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mangolover · 4 years

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Christmas Get Together - Ikevamp Mozart fanfiction

Title: Christmas Get Together

Prompt: “Oi! That’s my hot chocolate!”

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire / Ikevamp

Pairing: Mozart X You (F!Reader)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: cringy fluff

Spoilers: No spoliers that would ruin Mozart’s route. GO READ IT, I LOVED IT AND I JUST FINISHED IT YESTERDAY!

Word Count: 1900+

Description: You suggest that residents and Will have a little family get together on the Christams day since it’s a modern tradition and after a fun snowball fight, you decide to make yourself some hot chocolate.

Enjoy!

Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates it! I wish You a wonderful day and some amazing gifts! 💖

It wasn't a common tradition to celebrate Christmas in the 19th century France like it is in present time. But since it was your first December in Le Comte’s mansion, you decided to propose the idea of having a little “family get together” to Comte. You were even ready to invite William Shakespeare, even if some of the residents like Theo and Leo weren’t too happy with that idea. Comte was aware of the celebrations that were happening in the present and he was more than happy to help you organize your little gathering.

You, Comte and Sebastian discussed everything that was necessary.

“Is there any way we can get even a fake Christmas tree to decorate? It’s a common tradition for families to gather together on the Christmas Eve and decorate it, putting the star on the top and then place the presents under it, telling kids that Santa put them under.”

“I’m sorry ma chérie, that might not be possible on such a short notice,” Come de Saint-Germain said with an apologetic look on his face. That was understandable, after all it’s not a tradition yet. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

“So, we will have to discuss all the meals we need to make. Not to mention baking all the cookies,” Sebastian was making a mental check list and mumbling to himself. That really sounds like a lot of work, though.

Half an hour late, you three have planned everything and the only thing left to do was inform all the residents and send an invitation to Will. As you were walking down the hall, collecting dirty sheets to wash, you heard the melody of piano coming for the music room. It was a new composition, that was for sure. It was a happy melody, filled with love and leaving a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest. Playing the piano was none other than your lover, a talented and famous Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. You knew that you had work to do and that he wouldn’t mind you coming into the room to listen to him playing, but you decided to sneak up closer to enjoy that feeling just a tad bit longer. You put the basket with laundry down and crept up to doors to music room on your tippy toes, holding your breath and trying to make as little sound as possible.

But like any other time, Mozart heard you and stopped playing. That startled you and you tried to get away unnoticed, but failed miserably as Mozart opened the door with a raised eyebrow. You turned your head around and gave him a sheepish smile. He just let out a little sigh, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you meine liebe? You’re always welcome to stop by and listen, no need to try sneaking up on me.”

“Sorry, I kind of get lost in that melody you were playing. It’s perfect for this winter time.”

“Why do you think so?” He asked, a puzzled expression on his delicate face.

“Well, in future we celebrate this holiday called Christmas on 25th of December. And all the Christmas songs leave a fuzzy and warm feeling in your chest, just like this one.” You explained with a smile on your face. Christmas was your favorite holiday ever, “that reminded me! We’re having a little get together in the mansion that day. Everyone will be there, even Shakespeare.”

On mention of William’s name, Mozart made a bitter face, but he knew you were getting along just fine with him. You respected him and you would sometimes go hang out with him and Vincent when either Vincent asked you to accompany him or when Theo asked you to look out for him so that, and I quote, “Snake”, can’t manipulate him.

“So, can I count on my lover to be there as well?” You asked sweetly.

“You know I can’t leave you alone because you would end up doing something stupid.”

“That last part was uncalled for!” You pouted, “but I’ll love you, so I’ll forgive you if you give me a kiss.”

Mozart happily obeyed your wish and kissed you tenderly on your lips, placing his hands on your cheeks. When he pulled away, you quickly bid him farewell with a quick embrace and then you went to do your usual work, excited about the upcoming event.

And so, preparations started. Everyone has been informed and most of the residents were eager to help you prepare for this, dear to you, modern holiday. You even got shy Isaac to join you, but under one condition. You, Arthur and Dazai are not allowed to make fun of him. And Theo was only helping and attending because Vincent made him and Napoleon bribed him with his pancakes.

When the 25th of December finally arrived, you were ready to eat till you were sick and then relax in the living room where Mozart would his new composition that left you feeling so warm and fuzzy the last time you heard it. Of course, you had to beg him and bribe him with chocolate, but he promised that he will play it, only because you are the one that asked him to do it.

That morning you woke up before the dawn and got out of Mozart’s bed, trying not to wake him up. You silently got ready for this special day and got down to kitchen to help Sebastian with the breakfast and slowly started making the special lunch menu you and him have settled on. Residents slowly started piling up in the dinning room as they woke up, getting their rouge or blanc and some breakfast if they wanted.

Fast forward to lunch time. You helped Sebastian serve everyone a meal and then grabbed yourself something. All 13 of you sat down at the table and everyone silently turned their heads toward you, staring.

“Uh, do I have something on my face?” You asked nervously and gently outstretched your hand towards a napkin.

“Could you all not stare at her, please?” Mozart lowered his gaze, “you’re all clearly making her uncomfortable.”

“My apologies Mozart,” Comte chimed in with a polite smile, “we’re all wondering what we should do next.”

“Oh, I forgot about the traditional toast, I’m sorry everyone!” You apologized and slowly rose to your feet, gently raising your glass and softly calling: “I wish you all a merry Christmas, I’m really happy I have this amazing opportunity to celebrate this holiday with my family, and that includes you too William. So, I wish you all a pleasant rest of the day and I would once again like to thank You all with all your help and for this opportunity, I love you all”, you finished with a smile on your face and everyone smiled, even Mozart, Jean, Isaac and Theo and followed your lead, rising their glasses and wishing each other a merry Christmas.

After the wonderful lunch, you all moved to the living room where the piano from the music room was moved so Mozart could play for you all.

“Remember, you owe me a chocolate,” he whispered in your ear before walking and settling down at the piano followed by the applause of the audience. His fingers flowed from one key to the other, a soft smile on his lips. He was in his own world now and you started at him in awe. No matter how many times you watched him play, you were always fascinated by it. You’re sure you will never get bored of his playing.

Few nice comments and one more applause arose from the residents and yourself as the last note faded and Mozart dipped in a little bow, announcing the last part of this get together. Qualitly family time!

“Okay everyone, settle down” you spoke, “now is the time for some Christmas stories and hanging out.” And so, you told them of many modern Christmas stories, some happy and some sad. And when you noticed the sunset begging to appear, you suggested to go out and have a snowball fight in the garden.

“Got you Hondje!” Theo called out as he hit you right in the face with a snowball. The impact made you stumble backwards and you fell on your bum. You quickly wiped the snow of your face and opened your eyes only to see Mozart’s worried face a few inches away from yours, tinting your cheeks a slight rosy color. “Are you alright, meine liebe?” Mozart asked, his voice full of affection and worry.

“Yeah, I’m alright don’t worry Wolf” you smiled and he got to his feet, only for Theo to make his way to you and hold out his hand, “I’m sorry hondje, here.”

He helped you to your feet and you laughed, shoving some of the snow you picked up before you took his hand, right in his face. This irritated him and you had to start running for your dear life as other residents laughed. “I’m sorry Theo, please don’t kill me!”

“Come here Hondje, I just want to talk!” He shouted behind you, throwing some snowballs your way.

“Theo, be gentle!” Vincent yelled out of concern for you even if he knew Theo wouldn’t hurt you.

“Eeek! Let me go!” You screeched with surprise as Theo caught up to you and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He had much longer legs after all. He carried you back to the group of residents that have all scattered around as Comte and Leonardo teamed up and dominated over them, throwing seemingly endless number of snowballs their way.

“Well Theo, that’s no way to treat a lady” Arthur said with a teasing smile, rising from his hiding place only to get hit by a snowball.

“You’re going to make our little Wolf jealous,” Dazai chimed in, giving away his safe spot, only he managed to avoid getting hit.

Theo put you down and you couldn’t stop laughing, clearly having the time of your life as you ran to Comte and Leo and joined them in shooting other residents.

And so, your little snowball fight continued on late into the afternoon. You all only returned back in to the mansion because you were all freezing and your hands felt numb. Some of the residents decided to go and warm themselves in thermae while some decided to go back to their rooms, seeking a change of clothes. You however decided to go change into some warm and dry clothes and then head to the kitchen.

You wanted to make yourself some hot chocolate since that would definitely warm you up and you always remembered drinking it as a kid in the winter. But just as you poured the hot beverage into your mug, you felt someone’s warmth against your back and saw a delicate hand reaching for it.

“Oi! That’s my hot chocolate!” you turned around ready to fight anyone who might try and take you favorite drink from you, only to see Mozart with a smirk on his face.

“As I already said, meine liebe, you owe me some chocolate, so I’ll be taking this now” he said and stepped to the side.

“Whatever, I’ll just make myself another one” you said with a little sigh and a shrug.

After you put the milk on the stove you stole a glance Mozart’s way, only to see him with a childlike grin on his face as he slowly sipped his hot chocolate. You had to place a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle back and not ruin that adorable sight that surely warmed your heart and made this Christmas the best one so far.

The end!

#merry christmas #here have some christmas fluff #ikevamp #ikemen vampire mozart fanfiction #ikemen vampire #ikevam mozart #ikevam #ikevamp mozart #ikemen vampire mozart #ikevamp mozart fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #🥭

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redspaceace-writes · 4 years

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Without You - (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Request: Pls, how about a little angst one, about Tommy having a breakdown at the readers funeral.

Author's Note: Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you enjoy. I ran across a song while I was shuffling my music, and I thought it really fit for this request. Also, I am so sorry this took so long. I rewrote this twice and just couldn’t figure out where I wanted to take this story.

Word Count: 1,141

Warnings: Angst, s a d, brief hate of gypsies and gangsters

Tags (open):

Forever: @starwarsprequelfangirl

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Tommy stood at the front of the pack of Shelbys, Grays, and Y/L/Ns, his back facing them. Tension accompanied the overwhelming gloom, crowding the air. Thomas was suffocating under its weight- as if choking on his tears wasn’t enough. He had no more words to offer as a condolence for the families.

“Now,” Polly started, taking hold of the situation. “I propose we head to Thomas’s lovely home and get shit-faced.” Surprisingly, no one objected.

A family rivalry took shape the second you locked eyes with Tommy. You “met” while on a stroll with your sister. He stuck out like a sore thumb on the London streets. He wore his usual attire: a black cap, a black overcoat, black trousers, and black shoes. The only color he adorned outside of his monochromatic outfit was within his irises. That day, blue became your favorite color.

You continued home with a smitten smile and thoughts of a stunning stranger. Your sister yapped the entire way, giggling about the man you ogled. When you both stepped into the house, the first words said were about you.

“Y/N/N met a man today,” your sister tattled. Immediately, your father tensed up, raising his head from the newspaper. He makes eye contact with you, a frown decorating his features.

“Oh? How lovely,” he sarcastically replied.

“Daddy, it was just some stranger standing on the pavement,” you defend. “He was on the other side of the road. I didn’t even speak to him.” Your father grumbles disapprovingly and goes back to reading the paper. You spin around to face your sister, scowling at her grin. She scampers toward her room. You roll your eyes and shake your head at her antics, unloading the groceries onto the kitchen counters.

Another trip to the market was the next time you happened upon the alien man. He was in the same spot at last time, but this encounter was different. Due to being distracted, you didn’t see the person headed toward you. The collision caused you to drop your held items, forcing you to listen to the venomous words from the angry woman. Apologies flew from your mouth in an attempt to calm her down. She ended up stalking off, grumbling to herself.

“Are you all right?” A deep voice asks, startling you. Your gaze meets the man you’ve seen twice.

“Yes, I’m okay. Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” you shyly admit.

“I saw,” he smirks. A blush creeps onto your cheeks at his confession. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you answer, grasping his extended hand.

“Pretty name,” he replies, pulling you up. Smiling, you remove your hand from his and accept his open arm. The conversation consisted of more small talk as you led him back to you house. Unlike awkward first encounters, this one was comfortable. He made you laugh, and the sound was music to his ears. He was mysterious, and that piqued your interest. Arriving at your residence, you sighed heavily.

“This is me,” you state, grimacing at the sudden awkward air. Before Tommy could reply, the front door opened, revealing your father. You expected him to be livid – fuming and red. He maintained a calm façade, but underneath you knew he was steaming. He approached your nameless partner, staring the man down. Neither broke from the battle until you cleared your throat. Your father, not breaking eye contact, commanded you go inside. Afraid of the consequences if you disobeyed, you hurried through the door, shutting it behind you.

Before setting the newly bought belongings on the kitchen table, you set your ear upon the door. Hushed voices could be heard, and you knew that whatever was said couldn’t have been good. You rushed upstairs to your bedroom, avoiding being caught eavesdropping. Dusk had settled upon your return and, wanting to bypass the scolding from your dad, you dozed off early. Unfortunately, sleep did not come easy, your mind riddled with worry.

The next morning you came down for breakfast to find your father seated at the dinner table, newspaper in hand like normal. Your mother and sister were nowhere to be found. Retrieving your desired cuisine, you sit across from him. Upon taking your first bite, your father speaks, giving you his full attention.

“Y/N, I never want you to see that man again,” he says. “The Shelbys are nothing but bad news. I will not have my child associate with those gypsy gangsters. Am I understood?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear. He grunts his approval and you both return to your previous activities.

Needless to say, you met the Shelby male again. For you, the third time was yet again accidental. For Thomas, it was purposeful. You also learned his first name that time around. He persuaded you to go against your father’s wishes. You returned home with a name and a promise of meeting Tommy again. You continued to see each other up until he asked you to leave your family to be with him. You agreed and, without a care of your father disowning you, went to live with your most loved one. To your surprise, he proposed that night too. And the rest is history.

Now Tommy is alone in a sea of headstones, an empty stare fixed upon your grave. He’d once again lost a game with Death, His prize your life. That night, Thomas broke down harder than he had in years. He collapsed to his knees, hands gripping the top of your headstone. He suffocated on his tears, screaming a broken sob.

