry. when he noticed your state the night before and pulled you into his chest, he could have sworn his heart broke, like it would have fallen right out of his chest if you hadn’t been there holding it in. that reason exactly is why he felt so bad now.

he didn’t want you to cry, he didn’t want you to be sad, but he almost wished you would again, if it meant you would let your walls down for him again. anything to put you back in his arms.

you were walking back to your bedroom after dinner and tending to your garden, exhausted from life and redecorating your room. you were growing used to spending nearly every waking, and sleeping, moment with minho, even beginning to enjoy his company, but that didn’t mean small moments alone weren’t appreciated.

you knew it would only be a few minutes, but walking alone to your shared bedroom while minho was speaking to your parents felt like heaven.

you didn’t remain alone for long, but it didn’t bother you. not when the person breaking the isolation was your best friend.

you jogged down the hallway and to your bedroom door where chan was standing, waiting for you. you hadn’t seen him since minho had arrived days prior.

you threw your arms around him the moment you reached him, happy to finally see him again. it hadn’t been that long, but considering he was usually with you constantly, a few days felt like forever. he pulled you into his chest, placing a kiss to your forehead as you smiled up at him.

you were about to ask him why he hadn’t been around when someone interrupted you.

“i thought you didn’t have brothers.” minho’s voice.

“i don’t.” you payed no attention to chan’s arm around your waist.

he nodded, “then this is?”

chan stepped away from you and reached his hand out to minho, “ah, i’m sorry! i’m chan, head of y/n’s personal guard.”

minho nodded again, taking chan’s hand and gripping it firmly.

“minho. y/n’s fiancé.”

releasing minhos hand and stepping back to you, chan laughed, “i know that, you’re all anyone is talking about recently.”

minho raised an eyebrow, locking his eyes to yours.

“am i?”

“of course!” chan babbled, “everyone’s excited for the wedding.”

minho scoffed, eyes still glued to yours.

“not everyone.”

he didn’t bother to excuse himself before he shoved past you and chan, an action that could have easily been avoided with all the space the hallway held, and into your bedroom.

a confused expression plastered on your face as you turned to chan.

“i know i complain a lot, but he’s usually not that bad. not even near it.”

chan frowned, lowering his voice. minho was right inside the door, after all.

“did you get into a fight or something?”

you shook your head, why did it actually bother you that he seemed upset with you?

“maybe you should go talk to him?”

you debated it in your mind. you probably should go check out what was bothering him, he was fine not even twenty minutes ago at dinner, but you also wanted to stay and talk to chan. you wanted to catch up, to vent.

as if reading your mind, chan turned you to face him.

“hey, go. we’ll see each other plenty now. your mom wanted us to give you space for a while, but the guard is back on full duty.”

you nodded, eyes trained on your bedroom door. you walked away from chan practically the moment he gave you the good to go, stepping into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you.

it didn’t take you long to find minho. he was sat in his desk chair, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. he didn’t look up until you addressed him.

your voice was soft, “minho?”

if he hadn’t been so frustrated, he would have celebrated at your caring tone.

instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“what?”

your frown grew, “what happened? are you okay?”

“yeah,” he stood from his seat, mumbling as he crossed the room to the closet, where he pulled out his sleeping clothes and began to unbutton his day shirt, “i’m fine.”

maybe he expected you to leave it at that. it seemed that’s what he wanted, considering his choice to suddenly switch to his night clothes. whenever he started to undress, you hurried out of the room. this time, though, you were worried about him. actually worried about him.

so you stayed put.

“minho, i can tell that’s not true. you’re upset.”

he scoffed. as if your words had broken some dam inside of him, he let his frustrations free. his hands flew into the air, completely abandoning his shirt, which he had barely begun to unbutton.

“pardon me for not cheering when i see another man kissing my fiancé!”

“you- chan? you’re upset because i was speaking to my best friend.”

you said it more as a statement than a question.

“no,” he took a couple steps towards you, abandoning his sleep it’s clothes over the foot of the bed, “i’m upset because he kissed you.”

“on the forehead.”

“you wouldn’t let me do that though, would you?”

he was right in front of you now. you stuttered before replying, and it clicked in your mind: he was jealous. your demeanor softened.

“you’re mad that i let him kiss me and not you?”

he took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, a small pout on his lips.

the sight triggered something inside of you. he looked so real, so sad. he looked, for a lack of better words, genuinely hurt. it put the notion in your head that maybe he did care more about marrying you than just taking control of your kingdom.

you sighed, walking past him and to the closet, grabbing your change of clothes before stepping off into the bathroom to change. you heard him let out a soft sigh as you shut the door behind you, he must have assumed you dropped the topic. you didn’t know if he was glad that a fight hadn’t escalated or if he was upset that the conversation didn’t get to the point where he could kiss you and blame it on a flurry of emotions and jealousy.

you got into your sleeping clothes and, trusting that he had changed as well, you stepped back into the bedroom without asking if it was okay. you went straight for the bed, wordlessly finding a comfortable position as he slid in beside you. he reached out to shut off the lights and lay flat on his back, taking deep breaths and trying to get himself to calm down enough to sleep when he felt a weight on his waist followed by a warm presence pressing up against his side. he made a small sound of surprise as he looked down.

there you were, arm draped over his torso, cuddled into his side. your eyes were shut and your head rested against his chest.

any frustration he’d felt towards you far gone, he took the chance to wrap his arms around you, securing you to his body as if you were going to run away at any moment. he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. it was so light you wondered if he’d meant for you to feel it at all.

you shifted slightly, keeping your arm around his waist as you offered a small smile against his chest.

“there. even.”

things got easier from then on, although you wouldn’t admit it. you’d dropped your attempts at hating your new fiancé, how were you supposed to dislike him? you hadn’t dropped your hard feelings towards the situation and you definitely hadn’t agreed or started complying to the wedding, but you could bring it upon yourself to keep trying to be cold to minho. not even when the day was filled with wedding planning and dress fitting.

you’d woken up still in minho’s arms, even more so than you’d been when you had fallen asleep. your back was flat against his chest and one of his legs was sprawled over yours, practically trapping you as his arms held you around the waist.

maybe you should have been surprised to wake up that close to him or tried to pry his hands off of you, but you didn’t, and you didn’t want to. you hated yourself for it, but you were beginning to really consider the idea that he was your best bet. maybe complying and marrying him would be safer and more pleasant than anyone else your parents might throw your direction in the future if this wedding got called off.

minho shifted beside you, groaning at the light and removing an arm from your body to rub his eyes. the instant he did it, he dropped his arm back around you and held you close, as if he’d made a mistake by letting you go in the first place.

you laughed, and that’s always a good way to start a day.

it amazed minho how much your attitude towards him could change overnight. granted, you weren’t holding his hand and offering him kisses everywhere you went, but you had started actually initiating conversations with him. you joked with him and allowed yourself to laugh at his jokes, you didn’t even ignore him that much anymore. you weren’t treating him like your soon to be husband yet, but still. you treating him like a friend was better than you treating him like an enemy, even if it’s not what he really wanted.

“oh my god.” you groaned, “if i have to look at one more fucking shade of purple that looks exactly like the last and say which looks better i will absolutely lose my shit.”

he laughed, “you’re the one who said i would look hot in purple.”

you sent a glare his way, but it wasn’t like the ones you used to show him. it was joking, friendly.

“i did not say you’d look hot.”

“i think you did.”

“i can promise you i didn’t.”

“no, i’m pretty sure i remember you saying it. i think your exact words were, ‘oh, how lucky am i to have this treasure of a man as my future husband, i think purple-‘“

he was cut off by a call from the doorway of the room the two of you had been in practically all day, helping choose colors and getting fit for your wedding apparel.

“y/n, prince minho, dinner’s done.”

you knew immediately by the choice of laid back words that it was chan. no one else, not even your other friends, spoke to you like that outside of private.

you turned to the door, “one of these days i’m going to have you tarred and feathered for disrespecting me, bang chan.”

he laughed, “i’m sure you are.”

you met him at the door before minho even had the chance to stand, shoving him lightly.

“i am! watch, i’ll bring it up at dinner.”

he laughed, walking beside you as the three of you made your way to the dining room.

“isn’t it impolite to discuss executions during meal time?”

minho walked silently beside you, it was like you’d completely forgotten his existence once chan showed up.

“i might just break etiquette to speed up your punishment.”

another small laugh from him and then you were walking through the doors and into the dining room. you and minho took your seats at the table and chan took his standing along the wall with the rest of the guard and staff.

you turned to minho, “do you think we’re done for the day, then? or do we have more purple to look forward too?”

he shrugged your attempt at a joke off, trying not to show how bothered he was. so that’s how it was going to be? the second chan leaves, then he’s interesting enough to talk to again?

“maybe they’ll finally start making decorations and the suit and dress.”

either you hadn’t noticed his attitude change or didn’t care enough to react.