Unbeknownst to him, Polly watched from afar. She hadn’t gone with the families, feeling she needed to stay for Thomas. All the Shelbys loved you, and having you ripped away tore everyone to pieces. Wiping away her proof of sadness, she approached Tommy, crouching to his level. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing slightly. He didn’t move away like she thought he might. Instead he spoke.

“She’s gone, Pol,” Tommy choked out. “Why is everything I care about taken from me? Why did I choose this life? Why do I always lose?”

She doesn’t know how to answer his questions without making him feel worse, but she wonders the same things. They stay in that position well past nightfall, cold and soaked from a long-lasting drizzle that accompanied them. Tommy eventually slipped into unconsciousness, exhausted. Polly wakes him and she drives them to his home.

She guides his defeated form to a guest room, knowing he won’t sleep in the bed he shared with you. She seats him on the edge of the bed, laying him atop the covers. He was already half-asleep by that time and leaves with a farewell kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, Thomas,” she whispers, softly closing the door, engulfing the room in darkness.

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

Requests are open! Check out what I write for and my masterlist if you’d like to read more from me!

Posted: July 7th, 2020

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader

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enviedear · 4 years

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that damn american ᵗʷᵒ

quadpot and miniskirts

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n l/n cheers her brother on for the first quadpot game, and draco is unimpressed by blaise’s love of your miniskirt.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 1.5k

*:･ﾟ��*:･ﾟ✧

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

chapter twooooo hehe i’m going to rec two songs from the playlist for this chapter, gold by brockhampton and the chain by fleetwood mac (side note - that would be a great mashup) now, enjoy the second chapter.

it’s been a week since your first day and today is the first quadpot match. you’re eating breakfast with your friends, and mulling over how in the world you’re going to make a halftime routine work with only six girls, when a deep voice calls for you.

you look up to find blaise zabini, “yeah?” you ask.

“i was wondering what a cheer team does. draco’s saying you just yell on the field.” he questions, face utterly calm.

“dude please don’t get her started this early in the morning.” quinn groans, putting a hand to his face.

you make a face at your brother, “actually we’re meant to entertain the crowd. we dance and we stunt. you’ll understand later. i can promise you i do more than yell.”

blaise shrugs and returns his gaze back to draco, who’s glaring at you.

you raise your eyebrows at him, “staring is rude you know.”

the boy doesn’t respond and instead takes a sip of his pumpkin juice.

“hey y/n, i think ally is calling for you, good luck with the practice.” sophie tells you.

you smile at her and make you way to your co-captain. when you reach her, she’s fumbling trying to carry her poms, speaker, and water bottle.

“hey girl, any ideas on how we’re supposed to make this work?” she asks, walking out of the dining hall, you not far behind.

“we haven’t had time to make a new routine so let’s just go with the last year’s homecoming dance and the stunts from our practice before summer.” you say as you both enter the quidditch field.

on the field are the remaining four girls, stretching and laughing.

“alright ladies, i hope you remember the dance from homecoming. now up, we’ve got a game to cheer.” you smile.

lucky for you, your team - well the fraction of it you have - is easy to work with and before practice is over the routine is perfect.

“y/n, do you know where the uniforms are?” ally asks, looking through the trunk full of quadpot and cheer gear.

“i think they’re under the brooms.” you say, leaning down to look yourself.

ally grabs the brooms, and sets them down, going back in for the uniforms. she comes back up with a smile on her face and begins handing them out to the girls.

“thanks,” you say to her as she hands you yours. you look at the rest of the team, “the boy’s are about to be out here to practice so go to your dorms, change, eat lunch, and be back here at exactly 4:00.” you tell them.

they nod at you and sprint for the castle.

you and ally continue clearing the field and after five minutes the boys’ are behind you.

“hey y/n.” your brother greets, grabbing his broom from the ground.

“hey quinn, good luck tonight.” you smile.

“i appreciate it, but we’re playing horned serpent. and even though we’re down to half a team, they’re going to get pummeled.” he laughs, shoving sebastian.

you roll your eyes at the two of them and bid them farewell before making your way to the slytherin common room.

you head straight for your dorm and are met with april and sophie laughing profusely.

“what the hell did i miss?” you ask, looking at the two of them.

“bitch, april made that video from last night one of those gta ‘wasted’ memes and i sent it around the school. i just got a snap of draco reacting to it and, holy shit, it’s too good.” sophie laughs.

you snatch the phone from her and watch the video. draco is sat outside on a bench talking with zabini when a pukwudgie, davis, comes up to him, holding out his phone and telling the blond to play the video. after a short lived moment of draco and blaise asking what exactly the phone is, draco plays the video. you see his face grow bright red and begin insulting the video, yelling ‘just wait until my father hears about this’.

“that’s beautiful.” you chuckle, giving sophie the phone back.

“i think draco’s my favorite person i’ve met so far.” april giggles. “he’s such a spoiled brat. it’s amazed me.”

the three of you continue talking as you slip into your uniform. the black and orange colored top and skirt are tight on your body. the top is decorated with the wampus emblem and the skirt is simple with a small slit on the left side.

“i think those skirts get shorter every year.” april winks, smacking your ass.

“oh shut up, let’s grab lunch before the game, i’m hungry.” you smile, grabbing your poms.

you and your friends enter the dining hall, scoring seats near the head of the table.

you grab some roast chicken and a hefty helping of potatoes and begin scarfing down your food.

you and your friends don’t talk much, finding the food much more important.

“you eat like a starved house elf.” draco says, sitting beside you.

“keep up the insults and i won’t throw you a wampus tee-shirt during the game. you’d feel pretty left out without one.” you smirk, taking a bite of your chicken.

“well, y/n, i’d love to get a shirt,” blaise grins. “so long as you keep that uniform on for the rest of the night. i’m fond of the skirt.”

you let out a shocked laugh, “jeez buddy, i didn’t know it took one tiny skirt to win you over. wait till you see the rest of the team, you might have a heart attack.”

blaise laughs and draco seems wildly uncomfortable between the two of you. you’re enjoying the little game blaise is playing with draco.

“so what’s the routine for tonight’s game?” sophie asks.

“we’re dancing to gold, the song we used at homecoming, and doing the pyramid from last year’s spring pep rally.” you say.

“i love that song. and the dance is hot, i’m so glad i get to take you back to my room once it over.” april teases.

you wink at her, “i’m going to be the one in control tonight, baby.”

the three of you laugh.

“you’re going to be doing more provocative dancing tonight? great. let the whole school know you’re a bin-” blaise interrupts draco, “we’re excited to see it.” he says.

draco rolls his eyes, smiling ever so slightly.

‘so he’s enjoying this too’

soon enough, it’s game time. the boy’s enter the field and you and the rest of the girls and crowd cheer them on. the game is fast and your brother leads the wampus team easily.

come half-time, the horned serpents are tired and ready to have the game over. but wampus house, and the rest of hogwarts, is awake and wild. the routine you preform with your team is a hit instantly and the hogwarts students soon become acquainted with all the cheers.

when the game finally ends, you rush to give your brother a hug.

“you did so good baby brother!” you giggle, pinching his cheek.

his curls on his head are a mess, but the smile on his face doesn’t fade.

“did you see when i threw the quad at finn,” your brother chuckles. “blew up right in his stupid face. i mean that play was legendary.”

you’re about to respond before the wampus team lifts your brother up heading toward the locker room chanting, ‘l/n! l/n! l/n!’.

you stick around after everyone else to clean, telling your team to enjoy the rest of their night. you finally make it to the slytherin stands, ready to clean up the copious amounts of wrappers and cups.

“i don’t need your help.” draco says, emerging from the stands, holding a bag full of trash.

“sucks. i’m already here.” you shrug.

draco groans, “this a prefects’ job. i don’t need some dumb american to help me.”

“you’re not doing a good job at pretending to hate me. and isn’t there two prefects?” you ask.

“i don’t have to pretend. i don’t like you now and i’ll never like you. you’re just so loud.” he shutters.

“answer my next question.” you command, taking the bag of trash from him and picking up more.

“of course there are two prefects’, but parkinson neglects her duties.” he huffs.

“then what’s the issue with me helping again?” you smirk.

draco sighs, defeated, “i guess you’re right. i still don’t like you though.”

“fine by me, draco malfoy.” you smile.

after a few minutes, the two of you are done and walking back to the slytherin common room.

“you know, you’re not the worst company.” you tell the boy.

“thanks, you’re okay.” he says, giving you a teasing look.

“so are we cool?” you ask before stating the password to the common room.

just as draco is about to reply, the door opens and shows the two of you a vibrant scene.

the slytherin common room is in the midst of a party.

you look to draco and see him looking utterly pissed.

‘this should be fun’.

#—myfics !#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x poc! reader #draco x black!reader #draco malfoy series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #draco x ilvernmorny! reader #draco x american! reader

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calpops · 5 years

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finding forever | c.h.

Summary: He found solitude in running away from himself. He detached his emotions and left them on coffee stained paper bound by leather. Flickering fluorescent lights bid him farewell as he escaped a world in which just one touch decided fate. A world in which a future could be erased and taken by another. But when ink fades and becomes replaced Calum may find he’s on the path to finding forever. A soulmate au.

Word count: 6k

***

Snow lined cement and halos of light pooled down to glimmer against the glaring white from the street lamps lining the sidewalk. Calum felt the cold creeping past his bones, settling into his bloodstream and reaching his heart. Night always brought the cold back, but he preferred to feel the numbness tingle at his fingertips, it took the focus away from the burning loss that stained his skin. He trudged on through the snow, boots scraping the ground as he faltered to pick up his feet completely. He left a trail in the freshly fallen tufts and brushed himself off once he reached the cover of an awning. His late night rendezvous with a cup of bittersweet caffeine kept him awake but it also managed to keep the dreams at bay and left little room for doubt. The bell above the door announced his arrival to no one; the small diner always sat desolate at this hour, no patrons filled the pleather booths and the minimal staff had disappeared into the back.

Calum slid into the booth that had become a second home, the worn seat a familiar comfort, the stained tabletop an easy pattern to trace with restless fingers. He did not need a menu, he was nearly certain he had the two laminated pages memorized by now. It wasn’t the french fries drowned in vinegar or the slices of apple pie with extra flaky crust that kept him coming back. It was the privacy. The feeling that the rest of the world was drowned out behind venetian blinds, even if they were hung askew and rips in the paper let twinges of the city’s lights slip past. The aged waitress Calum had come to know and love poked her head out from the kitchen, gave him a knowing smile and headed back in; his usual order not forgotten. They both knew it stayed the same, Calum was determined to ensure that some things would never change.

His fingers found a familiar pattern on the tabletop, his wrist ached and fading colors that once seemed so permanent were a reminder that even the best things in life were not promised. Forever was just a concept and change happened. Whether he willed it to, wished it wouldn’t or was indifferent. Change was inevitable. Time would not stand still. The hourglass on his wrist was a lie. Grains of sand frozen in place upon soft skin was merely a facade; a glamorous illusion that gave false hope to something Calum had only ever known to be immutable. He didn’t know another soul who’s tattoo had been covered by another. Only her hourglass which had vanished and been replaced by the jagged lines of hearts beating in time with each other; all from the touch of someone else.

Self doubt kept him awake, jolted his body from sleep and ran rampant through his mind into the early hours of morning. He found solitude in running away from himself. He detached his emotions and left them on coffee stained paper bound by leather. Flickering fluorescent lights bid him farewell as he escaped a world in which just one touch decided fate. A world in which a future could be erased and taken by another. He scrawled out words he hadn’t dared to say to her though they burned at the back of his throat and sat heavy on his chest. He tore out the pages and crumpled them in frustration; scrapped them and left words behind.

The waitress came out with the first round of fresh coffee as Calum flipped open his journal, thumb fidgeting with the eraser on the top of the pencil in his grasp. Some nights words came easy; the fluid motion of the lead unstoppable as he poured pieces of his heart and soul onto paper. Other nights his hand stayed still, mind reeling; thoughts unable to translate to the page. What he could jot down got erased, eraser bits blown off the page until the remnants of lead and wrong words made a mess of the page. Tonight was the latter. His mind was cluttered and the ache in his wrist kept his hand from moving. He thanked the waitress with a smile and head nod, sleep deprived mind and body craving a kick of caffeine. Calum’s mind was chaotic yet at a standstill as he took his first sip of coffee and let his shoulders roll back, grip on his pen loosening.

The silence of the diner save for the rare clatter from the kitchen was calming. The city slept and Calum ventured to find something more than four walls that reminded him of a past he would never get back. She was too much a part of it all, her paint color took over the walls, her decorative pillows were still stacked in a pile at the foot of the bed. He couldn’t sleep in a room she had created of her own tastes and abandoned for something—someone—better. The storm made up of things that never would be anymore broke as the bell at the entrance dinged. Calum’s gaze shot toward the door as it opened. A woman walked in, hair wind blown and jacket undone although snow still fell from the sky. Calum couldn’t imagine the bite of the air on exposed skin other than digits that went numb in mere minutes. She came into the diner in a light flurry, as graceful as snowflakes blending into piles of white.

Calum straightened his posture, curious eyes following as she did not hesitate to slide into a booth just one away from his. For a moment he wondered if she was aware of his presence or if the world around her was as much a whirlwind as she was. He considered it for a moment; until she looked up and their gazes met in a soft collision that left Calum winded. He wrote it off to surprise, never once had his private escape been intruded upon; the ridiculous hour usually kept people away. Three in the morning was not for the masses. It was for slow heartbeats, soft sheets and safety only slumber could provide. Only those weary yet wired truly knew three in the morning. Calum couldn’t help but question why it seemed she was no stranger to such a time.

She let the corners of her mouth upturn ever so slightly, ever so slowly; easy eyes somehow softening even more as Calum couldn’t find it within himself to look away. From the steady gaze her eyes kept on him he figured neither could she. Sleepless nights painted exhaustion subtly across her eyes and Calum knew his mirrored hers. The silence of the diner was nearly palpable; the only thing Calum could hear was his heartbeat thumping in his ears; the rhythm reverberating through his entire being. Had the moment not been interrupted by the waitress cutting past Calum to get to the new customer’s booth he might have recognized the moment for what it truly was.

The waitress set a mug down as if in the same practiced way Calum’s coffee was ordered without words and delivered with familiarity. As the waitress disappeared into the back once more Calum dared himself to break the veil of tension and silence with the rise of an inquisitive eyebrow and a guessing smirk.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she stated while Calum questioned—words said at the same time making smirks deepen and eyes brighten.