“i wonder how quickly they’ll pull things together.”

you really didn’t know. they could rush and work their butts off and you could be getting married within the next week, or they could take as much time as needed for preparations. you didn’t know. and if your parents had any clue, they didn’t bring it up.

their chosen dinner conversations were the same as they had been for the past many nights. talk about the wedding, who was going to be invited. was it bad manners to invite the brides minho had rejected? or was it polite? a good portion of the time not eating was spent with your mother trying to convince you to care more about the wedding. she was wholeheartedly convinced that you’d changed your mind and fallen in love with minho because you were being friendly now. she expected you to care more about the planning now that you didn’t seem so against it.

hurrying away from the dining room as soon as possible by claiming you’d had enough wedding talk for the day, which wasn’t a lie, you and minho made your way back to your bedroom. his earlier frustrations were forgotten as the two of you sat on the bed and talked about various books across the bookshelf.

as it turned out, some of the books ended up having to be put in storage. not for a lack of room, but simply because two copies were not needed. you shared a lot of the same interests.

“i told you,” he said, only half joking, “we’re meant for each other.”

you shoved him, pulling the book from his hands. before you could reply, he was speaking again.

“be careful! that’s my copy!”

you laughed, clutching the book to your chest and turning away as he reached for it.

“not anymore! it’s ours.”

“it is not. that is very much so mine.”

“no,” you insisted, moving again to keep him from grabbing it, “nothing in this room is yours. it’s all ours. or mine.”

he laughed, stopping his useless attempts at grabbing the book.

“yours?”

you nodded, “my stuff is still mine. but yours is ours now.”

with that, he jumped on you, tackling you onto your back. you dropped the book somewhere during the attack and it made a loud noise as it fell to the floor.

“what about you?” he asked, easily keeping you from struggling, “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you stopped struggling, showing him the game was over.

“i don’t belong to anyone.”

you easily shoved him off of you in his stunned state. he hadn’t meant to offend you.

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

you cut him off as you shut the bathroom door behind you, night clothes in hand. you took significantly longer to change than you needed, both you and him knew that. he would have had time to crawl into bed and fall asleep three times over as he as waiting for you, but he didn’t. truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he was capable of falling asleep without you beside him anymore. he might have to test that theory, he didn’t know if you would let him hold you that night after he unintentionally upset you.

just as things were beginning to work, he messed it up. he really hadn’t meant to imply he owned you in any way, he was only trying to be cute, maybe get you to say yourself that you were going to marry him, maybe even that you wanted to.

he didn’t know the exact rules of falling in love, but if he could say anything for certain it would be that he was in love with you. maybe it was when he saw your name on that paper and his fantasy became a possible reality that he really fell, or maybe it was when he saw you face to face for the first time after learning you’d be the one he’d marry, he really didn’t know. he had no clue when it changed from some childish crush into fill blown love, but it did.

was it even possible to be in love with someone you’d only met a handful of times and were only paired to marry a few weeks prior? it must have been. otherwise, how would he explain the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you?

when you finally came out of the bathroom, you silently put your clothes in the basket and crawled into bed. like always, minho switched off the lights and secured the covers over himself, shifting until he found a comfortable position. he was debating in his mind if he should reach out and try to hold you or if that would just make everything worse when you scooted so your back was to his chest, not outright cuddling him but giving the invitation.

he obliged immediately, wrapping his arm around you while the other went to play with your hair. he placed another one of his gentle, barely-there kisses to the side of your head as he muttered a soft, “i’m sorry.”

he didn’t know whether you replied or not, he fell asleep as the last syllable fell from his lips.

you didn’t go as easily. if your internal clock was at all accurate, you’d been laying there for at least two hours, wide awake. you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was keeping you up, probably the wedding, maybe the small fight with minho. either way, you could think of a better way to spend the time as long as you weren’t going to fall asleep.

carefully, you pulled minho’s arms off of you and slowly crawled out of bed, trying your hardest not to wake him up. you stood at the side of the bed for a moment, watching minho to make sure you hadn’t disturbed him, before creeping over to the door. you opened it as quietly as possible and peaked out. neither of the guards stationed outside your room were chan.

felix was on duty though, and he sent you a confused look as you stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind you.

“where are you going? if you need something i’ll get it for you.”

you shook your head, “just can’t sleep. is chan in the bunks?”

felix nodded and you started off down the hallway towards the rooms the guards slept in when they didn’t have night duty.

“hey, wait,” felix called after you, moving slightly as if he were going to follow, “i’m not technically supposed to let you go alone.”

you frowned at him, “it’s literally two minutes away and i’m headed to a room full of guards. i’ll be fine.”

he thought for a moment before moving back to stand in his original position, “fine. but if some hallway demon kills you on the way there that’s on you.”

you chuckled at his joke and made your way through the halls and to the wing that houses all of the staff that lived there. you weren’t technically supposed to go there at night, you weren’t really supposed to even leave your room at night, but none of the guards in the halls tried to stop you on your journey. it wasn’t uncommon for you to visit chan at night, especially not when you were younger. the both of you used to have trouble sleeping and it was much easier for you to sneak out and into his room than the other way around.

you gently opened the door and stepped into the room, heading right for chans bed. there were a dozen other sleeping guards, not all of them from your personal guard, also asleep on their own beds. you tapped chan awake, stifling your laugh when he flinched awake.

you used to wake him at least half of the nights he didn’t have duty, yet he still flinched every time you woke him up.

he looked confused to see you there but he didn’t hesitate to stand and follow you into the hallway.

when there, you went down away from the doors so you could talk freely without disturbing anyone and slid down the wall. chan did the same, seating himself right next to you.

“what’s up? you haven’t woken me up in the middle of the night for a while.”

you laughed, “yeah, i don’t know. i couldn’t sleep. plus, i’ve missed you. even with the guard back, i haven’t been able to spend time with you recently.”

he nodded, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder, “i know. i’ve missed you too.”

there was a brief pause before he spoke again.

“what’s on your mind?”

you scoffed lightly, “i don’t think there’s room for anything other than thoughts about the wedding right now. i can’t even breathe without someone mentioning it.”

chan chuckled, “it is kind of a big deal.”

you ignored him, “i don’t want to marry minho, chan.”

he took a deep breath, “why?”

“why?”

“why? tell me exactly what’s so bad about him.”

you didn’t hesitate before answering, “i’m being forced into it! i didn’t even get a choice, chan!”

he ignored your words, “no, what’s bad about him? not the situation, not the wedding, minho.”

you thought for a moment, wracked your brain for answers, but you couldn’t think of one genuine issue you had against him specifically. you’d actually began to enjoy being around him.

chan waited for a while before he decided you weren’t going to answer.

“it seems to me like you two click really well.”

you shrugged.

“i think you should give him a chance, y/n.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i mean i think you’re upset because you don’t want to get married, not because you don’t want to get married to him. and i think he might be changing your mind whether you know it or not.”

your frown didn’t lift.

“have you ever thought that maybe it’s fate that he ended up being your only option?”

not only did your frown once again not lift, it got deeper.

“i’m telling you y/n, a best friend knows. no matter how much you say you hate him, you’re falling for that boy.”

you cut in without hesitation, “no, i am not.”

his eyes widened and a grin spread across his face, “you are! no one is that defensive when they’re not lying.”

you hit him lightly and he continued, “for real, y/n. i think you like him more than you realize. just play nice for a while.”

“i am playing nice.”

“no,” he said, “you’re acting nice. actually let your guard down around him. let him in. let yourself feel the things you’re feeling for him.”

you grumbled. if anyone was going to be able to talk you into this marriage, it would be chan.

“okay.”

he followed your actions as you stood up.

“do you want me to walk you back?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine. go back to bed.”

he chuckled at your grumpy attitude, pulling you into a tight hug before letting you go. he watched until you turned a corner and he could no longer see you before stepping back into his room.

felix greeted you at your bedroom door.

“no hallway demons?”

“no hallway demons.”

“you’re lucky.”

you laughed at the boy and sent him a weird look to which he smiled in return. just as you had earlier, you carefully retraced your steps until you were back in bed with minho. taking chan’s request for you to try to warm up more to the idea of marrying minho, you secured yourself next to him, wrapping an arm around his torso. although, you probably would have done that even if minho’s name hadn’t even come up in your and chan’s conversation. you were finding that being in minho’s arms while you slept felt good. the thought that being held by anyone while sleeping would be comforting, it wasn’t just minho, crossed your mind before chan’s words echoed in your head.