“Mind if I join you?” Calum asked after taking a moment to gather enough courage to form the words.

He wasn’t sure why he asked. All he knew was that he was in motion as soon as she gestured for him to join; giving him a nonverbal okay with eyes following his every step and what he could only hope and plead was a smile hidden behind the lip of her mug as she took a sip. It only took a few steps to join her in the booth one down from his usual. He slid into the opposite side, journal and coffee in his clutches as he came to settle. He noted the arch of one of her eyebrows as she placed her mug down and folded her hands on the tabletop. Her eyes trailed down and fixated on leather bound privacy that held Calum’s secrets. His grip tightened on the journal; a natural reflex to wondering gazes and probing interest. But his hold relaxed when her fingers tapped a slow rhythm against her own journal laid on the side of the table. He figured she understood; worlds of secrecy kept together by covers and unspoken words.

“Restless minds think alike?” Calum asked, voice thick and a little unsteady, it rode waves of uncertainty and a newfound nervousness. He wasn’t sure why flickering gazes and similar escapes made his body buzz and heart thrum to a beat he was unfamiliar with.

She nodded, hand quickly dragging her journal closer to her. Calum noted the confident shadow of a smirk begging at her lips as her gaze focused in on the pencil that laid across his journal.

“Unsure of yourself?”

Calum’s head quirked to the side; the question was bold but said with a soft spoken voice and punctuated with authentic curiosity. At first the question and it’s meaning surpassed Calum’s understanding. All until he noticed fidgeting fingers clicking at the top of a pen she had procured. Ink was certain and permanent; or so it was thought. Graphite could be erased and forgotten. Calum found the minute differences in their restless adventures amusing, the quip she had offered an invitation for conversation.

The waitress came out before Calum could properly collect his thoughts and form a worthy response. The waitress didn’t comment on the new seating arrangement though Calum’s skin prickled when quick and curious glances were exchanged. Mugs were filled and the warmth of coffee and cocoa steam filled the air; the winter bite warded off and replaced by heat that drove Calum to shrugging out of his jacket and she—on the opposite end of the booth—merely rolled up her sleeves and brushed her hair out of her face.

Calum abandoned the protective grip on his journal in favor of wrapping his hands around the mug, faded colors now vulnerable to eyes smart enough to glance down. Calum cleared his throat into the silence as the waitress retreated into the back once more. He took a quick sip of coffee; the burn a pleasant and welcome sensation that started slow sparks as Calum’s thoughts came together and a response sat on the tip of his tongue.

“Not unsure of myself. So sure that I know mistakes will be made; luckily nothing is permanent, not even ink.”

A smug smile begged at the corners of Calum’s mouth but he kept it at bay as she gave him a quizzical look.

“Not even ink?” She repeated as a question, pen tapping against the tabletop.

“Time will fade it. All those certain strokes will eventually disappear. Words will be lost,” he answered in a low murmur, surprise evident that the conversation began so deep.

“Luckily art lives forever,” she responded without missing a beat; her free hand opening the hardcover journal in a sweeping motion.

Calum realized they weren’t so alike after all. He was leather bound words kept secret with no notion of permanence. She was binder bound sketches open to the world and concepts such as forever. His eyes landed on looping sketches etched in ink. Mistakes did not live within the book; accidents created opportunities and livened cityscapes that decorated dotted pages.

“Time is just another concept. Forever can never be found or proven,” Calum retorted but there was no bite in his words, only a forlorn lilt that shone light on the possible fact that there was a chance Calum wanted to be proven wrong.

Her lips pursed in her moment of pause before she slowly reached across the laminate tabletop and lightly tapped the click top of her pen to a fading hourglass. One eyebrow arched and her inquisition made Calum squirm, feet shuffling under the table but wrist staying still. She bit her lip as she pulled away, Calum hyper aware of the carefulness in which she took to ensure she did not touch him. As her teeth pulled away from her lower lip, catching for only a moment, she shifted in her seat and sighed.

“I guess you’re right. Even certainties promised to us may not be forever,” she replied as Calum let his hand wrap around his wrist, covering a faded forever in an attempt to forget it. “After all, promises are made to be broken, forever can never be proved. Maybe soulmates are just as much a faulty concept as time and permanence.”

“How’d you know it was from my soulmate?” He asked quickly, voice hitching and heart racing. He omitted the fact she was no longer his; that her hourglass had disappeared in one snap moment in favor of something and someone more. He figured inquisitive eyes and deductive reasoning had put enough of the details together.

Her eyes swept over his bare arms and the answer clicked for Calum in time with her shrug and simple answer. “It’s the only one in color; no matter how faded it is. I figured it must have been for a special reason or person. Or both.”

Calum instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. Defensive position warding off the intrusive memories that flickered past his thoughts. For a moment he wished he hadn’t shrugged out of his jacket and that her eyes hadn’t landed on truths too painful to speak aloud. But when he looked back up at her and saw only empathy and sincerity he relaxed. It wasn’t easy to let go of the past but the tight grip that remained was starting to strain as well. Calum swallowed down his reservations and watched as she backtracked—intrigued at the story her eyes begged to be able to tell, that perhaps needed to be heard.

“But what do I know? I’m just a stranger. A stranger who’s never had and may never have a soulmate at that. I’m not exactly well versed.”

Her words had rough edges but her voice still held a softness that only hope could produce.

Calum felt unbridled honesty build, he bit his tongue, mind warring with the words that pleaded to be voiced. He let out a sharp breath and let his voice dip low. He’d hardly opened up to anyone since ink had faded, but sat with a perfect stranger with curious eyes and concepts that didn’t quite match his own left honesty tumbling from his lips.

“My soulmate moved on without me, found someone better and let me fade away completely,” he let out in one fell swoop of a breath. He kept his voice quiet, just loud enough for the two to hear, as if in an attempt to keep the words from escaping the small world they had created. Calum wasn’t sure he’d ever say the words outside of three in the morning; there was something secretive and safe about the dark sky, as if the moon and the stars were worthy companions to share secrets.

She leaned back in her seat, abandoning the half finished mug and sketchbook looming on the laminate tabletop in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. A near imitation to Calum’s defensive pose but done in an easier fashion, it was less to ward off the world and more to hold one together. He could sense that thoughts were tumbling through her mind. He wondered how much she was censoring; if there were words she dared to not speak aloud, if three am wasn’t as inviting for secrets. He wouldn’t blame her.

“I’ve never loved and lost,” she started and Calum nodded slowly, waiting for the usual spiel of that being a lesser of two evils. “Maybe I’m better never having known love at all.”

Calum sat stunned, silent through a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts. She shrugged, implying she was on the side of the unknown. Before Calum could get another word out she placed a few dollars on the table and gathered her things. And as gracefully as she had come into the diner—just a flurry flying past—she stood and made way towards the door. Calum stood abruptly too, legs narrowly avoiding a collision with the table as he slid out of the booth, one hand outstretched and a last call falling from his lips.

“Wait!”

She turned, eyes expectant and hip jutting out as she stalled her steps. She licked her lips and cocked her head to the side, waiting for him.

“Yes?”

Calum cleared his throat and took a step forward to marginally close the distance that felt craterous between them. He didn’t understand how he had felt so close to her; so willing to admit truths he had kept trapped and buried for so long. The hand he had reached out dropped and he tucked it into his pant’s pocket, unsure what else to do.

“I didn’t even get your name,” he realized out loud and was taken aback as he was caught in the crossfire of the glimmer in her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied around a smirk and began to close the distance between them.

Calum was dizzy, vision tunneling in as she reached a poised hand out, fingers brushing his jawline as she stood on the tops of her toes and let her lips briefly kiss his cheek. Calum said nothing, was too wrapped up in the tingle that shot up his spine and reverberated through his body as she pulled away. He didn’t notice at first; wrist so prone to a numbing burn that the spread of warmth was easily written off.

“See you around, hourglass,” she whispered before walking away; only the ding of the bell on the door alerting Calum back to reality.

Without words and breath trapped in his chest he backed up to his seat, dropped unceremoniously and finally chanced a look down. The warmth in his wrist was still prevalent and vision creeping with darkness at the edges. His fingers curled into his palm as he turned his wrist and watched the hourglass fade and in the frame of the timekeepers place an infinity symbol appeared. In a split second he was back on his feet, racing for the door she had exited mere moments before. He rushed back out, early morning light greeting him and the concept of time blurring how long they’d sat in the booth together. Dawn had broken in the time they’d discussed forever.

She was nowhere to be found. Footsteps made paths in the snow that had yet to be cleared off the sidewalks but they ventured into crossing steps. Calum’s heart sank, bone chilling wind biting at exposed skin; cooling the warmth of infinity. The snow had stopped falling when Calum was behind askew blinds and blinded by the concept of soulmates. His shoulders sagged as he walked back into the diner, the sound of the bell hollow in his already ringing ears. The waitress reappeared from the back, a sympathetic smile greeted him as he gathered his jacket and left his tip. Before he could get out the door the waitress spoke up.

“She’ll be back. She’s as regular as you. One in the morning is her usual.”

Calum turned back to the waitress with a thankful head nod then escaped out the door; the notion of early morning escapes meaning so much more now. He’d come back and he’d hope that his own theory of forever could be proven wrong. He’d pray that the infinity symbol still simmering on his skin had graced hers too.

***

Calum found himself back at the diner on a consistent schedule as snow stopped falling and started melting. Rain washed away the remnants of winter and brought bloom to spring flowers hidden in the dark hours of one in the morning. Calum had found no trace of her, she hadn’t showed up and he found himself waiting hours on end each morning. He had warred with himself, caught in a mess of contradictory thoughts that left him feeling numb. He didn’t know why he chased after something he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore. His favorite waitress retired and his restless mind only wandered further into depths of uncertainty. He questioned himself; his antics weighing heavily on his own shoulders. It tested his patience and ability to hold onto frayed belief. He reconciled that maybe he wanted to believe. And that wanting was the first step to doing. If he couldn’t believe in forever, maybe he could believe in her instead. His friends caught glimpses of the infinity symbol and wondered where the hourglass had gone; they worried his late night habits had become too much for him to shoulder. The exhaustion painted under his eyes was prominent, the heartache on his sleeve apparent. His best friend Ashton tried to rally him; convinced him that for just one night he could stay away.

Calum was dragged to a fair, spinning lights blending in with the stars; time passing in sync with the motion of the ferris wheel and carousel. There were glimmers of positivity shining in the night air. Yet Calum’s shoulders sagged in defeat as he leaned against a chain link fence separating fairgrounds from common land. Ashton stood beside him, his attitude and outlook much more positive than Calum’s had been over the course of winter to spring. It’d taken a lot of bargaining on Ashton’s behalf to get Calum away from his thoughts and self imposed diner schedule. Pleather booths and restless thoughts were much less adventures for the insomnia that continued to plague him and more a desperate plea—a cry to be heard bellowed out into dark hours, heard only by the moon and stars.

“You gotta stop thinking about it. About them; whoever they are. Give yourself one night of peace,” Ashton’s voice cut through the haze of thoughts swirling through Calum’s mind.

Calum hadn’t voiced the diner experience; he’d left gazes in curiosity and questions unanswered in favor of hastily changing the subject. His hand found way to his wrist as if on instinct, the new tattoo tingling as if a reassurance it was still there and she was out there somewhere. Calum could only wonder if perhaps an infinity symbol tingled on her wrist in that moment too, or if nothing stained her skin and she went on under the impression she might never have a soulmate. Calum realized something pertinent in that moment, let his shoulders roll against the fence so he could face Ashton. Shadows cut across his best friend’s face but Calum could still note the sincere worry that captured his expression.

Calum let his wrist go, dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and sighed. He knew Ashton’s words were valid and said only because he needed to hear them. Calum nodded as if trying to convince himself, the subtle motion going unnoticed by Ashton who gazed up at the night sky. A slight breeze rustled past the fairgrounds and stirred up the ability to let words out in a rush.

“I felt it. I didn’t know it at the moment. I was so used to the numbing burn of the hourglass fading that the warmth of the infinity symbol went past me. By the time I collected myself she was out the door and gone. She didn’t come back. What if she doesn’t have an infinity symbol too?”

Ashton’s eyes flickered down from the stars to look at Calum quizzically. Calum knew Ashton was piecing everything together. He may not have explained the early morning at the diner but the tattoo on his wrist said more than words ever could.

“Impossible. You have the tattoo to prove it.”

Calum mused over that for a moment and had a fleeting hope that consumed his heart. He wanted to believe Ashton’s words. The skepticism of forever and time merely being a concept drifting from Calum’s once steadfast opinion as the minutes ticked by each morning at the diner. The silent solace had become a place of introspection in the face of her absence. His eyes and fingers had traced loops that covered defined edges of a timekeeper.

“Maybe she’s my soulmate but I’m not hers.”

Ashton let out a bellow of a breath and shrugged.

“Then I guess that’s why she didn’t come back,” Ashton said plainly, the negative sentiment to the words jarring Calum.

It only took a split second for Calum to realize the play at reverse psychology; that Ashton was trying to turn the table to make Calum convince himself it was foolish to think he might not be her soulmate. But there was an ever present and ever so persistent crashing reality that sounded like breaking waves in his ears and felt like being pulled underwater—breath gone and chest tight—as he realized his old soulmate had left a tattoo on his skin and moved on before he could. What’s to say a new tattoo on him meant a first tattoo on her?

Calum shook himself; tried to take Ashton’s advice and not think about it. At least for one night. Ashton’s partner came bounding towards them to take Ashton away, words of the carousel filling the air. Ashton bid Calum a farewell with a nod and last words about enjoying the fair while it lasted before he took off with his own soulmate. Calum had never been envious of the matching pink rose tattoos that adorned their skin. Not when two hourglasses still graced his life. Now, with a symbol of eternity and no knowledge of another he felt the swooping pulls of envy tug at fragile heart strings. He decided it’d be best to separate himself, if his mind wouldn’t stray away then he’d beg his feet to move and take him somewhere soulmates and envy and doubt could hopefully melt away.