“let yourself feel the things you’re feeling for him.”

maybe it was that it was minhos arms that made it so gentle and caring. if you thought about it, you couldn’t make a list longer than what you could count on one hand of who you would let sleep in the same bed as you, let alone cuddle you while sleeping. you’d only ever fallen asleep in minho of chans arms. and your parents, of course.

maybe you did feel deeper for the boy than you let yourself realize. maybe, despite every word coming out of your mouth insisting that you didn’t, you wanted to marry him.

several days went by, several wedding preparations were made. it turned out that they’d decided to go the rushed route, planning to hold the wedding ceremony as soon as possible. it was only two day’s out now. even though you still hadn’t even officially stated your acceptance of the wedding, preparations were in full force.

as you studied your reflection and took in the details of the gown you’d be wearing as you walked down the isle, you wondered how hard the seamstress’ must have worked to produce such a gorgeous piece of art in only a few days.

it was the traditional white color and it wasn’t anything overly fancy, you’d made it clear you wouldn’t wear it if it was. despite how quickly it had been made, it was clear it wasn’t rushed. every stitch looked perfect.

there were small embroidered designs along the fabric, popping out against the white of the base. the designs were a beautiful lilac purple, and although you knew that you and minho had chosen the exact shade, you wouldn’t have been able to decipher the shade from any of the other light purples that the seamstresses had in stock.

you assumed that minho had the same purple accenting his suit, but you had no clue what it looked like. your mothers were very adamant about neither of you seeing each other in the wedding apparel before the big event.

you bet he looked amazing.

you continued to admire yourself and the dress as several people checked the fitting, making sure the sizing was perfect and didn’t need any more alterations. when they decided it was, you found yourself not wanting to take the dress off quite yet. you couldn’t help but be excited for the next time you’d get to wear it.

minho was waiting for you when you stepped out of the room and into the hallway. apparently his fitting had taken less time than yours. suits did tend to be easier to size.

you let him take your hand as the two of you made your way to your bedroom. you’d taken chan’s advice and stopped shoving down emotions, and it made you realize how much you genuinely enjoyed minho. as much as you hated the way things worked and the way you got put together, you were beginning to think that maybe it had some sense to it. chan might have been right when he said that minho being your only choice was fate.

you dropped his hand to pick up the watering jug and fill it. he insisted on carrying it to your garden. you made no attempt to take it back when he held it out for you.

“no,” you laughed, “i showed you how to tell if they need watered yesterday. you do it.”

his eyes widened, “y/n, i seriously don’t think you want me to do that, i’ll kill them.”

“you will not,” you giggled, “but fine. i’ll help you.”

you approached the first plant along with him. it was a large basil plant. you didn’t use it for cooking or baking, the garden had plenty of basil that was used to harvest, but this one was just for show.

“check the soil.”

he did as you instructed, pressing his fingers into the dirt to check for moisture.

“i think it’s okay?”

his words came out as more of a question than a statement.

you reached forward and double checked, smiling and clapping your hands together when you realized he’d gotten it correct.

he did the same for the next plant, a lavender bush, claiming more confidently now that it didn’t need watered yet either. you checked, letting out an exaggerated gasp.

“i can’t believe you’re trying to kill my lavender plant. how could you?”

he sputtered, “i’m not! i really thought that it was fine!”

you huffed, taking the water from his hand and watering the plant.

“i can never trust you again.”

you started to check the other plants, watering a few of them. he complained and promised he’d learn better, but you continued to ignore him.

“my own fiancé... trying to kill my babies.”

you only stopped teasing him when he wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you tight and promising into your shoulder that he didn’t want to hurt your plants.

you turned to face him, his hands still resting on your hips.

“okay, i’ll give you one more chance.”

you gestured towards the last few plants you had yet to check, a couple flowers that minho couldn’t what you said were named.

he walked up to them, taking his time to check them before turning to you.

“the yellow ones are okay, the purple and blue ones need watered.”

you eyes him suspiciously as you went to check his claim, breaking out in a smile when you found that he was correct.

“technically, the yellow ones could use a little water, but i’ll say you passed.”

he laughed and watched you water the last plants before reaching out your free hand and taking hold of his. you set the watering can by the door and made your way back to your bedroom where minho dropped your hand and headed to his desk.

he’d grown confident enough in your comfort towards him that he wasn’t afraid to do things like that anymore, drop your hand or break away from a hug. he knew you’d let him hold you again. it wasn’t like less than a week earlier where he felt like you might run away if he didn’t hold you tight enough.

he leaned down and shuffled through some papers on his desk. you recognized them as archery point sheets. he hadn’t been lying when he said he was good, he scored nines and tens easily from distances you wouldn’t have even been able to get close to hitting the target at, even after letting him give you some tips on aiming.

you snickered as you pulled out one specific scoring sheet that caught your eye. it was an insanely long distance round, the longest he’d ever tried yet, and he’d managed to score two nines and an eight.

you laughed as you help the paper up, “an eight? you suck.”

he tried to glare at you, but a smile poked through. you saw him made a move and dropped the paper, darting to get away from him.

he caught you quite easily, tackling you onto the bed. he held you loosely as he straddled you.

“take it back. say i’m the best archer you’ve ever seen.”

you shook your head, smile plastered on your lips.

“take it back!” he whined.

you shook your head again, trying not to laugh.

“whatever.” he released you from his grip, crawling off of you, “this is why i tried to kill your plants.”

you gasped, “i knew it!”

he laughed as he reached for his pajamas, stepping into the bathroom and pulling the door lightly shut. it didn’t close all the way, there was still a small crack. he wasn’t as shy as you were, you’d learned that all too well. you were surprised he even went into the bathroom at all.

he waited until he heard you drop your day clothes into the bin before coming back into the bedroom. he put his dirty clothes next to yours and crawled into bed beside you, following his same routine of shutting off the lights before pulling you into his arms.

as he always did with you there beside him, he fell asleep easily.

you had fallen into a deep sleep as well before something woke you up a couple hours later. you couldn’t say what it was that had woken you, maybe it was nothing at all. regardless, you sat there for a few minutes before realizing you weren’t going back to sleep any time soon. you looked at the boy beside you.

you considered waking him up to keep you company until you could fall asleep again, but decided against it. he looked too peaceful. chan, however, you had no issue waking from a peaceful sleep.

sitting a few yards from any doors leading to people sleeping, you spoke to your best friend.

“am i going crazy, channie?”

he hummed, “probably, but why?”

you sent a light glare towards him before answering, “being kind of excited for the wedding.”

he broke out into a huge grin, “i so called it.”

you frowned in confusion and he continued.

“i said you were in love with him and you so are.”

you shook your head, “i’m not... in love with him,”

why did the words seem foreign?

“i just think i might, i don’t know, actually see us working out, and not just as a royal couple, together to rule. like as a genuine pair.”

he made a sound of understanding, “you’re totally in love with him.”

you didn’t deny it a second time.

you frowned as you approached your bedroom door. there was a faint light peaking out from under the crack in the door. you inched it open to find minho awake, sat up on the bed reading with a single lamp on. he looked up when he heard you enter.

“hey,” you greeted him, “why are you awake?”

he shrugged, “guess i got cold without you next to me.”

you got back into bed with him, pulling the blankets over your legs and leaning over to see what he was reading.

“what are you reading?”

he shut the book momentarily, marking his page with his finger and showing you the cover before flipping it back open and resuming where he left off.

you frowned. it wasn’t like him to ignore you like this.

“is something wrong? did you have a nightmare?”

he shut his book, tossing it to the ground beside his side of the bed. he pressed his lips together.

“yeah, i keep having these dreams that my fiancé is leaving in the middle of the night to secretly meet up with some guy. it’s weird.”

you raised your eyebrows, “who told you that?”

he shrugged, “asked the guard outside the door one night after you left what you were doing, he said you were visiting chan.”

you nodded, “yeah, i do that sometimes, is that an issue?”

he scoffed, “no, i just brought it up for fun.”

you pursed your lips, “really, minho? why does it bother you so much?”

there was no hesitation in his next words, almost as if he’d been itching to say them for a while now.

“is there something going on between you two?”

you scoffed, “seriously? you really think that?”

by now he had stood from the bed, “it doesn’t seem so crazy.”

you stood as well, challenging him as you stepped around the bed and in front of him.

“yeah, it does. it sounds insane.”

he looked you straight in the eyes, “does it? because it makes perfect sense to me. you won’t let me kiss you, you won’t sign the marriage contact even though you know you’re stuck with me, you’re so comfortable around him and you keep leaving in the middle of the night to meet with him in secret. it literally screams affair, y/n!”

“you seriously believe that i would cheat on you?”

“i don’t even think you see it as cheating since you don’t take a single fucking part of our relationship seriously.”

he took a step forward and you instinctively stepped back.

“i do take it seriously.”

he continued to close in on you until your back was pressed to the wall.

“then act like it.”

without thinking, you did just that. you acted.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, crashing his lips to yours. it wasn’t what you’d expected your first kiss to be like, you’d actually imagined it would be at the altar, but you weren’t complaining.

he reacted immediately, hands finding their way across your body. he slid one down your leg, stopping at your thigh and tapping it. you got the message, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. your back collided with the wall and the paintings hung there shook a little, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. not when he tasted as good as he did.

one hand secure on your thigh to hold you up, the other found its way under your night gown and up your bare leg to the bare skin of your torso. he broke away for a moment as his fingers inched higher up.

“is this okay?”

you barely had time to mumbled a yes before your lips were back on his. you hadn’t realized you wanted to kiss him so bad until you finally did.

he let you breathe for a second as he peppered kisses along your neck, his hand exploring your body under your gown. his fingers found their way to your breasts and he squeezed one, causing a soft moan to fall from your lips.

he cursed at the sound, attaching his lips back to yours and turning to walk you to the bed. he easily sat you down, back to the mattress, and hiked up your night dress. you let out another soft moan when his hands finally made their way to your core. he ran his fingers over your clothed folds.

“you swear this is only mine?”

you nodded, “yes.”

“you promise?” he spoke between kisses, “tell me you promise.”

“i promise.”

that seemed to be enough for him as he growled against your lips, slipping his hand down the waistband of your panties.

you struggled to keep quiet as he finally made direct contact to your dripping core.

he cooed, “what, baby? no need to be quiet. who’s gonna hear? the guards?” you could feel his breath against your neck, “is chan on duty? is he right outside the door? let him hear you.”

you could only whine in response as he toyed with your clit.

you made a sound of annoyance when he pulled his hand from your panties, but your disappointment didn’t last for long. he pulled you to sit up so he could remove your night clothes, tossing them god knows where on the ground. he let out a deep groan as his eyes came on contact with your bare chest.

he brought his hands up to cup them, one in each hand.

“you’re gorgeous.”

he let one of his hands fall back to caressing the rest of your body and replaced it with his lips, taking your nipple into his mouth. despite his earlier demands not to try to silence yourself, a hand flew to your mouth as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan for how little stimulation you were getting.

he popped off your breast and licked a long stripe down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your underwear. he glanced up at you to make sure you were still on board before looking his fingers on them and pulling them down your legs. immediately, you tried to close your legs in embarrassment, but he easily held them open.

he placed sloppy kisses to your neck as his fingers teased your entrance.

“has he ever seen you like this?”

“no.”

“you really expect me to believe that?”

“it’s true.” your words came out strangled as he slowly began to slide a finger into your heat. it was unusual and uncomfortable at first, but you got used to it, nearly screaming when he curled his finger and a line of pleasure shot through you.

he hummed, “i can tell you’re not lying, baby. no one is this sensitive if they’ve been fucking their royal guardsman behind their fiancé’s back.”

you whined as he added another finger, “haven’t- haven’t done this before.”

he hushed you, “i know, angel. you’re doing so well, just relax.”

you gripped tightly onto his shirt as he continued to work his fingers inside of you. with a particularly rough curl of his fingers, you felt something inside of you let go and a wave of pleasure flowed over your body. you let out the most heavenly sounds as minho worked your through your orgasm and he felt a swell of pride knowing that he was the only one who had ever made you feel so good. he was the only one who would ever make you feel this way.

he rode you through your orgasm before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. you tugged are the bottom of his shirt.

“are you sure, baby?”

you nodded, far too worked up to let out coherent words. he complied, slipping his shirt over his shoulders and ridding himself of his pants. you stared at his chest, reaching out to touch his skin before you even realized you were doing it. you slid your hand down his body until you came in contact with his hard length. he hissed as your hand wrapped around him, slowly stroking him. you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his cock as you basked in the sounds he made. the sounds you made him make.

he reached down and grabbed your wrist, “baby, i won’t last much longer if you keep this up.”

you nodded, reluctantly letting him guide your hand away from his length. you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your fingers in his hair as you felt him like himself up with your entrance.

the noise you let out when he began to sink into you could only be described as divine. minho had to stop for a moment and recollect himself, he really wouldn’t last long if you sounded like that at every move he made.

after a few moments, he was fully buried inside of you. he waited for you to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out, only to roughly slam back into you.

he had every intention of going slow and being gentle for your first time, but everything, from the way your pussy felt wrapped around him to the way you moaned out his name was too much for him.

despite his previous remark for you to let yourself be loud, he guided your face to his shoulder when he became genuinely concerned you may wake the entire castle.

“bite down.”

you did as he said, sinking your teeth into the flesh of the junction between his shoulder and neck. he let out a sound that made you think for a moment that you’d bitten too hard, but when you released your grip he groaned out, asking you to do it again.

he brought his hand between your bodies and began running slow circles onto your clit as his cock worked magic inside of you.

“im close. gonna fill you up, is that okay?”

you barely managed to get out a yes through the pleasure you were feeling.

“fuck, gonna let me fuck my babies into you, huh?”

he adjusted your legs and the new angle plus his fingers working expertly on your clit threw you over the edge.

“you’re going to be a great mother one day.”

you bit down hard on his shoulder as you came, only releasing the grip to tell him how good he was making you feel.

he came soon after, muttering praises and gushing about how good you did. he groaned as he gave a last few thrusts, watching as his and your cum leaked out with every thrust of his hips. the sight nearly made him hard again.

he pulled out, grabbing his discarded night shirt and wiping his length off before tossing it to the side again. he leaned back over you, connecting his lips to yours to swallow the whine you let out when his fingers connected back to your core.

he collected the cum that had dripped out and spread itself along your thighs and onto the sheets, pushing it back into you with his fingers.

he hushed you as you whined from overstimulation, “i know baby, i know, but we don’t wanna waste any, do we?”

you shook your head.

“no, we don’t. that’s my good girl.”

he connected his lips back to yours, “you’ll look gorgeous with my baby in your belly.”

you were honestly too fucked out to process anything that was happening, just laying there and letting him do what he wanted. despite the discomfort the overstimulation brought, you couldn’t help but complain when he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them on his night shirt and slipping your panties back onto you.

needless to say, you slept easily after that.

you were beyond sore the next morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. the achy legs and raw throat were worth it.

you hurried to get dressed and shower off the sweat and other substances on your body the next morning before hurrying down for breakfast. minho had showered with you, insisting that since he made the mess, he should clean it up.

although your parents had already been confident that you’d changed your mind about the wedding, if anyone had doubts, including yourself, they were long gone.

a drastic change from even just the day before, you and minho stole kisses nearly any time you could. leaning over to grab the salt? kiss. walking past him to grab a book? kiss. sitting down waiting for more orders on how to help prepare for the wedding that was only a day away? kiss, kiss, kiss.

you’d been so caught up in your newfound love for kissing your fiancé that you didn’t even notice as chan snuck up to talk to you.

instinctively, minho’s arm tightened around your waist. he believed you when you promised him that you and chan were just friends, but he was still protective.

“so... hyunjin tells me i was right.”

you frowned in confusion, “what?”

“hyunjin said i was right. he had guard duty outside of your room last night and he told me you really warmed up to minho overnight.”

you nearly choked on your own spit at the realization that not only had your guards, your friends, heard last nights events, by the sound of it, they’d told everyone else.

minho didn’t even try to his hide proud smile has you blushed, covering your face in his chest.

chan turned to minho, “i knew she’d fall for you eventually. she used to gush about how cute you were when we were kids.”

you opened your mouth to protest, “that is not true.”

it really wasn’t. maybe you’d mentioned that he was easier to be around than many of the other royal, stuck up kids, but you had never said anything close to what chan claimed.

chan turned to minho, nodding his head as he scratched his nose, “it’s totally true.”

“it’s literally just not.”

he made a sound of disagreement.

“that is a big fat lie and you know it!”

you reached out to hit him and he dodged it, making a scene out of saying felix called him before hurrying away. you turned to minho.

“it’s not true.”

he shrugged, “it’s probably true.”

“it’s not!”

when you walked down the isle, minho could have swore his heart stopped. you looked gorgeous. the dress framed you perfectly and the delicate flower crown placed on your head looked just on you. he made a mental note to compliment whoever had planned your full outfit.

the closer you got, the more minho worried that your vows would be droned out by the sound of his heart beating against his rib cage.

you finally stepped in front of him, letting him get a clear view of you in your dress for the first time. you weren’t much better, speechless as you took in how handsome he looked. your felt your eyes began to well up at the realization of what was happening. who would have known you’d be crying from happiness, not disappointment or fear?

your eyes met minho’s own glassy ones and you let out a small laugh, speaking so only he could hear.

“i was right when i said you’d look hot in purple.”

2K notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 3 years

Text

Crossing Paths - drabble from the Crossfire universe

request from @excusemyuwus -

I remember Tae said he had a crush on her while working on that project so now I kinda want to see his pov of that time and how he was holding being around his crush lol, not gonna lie gangster Tae all nervous bc he like someone is something want to see (also imagine how much the guys would tease him uwu)

tumblr ate your ask when I tried to answer it, sorry! this is the only part I had copied, but if it ever resurfaces, I shall answer there. for now it is still refusing to cooperate so I am posting like this! (update: the ask just returned, it is here)

~pairing: taehyung x reader ~word count: 1.4k ~pre-relationship, fluff, angst, slice of life, mafia au, college au ~rating: g ~warnings: vague mention of gang activity, this is a gang au after all, but it’s not particularly prominent

~a/n: thank you for your great request! this was so nice to come back to, I am so sentimental about this series as my first bts fic🥰takes me back to when I was just getting into bts… it felt hard to do it justice! because of this, sorry it took me a while to write, but I wanted to do it well, and again I kept the theme of making my ‘drabbles’ wayyy longer😅final big thanks to the site being frustrating and eating drafts and such🙃🙃but here it is, finally seeing the light of day! I hope you enjoy it x

“I can tell something’s on your mind, Tae.”

Jimin stared coolly at his friend. Looking over his shoulder guiltily as he unlocked the door, Tae found the other boy with his hands in his pockets, looking expectant.