Calum wandered aimlessly for a while, passed patrons with smiles that emanated glee and shouldered a need for happiness onto Calum. All his spiteful words against the notion of soulmates and concept of forever seemed to follow him in menacing shadows that danced around in pairs. His eyes caught sight of the carousel, happiness ever rounding and only stopping for newcomers. He kept moving along the grounds, crunch of gravel under feet softening to grassy steps as he furthered himself along. Situated at the ends of the grounds was the Ferris wheel; it stood tall and endless. Dauntingly reminiscent of infinite loops that replaced frozen time.

Although Calum couldn’t place why there was a pull for him to head toward the Ferris wheel he listened to the silent feeling that led him forward. The line wasn’t long and he had just enough tickets in his pockets for one go around. He eyed the structure, the lights that spun in infinite circles were entrancing as the short line moved ahead. Soon enough he found himself sitting, an empty space beside him and the end of the line staring blankly back at him. The operator was set on waiting for a moment; an attempt to fill empty seats before the ride began. Calum had cast his gaze up, night sky peeking back at him between metal and illuminations.

“Mind if I join?” An all too familiar and nearly long lost voice broke Calum’s reverie. It was a voice he tried his best to keep in his mind, a voice that lingered when sleep finally came and dreams gave him back what was missing. It was a voice that had admitted defeat and given into Calum’s notion that forever was just a concept and that nothing was permanent; not even soulmates.

He turned suddenly, she was backlit by the lights of the fair and wearing a timid smile that sent flutters of nerves storming through Calum’s stomach. Uncertainty knocked around his ribs as he managed a nod and she slid into the seat next to him, his eyes immediately flitting down to her jacketed wrist. His fingers curled into his own sleeve, keeping it secret and secure as he swallowed down a lump in his throat. They sat closer than they had at the diner with a table between them. If Calum moved his leg just an inch they would collide and his heart might hammer out of his chest.

“You never showed up again,” Calum murmured without realizing the words would slip out.

As the ride began Calum wished he had bitten his tongue. But that want was washed away when confused eyes found his and an indecisive hand roamed with fingers gripping a jacket sleeve. Her teeth sank into her lower lip and her eyebrows furrowed before the confusion broke and an incredulous look of disbelief crossed her face.

“I did. Every three am. I peeked inside an empty diner; you were never there.”

The Ferris wheel began its climb up toward the stars in a slow grating fashion and Calum’s wrist tingled as he brought his hand to his face; fingers nimbly and absentmindedly rubbing at his jawline. A bubble of disbelief simmered below the surface and it took all of Calum to not let it burst in a wave of near hysterical laughter. They had been chasing each other, endlessly running on each other’s times to seek out what might be infinite. He had yet to see a looping symbol stained on her skin but the fact she had been searching for him left once fractured pieces of hope mending themselves. In one unthought out moment he dared to reach for her hand and she let him, he pulled her jacket sleeve up and let hope pull together to form certainty and matching soulmate symbols. Calum’s other hand rolled back his sleeve and he watched her eyes flicker down on instinct; seeking out an affirmation.

They no longer needed to run in looping wonder. Late nights turned early mornings would not bring rising hopes with crushing falls. And yet, a static hesitation cut through the air, her eyes were still filled with doubt and it only took a moment for Calum to realize why. All his sharp words at the diner, all his admissions to the failure of forever and doubt of soulmates crackled between them in a tension filled moment. Calum shook his head in minute bursts, eyes drifting down to seek out infinity symbols that would match each swoop if their hands came together. He thought that maybe lifelines on their palms might run together as well if given the chance to be held.

“Even if forever is just a concept, it’s one worth trying for,” Calum finally said, voice drifting back to the early morning at the diner, regret painting the words he spoke in that moment.

She pulled her hand to her chest, restless fingers fidgeting with a charm on a delicate necklace that hung just past her collarbones. Once more her jacket was open even though the night had grown cold long ago. Once more Calum marked the differences that sat between them. Had he been in her position he wasn’t sure he’d give a second chance to a near stranger no matter the matching tattoo that stained their skin for what might be forever. She dropped her hand as a smile curved onto her face, eyes alight like two stars that could never burn out. Yet she was subtle, slow in reaching for his still exposed wrist, soft fingertip tracing over the swooping line that never ends.

“I guess you’re right. Even if we can’t be certain, what’s the harm in trying?” She asked, passing the conversation back to Calum; offering him one last out or one last chance at something he assumed he may never have again.

Calum nodded, just a small up and down of his head as he leaned toward her, capturing her hand and stalling the roaming finger from tracing an absolute. They’d stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel, an opportune moment presenting itself as stars above shone down on them. He swallowed thickly, heart racing and mind screaming memories better left behind in favor of making new ones. He shut them out, quieted them with a chaste look in her eyes and then let his eyelids fall closed, marginally closing the distance between them.

“Is it too cliche a concept to kiss you at the top of the ferris wheel?” He asked, still inching toward her, still hoping with eyes closed and heart hammering to her rhythm.

“Yes, but I think you should anyway.”

She closed the gap and Calum felt his heart flutter at the light press of her lips against his. There were no fireworks to light up the sky that night, but colors bursting behind closed eyelids and hearts audibly thudding in wondrous beats against rib cages was a worthy substitute. Calum’s hand that spoke promises of infinite time came up to settle on her cheek and she pressed closer, slowly deepening the kiss. She tasted sweet, like hot cocoa at three in the morning. Ever the contrast to himself. Pulling away left them breathless but Calum didn’t mind the slight ache in his lungs and the freefall in his chest. They stayed in a quiet and winded state as they made the descent down the ride, flickering gazes capturing each other’s in greedy glances. Calum was nearly certain he could stay on the ride endlessly so long as she was there too. So long as fate stained in his skin and she sat by his side.

Stepping off the Ferris wheel felt like drifting atop clouds, each step was light and airy; a sheer curtain of disbelief still drifting in the breeze between them. Calum could still feel his heart pounding in all pulse points, could hear the thud that created a beautifully erratic rhythm reverberating through his ribcage. His body and mind were in overdrive, two souls connecting and finding that their broken pieces fit each other perfectly. Calum knew it would take time, that the perfect portrait of forever wouldn’t come without the dedication it takes to create a masterpiece. Though his hand yearned to reach for hers he kept it by his side as they silently walked on, a destination of nowhere in particular in mind. All Calum knew was he wanted to walk with her. And so he did. He let her lead and followed her every step, nearly certain he’d follow her as long as forever may last.

They rounded a corner, passing by rides still in motion and Calum slowly reached for her hand, curious to see if his theory of infinity symbols overlapping and tracing the same paths was correct. Her hand reached out for his hand at the same time and fingers interlaced to the soundtrack of racing heartbeats and certainty crashing together to prove a hopeful theory correct. Calum couldn’t hold back the grin that captured his face, nor did he want to. But it faltered when she came into his line of sight; a past painted by faded hourglasses had stumbled along a winding loop of forever. She was with someone new. Calum stopped short and so did his newfound soulmate. She turned to him with concern etched across beautiful features. He only took one quick glance at his past before setting his sights back on his future. Mind, body and soul eased as she stepped closer to him and a once burning wrist merely tingled with a reminder of a new journey. He supposed that maybe some journeys were shorter than others. And he realized he was okay with that.

Calum turned to her, flashes of their first night bringing questions to the surface.

“I didn’t even get your name,” he repeated verbatim as she threw her head back in laughter.

Her name rolled off her tongue like music to his ears and certainty to his heart. He hoped with all of his heart and soul that on this new journey with her he’d end up finding forever.

***

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Note

I know I ask alot but could you do a story about the reader getting kidnapped and being held hostage against the boys as black mail or something and the boys coming to save them.

Don't even worry about it! I don't want any of you to feel guilty about multiple asks, there are no limits! Ask as much as you want.

So this is a bit rough, but I will defend my portrayal of the Frog Brothers. Remember they were willing to stake Star and Laddie TWICE, even when they were helping them, just because they were half vampires. A girl and a little boy were still a threat. With that being said, I hope you still enjoy

Taken from Your Bed

Fem!Reader x Poly! Lost Boys

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, Gore, Offensive Language, Subjects of Torture

The idea of a polyamorous relationship was something you had never considered in 17 years of living. The whole idea sounded so complex, sharing someone you loved with multiple people, or multiple people sharing and loving you? It just sounded like a huge mess.

But when it came down to it, you could never choose between the beautiful vampires that had become absolutely smitten with you. What had started as a summertime time fling with the youngest and most perfect glam rocker, Paul, had evolved into a blossoming romance with his brothers. Late summer nights of riding through wind-warped beach dunes and cool morning naps were your new life. Your house had never really felt like a home even before you were coaxed into the arms of your blood sucking princes, and soon you just stopped coming back. Honestly they didn't even look for you. You'd be eighteen soon, you had graduated early from high school, there wasn't exactly much else to be done. It wasn't a surprise that your family was indifferent, you always questioned whether or not your parents had even wanted children. So, in the dark of the night they swooped in, liberating them of your belongings, and your presence. No note, no farewell, just an empty room with empty drawers.

Some days it would depress you. The subtle rejection hurt, but those days never lasted long. Any signs of tears and they'd be piling on you with a plethora of love. Paul would always remind you it didn't matter. You were with them now! Anyone else can burn in hell. The old cove where Star had slept was made up for you. They were more than happy to trash anything belonging to that treacherous girl. Battery powered fairy lights were hung across worn wooden bed posts, streams of colorful curtains kept you well shielded from any intruders, a mountain of stuffed toys from various trips to the boardwalk decorated the floor and your bed. They even managed to dig up a dusty old dresser for you clothes, and amongst your glamourous new cave dwelling, more often than not at least one of the boys would share the bed with you. On special occasions they'd all fall asleep with you in the middle between piles of plushies and pillows. Each one loved to spend time with you on and off the boardwalk.

Marko was up for absolutely anything as long as he could be with you. You'd read out chapters of The Outsiders while he burrowed in your lap, just entranced by your soothing voice. He'd beg you to sing to him, just to get a glimpse of what that entailed. You could sound like a dying seagull and he'd still call it a serenade. On lazy days he would let you practice painting his nails when you got bored, or brush his hair. That was his favorite. Paul would whine that he wants his hair brushed too, only for David to interject that it's his turn next. Yes, even David loves having your attention on him. When you aren't sitting pretty in his lap, he's laying lazily against you while you run your fingers through snowy blonde hair. If you get him relaxed enough he'll let out a low, growling hum. You started calling it a sleepy bear sound. Your time with David was often mellow, wrapped in his arms while he read. Eventually you'd grow curious and peek at the pages, asking him to read out loud. "Only for you kitten." He'd whisper.

Dwayne could braid your hair for hours, telling you old stories his granny would tell him passed on from centuries. Your favorite is the wendigo, the story of settlers driven to cannibalism after being trapped in a cruel winter, doomed to roam as superhuman beasts. It makes you wonder if what they had seen were ancient vampires? He'd chuckled, throwing in a casual "maybe" then ask if you wanted feathers woven in your hair as well. Uh, yes please! Dwayne always made sure you were taking care of yourself. If you hadn't eaten that day it was suddenly top priority. He'll remind you the importance of 7 cups of water a day, plenty of rest- until you point out he does none of that. He'd then argue he's undead, that doesn't count.

When Paul had his turn he'd be ecstatic. You'd both head bang to blasting music off the rock box, fix each other's hair in wild teased messes, sneak in a bit of heavy petting. Watching tv became a staple thanks to some rusty generator you "found" on a fisherman's boat after he… disappeared under mysterious circumstances. With a bowl of popcorn he'll pop in a scary movie, savoring those jumps that made you hide in his chest. It was too adorable! As soon as the other boys saw you two watching a film they'd all join and Paul would huff about his private time being commandeered.

Even with all of this, you had still decided to remain human much to their dismay. It wasn't that you didn't want to be a vampire. But after the Frog Brothers nearly wiped them out, the boys needed someone to be a daytime watch guard. You weren't supposed to fight anyone, just raise an alarm if there were trespassers. The thought of that made you pout. It's not like you couldn't handle yourself. Sure you weren't Bruce Li, but you had a few street brawl victories under your belt. You could certainly handle those Frog dorks.

Or so you had thought.

That night you were absolutely positive no one had seen you, you certainly weren't supposed to be seen. It was 4:35 am, almost the entire boardwalk was scattered by now with most of the families long gone home. The lights were being shut off, rides had been closed hours ago. Only a few party animal adults still lingered at the bars making last calls, lazily returning to their beds after a draining night. A dense fog had started to roll in, coating the moon and beach in a haze. The foreboding swoon promised possible rain the following day. Taking advantage of the ethereal beauty the night was, you had lured two absolutely wasted surfer guys that had been stumbling across the boardwalk now eagerly following you through the misty sands expecting a night of thrills once you reached the caves. Calmly humming, you dragged your toes over the damp sands while wisps of ocean waves tempted to reach your feet. At the last stretch you waded through the shallows, cautiously climbing up onto slick mossy rocks when you reached the mouth of the cave. "C'mon boys. My friends are just dying to meet you," you purred.

The high fives and penis innuendos were short lived when a flurry of dark figures swooped them into the air. You simply say atop the wet rocks with your knees delicately held against your chest. The screams and gurgled cries were lost to the ocean, and soon a familiar face poked from above looking into the cave.

"Peek-a-boo," Marko teased, hanging off the roof of the cave before swinging next to you. "Have I ever told you, you have awesome taste in meals for a human?"

"Is that you, or the boozey blood talking," you asked with a giggle, smearing the blood off his cheeks to steal a quick kiss.

"Bow don't go taking all of her, Marko." You looked up, watching David swoop in coated in bloody stains with Paul and Dwayne trailing behind.

"Sorry I could only bring you five people tonight guys, the fog coming in scared off whatever was left on the boardwalk. I barely caught those last two leaving the bar."

"Don't even kitty-cat, you already brought us way more than we expected," Paul protested, hanging on your shoulders from behind.

Dwayne nodded, still leaning up against the soggy cave. "Five is enough to keep us full, princess, you did plenty."