All Tae could do was shrug as he elbowed the door open, heading to ditch his bag.

“Hey, Jimin’s right.”

A light flick on Tae’s forehead made him startle, looking up to find Hobi grinning, though his head was tilted to one side in question.

“What is it?”

Jimin’s shoulder nudged his own as they sunk into the sofa.

Tae checked his phone.

“It’s just a project for class, don’t worry about it,” he pocketed his phone, ignoring their gazes, “I gotta meet with my partner in an hour.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t staying that long anyway,” Hobi slumped down too, having helped himself to a drink from the fridge, “I’m on watch with Yoongi across town.”

As the discussion turned to this week’s jobs and deals, Taehyung rested his head back against the sofa. The sounds of his friends’ conversation was like static. Instead, he was picturing the scene in class earlier, as the slideshow was flipped to show the project partners on the screen.

Tae hadn’t been too fussed, idly playing with his pen lid as he searched for his name. But when his eyes fell on it, he sat up straight.

Having only bumped into you a few times in class, he had never expected his heart to be hammering quite so hard as he quickly scanned the room for you. Sliding his things away, he had walked towards you as everyone began to file out, meeting you halfway as you did the same.

Leaning against a desk to keep his jittery hands occupied, he grinned at you.

Your returning smile, he noticed, was much more nervous, only flickering into existence for a wavering second. The two of you had only a brief conversation to sort out when you would meet, before you had practically scurried away.

His eyes had lingered on you as his smile slowly sank.

Unconsciously poking his tongue against his cheek, Tae wondered if you were afraid of him.

“Hey!”

A finger clicked sharply in front of his face. He blinked back at Hobi’s grin, Jimin bursting into laughter at his side.

“Just a project, my ass,” Hobi shook his head, dumping an empty bottle on the coffee table, “don’t wanna be late, do you?”

A radiant smile was tossed over his shoulder as Hobi left the room, front door clicking soon after.

Sending his best friend a knowing look, Jimin also gathered himself to stand.

“Have fun tonight, yeah?”

He winked. Tae protested, shooting up from the sofa with an affronted look.

“So it is a special someone?” Jimin giggled.

“You’re impossible,” Tae grumbled, trailing after him to the door, “it’s just a project, I told you.”

Jimin hummed in a way which made it very clear he didn’t believe him.

“Don’t scare them off, tiger,” he remarked, stepping outside.

Tae’s shoulders slumped. He was certain that was just what he had already done.

“I’m busy tonight. And my house isn’t free, so I can’t have anyone showing up here.”

Namjoon chuckled across the line.

“All this for a college project?” Clearly he had heard about this from the others. “If you could lend Kook some of your commitment to school, that would be great,” he teased.

Sighing, Tae spun around to survey the road outside his window, ruffling his own hair.

“You’re very funny, but I need to go. See you tomorrow.”

Tae was certain he would never hear the end of this from the others. It was true that he had firmly set aside time for your meeting today, even if it was only for a minor college presentation. But it was important to him.

He knew that this was the only time he would get together with you, and though it would end as soon as the presentation was given, he couldn’t help but want to make the most of it. At your last meeting, he had been largely distracted by the dizzying height of your apartment, leaving him shying back from any windows.

So this left you with his house today instead.

Arriving soon after Tae’s phone call, you were both soon seated on his floor. Though you mostly worked in quiet with occasional, quick conversation, it was not awkward. Your legs lay close together under the coffee table as you scribbled away diligently on its surface.

Glancing over the lid of his laptop as his fingers hung idly, Tae sighed. Watching as your pen swirled across your notebook, he let his eyes drift across your focussed features.

He swallowed as he did so, teeth tugging his lip. A light frown came over your features. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your lips as your pen lifted to your mouth, resting between your teeth as you mulled the work over, eyes flitting about the page.

Eventually, the lack of tapping at his keyboard must have got through to you. You raised your head.

Too late to divert his gaze, Taehyung cleared his throat and muttered a proposal for a break. Eager as well to put your work aside, you clambered from the floor to join him at his offer of a drink.

Moving through to the kitchen, he made casual conversation, asking after your dad. Last time there had only been a brief meeting, as he met Tae at the door before you hurried him away.

Picking up on his offer to chat, you teased Tae for his fear of heights, giggling over how he had screwed his eyes shut whenever he had come within sight of the view from your windows.

Of course, Tae tried his best to roll his eyes at you, but the smile dragging the corners of his mouth refused to be suppressed.

He poured your drinks. When he turned away to put the cartons back in the fridge, he took a breath, trying to settle himself. Why did he feel so flustered?

Squaring his shoulders a little more, he turned back, only for his hand to catch one of the glasses. It clattered against the surface, barely leaving time for him to jump back and avoid being splattered with its contents.

You hopped from your seat, ready to help.

Swallowing down his shock, Tae scratched at the back of his neck to hide his slightly trembling hand.

“Don’t worry,” he quickly muttered, flashing a nervous smile as he gathered towels and set to cleaning up.

Soft laughter followed from you. Still, you reached across to help.

Righting the glass and taking one of the cloths to clear up, your hand came concerningly close to Tae’s own. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the countertop, his cheeks warm even as you finished and he was rooting in the fridge again for a refill.

You seemed miraculously unfazed by his flailing, though, he noticed as you finally settled beside each other sipping your drinks.

“So it went well?”

Jimin nudged a reluctant Tae, eyebrows wiggling all the time.

“Yes, fine,” Tae groaned, trying to shrug him off.

Jimin did stop, but only in favour of staring at his friend with doleful eyes.

“Don’t be like that. You’ll see her again. You literally share a class!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tae refuted.

He even halfway believed it.

You had got on well together, but surely not more than could be expected of most classmates? He sighed a little as he thought of it. It had been fun, but there was no excuse to spend any more time with you.

Besides, sparing one night to work on a project was a little different to becoming friends, or even more…

There was a reason the bangtan boys stuck to themselves.

But as he reminisced, he knew he had a soft spot for you, even if it should come to nothing. The project was over, the presentation given, but he still remembered the way you bounced with excited relief after you had finished talking to the class. Your face was glowing as you high-fived him with a grin, the work having paid off.

There was still a hint of nervousness though, and you had only given a timid smile and a small ‘see you later’ before heading out of class.

And that was the end of it.

But Tae smiled to himself. It had been fun, and he knew he wouldn’t be sorry if you ever crossed paths again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments super appreciated always!!

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @un2-verse @ddaechwita @taegularities

#thebtswritersclub #taehyung x reader #taehyung mafia au #bts mafia au #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #btscreatorscorner #bangtanarmynet #purplearmynet #vantaenet #taehyung fluff #taehyung college au #bts college au #mafia bts #bad boy bts #bad boy taehyung

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free-pancakes · 3 years

Note

WRITE A LEVIHAN FIC ADTER THE FIRST WORD YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU SEE THIS LETTER: H

Alright moon, i thought of H for Hawkeye. Not sure if you're a Marvel fan, but here goes. I got a little carried away bc I love an AU where Hange is Hawkeye and Levi is Black Widow.

hope you like it <3

Levi held the tesseract in his hand, staring at its mesmerizing, light blue glow as he held it up to his face.

“Looks like we’re here for the same thing, huh, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi quickly pulled the cube close to his chest, revealing someone standing on the other side of the room, staring right back at him. Her big brown eyes glowered behind thick-lensed classes, brown hair tied messily in a high ponytail. She swiftly reached back to reveal a bow and arrow, now pointed directly at him.

“If you hand it over, I promise I won’t kill you!” She said playfully.

Levi frowned and grit his teeth in annoyance.

“Are you mocking me, Four-Eyes?”

She laughed heartily— “Well, people usually call me Hawkeye, but you know what? I’ll let you call me that instead!” With that, she launched her arrow at him, Levi’s reflexes so fast, he dodged it right on time. However, he didn’t expect the arrow to explode.

The blast blew Levi off to the side, and soon Hange already had a hand gripped on his arm. He twisted to grab it, throwing Hange down right on her back. Levi reached for his gun, but she was too quick—Hange punched upwards to launch his handgun from its holster, sending it across the room. Levi quickly countered with a kick, sending Hange’s bow sliding across the tiled floor.

Off they were into hand to hand combat, each punch caught by the other, every kick countered with a dodge. Levi was thrown for a loop. He’d met his match.

It was the most frustrating fight he’s had for awhile, yet, he found himself smiling—and he could have sworn he saw a smile on her face as well.

Suddenly, explosions sounded from the ceiling, confusing Levi. Hange had already set the explosives prior to meeting him.

While he was distracted, Hange grabbed the tesseract, but Levi countered quickly, sending the cube flying. Levi ran as Hange scrambled for her bow. When she turned, a huge chunk of debris came falling towards Levi.

“Levi—wait!” She yelled. Luckily, she sent an explosive arrow towards it, blasting it and preventing it from crushing Levi. Smaller pieces showered down, but to Hange’s dismay, one piece of debris was still much too big. Levi stared up and it hit him straight on the head, his vision going black.