So with another successful night of feeding the boys were left ready to rest as 5 am rolled around. The sun tempted to rise before they had reached the cave, the boys slipping away to their dark hovel after giving you a mess of good night, or rather, good morning kisses. Although you often went to bed shortly after a night out, this morning you felt a surge of energy keeping you up. Thankfully it was a gloomy grey sky, causing minimal sunlight to burst through the slivers and cracks leaving the possibility still open that one of them would come to sleep beside you. Until then you chiseled away the boredom with a pair of headphones and a pile of comic books, flipping through the pages with eager anticipation for the next scene. Two hours barely dragged by, leaving you rolling over your bed in misery. Staring at the ceiling you debated sneaking into the cave. Maybe drag a blanket and a pillow, cuddle up on the ledge.. and then David would give you an earful for not only sleeping where you could fall but climbing through the tunnels. Oh well. It was only- 7:30 am. Perhaps you should spend the day out? But, something felt off.

You sat up, pulling off your headphones trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary. There was a disturbing still to the room, even the ocean sounded distant.

Then without warning, a firm hand clamped over your mouth from behind. You tried to wildly thrash and scream, but the sounds were heavily muffled under the thick layers of a towel. There seemed to be another who was running in front of you to grab at your wild legs still getting in every possible hit you could. They were whisper-yelling, demanding you keep your voice down. To hell with that! You managed to kick one in the face! The struggle dragged out for easily five minutes by this point. It always seemed to work faster in fiction, instead it dragged out for what felt like forever. The scent burned your lungs, it was getting harder to breathe, your resistance wavered as the drag of exhaustion continued to claw at your eyes. Your violent thrashing became a few heavy swings of your shoulders, until you could barely move anymore. It was impossible to fight the monstrous sleep they forced you into. Your body dropped into unconsciousness, finally able to breathe as you slipped away in the darkness.

Marko stirred in his sleep, swearing he could hear you screaming just outside. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he was able to relax. Quiet as the day is long. It must've been his imagination.

Flutters of light faded in and out of your peripheral vision. The more you saw, the more you heard. Two grumbling voices bickering back and forth.

"- I say we should just ice her now!"

"Not until we can smoke the rest of 'em out! A vampire rarely travels alone these days! The rest of them won't kill us as long as we have her!"

A verbal groan alerted their attention towards you as you shifted in place. It was still daytime, maybe mid afternoon? You honestly couldn't tell. When you tried to sit up you felt a sharp, worn resistance that kept your arms firmly in place. The rope rubbed your wrists raw. Your boots couldn't get any traction on the floor, it was covered in dust and old hay. Finally you were able to see those responsible for your capture.

"Oh you have got to be kidding," you announced, glaring at the two camo-clad brothers posing like suburban commandos. This was some old dusty barn, and you were kidnapped by the self proclaimed vampire hunters of Santa Carla, the Frog Brothers, Edgar and Allan. Typical.

"So, you guys have gone from murder to kidnapping. Well, I guess that's progress."

"The only murderer here is you, blood sucker," Edgar gruffly retorted, pointing a freshly sharpened stake in your face.

"Vampire? I'm in the sun you idiot!"

"We all know about you half bloods being in sunlight, you can't fool us." You didn't even realize the tall one spoke. His sneering upper lip wouldn't cease to display the disgust he held against you.

"You two must be sniffing too much old newsprint," you snorted. "There's no such thing as vampires."

That's when Edgar got close, tilting your chin up with the stake. "We saw you drawing those civilians to the cave for your little monster buddies."

His words hit you heavily. You were certain you had been careful, utterly positive. Instead not only had you been tailed, you had exposed the boys to a group of radical nutcases ready to kill. Now it was personal. Steeling your resolve, you took in a deep breath. "So what?"

Allan yanked you by your shirt, looking back into your eyes with his own hate. "Where are the others," he hissed.

With everything you had you tilted your head back and bashed your forehead against his. The force made your ears ring. They always did it in the movies, but no one ever said just how much it hurt. There was a dull sting where your skull had taken the brunt end of the attack while it traveled all the way to the back, a small trickle of what you could only assume was blood dripping off your forehead. Meanwhile the teen had fallen onto his back atop the filthy floor still grasping his forehead with a groan, Edgar jumping up over Allan ready to drive that stake into your heart.

"No!" Allan grabbed his brother by his shirt, just before it came inches to your heart. "We need her alive… for now."

With a smirk you sloshed around the spit in your mouth. As soon as Edgar turned to face you, you sent the congealed saliva in a forceful blast across. Direct hit. Edgar wiped away the disgusting phlegm off his eyes and in his rage quickly uncapped a bottle of holy water. Yes, a full water bottle of it, and doused you in it.

Great. Now you were tied up. bleeding, AND WET. You gave them a disinterested glare, cocking an eyebrow. "So, again, not a vampire. Believe me now?"

The two looked at each other and quickly huddled. They would mutter amongst themselves, occasionally peeking above to glare at you and your rolling eyes. Alright, so you were human. Even a head vampire couldn't be out in daylight, and half vampires couldn't handle holy water. But in a way that only made it worse! A living servant of the undead, a spy to lure helpless victims into their grasp, a caretaker of evil! A traitor to your own kind! That settled it then.

Groaning even grew tiresome by this point. You tried to wiggle out of your crude bonds, but you had to give them some semblance of credit, this was a damn good knot!

"Alright," Edgar boomed, catching you off guard. "You may be a human, but any ally of the undead is still an enemy, and we're not showing you an ounce of mercy!"

Allan nodded, and suddenly the atmosphere took a turn for gloomy. He watched with disinterest as you tried to wedge your heel into the ground to scoot away from them but it seemed to have no use. The struggle had you thrashing until you lost balance, flopping over on your side. He stomped over and wrenched you up by your shirt, this time keeping a cautious distance from your head.

"If they're keeping you alive.. they must think you have some sort of value." Alan finally knelt down to your level with your shirt still clutched in his left hand, brandishing a hunting knife with the right. The glint of it shined in your eyes in a cruel afternoon glow. In its looming reflective surface you could see your own e/c eyes as wide as saucers. They didn't see you as human. You were an ally of their greatest enemy, just as "evil" as the vampires they were so determined to hunt. Being human was no longer a bargaining chip to prevent injury. "Call to them."

Your teeth ground until they hurt, jaw locked in place. "Go to fucking hell," you hiss.

Before you could land another blow to Allan's smug face, Edgar had grabbed you from behind to keep you in place. The blade lightly caressed the flesh of your upper arm, catching the folds of your skin leaving tiny knicks. It tempted the surface to break beneath it's cruel will as Allan repeated his command through gritted teeth. "Call. Them."

Threats of torture weren't enough to break your silence. Fine, so be it. The tip dug into your arm, skin peeling away in a stream of ruby leaving a trail behind. You sucked in a sharp hiss, but bit on your tongue before you could yelp.There was no way you'd let them get to the boys. If you had to die so they could live, so be it. You wouldn't let out so much as a whimper. Do your worst.

Late afternoon dragged out, clinging tightly to every ticking second until the sun gave way under its own weary weight. The moment night lifted, crowing hoots echoed the cave. Freedom at last! Paul swung out of the cave brimming with excitement, Dwayne flying out behind him and crashing onto a couch leaving a cloud of dust for him to sneeze out. David was the last to waltz out, looking towards your corner. Odd. You were usually the first up to greet them. It'd become almost expected by this point. Sensing David's confusion along with his own, Marko gleefully jumped down from the rafters over debris to reach your bed. Someone was certainly sleeping in!

"Y/N? C'mon baby girl, wake up! Time for..," he paused, pulling away the curtains to find your bed a disheveled mess. Your cassette tape had been eaten to shreds by your portable player, magazines and books thrown on the floor, wads of sheets kicked off topped by discarded plushies. "Guys, c'mere!"

Dwayne quickly jumped up, expecting you to be snuggled in bed like a baby bird in its nest. Instead he stood beside Marko and looked past the curtains at the disarray your little corner had become.

"Since when does Y/N go out this late at night," Paul questioned from behind the two. Whoa, did a tornado come through here? He hopped over, pulling the trashed tape from your player.

"She doesn't," David said slowly, a flood of concern spilling into his head. Fully pushing the curtains away they all stepped in, looking for any sign of where you had gone.

Paul managed to wedge out the mess of black threading and plastic, getting a good look at what you had been listening to. Def Leppard's Hysteria Album. He had scrounged up some dough a few months ago for your birthday, you guys spent the whole weekend listening to it. For some reason you liked their gifts even more when they didn't just steal them. This was your favorite thing from him.. you'd never just leave it in the player to get trashed. "Dude what happened here?"

David lifted your blankets, noticing an unfamiliar scent intruding over your delicate aroma. Someone else had been here. Someone who shouldn't have been here.

Marko was able to catch whiff of a gnarly chemical scent, bitter. Crouching down, it was almost missed. Amongst your belongings was an unfamiliar towel stained with some sort of fluid. Peeling the soggy rag off the ground he took a whiff and immediately scrunched up his nose. "Hey, David, man. Smell this. Is it familiar?"

David caught the drenched towel tossed his way and barely had to smell it to recognize the stench. Throwing it down he began storming out, standing in the center of the room trying to listen for your heartbeat. None.

"What is it? Where is she," Paul demanded. This was getting to be too much.

"This isn't a coincidence boys," David hissed, looking their way. "Someone took Y/N. That rag was drenched in some sort of concentrated chemical."

The boys grew solemn, David's words setting into each of them. Paul was enraged, already his red eyes seeping through. How dare anyone take you from him! He'll rip them apart!

Marko's silence held a cruel storm ready to burst, biting on his thumb to stifle any unsteady rage. All he could picture were horrid images of you being hurt. Fear and guilt overwhelmed him. That wasn't a dream, he really had heard you earlier crying for help. The shame of it made him clench his eyes shut. A cacophony of blame riddled his heart knowing you had been taken just beneath their noses. He shouldn't have left you alone, he should have checked on you the moment he thought something was wrong!

Dwayne stood in silence, slamming his fist against the wall. Crumbles of concrete dusted his busted knuckles that quickly healed in place. You were supposed to be theirs, and he failed to protect you! "We have to find her," he choked out, pushing a mess of black hair from his furrowed brow. The not knowing was killing him. It was killing all of them. You weren't just missing, you were stolen while they slept only feet away.

Even David felt an internal rage unlike anything he'd felt before, not only at the perpetrators, but at himself. A beast among men, eternal life with a bounty of strength worth a thousand. What fucking good was it when while he slept you were torn from your bed? But another thought sat heavy in his heart. Their hearing was impeccable, damn near perfect. Why hadn't you called them? A scream, a cry would be enough! He began to march over to your bed again, but a new perspective had just granted him a moment of clarity. Hidden just under your blankets was a broken strip of red cloth one could only assume was a headband. Clasped tightly in vengeful fists, David's eyes turned bloodshot. He knew exactly who took you.

You weren't even sure how many hours had gone by at this point. The brother's grew restless at your resolve. While they regrouped in the corner to reevaluate their plan, you had found a nail jutting out from the floorboards to scrape your ankles on, slowly sawing away the worn rope that kept your legs together. Any movement stung. Cuts decorated up your exposed thighs and arms. Fresh blood caked over dried wounds, dirt became mud by this point from the excessive wounds and had smeared up your legs. They had conflicting feelings about throwing any swings your way. You were surprised to hear Edgar verbally voice his hesitations regarding unleashing a blow on a girl. Allan stepped in, but came to the same conclusion that he couldn't hit you. Well, after four good catches to your face. Utterly moronic, a knife was far more painful. Perhaps it gave them some sort of distance from you, punching was just too personal. Still, your busted lip was not appreciative of the last minute sentiment. Part of you wanted to mock them. If you're going to kidnap and torture someone go all the way at least, don't puss out half way through. But, you had other plans. You rapidly ran the rope across the nail while they bickered back and forth, nearly there.. and then you heard a massive thud land on the roof.

No. No not yet. You quickly dragged your feet as fast as you could while the brothers flew into a panic. But now your feet were free. Using your knees you hoisted yourself up to the nail, rapidly dragging your arms across to saw the straw away. Edgar and Allan began checking each other for weapons, and right as the rammed into the door again your wrists came free. Right!

You dashed for the brothers, snatching the bottles of water and dumping out every drop into the ground. They ran to grab you as you tried to bolt out the door, almost able to see Marko in the air above when suddenly someone had grabbed a fistful of your hair. That was enough to make you scream. A chunk was ripped from your scalp, the rest still tightly grasped in Edgar's fist.

David watched you bolt out the rickety old barn, ready to fly down to you until they caught you in their grasp. Paul didn't even hesitate once they snatched you back, that is until he caught sight of a shimmering glare wedged tightly against your throat.

"Get back," Edgar demanded, twisting your arm. The pain rang up through your back to the point you feared your shoulder was being pulled out of place. Your breathing began to become shallow when something cold slid on your throat, Edgar's free hand pressing the blade to your throat so tightly a thin line formed beneath it.

"You're fucking dead, you little shit," Marko hissed, jumping off the tin roof.

"M-Marko," you whimpered. You didn't dare move an inch.

"Back off death breath! Or your little pet becomes your next meal!"

With that warning Edgar tilted the blade just beneath your chin.

You tried to pull your head back to keep your distance from the foreboding piece, looking at Marko with fear.

"I'm sorry…"

Marko took a step back, unsure of how to approach this. Any moves he made could result in you being taken. He could see the barrage of wounds coating your skin. It made his shoulders shake, just aching to rip this punk's head off.

From inside the barn Dwayne hovered over the rafters, shattering the bulb that provided the only light in the room. Left in the dark, Allan grasped at the wooden stake in his hand. He could hear Dwayne rapidly flying through the barn, but he could never move fast enough to see him. "Come out you coward!"

Allan's scream alerted Edgar to his brother, turning his head just soon enough to watch him bled dry. Dwayne pried his fangs from the limp teen with a disgusted snarl in the dark, chucking the corpse at his brother's feet.

"NOOOOO!"

You took the chaos as an opportunity to escape, knocking his hand off of you and trying to bolt forward. Paul flew to snatch you, his hands tightly wrapped around yours when he heard the most hideous sound. Flesh tearing, bones cracking under the pressure with squelches of blood pittering down into the ground. His fingers trembled watching your delicate face drop in horror.

Edgar stood behind, only seeing the red of his rage as he drive the knife further into the small of your back. "Die you witch bitch!"

Those were his last words as David jutted his hand through Edgar's chest. You screamed in horror watching Edgar barely have a reaction to his own heart being held outside his body, collapsing into a hollow husk of flesh. What air you had was rapidly escaping your lungs, falling in a cascade into Paul's arms.

"No, no no! Y/N!" He dropped to his knees, holding you tightly against him. David knelt down beside you two, Marko running and skidding on his knees beside you while Dwayne leaned over you. They were all holding back tears, David's hand brushing over the hilt of the knife still jutting out.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccups between tears, fingers tangled in Paul's jacket. "I co-couldn't… let them g-get you."

Marko shushed you, running his fingers through your hair. "Its okay baby girl, we know. Just hang on, okay?"

David wedged you into a sitting position onto his knees, looking at Paul. "As soon as I pull," he began, pushing your hair away from your neck ", you bite."

The suggestion sent chills through you. "B-but.."

"Y/N, kitten, it's right through your lumbar artery," David whispered softly, lightly tapping the hilt with his gloved hand sending a dull pain through your entire back. "This has gotta come out. But when I pull it out, you could bleed to death."

"Please don't leave us, baby girl." Marko held your hand, looking at you in fear. He wasn't ready to lose you. None of them were. If you had to turn to stay with them, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

With a slow breath in, you hugged yourself against David and closed your eyes. Paul moved beside your neck as instructed, but Dwayne and Marko each took one of your wrists in their grasp. They all wanted to turn you. "O..okay.. d-do it.."

David kissed your cheek softly, clutching his hand around the knife. It hardly put up any resistance against his vampiric strength. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but cry out. Tears flooded your face, nails dragging against David's jacket. When they could see the tip of the blade surface, Paul dove his fangs into your shoulder. David bit into the left side of your neck, while Marko and Dwayne tore into your wrists. What should take hours only took moments.

Marko held onto you, closing his eyes tightly trying to muscle through your agonized cries before pulling his mouth off. Tears spilled from Paul's eyes, tearing away before he lost control. The taste of your bittersweet blood lingered on his tongue. Dwayne and David held you in place, and finally you had felt your heart stall, then stop.

You didn't need to catch your breath anymore, there was no longer any breath left to catch. "I'm sorry… I'm so so sorry,:" you whimpered, buried against David's chest. "Th-they had holy water, they were going to ambush you… I-I couldn't risk it.."

"No more, kitten," David shushed, holding your head on his chest.

"Don't worry about it princess." Dwayne ran his hands over your hair, kissing the top of your head. "This won't happen again."

"We are never letting you out of our sight again," Marko cooed, nuzzling your hand against his face. Paul gently kissed your available cheek, looking up at the black sky shifting to grey. "Guys, the sun's comin' up."

"So it is." David lifted you bridal style into his arms, kissing you softly. "Let's get you home babygirl. Tonight we'll take you out for your first hunt, but for now, you need your rest."

A burst up wind carried you off into the air, holding on tightly to David as he flew you over the ocean, above the clouds, back to the safety of the hotel. Your home. Forever.

136 notes · View notes

seokoloqy · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1: Who Will Rule?

➳ PAIRING: hoseok x reader x namjoon

➳ GENRE: royal!au, interactive

➳ WORD COUNT: 6.1k

➳ WARNINGS: some blood, nothing much

➳ SUMMARY: The king’s bastard son, Hoseok versus Namjoon, the adopted crown prince. Their kingdom is in shambles struggling to figure out who deserves to become their next king. You end up stuck in the middle of their dilemma, discovering new sides to both men as they learn to accept the truth of their birthrights.

➳ A/N: HEADS UP FRIENDS!!! this is an interactive fic!!! This means at the end of each chapter will be a choice and your choices will lead the story and shape your relationship w each character! So I hope you’ll enjoy this wild ride w me

—

“Something wrong?” Yoongi peers into the moving carriage as he walks alongside it, ensuring it’s safe arrival to your destination. He wears a face of worry, hoping you’re not too stressed about the visit to your neighboring kingdom.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning your head against the cushioned seat. Your chest puffs out as you breathe in the chilly air, fingers absentmindedly twirling around each other in circles. “I’m just nervous that’s all.”

The carriage dips slightly when Yoongi stops walking alongside it and he hops onto the side step to lean in further. He rests his arms on the open window, taking a closer look at your expression. “Were you gossiping with your ladies maid again?”

You purse your lips, turning away from Yoongi with a pout and confess, “Yes.”

Often when you were getting dressed in the morning your ladies maid would do your hair and spill all the latest gossip spreading around the castle. The news of your neighboring kingdoms trouble seems to be the latest edition of gossip spreading throughout all the kingdoms.

“The bastard son or the adopted crown prince,” your ladies maid said in a foreboding, storytelling voice as she did your hair.

She spoke of the neighboring kingdom and its current king. With their king unexpectedly falling ill and no good news of his deteriorating condition, they need a king soon, even if the young crown prince, Namjoon, is still learning the ways to properly run a kingdom.

But, your ladies maid exclaimed, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear, in a fever-induced state the king revealed his longest, darkest kept secret—the truth of his secret affair with a maid and the crown prince's true identity.

The king had revealed to the entire court that Namjoon was not his biological son, automatically making Namjoon ineligible to rule the kingdom because he did not share the king’s blood. On top of that, the king also admitted he mistakenly had an affair with a maid who became pregnant and gave birth to a son, his first son, Hoseok. Apparently, the king didn’t divulge any more information than that before passing out.

Now you’re on your way to this broken kingdom to marry the crown prince…whoever he’ll be. This marriage alliance is the one thing that will unite your two kingdoms and now it’s on the brink of collapsing if they can’t come up with a true heir soon.

Although the coronation and wedding have been put on hold as they sort things out, their king gets worse and worse every day. They need to choose a new ruler now and they have no idea who it will be.

With the revelation of new blood and secret adoptions, your marriage alliance and the next ruler are uncertain. If the crown prince has been adopted there’s not a drop of royal blood that flows through his veins which makes him ineligible to rule and if they chose a Hoseok, who has never been educated on the details of running an entire kingdom, it spells doom for its people.

You’ve met the crown prince a few times as a child. Namjoon was groomed for this role since birth, and you could see the dedication he had for the position, along with admiration for his father.

What did it matter if he wasn’t blood? Becoming king is all he has ever known. His position is being threatened by the oldest law, only the king’s bloodline will rule, and you find it unfair for him.

As for Hoseok, your maid didn’t tell you much because no one really knew who he was before the news. They only knew he was raised by his mother and worked at the castle as a servant his whole life with no idea of who his father was.

How can they be choosing between Namjoon, someone who has the knowledge of running a kingdom, versus Hoseok, born out of wedlock and raised in a kitchen by the maid?

“Maybe if the king wasn’t such a whore they wouldn’t be in this mess,” Yoongi admits candidly. “Who knows how many more illegitimate children he has running around?”

“Yoongi!” You gasp, nearly shoving him off your carriage. “Don’t say that!”

Hitting his shoulder doesn’t stop him from continuing.

“Maybe if their king owned up to his mistakes the kingdom wouldn’t be in such shambles right now. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying for his sins,” Yoongi goes on, ranting about how foolish the king had been to let this secret continue till he was on his deathbed.

Your very opinionated and outspoken knight shakes his head in disappointment.

“I hate to send you off knowing how unstable things are there. Your father is too stubborn and irrational sometimes,” Yoongi grumbles his thoughts aloud.

Normally, Yoongi’s criticism of your father would never be uttered anywhere near him, but your bond with Yoongi gives him the confidence that you won’t go spilling his true feelings to your father.

“I mean, an arranged marriage with the crown prince when they don’t even know who it’ll be yet? He must be insane to think proposing marriage right now is the best timing! What if they chose the bastard son? Then you’ll be stuck with him for the rest of your life. Who knows how many daddy issues he has?”

Sometimes you think Yoongi acts more like a father figure towards you than your own father. He obviously cares deeply for you.

His tangent goes on for another minute as he explains all the possible negative outcomes that could happen if you were to marry the bastard son.

“Maybe he’s not that bad,” you shrug. Neither of you has met Hoseok yet. It wouldn’t be smart to make judgments and create biases.

Yoongi gives you a tired look, and asks plainly, “would you rather marry charming prince or the frog?”

“We haven’t met him yet. Don’t be so harsh on just him.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “don’t get me started on Namjoon. I bet he has issues too.”

You’re beginning to feel another one of his long-winded rants coming along. You settle back into your cushioned seat and prepare to relax for your long journey as Yoongi begins his detailed explanation on why both of these men would never be good enough for his princess. It’s so detailed you feel like he had this speech prepared beforehand.

—

You arrive at the kingdom at dawn just as the yellow sun peeks over the horizon, casting everything in its golden hue. The warm smile, as dazzling as the rising sun, you’re greeted with when you ascend the long steps up to the entrance comes as a surprise.

Namjoon stands at the entrance, dressed in his formal attire, dark hair pushed out of his forehead to reveal his stunning beauty. You almost trip up the steps, distracted by his dimpled smile.

Beside Namjoon is a knight, dressed similarly to Yoongi, but in their kingdoms fiery red colors. He stands attentively by Namjoon’s side, watching as you and Yoongi approach.

“It’s good to see you again.” Namjoon’s forced greeting comes out strained and far away.

It’s those few words that make you realize he’s only smiling because he has to. He’s smiling because he can’t show his true feelings in front of you. It’s not hard to understand why especially knowing all that’s happened.

Namjoon even forgets his kingdom’s customary chaste kiss on the cheek because of how distracted he is. So when you lean towards him and he makes no indication to react, you awkwardly pull back to your place besides Yoongi.

“You too,” you reply, offering a close-lipped smile. His mind is elsewhere, and you don’t blame him for his robotic actions. “How is your father doing?”

Your question slips out without much thought, bringing him back to reality. You only realize your error once a glaze forms in his eyes.

Does he still call the king his father after finding out the truth or does it hurt too much to think about the years of lies?

“I apologize,” you bow your head, ears burning from embarrassment, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright. But my father is doing fine for now. His condition hasn’t gotten better, but it isn’t deteriorating.”

Nodding, you feel the awkwardness begin to settle like thick smoke.

Yoongi interjects with his blunt statement, “the other one isn’t here. Isn’t he a prince now too? It’s rude of him to not come to greet you. No wonder they call him a bastard.”

“My apologies.” Namjoon bows his head. “I would’ve liked to introduce you to Hoseok, but he isn’t feeling very well.”

You’re almost glad Namjoon interrupted Yoongi so he wouldn’t go off on another rant. But it’s regretful to hear about Hoseok. You’re wondering when you’ll get the opportunity to meet him. Hopefully, he isn’t as dreadful as Yoongi’s vivid imagination paints him out to be.

Namjoon rises from his bow and his eyes catch something behind you. The sound of hooves and wheels squeaking tell you another carriage has arrived. You turn to see the door being opened and two men step out.

“The advisors are here, your highness,” Namjoon’s guard says. “It’s time to go.”

Namjoon lets out a helpless sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, ”thank you, Jungkook. Please, escort the princess to her room.”

Namjoon bids you a quick farewell, promising to speak with you again soon and then descends the stairs to greet the two officials.

As Namjoon ordered, Jungkook leads you into the lavishly decorated castle with Yoongi following in flank. The castle’s grand exterior could never compare to the wonders on the inside.

The floor is lined with white marble and gold accents covering the entire wall. Statues of gods and goddess carrying candelabras stand in the hall facing the windows and the rising sun.

This castle is much more extravagant than the one you grew up in, even Yoongi eyes the decor in absolute amazement.

Once you arrive at your designated room deep in the castle, so deep you wonder how you’ll ever find your way back to the entrance, Jungkook takes his leave with a silent bow and gracious smile before you can even thank him.

“If you end up despising your husband it won’t be hard to avoid him in a palace as big as this,” Yoongi states, once Jungkook is out of hearing. He opens the door for you and the inside is just as well-decorated as the rest of the castle.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The more and more Yoongi speaks, you find yourself growing anxious over this whole situation. What will you do when they finally chose their king? What if you can never learn to love your husband as Yoongi imagines? Doomed to live a miserable life, avoiding your husband and wishing you could flee.

You step into the room with drooping shoulders and grim face, hidden from Yoongi. Even if he can’t see you, he can sense your distress.

“I just…” he sighs heavily, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Yoongi makes sure you’re looking him in the eyes before continuing. “Don’t want you to be let down or hurt in the end. That’s all.”

You know how much he cares and he doesn’t say this to harm you, he’s just worried.

You reach out to pull him into a hug, clinging to him as you relieve all of your worries in his arms.

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

—

It’s already past noon by the time you fully settle in. Unfortunately, you knew your time with Yoongi had to come to an end before dusk approached. He had other matters to attend to back in your own kingdom, but he entrusted your care to the knights here, threatening to return with a vengeance if you are ever harmed under their watch.

It was a tearful farewell and watching Yoongi depart on his horse, only made you want to return to your room to wallow. Now you have no one. No one to confide in or feel at home with. But you aren’t going to let yourself get caught up in these feelings and isolate yourself.

With Namjoon busy all day in his meetings and still no sign of this mysterious first son, Hoseok, you spend your time alone wandering the castle and exploring the gardens. All the hedges have been perfectly trimmed, the grass cut and immaculate, not a weed in sight.

Just over the hedges, you spy a group of knights sparring, armor gleaming under the sun each time they move to strike each other with their swords, clashing metal against metal. They go back and forth with one another like an intricate dance.

Your legs unconsciously carry you towards the action.

The knights who aren’t sparing, stand idly to the side of their made-up battleground, some bow to you as you approach. They don’t seem to mind your intrusion, much more interested in the two in the middle who continue to clash swords.

“Good morning, your highness,” one of the knights greet. “How are you doing? I hope our prince, Namjoon, isn’t too busy, but you’ll have to forgive him. With the King’s health declining rapidly there are lots of things to be done.”

You understand that Namjoon is busy with the revelation of his adoption and grieving over his father’s condition. It can’t be helped. However, you wish he would invite you to come along on his meetings so you can have time together. Even if you won’t be speaking much to one another, at least you’d be in his presence and learn more about him as a potential leader. You might be marrying him soon, yet you know nothing about each other.