Levi woke up suddenly, quickly sitting straight up. His heart raced, and sweat beaded on his temple as he tried catching his breath. Disoriented, he looked around fast, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Once he came to his senses, he gasped and stared downwards—Hange was still asleep, her head rested on his lap. Safe.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned back, staring up at the walls of the metal air vents they had been hiding up in for the last 5 days. Little scratches in the walls of word games, tic tac toe, stupid things to fill the time as they waited on the go from Erwin.

But Levi’s thoughts quickly switched back to dwelling upon his dream—clearly the first time he met Hange had been on his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They went from enemies to… whatever this was, real fast. This was their 10th mission together, and here they were, stuck hiding out in a small space inside the air vents of a subway station in Budapest. After finishing this mission, Levi would be taken in as a trusted agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. It was crazy how fast the tables turned for him—in a good way, for once.

He looked down, and rubbed the back of his hand against Hange’s cheek to wake her up. Her eyebrows furrowed as she woke, turning up to face Levi, giving him a little smile. Levi ran his fingers over the side of her covered eye, scratching away at the dried blood clinging to her skin.

“Get up, Hange. We have to change the dressing on your eye.”

Hange stretched sleepily, and sat up. Levi grabbed some supplies, and knelt in front of her, peeling the medical tape and gauze away carefully. He brought an alcohol pad, wiping away the dried blood.

“Can you see?”

Hange opened her eye.

“Yes, don’t worry! Though I’ll probably just have a nasty scar to remember this mission together forever!” she exclaimed with a tired laugh. Her persistent optimism never failed to surprise Levi.

“There’s been something on my mind, Hange.” “Oh, and what’s that?”

Levi hesitated, but continued with his burning questions—they spilled out of him so fast he couldn’t control himself.

“Why did you choose to save me that day? Why didn’t you just take the tesseract and run? Why did you think I’d be someone that should work as a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why—“

Hange laughed. “Suddenly so talkative, Levi!”

Levi grumbled. “Just, can you answer??”

Hange grew silent for once. She thought back to when she was tasked to learn everything she could about Levi, following him all over the world. She remembered when her turning point was—a time when Levi planted explosives in a building, but rushed back in when he realized three innocent children had been lurking around where they shouldn’t have been. And that was when she learned something the world didn’t—Levi Ackerman wasn’t truly the cold-blooded killer everyone thought he was.

And she took her chance on that.

“Hm, well, I could almost say the same to you! Why did you choose to trust me? Why did you decide to stay with us? You had every chance to leave, it’s not like we had you imprisoned or anything this entire time?”

Levi thought about their first meeting—how he had never met someone else that matched an equal combat ability to himself. It grasped his attention quickly. But what really drew him to stay, was that Hange genuinely trusted him, stood up for him… believed in him. No one had ever done this for him since he was a child—only his mother ever did.

Levi laid the new set of gauze on Hange’s eye, and taped it down snugly.

Their true thoughts lingered in their heads, but neither of them could bring themselves to say their reasons out loud. Their eyes met for a moment.

A beeping roused them from their trance.

“Oh, must be Erwin,” Hange said with nervous laughter, trying to ignore the intimate moment they just shared.

She read the alert message. “Levi, it’s time to go,” she said with a serious tone.

“You ready to take down Zeke once and for all?” She said with a devious grin.

Levi smirked. Of course he was ready to fight with Hange—fighting back to back with her might actually be his absolute favorite thing in the world.

“Let’s do it.”

#levihan #levihan fanfic #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #avengers au #marvel au #lkafja;sldkf i love marvel so much and this was so fun to write oh gosh #wahhhh i loved it way too much bc im a big nerd #thanks for the ask moon!#ask #replies

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in-superbloom · 3 years

Text

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

nonono I need more ANGST part 3 for out of his grasp/out of their grasp were reader comes back as a ghost like Ghostbur but remembers bad memories so she doesn’t remember Dream or George

Out of Their Grasp

{THIS IS THE NEW UPDATED VERSION BECAUSE APARENTLY THE FIRST VERSION WASN”T ANGSTY ENOUGH}

{real talk though I thought maybe I could change this to be more angsty cause I didn’t think the ghost thing would work}

requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”

and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”

{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}

Dream x George x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt

premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions.

{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.”

You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions.

George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense.

“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently.

“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him.

Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.”

George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”

Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!”

“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered.

The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.”

The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.”

-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for-

“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!”

You glared at him. “The King is no fool.”

“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back.

You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.”

He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed.

“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.”

He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”

“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.”

“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.”

You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.”

Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.”

“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.”

~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move.

You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.”

“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured.

“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.”

Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-”

“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.”

Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.”

“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled.

“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!”

“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”

“What about Purpled?”

You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.”

“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder.

In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.”

As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own.

There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’

“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak.

“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?”

George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-”

“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?”

George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.”

“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked.

The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”

Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s.

“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.”

The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”

Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.”

You sighed, tracing an absent pattern on George’s side, listening to Dream’s ramble about how dangerous the idea that had been decided on at the meeting was.

“Finding peace is the priority, you can’t can’t change that.” George mumbled.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous!” Dream protested.

“It’ll be fine, We’ll have a perimeter set up with guards and everything. I’ll make sure none of them can even get near him with such intent.” You yawned.

The blonde huffed, “That just makes me more worried.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your hand blindly sought his, “I’m going to do everything in my power to keep the ceasefire from being broken.”

“I know.” Was the only quiet response you received.

The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men.

“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction.

“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm.

After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.

George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.”

“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled.

“Hey!” Dream protested.

“I’m not wrong!” You teased.

George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.”

“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself.

“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns.

Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!”

“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.

~~ The last few days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close.

Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it.

The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked.

“What’s going on?” Punz asked.

“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!”

Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!”

Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village.

Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people.

“About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!”

“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword.

Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat.

He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you.

Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?”

His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.”

Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name.

The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.

The invaders, or what was left of there battalion began to retreat, but still Dream could find no sign of you, the now all too quiet valley erupted into noise as another skirmish broke out.

Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.

You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.

He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.

You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.

“(Y/N)!!”

You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.

“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.

“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms, “You-ou had t-to go distract-ing me.”

“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”

You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would G-George say if he saw you here cuddling m- m- me without him? Huh?”

“(Y/n)....”

“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never real-really planned on being r-r-ran through with a spear this morning.”

“It’s gonna be okay! It’s- it’s gonna be okay!” Dream desperately pushed your hair out of your face, head whipping around to where the royal soldiers were beginning to regroup, “WE- I need a medic! Please! We need a medic!”

It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound so distraught, gently you reached up to his face, “Dream- Clay, leave it alone, they won’t be able to- to do anythi-ng.”

You coughed again as he turned back to you, “Don’t say that! Don’t say that!”

“It’s just my time d-d-darling,” You gasped at the pain brought by him trying to pull you closer, “You- you gotta let go.”

“NO! You’re not gonna die! You’re not gonna leave! I won’t let you!”

“I d- don’t have your permission to d-die?” The spots floating in your vision began to grow larger, blocking out spot of his face, and the sky.

“No! You don’t! You’re not leaving! I’m not letting you!” He said desperately.

“You’ve- g-got too...”

He glared down through the valley, barking out, “I said I need a medic! Someone! Please! They need help!”

There were people hurrying up the hill now, not that you could see, as Dream continued to yell.

The spots began to grow even bigger, merging together until darkness fully overtook you and you slipped from there grasp, “I’m sorry...”

Dream tore his gaze from the approaching medical team, looking down at your now limp body, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-”

“You can’t leave! You- your not allowed to leave us! You- you can’t- I- I didn’t give you permission to die!”

He blubbered, still trying to pull you closer to him, as if he held you tighter you wouldn’t have slipped away.

“You can’t go! I didn’t say you could go! You can’t leave! You can’t.....”

Then people were pulling you away from him, and Sapnap was pulling him up, and leading him away.

“Your highness, news of the attack on the boarder has returned.”

George stopped his anxious pacing a Wilbur led in a scarily calm Technoblade and a visibly shaking Dream into the room, Sapnap still with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What happened? Where’s (y/n)?”

Dream started to shake more at the mention of your name, and Techno stepped forward, “(y/n)- died in combat two days ago.”

George stayed silent, so he continued, “They died a hero’s death defending our kingdom.”

The king waved them away, “Out, please.”

Wilbur nodded, and quickly Sapnap and Technoblade followed him out of the room, leaving Dream to slowly move toward George, pulling him into his arms, tears coming from both men.

“It was my fault. They were fighting- an- and I distracted them.”

“You- you what?” George croaked.

“I wasn’t thinking,” He said quietly, ducking his head as George pulled away, “Th- they died in my arms George!”

“Wh- what have you done?”

Dream looked at him in shock, “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what happened.” It was a command, said in a way Dream had never heard directed at him.

“I got there- there was fighting, when the fighting died down I still couldn’t find them- then I heard another fight- on the ridge, I got up there, and It seemed like they had won, I yelled there name- and-” He broke off, barley muffling a sob.

“You all but killed them yourself.” George muttered.

“I didn’t- th- I- George.” Dream grappled for words.

“You killed them.”

“I didn’t! George I know it’s my fault, but-”

The King just shook his head, turning and silently stalking out of the room.

The castle seemed to stay in mourning for weeks, the kings council having to take over as the king stayed shut up in his chambers, refusing to talk to anyone.

The King’s Knight became more and more vocal during meetings, providing insight on how to get back at the enemy, amplifying Sapnap’s voice.

Then, as plans were being finalized, Dream was met by another figure as he sat in front of your grave.

“You think this will make up for what you’ve done?” Georges voice was horse, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days, though still laced with the same venom as when he’d found out.

Dream nodded, remaining quiet as he traced the hilt of his blade.

“Tomorrow then?”

Again Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:

‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thousand armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dreamwastaken x reader #georgenotfound x reader #dream x george x reader #teddy06 writes

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babypandawrites · 3 years

Text

Allies, Pt. 12

The Siege of the North, Part Two

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: Implications of Death, I think that's all? Word Count: 3,286 Summary: With the Fire Nation waging war on the Northern Water Tribe, you didn't expect things of the past to be brought up, but, when do you expect anything at this point.

Note: And here we have, the final part of Allies :') But don't worry- the story will continue in a sequel 👀 Phew I did not mean for this to take so long, but I was having a really hard time with the end and ended up having to change where the reader was towards the end for me to... actually be able to write the chapter. Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed the story thus far! It means the world to me, really. It's crazy to think about how I've been working on this for four months! I hope you guys will stick with me for the months to come while I write the sequel :') I'll be carrying over the taglist to the sequel since it's the... same story just a different name heh. Let me know if you want to be added or taken off! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and that you all have a great day! <3 Also hi sorry bringing this poll back up bc the results are currently tied!!!

-Navigation- | -Atla Masterlist- -Last Part- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Next Part-

Taglist: @boomeraangin | @brokennerdalert

Eyes blinking open, Y/n slowly came too. Her vision was blurry, and her head was pounding. Faintly, she could hear someone talking, but her head was too fuzzy to make out who it was and what they were saying. Her vision clearing, she could see a rocky ceiling, which seemed… odd. Was she in a cave?

When she tried to sit up, she found that she couldn’t move. Her arms were trapped against her sides, and her legs were bound together. Groaning quietly, Y/n twisted onto her side. Aang was on the ground a few feet away from her, hands bound behind his back. He didn’t seem… present.

Observing the situation more, she noted the figure that stood at the entrance to what she was assuming was a cave. They were still talking, and her head was finally clear enough to make out what they were saying.

“I don’t need luck though, I don’t want it. I’ve always had to struggle and fight and that’s made me strong. It’s made me who I am.”

Struggling weakly against her bindings, Y/n furrowed her eyebrows together. “..Zuko..?”

His head turned to the side slightly, an acknowledgement that she was awake, but he didn’t turn to face her. “Don’t bother trying to get free, I’ll just knock you out again.” He paused for a short moment. “Sorry about that, I just.. I knew you wouldn’t give up. You never have.”

Zuko had… taken her too. Why…?

Grunting, she continued to struggle against the rope, stopping only when Zuko rested his hand on her arm. “What did I just say? Did I knock you in the head that hard?” Sighing, Zuko settled on the ground next to her. “I’d prefer if you didn’t make me knock you out again. You probably think otherwise but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Opting to stay silent, she shuffled in place. He watched her carefully, before awkwardly looking about once she stopped moving. He took in a deep breath, when she started shuffling again. “Are you.. uncomfortable?” Being met with silence, Zuko glanced at Y/n to see she was looking at him with a blank expression. “I can sit you up, if you want.”

Not receiving an answer once again, he let out an annoyed breath. “Conversations usually go both ways, Y/n.”

Still, she looked at him blankly. “I don’t think people typically converse with their captors, Zuko.”

“Well, we used to be friends!” Crossing his arms with a huff, Zuko slumped against the cave wall. “I guess the key phrase is ‘used to be’, isn’t it?” He clicked his tongue, before breathing out a sigh. “I didn’t capture you to turn you in, we could… still be friends.”

Y/n took on a pensive expression. “Then why..?”

“Why did I capture you..?” Receiving a nod of confirmation, Zuko shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You don’t… know..?”

“No! Okay?! I just-” Breathing out another annoyed breath, he dropped his head into his hands. “Why? Why did you leave? I thought… I thought we had each other's backs and… and you just up and leave?! Just like that?! No explanation, no nothing!? So why?!” Continuing to stay silent, Y/n grimaced internally at the rise in Zuko’s volume. The more he spoke, the louder he got. It was almost hard to imagine that this was the boy she grew up with.

Zuko scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “Fine then. It doesn’t matter anyways- You’ve chosen your path.” He let out a laugh, one edging on hysterical. “You know, I thought maybe I could sit here and convince you to come back, but I can see that isn’t going to work… The Avatar and his friends have won your favor.” He was silent for a moment, seemingly calming down from his outburst. “Uncle told me that I shouldn’t be mad at you, that I should respect your decision to find your own path. How can I do that when your so-called path is going against me?”

Before Zuko could continue, Aang came too, returning from the spirit world. Attention turned to the boy, when he started to struggle against his bonds. After a short moment of futile struggle, he sat up to face Zuko.

“Welcome back.”

“Good to be back.” Aang spoke with a threatening tone, blinding reaching around with his hands- which were tied behind his back -to try and find Y/n’s wrist. Once he was able to grab onto her wrist, he took in a deep breath and blew Zuko away from them while simultaneously shooting both him and Y/n out of the cave. The two landed in the snow outside, where Aang started to caterpillar crawl.

It didn’t take long for Zuko to get to them, grabbing Aang by the collar and lifting him in the air once he did. “That won’t be enough to escape.”

Suddenly, Appa appeared above them, before landing on the ground. Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Katara got off the bison, as Zuko dropped Aang back into the snow. “Here for a rematch?”

“Trust me, Zuko, it’s not going to be much of a match.”

Katara blocked a fireball Zuko shot at her, sending a wave of ice towards him. Once the ice reached him, she encased him in a pillar of ice that she raised high from the ground. When she dropped him, he fell to the ground unconscious.

Sokka jumped off of Appa, rushing over to Aang to cut his bonds. “Hey! This is some quality rope!” He commented, before moving to Y/n to free her as well.

“We need to get to the oasis! The spirits are in trouble!” Aang got up, and ran to Appa, while Sokka helped Y/n to her feet.

Everyone was on the bison, ready for take off, but Aang hesitated on leaving, looking towards Zuko’s knocked out form. “Wait, we can’t just leave him here.”

“Sure we can. Let’s go.”

Y/n shook her head softly. “No, Aang’s right, we can’t leave him. He could die.”

Aang jumped off Appa, and grabbed Zuko to bring him up onto the bison. Sokka watched him with a somewhat exasperated expression. “Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let’s bring the guy who’s constantly trying to kill us!”

As they started to fly back to the Spirit Oasis, the moon changed to a blood red, casting a red light over everything. This seemed to affect Yue, who held her head in pain, letting out a groan.

Sokka looked at her concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I feel faint.”

Aang, with a hand to his head, looked at the moon. “I feel it too. The Moon Spirit is in trouble.”

Yue glanced at the moon as well. “I owe the Moon Spirit my life.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka questioned.

“When I was born I was very sick and very weak. Most babies cry when they’re born… But I was born as if I were asleep. My eyes closed. Our healers did everything they could. They told my mother and father I was going to die. My father pleaded with the spirits to save me… that night, beneath the full moon, he brought me to the oasis and placed me in the pond. My dark hair turned white, I opened my eyes and began to cry- and they knew I would live. That’s why my mother named me Yue, for the moon.”

They neared the oasis as Yue finished her story, to find Zhao there- a bag in hand and Momo on his head trying to stop him from what he was doing. The group got off Appa when he landed, sans Yue and Zuko, ready to fight Zhao and the other Fire Nation soldiers in the oasis.

“Don’t bother!” Zhao held a knife to the bag he had, which must have had the Moon Spirit trapped inside.

Aang dropped his staff, raising his hands in surrender. “Zhao! Don’t!”

“It’s my destiny… to destroy the Moon… and the Water Tribe.”

Y/n glared at the man, resisting her urge to attack him. “You’re insane.”

“Destroying the moon won’t just hurt the Water Tribe. It will hurt everyone- including you. Without the moon, everything would fall out of balance. You have no idea what kind of chaos that would unleash on the world.” Aang tried to reason with him, but Y/n wasn’t sure words alone would stop the man.

“He is right, Zhao!” Heads turned to Iroh, as he approached.

“General Iroh, why am I not surprised to discover your treachery?” Zhao spoke in a bored tone.

Iroh lowered his hood. “I’m no traitor, Zhao, the Fire Nation needs the moon too. We all depend on the balance.”

Unsurprisingly, Zhao continued to hold his threat on the Moon Spirit, the knife he held at the bag it was captive in not dropping.

“Whatever you do to that spirit I’ll unleash on you ten-fold!” Iroh pointed a finger at Zhao, before taking on a firebending stance. “LET IT GO, NOW!”