During your time wandering you spoke to his staff and heard them go on about how much of a gentleman and wonderful person he is, and you don’t doubt them, but you’d like to experience that kindness yourself. It might be foolish to dream, but you’d like to actually be in love with the man you might marry.

“I’ve been good, thank you. I know Namjoon has been busy but I’ve been busy exploring the castle.”

“Well, you stumbled out into the training yard just in time! Sparring is always so much fun to watch.” The knight smiles, his eyes turning into crescents.

“Enough, enough! Are you trying to kill him, Hoseok?”

You’re brought back to the knights sparing, between your conversation with the knight and your thoughts, one of the knights managed to get his opponent on the ground, sword to his throat and cutting just enough for blood to pool.

You didn’t notice it before, being so absorbed in your conversation with the knight, but the man on the ground is Jungkook, the guard who you met earlier.

And they called the other one Hoseok. Could the man sparing be the king’s son? He doesn’t look sick like Namjoon claimed he was.

Jungkook grimaces, trying to shift away, but the sword follows his throat.

“Trying to kill him?” Hoseok, standing above him, muses, pulling the sword away and driving it into the grass close to Jungkook’s head. “This was just for fun.”

Jungkook lies still for a moment, stunned by the proximity of the blade to his face. Even you had frozen for a second when Hoseok drove the blade in the dirt, afraid he would purposefully strike Jungkook.

Glistening with a sheen of sweat as he turns his head to face the others gathered around, Hoseok spreads his arms as if presenting himself for a challenge.

“Who’s next? I can do this all day,” he boasts jokingly.

“I think they need you back to work in the kitchen, Hoseok,” the knight you were speaking to says, jerking his head towards the castle.

Back to work in the kitchen? If this is the Hoseok everyone is gossiping about, why is he not like Namjoon and swamped with royal duties? He’s eligible to become king, but he’s here bantering with knights and sparring.

“Well, this was fun, boys.”

Hoseok moves off Jungkook, offering a friendly hand to pull him up. Jungkook accepts Hoseok’s hand and stands, dusting off the dirt staining his pants after being roughly forced to the ground.

“Jungkook, go get cleaned,” their captain commands, then he gestures toward the knight you were talking to. “Jimin, you’re next.”

“It was fun, princess,” Jimin says, hand moving to unsheathe the sword at his hip. “If you ever need an escort around the castle, feel free to find me. I’m usually out here training or in the kitchen. They make the best cookies there.”

You smile at the generous offer, “thank you, Jimin. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer soon!”

No one else is going to show you around. Namjoon surely isn’t with his busy schedule. You’d be thrilled to become friends with Jimin.

He waves you goodbye and meets his next sparring partner on the field. You watch as they ready themselves before their captain yells for them to begin. Swords once against clash.

Hoseok approaches you and you’re just about to wave hello, but he passes by without a second glance. Your hand awkwardly moves to fiddle with the pearls around your neck as you turn to watch him stride toward the castle. He pulls off his armor and leaves it to the side near the bushes and then enters through the service entrance.

Maybe he just didn’t see you. Though in a crowd of knights all wearing their armor and you in a simple pink dress, it would be hard not to notice. You’d like to introduce yourself anyway. You finally want to meet the man everyone has been whispering about. You want to prove Yoongi’s theory about him wrong.

You lift your skirts and begin heading toward the same door Hoseok just went through.

“Uh, excuse me, princess!”

You stop walking when you hear someone call out to you, the galloping of horse’s feet also grows close. When you spot the man riding on a brown horse he’s already dismounted and walking toward you, reigns in hand. He isn’t dressed up in any formal attire and smells faintly of the stables.

He bows, taking the brown cap off his head, fluffy dark hair spilling out, and clutching the hat to his chest. His hair is in disarray as he straightens himself, putting the cap back on neatly to cover it.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I overheard that the crown prince is looking for you in his office. I just thought I’d let you know even though it’s not my official job,” he shyly chuckles, “my name is Taehyung. I’m the stable boy.”

The horse by his side neighs as if also saying hello.

“Ah,” Taehyung adds, patting the horse’s back. “and this is Yeontan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you grin, reaching out to stroke Yeontan’s snout. “I should go see Namjoon then.”

Introducing yourself to Hoseok will just have to wait. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting. You wave goodbye to Taehyung and head towards the other castle entrance.

—

Once you arrive at Namjoon’s office, after getting lost a few times and asking a maid for directions, you knock on the door twice. Inside you hear his tired, gravelly voice telling you to come in.

As you enter, you see the office is cluttered with books and papers. Every surface is filled with official documents or texts you can hardly find a place to put your foot without stepping on anything.

The mess almost reflects the chaos that must be going through his head. His whole future of becoming king has fallen apart right before his eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it. Also, dealing with his father’s illness, and coming to terms with the truth of being adopted must have him in a lot of stress. Work seems to be his only distraction away from it all.

The fountain pen in Namjoon’s hand spins between his fingers as his eyes concentrate on the papers laid out on his desk. He only glances at you briefly, offering you a tired smile, before going back to staring at the work in front of him.

“I was thinking after my meeting tomorrow we could go into the town and I could show you around personally.”

“Oh, you don’t have to if you’re too busy!”

You don’t want him to feel obligated to spend time with you. He has enough to do already. You’d just feel guilty for taking him away from any important business he has to deal with.

“You’re a guest in my kingdom and who knows, if fate allows it, we might be married. I’d like to get to know you better.”

He looks into your eyes causing your pulse to begin racing. He’s just so charming you can’t help but get flustered.

“Mmh,” you blush, averting your gaze to the floor. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. I look forward to spending time with you tomorrow. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”

That seems to be the end of the conversation and your cue to exit as he picks his pen back up and begins marking his papers again.

You shift your feet, averting your gaze to the floor to ceiling window which has a perfect view of the setting sun coating the garden in a wash of orange, hoping to say more. Maybe you shouldn’t bother Namjoon, but you can’t help but want to talk to him.

“Um, may I ask what you have planned for tomorrow?”

Namjoon hums in thought, looking back up at you and pressing the tip of his pen against his plush lips, “I think a stroll through town and a picnic would be very romantic.”

Your cheeks burn at the word romantic, a suppressed smile playing on your lips. You nod without a word, afraid if you speak your voice will give away how thrilled you are.

“Thank you. Goodbye,” you squeak, quickly curtsying and turning on your heels to exit.

You scurry out of Namjoon’s office. So giddy with excitement for what’s to come tomorrow you don’t notice the figure turning the corner carrying a tray. You two roughly collide with one another. Your shoulder knocks the silver platter out of his hands. The contents of the tray fall over and smash against the floor. Piping hot tea and shards of broken glass scattered across the immaculate marble.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, crouching down to pick up the large pieces of a shattered porcelain teacup.

The person you ran into tsks, crouching beside you to help clean up. “Damn it, watch where you’re going next time.”

“I’m sor-” You look up and realize you’ve run into Hoseok, the king’s biological son, the man you saw sparring on the field. His dark hair is pushed out of his face, allowing you to see his downturned brows, clear frustration painting his features.

You’re just about to finally introduce yourself when you feel a sharp pain prick your finger. You yelp and drop the glass back onto the floor when you realize you’ve just cut yourself with it.

“You’re really clumsy,” Hoseok sighs, grabbing your injured hand and inspecting the cut. Your blood seeps from your finger and drips onto the floor. You wince when he envelopes your hand in his. “It’s not that bad. Come on let’s bandage it up.”

Hoseok holds your hand in his and drags you down the hall, abandoning the shards of glass for someone else to deal with.

“I’m really sorry for bumping into you.”

“Stop apologizing to me.”

“S-” You stop yourself from apologizing again by clamping your mouth shut.

You trail behind him, staring at his back. He’s dressed in black like most of the servants, not the finely tailored suits Namjoon dresses in.

You thought Hoseok would be similar to Namjoon, stressed about discovering the truth and his new title as the king’s illegitimate son, but he’s out training with the knights and delivering tea instead. He’s still remaining in his role as the maid’s son.

“You’re Hoseok, right? T-The king’s son?”

Hoseok tenses, the grip on your hand tightening. You wince from the pressure it puts on your cut. Hearing the soft cry, his hand relaxes again.

“So what?” He answers dismissively, pulling open a narrow service door.

You glance to the floor, thinking of what to say. It’s clear he doesn’t like being addressed as the king’s son. “Um, I just wanted to introduce myself to you after I saw you sparring earlier. You were really impressive.”

“Yeah, I saw you out there.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t notice me when you walked by.” He must've been busy and wanted to get back to the kitchen quickly, you think to yourself. It’s reasonable that he couldn’t stop to say hello if that was the case.

“I just didn’t care.”

“Oh…” You murmur, defeated.

You didn’t think Hoseok would be so blunt, a little rude too. You don’t understand why he already seems to dislike you when you’ve only just met. What if Yoongi was right?

Your pace behind him lags and he takes notice, turning around to see your frown.

“Don’t look so glum,” Hoseok says, using his free hand to pinch your cheeks up in an attempt to make you smile. “They’ll think I made you sad.”

But he did make you sad. However, you wouldn’t want the staff to see you upset. It wouldn’t make such a good first impression.

“I’ll try not to,” you nod, attempting to put a smile on your face.

His gaze lingers on your fake smile, frowning slightly, but shakes his head free of his thoughts and pulls open the doors to the hectic kitchen.

Inside the staff is in full swing preparing dinner for tonight. The chefs and sou chefs work in tandem, calling out to one another, but that abruptly stops when the doors shut behind you and everyone’s attention is on you—mainly Hoseok.

Their eyes linger on him, unsure and hesitant as they wonder what to do or say. Do they bow to their new prince or casually say hello to the man they’ve worked with for years as if he were anyone else?

Tension builds as Hoseok drags you towards the back of the kitchen and they idly stand by. Hoseok ignores them, staring straight ahead without a care, similar to the way he ignored you outside. He must be used to the states by now.

“Princess! You’re here!” The familiar voice of Jimin calls to you, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You see him waving at you while leaning against a countertop covered in flour with cookie dough resting on trays. He has a stack of freshly baked ones in his hand and happily continues to munch on them.

Life slowly returns to the kitchen in hushed whispers when Hoseok lets your hand go to search for the bandages and you approach Jimin with your hand behind your back. You don’t want him to worry if he sees your cut.

“You found your way here and with Hoseok too. I’m surprised you've managed to warm up to him already.”

“Warm up? I don’t think he likes me very much,” you sigh, glancing back at Hoseok who’s crouched down and rummaging through a cabinet.

Jimin takes another bite out of his cookie, offering you some from the stack in his hand. You excitedly accept one and take a bite, savoring the chewiness and sweet taste of the chocolate.

“Oh, he’s always that way with royals. He’ll come around once he gets to know you. But he’s been even more on edge ever since the king's confession. Truthfully, we’re all a little confused about what’s happening or what to do.” Jimin looks toward Hoseok, an empathetic look on his face. “Hoseok says he’s fine and he doesn’t want the truth to change anything.”

You both look at Hoseok still looking through the cabinet, an annoyed look on his face as he struggles to find what he’s looking for. A staff member comes to his aid, but he shoos them off. He continues to rummage until he reaches his arm far back to grab the box.

Hoseok begins walking towards you both while searching the contents for what he needs.

It’s obvious that many of the staff are having difficulties adjusting to Hoseok’s new title from the silence that drowned the room when he walked in. It must be hard to continue his life normally, you can understand why he seems to be frustrated.

“Is that why he’s still serving tea?”

Jimin nods, solemnly. “Since he’s a royal now, we do as he says and if he wants to continue serving tea or sparring with us we let him.”

“Does that also mean you let me win sparring matches on purpose?” Hoseok muses, moving beside you, carrying the bandages for your cut.

“You won sparring matches before everyone knew you were a prince,” Jimin mutters sourly, turning his head away with a pout.

Hoseok’s smile turns from playful to a cold empty expression at the mention of prince, but says nothing, letting the commotion of the kitchen drown out the conversation. He turns to you, taking your hand without asking and begins cleaning up your wound with a wet cloth.

“Are you alright, princess?!” Jimin gasps when he sees your injured hand, brows knitted together with worry. “How did that happen?”

You smile to reassure him. “Just a little accident. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It’s my job as a knight to worry about your wellbeing, princess,” Jimin says, continuing to wear a face of concern, watching Hoseok work.

Jimin reminds you of Yoongi. Always worrying about the smallest things. It’s comforting to have someone familiar around and you’re glad you met Jimin today.

Hoseok’s hand gently wipes around the cut, cleaning off any blood left. As curt as he is speaking to you, he’s gentle with your injury.

You watch his tense expression as he works. You’re wondering what he’s thinking. After your short talk with Jimin, you wonder how he really feels about his true birthright? Is he really fine like he’d like to convince everyone?

You’d certainly feel betrayed by the king for keeping a secret of such magnitude. How does he look Namjoon in the eye knowing everything Namjoon has should’ve been his?

Someone bursts through the doors right then, calling out, “Incoming, Hoseok! It’s the advisors again!”

You recognize the voice as Taehyung, but before you can check to see if you’re right, Hoseok grabs your wrist.

“You’re gonna have to run, princess.”

“Huh?”

Hoseok gathers all your first aid in one hand and with the other wrapped tightly around your wrist drags you out of the kitchen through the service hall just as two officials, the pair from this morning, come through the other door from the dining room.

One of them desperately pleads, “your highness, please stop avoiding this! Someone catch him!”

You lift up your skirts and try to keep up with Hoseok as he dashes down the hall with you in tow, pushing open unfamiliar door after door to escape the royal officials hunting him down.

They must be the same advisors that held a meeting with Namjoon earlier today.

Even when your steps falter his grip on you never wavers, occasionally turning his head to check that you’re able to keep up.

As you both turn a corner, you spot Namjoon emerging from a room, books stacked in his arms and the other hand holding a porcelain teacup. Your rapidly approaching footsteps alert him and he looks up over the rims of his dark-framed glasses, surprised to see you hand in hand with Hoseok dashing through the halls.

You manage to catch his eye, offering a small weary smile as you go by.

He stands stunned, unable to say much but utter your title under his breath in confusion, and watches you pass by in a flurry with your pink skirt breezing behind you.