After a moment of stillness, Zhao faltered, lowering the bag. He kneeled and released the fish of the Moon Spirit back into the pond. The red light casted from the moon returned back to normal.

Seeing something move in the corner of her eye, Y/n’s attention moved to the right, just in time for her to see a figure sneaking away. Careful not to draw attention to herself, she followed after them, noting that Zuko was missing from Appa’s saddle as she snuck by. He was taking the chance to sneak away, while everyone was focused on Zhao. If she had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t be getting far.

In her pursuit, the moon fell dark, probably thanks to Zhao. It’s not a surprise that he would try and kill the moon spirit, even after letting it go. Keeping her distance and staying as hidden as she can, Y/n continued to follow Zuko- Only stopping when he did. Eyebrows furrowing together, she watched as he shot a blast of flames to a lower area from where they stood- Which was shot at Zhao.

The man stopped in his steps, looking up at Zuko incredulously. “You’re alive?”

“You tried to have me killed!”

He shot several more blasts at Zhao, which he was able to dodge. When he tried to run off in the other direction, Y/n moved quickly to grab her bow and an arrow, shooting it at the ground in front of him. Both Zhao and Zuko were shocked by this, not having noticed her before.

“You tried to have him killed?!”

Zhao’s gaze darted between the two, before primarily focusing on Zuko. “Yes, I did. You’re the Blue Spirit- and enemy of the Fire Nation! You freed the Avatar!” Pausing, he pointed to Y/n. “And her!” His words dripped with venom.

“I had no choice!”

Zuko fired several more attacks at Zhao, while Y/n readied an arrow- though she waited to shoot it until the right moment. Zhao avoided the attacks, removing and dropping his smoking cloak as they subsided. “You should have chosen to accept your failure- your disgrace! Then, at least you could have lived.”

Returning the fire, the two end up in a short exchange of attacks, before Zuko blasted Zhao in the chest, knocking him down. Having seemed to realize Y/n was waiting for the right moment for attack, Zuko glanced at her. “Now.”

Though she didn’t need his signal- In quick succession she fired two arrows at Zhao, one pinning his sleeve to the ground, the other pinning his pant leg. The two jumped down to the lower level Zhao was, landing on either side of him as he struggled to free his clothes from the arrows. Zuko took on a firebending stance, while Y/n pulled another arrow through her bow. They both waited to attack, watching the man carefully.

Finally wiggling the arrow free from his shirt sleeve, he scoffed, looking between the two. “Two traitors working together again, hm? I’m not surprised at this point.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes when the Admiral quit trying to wiggle the arrow pinning his pant leg down free, quickly pivoting on her heel at realization. Twisting to the side, she narrowly dodged the arrow when he threw it at her. This initiated the fight once again, Zuko sending a relentless stream of attacks. Realizing her bow wasn’t going to get her anywhere in a close range fight, Y/n hooked it away onto her quiver, running at Zhao while he traded fire blasts with Zuko. She grabbed onto his arm as he tried to send an attack at the prince, yanking it to the side so the blast shot to the right. He twisted his other arm to send a fireball right into her face, which she was able to duck away from as she released his arm. The momentary distraction gave Zuko the opening to shoot a powerful blast at Zhao, knocking him back a bit.

Unable to keep his attention on both of them at once, Y/n was able to swipe her leg at his ankles while he was focused on Zuko, knocking him down. Not relenting, Zhao shot a blast at Y/n, catching her off guard and knocking her down. She rolled out of the way of another blast, before Zuko helped her off the ground- While firing at Zhao. The two looked at each other briefly, sharing a nod.

Running at Zhao once again, Y/n twisted, ducked and dodged the attacks sent at her, while also giving room for Zuko to send his own blasts at the man. Once close enough, she started throwing punches at Zhao, taking his attention in the fight. The close proximity of the fight didn’t stop him from using his fire, leaving parts of her clothes to be singed. She ducked when he tried to punch her with a blazing fist, giving the opening for Zuko to send another powerful blast at Zhao, knocking him down once again.

He didn’t get up this time, rather looking past the two with a horror ridden expression. “It can’t be!”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/n turned to see what he was looking at- The moon. In the heat of the battle, she hadn’t noticed it started to shine bright once again.

Suddenly, water rose up coalescing around the bridge they were on, taking the form of a large fish like creature. It reached out and grabbed Zhao, pulling him off the bridge. He struggled against it, before Zuko reached out to him. “Take my hand!”

For a moment, it seemed like he was going to grasp onto Zuko’s hand, but instead drew back- an expression of hate taking over his features. Zhao was taken under the surface of the water, disappearing. Crossing her arms, Y/n looked at the surface of the water in near disbelief.

Silence lingered in the air, it only being broken when Zuko quietly cleared his throat. Looking up from the surface of the water, she glanced over at him. He took a minute, before speaking up.

“Listen, Y/n… I’m… sorry. For everything. I- Ugh, what am I even trying to say here.”

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. “That you’re sorry?”

“Yes- Wait, I already said that..” He breathed out a sigh, holding a hand to his forehead. Laughing softly, she held out her hand.

“Truce?”

He hesitated for a moment, before grasping onto her hand, a soft smile tugging up his lips. “Truce.”

Tugging him a step closer, Y/n put an arm around his neck, bringing him into a hug. Zuko tensed at the action, but returned it nonetheless.

“We can still be friends..” Mumbling quietly, she broke away from the hug. “But I need to get back to them.”

“I.. understand.” He paused. “Actually, no, I don’t. But… I won’t stop you.”

Offering a small smile, she slipped past him, intending to go back to the oasis. She stopped on the way there, however, seeing that her friends were gathered. Katara waved her over, inviting her into the group hug they were currently sharing. Running over, she joined them, a wide smile on her face.

---

Sea water gently splashed up against the sides of the boat, spraying past the railings. The more Y/n sat with her back against them, her head leaned back, the more the back of her shirt and her hair dampened from the water. Eyes closed, she took in a deep breath. With her terrible track record on boats, she didn’t know that being out at sea could be so… relaxing.

“Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head softly in response. “You can’t either?”

Sokka breathed out a quiet, somewhat tense, laugh. “No..” He paused for a short moment. “Do you mind?”

Opening her eyes to see that he was motioning to the space on the deck next to her, Y/n offered a soft smile. “Not at all.”

Muttering a small thanks, he gave a weak smile in return, before settling down next to her. He sat close enough for their shoulders to press together, the close proximity made her heart race.

Silence lingered over them for a long moment, before Y/n spoke up. “I heard what happened… With Yue.”

Breathing out a soft sigh, Sokka tilted his head back, looking up at the moon. “Yeah… I figured you would.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up but- I just wanted to say if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always right here.”

“Thanks..” He paused for a moment. “You know, I went to that shop you were working at once when you weren’t there. I was trying to catch you there, that… didn’t work out- Obviously.” He breathed out a quiet chuckle, digging into his coat pocket. “But I did meet that lady you worked for, and she asked me to make sure this got to you.” He held out a bracelet, the one she’d been looking at in the shop before she started working there.

Her eyes widened slightly. “I forgot about that.”

“That’s why she asked me to give it to you. Let me see your wrist.” He tied the bracelet around her wrist, once she held it out to him.

“Thanks.” She spoke with a smile, twisting her wrist slightly causing the stone to glint in the moonlight.

“It’s no problem.” Smirking, he took on a slightly teasing tone. “I didn’t expect you to be a jewelry person.”

Pressing a hand to her chest, she feigned an over exaggerated offence. “Just because I lived in a forest and can fight better than you doesn’t mean I can’t like girly things.”

He looked at her offended. “You cannot fight better than me!” She leaned a bit closer to him, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna test that theory?”

Falling silent, he gulped. “No, I think I’m good.”

They were both quiet, before breaking into a short fit of laughter. Leaning back against the boat's railing, Y/n hugged one of her knees to her chest.

Once again, silence fell over them. After a few moments, a sudden weight was on her shoulder. Tensing slightly, she looked to the side, to see that Sokka had fallen asleep- His head now leaning on her shoulder. She opened her mouth to wake him up, but stopped herself.

Something in her didn’t want to wake him up… The closeness was… Nice.

Letting her eyes fall closed, she leaned her head back, absentmindedly fiddling with the bracelet tied around her wrist. She felt so calm, but still her heart raced, and she wasn’t sure why.

With certain thoughts and memories coming to mind, however, the pieces started to fit together.

And it was in that moment, Y/n realized.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar the last airbender x reader #atla x reader #reader insert #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #team avatar #slowburn #book one allies

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series.

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones.

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks?

But apparently, you did.

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone.

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve.

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin) falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now. Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence.

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question. Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips.

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall.

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby."

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes.

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you.

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck.

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace. It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing.

"Let me take you on a date."

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week.

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away.

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right.

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be.

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes.

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony.

"N-no!"

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out.

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed.

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful.

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one.

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance.

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible.

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth.

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future.

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you.

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

#jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts smut #bts #pjm #pjm smut #bad bunny is retiring like who the fuck does he think he is to decide when he gets to retire???#nah bb WE decide when you retire

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