You’d like to stop and greet him properly, but with Hoseok adamant to flee with you in tow, you doubt he’d like to stop and chat with Namjoon.

With your eyes focused behind you on Namjoon, you lose your balance in your heels, making you stumble out of them. You try your best to slip them back on quickly, but Hoseok’s sharp command for you to hurry forces you to leave them behind. You glance back seeing your white shoes lying on the ground with Namjoon standing just a few feet away still lost in his confusion.

“H-Hoseok, can we stop running?!” You let out an exasperated breath. You’ve already lost a pair of shoes and you’re sure the officials have stopped chasing him.

He pushes open one last door, swinging you into the room and shutting the door behind him. He presses his forehead against the door, breathing heavily.

You’re out of breath but as you observe the room, with its large glass ceiling, revealing the glittering night sky and crescent moon, you look up in awe almost forgetting to breathe. It’s difficult to look away from the sight of a thousand stars in the sky all twinkling brightly. You almost want to reach out and touch them.

“Wow,” you sigh, marveling at the night sky.

Hoseok ignores your wonder, muttering curses about the officials under his breath.

“Sit down over here. I’ll finish putting on your bandages.”

Hoseok moves toward the couch. You sit beside him offering your hand and he begins cleaning your wound again. The focused expression returns as he begins to apply healing cream on your cut.

Your cheeks begin to burn in the silence. Nothing but the ticking pendulum clock fills the room.

“You really didn’t have to help me. I could’ve done it myself.”

“Knights never abandon anyone who’s injured and neither will I,” he responds automatically, his eyes unwavering from his task.

Although you know he’s just a servant, Hoseok seems to spend most of his time with the knights. He seemed close with Jimin and really enjoyed sparing with the knights. He looked so proud just being around them and wearing their uniform. You begin to wonder if he has any desire to become one himself. He has the skill and the heart for it.

But now that he’s considered a royal they’d never allow him to put himself in harm's way and become a knight, and they certainly wouldn’t be okay with him continuing to be a servant. That must be what those court advisors were chasing him about.

“Are you okay with all of this?”

You ask because you’re curious about his thoughts on possibly becoming king, but you also ask because you’re worried about the facade he might be putting on in front of others. Jimin told you that Hoseok tells everyone he’s fine but is he really? Does he accept the truth of his royal blood so easily?

Hoseok looks into your eyes and grimaces. He releases your hand and stands up abruptly, gazing at the floor.

“I don’t need your pity,” Hoseok murmurs. “Don’t be so kind to me just because I’m suddenly the king’s son. If I were nothing more than a servant, you wouldn’t even look in my direction.”

“That’s not true,” you object. You aren’t as shallow as he thinks you are. You aren’t pretending to care about his feelings just because of his status. He’s just as human like you with feelings and you’d like to be someone he can trust and confide in. Bottling up his feelings would only make things worse.

“Just forget it,” he brushes it off, turning away once again. “I’m nothing to you, okay?”

“Hoseok…”

You can feel something in you nearly break from his soft-spoken whisper. He isn’t nothing. You want to find a way to convince him otherwise.

The door opens cutting the moment short, revealing the two court officials from earlier and surprisingly, Namjoon standing beside them as well. In his hands are the shoes you had left behind in your haste.

Hoseok scans the three standing in the doorway. Finally, his eyes settle and narrow on Namjoon.

“Your highness, please let us speak to you,” one of the officials beg.

“Don’t call me that,” Hoseok groans, then points his finger at Namjoon who looks to the floor. Namjoon refuses to make eye contact as Hoseok lets out his frustrations. “Why don’t you speak to him? He’s the crown prince. He’s the one the king chose to rule.”

“It’s not that simple anymore, your highness, you know that,” the second official speaks up in a more serious tone. “And if you continue to run, we won’t hesitate to call the knights to restrain you.”

Hoseok, visibly angered by the officials’ threat, lowers his hand, clenching it into a fist. He looks as if he wants to retort, scream at them to leave him alone. Instead, he stays silent and stares off to the side, neither refusing or agreeing to go with them.

Namjoon looks toward you, politely offering his hand, “Why don’t we go somewhere else and let them have their discussion in private?”

You look between Namjoon’s outstretched hand and Hoseok’s furious expression, conflicted on what you should do.

CHOICE: stay with Hoseok or go with Namjoon

—

PLEASE DON’T FORGET TO CHOOSE HERE!

REMINDER: your choices may affect your relationship with the characters. Please vote wisely :)

#bts #bts fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #hoseok fanfiction #bts smut #magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv

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peachiekoo · 4 years

Text

Anthophile || JHS

anthophile: a lover of flower

⇢ Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

⇢ Genre: Romance; Fluff

⇢ Rating: PG-13

⇢ Warning(s): None

⇢ Word Count: 2.8K

⇢ Posted: May 10th,2020

⇢ A/n: Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic! I thought of it at like 4 am so I hope you enjoy it.

It was an early Thursday morning. Considering the fact that you were off of work today, you had nothing left to do.

Normally, you would wake up pretty late on your off days but oddly enough, you woke up early. It was only eight in the morning and you couldn’t go back to sleep so you opted to go on a walk around the city you lived in for a good few years.

Throwing on warm sweater and leggings, you headed out to take a small tour.

You genuinely did enjoy living in the city, you loved how it was always busy. The shops bunched up together, made up of high-end brands and small boutiques. The apartments and fast food places make it more complete in your eye. You knew this city like the back of your hand.

Assuming you knew every small and hidden shop. You felt like you were running out of new experiences to enjoy while you worked as a fashion design assistant.

Going into the bakery that was across from were across from, you smelled the freshly baked treats seeping from the kitchen into the rest of the store.

“Hey, Y/n! Your usual?” you heard Taehyung effused. Taehyung Kim, a bright and bubbly yet mysterious boy who you had become associates with due to the daily visits you would have. “Yes please!” you buzzed as you already got the cash out to pay for it.

Soon, you were handed you a small cardboard box filled with cannoli. “What’s so good about these?” he coaxed. You leaned on the counter and smiled. “I honestly can’t answer that. Its just, addicting.” you disclosed.

He then gave you back a warm smile and nodded, assuming he felt content with your answer.

“See you tomorrow?”

“You know it.” you quipped out as you walked out the building waving farewell.

Deciding you ventured enough for the morning, you made your way back home. Taking your time as you took in the nice city view yet again when you noticed a flower shop at the end of the street. It was very vintage-like, standing out compared to the more modern shops it was surrounded by.

Yet, you’ve never noticed this shop. Has it always been here? Was this shop just opened?

Curiosity taking over, you walked into the shop, viewing the beautiful flowers and decor of the shop. Smelling the freshness of the plants. You came to a sudden stop though when you noticed there was no one else in the shop.

You were about to walk out until you saw a brown-haired boy neatly putting a small bouquet together, not even noticing you had walked in. You observed as he cut the flowers and plants in a certain way. Neatly wrapping paper into a flattering shape as he wrapped them around the flowers and finishing it off with a ribbon.

He then made eye contact with you. “Hey, Welcome to the shop! Is there anything you’re looking for?” he intoned. Quickly shaking your head, “No, I was just looking around!” you replied instantly.

“Ah, new customer, right?” he guessed. “Yeah, am I that obvious?” you joked.

“I remember faces.” he simply added.

After it was quiet for a little, you saw him placing the small bouquet he had made prior to your small conversation on the counter.

“How long has this shop been here?” you question.

“About 50 years ago I believe.”

“Really? I’ve been here for a few years and I’ve never really noticed this place,” you admit.

“Understandable. We aren’t really as busy as we used to be,” he explained. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy anything? Like your first visit to our shop kind of souvenir?” he prattled.

Smiling dumbly, you declined. “I only brought enough cash for small treats sadly,” you told him.

You walked around the building for about 10 more minutes before you decided it was time to leave.

Walking up to the register, you caught the male’s attention quickly when you light waved at him with a small smile. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” you divulged.

Smiling cutely at you he lightly chuckled. “Thank you for visiting. You should stop by more often.” he conversed.

“Of course I will. Maybe I’ll have money to buy something too.” you grinned.

You were about to make your leave when he had put the bouquet from earlier in your hand. “Here. Now you have something to remember here.” he smiled.

Feeling your face heating up, you became flustered at the sudden action. “I can’t just take this,” you told him.

“Yes, you can. I was only testing out a new combination of flowers.” he rebutted.

“It’s really pretty,” you said, looking at beautiful colors. “I really don’t know how I can repay you for this.”

“Don’t. I just wanted to give it to you.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“It’s adorable.”

Smiling goofily, you took in the nice smell of them. “I should really get going now.”

Bidding your last goodbye, you were finally at home, putting the flowers in a vase you had for your previous flowers. Admiring the beauty of it, you realized that you didn’t even know his name.

Having a rough shift, annoyed and tired, you wanted to go home and have a nice warm bubble bath with nice candles around and have some wine and then take a nice long nap.

There was one thing though, you needed to buy the wine and candles for the occasion meaning, you needed to make a few pit-stops before the comforting bath.

You after buying the candles, you saw the shop, but this time it had customers and you saw Hoseok there making the bouquets for work. Seeing as his co-workers were busy helping other customers find what flowers intrigued them.

You chose on going in, you needed to buy more flowers anyways. For the vase, you had yet to buy.

Walking in, the familiar scent of flowers come to fill your nose as you take a small whiff. Hearing the little bell ringing as you alarm the workers in the building. Your eyes immediately find the same boy’s from last time.

Seeing the smile slowly comes on his face once he realizes who you are. You saunter over to him as he finishes up one of the vast collection of flowers for the time being. “You’re back, I see. Can I help you with anything?” he queried.

“Yes, I do actually. Think you can help me?” you coaxed.

Smirking, he walks around from the counter and holds his hand out to present the other flowers neatly placed around. “Is there anything you want in particular?” he inquired you in a half-joking way

“Hm, maybe something simple,” you started before you looked at his nametag, “Hoseok.”

He looked at you almost intrigued as he gave you a smirk.

“And you must be?”

“Y/n.”

“Ah, you have a really pretty name.”

Trying your best to keep your smile off your face, you chuckle a bit. “Do you have any suggestions on what I should get?.”

Envisioning for a bit, you can tell he knew perfectly what to suggest from the way his face glowed. You would be lying if you say you didn’t feel yourself melt a bit from how adorable he was.

“How about pink roses and lavender? The colors clash together beautifully and the smell is amazing,” he explains with obvious glee.

“Well, I trust you,” you beamed. “I can tell you have an eye for flowers.” you point out.

“Flowers have always been special to me,” Hoseok explained and he picked out the flowers. “It gives me this unexplained comfort, you know?” he admits.

“Maybe I do get it. I tend to find comfort in the teddy bear I got from my Dad when I was a child. I keep it in my drawer. It calms me knowing that I still have a piece of him even though-”

You stopped once you realized you were in a public area and speaking to someone you hardly knew. He just felt so trusting though. Like you can talk to him about anything. It was strange. Almost as if he was reading you like an open book.

You noticed how he slowed down on bouquet and paid attention to you like he genuinely cared. He had a sad look on his face. Did you make him uncomfortable? You spoke too much.

“I’m so sorry.” you spluttered. “I’m just- You’re just- fuck, I honestly don’t know what to say,” you confessed.

Great, now you ruined a chance you had with an attractive guy. How much luckier could you be?

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said walking over the register and adding the price up. Quickly paying for it, you were about to rush off before he grabbed your wrist weakly. “Wait!” he called out.

Facing him but looking down, you listened to what he had to say.

“You don’t need to feel embarrassed. It actually kinda makes me happy that you’re already comfortable with me in a way. Maybe this can be the start of a new friendship?” he questioned.

Giving him an airy laugh as you moved the bouquet left to right. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Please, you should come back soon. I enjoy your company a lot,” he admitted.

Blushing a bit, you quickly nodded your head. “I’ll be back. I promise.

Since then you have been making casual trips there. You two bonded in a way that was unexplainable. It just felt right.

Yep, you were most definitely falling for him. He’s chunky shoes and bright style which most definitely weren’t your style somehow found a warm spot in your heart. Was it his personality? He’s looks? Maybe even his charm?

Things you kept asking yourself over and over again until you realize, it was all of the above. You were in so fucking deep this time. Even Taehyung noticed it. Way before you even did. Was it shocking that you were so clueless? Slightly. But did that make any difference on how whipped you are for him? No.

Now, you aren’t the type of person to believe in stereotypes saying that he must be the one to ask you out first. Honestly, you’re just too scared to make the first move. Also, what if you got rejected?

Rejection has always been a fear for you. Possibly the reason why you missed out on multiple opportunities but hey, you get over them right?

But, it’s different this time. The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like you will miss him and any opportunity you had with him. You tried to push this to the back of your head but it constantly comes back rutting with more power.

You were fed up with it. Feeling bold you decided to ask him to hank out at the local arcade with you. Being the absolute sweetheart he is, he obviously accepted.

Which is why you are here now, feeling slightly lightheaded, whilst playing a random zombie game with Hoseok. Or Hobi, as you like to refer to him.

“Y/n, I love you but you’re really losing your touch.”

Getting caught off guard a bit you end up shooting at absolutely nothing and zombie comes to attack your character.

He’s right. You’re dead at this point.

“I’m sorry, I just have something on my mind.” you sugarcoat as you hear your character screeching cries of pain as Hobi keeps on shooting.

“Which is?”

Looking over to him, you see his soft yet sharp side profile as keeps his focus on the undead trying to feast on him.

It’s now or never right?

“I was just thinking that maybe we can hang out again, but like, in a different way?” you say, being unsure if you even made sense.

“Sure, I saw this cool trampoline park right outside of the city. Looks pretty fun. Just let me know when you’re fre-“

“Actually Hobi,” you interrupt, “I meant more like, a date?” you correct.

Looking over, you see Hoseok’s attention is completely on you as he is completely astonished by what he just heard.

“I won’t be upset if you say no. You don’t owe me anything,” you add, mentally preparing yourself for heartbreak.

“No, no! Wait I do wanna go out with you,” he starts, “I just was gonna ask you the same thing.” he confesses with a warm smile on his face.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know! You can’t put me on the spot like this.”

Grabbing your hands, he interlaces his hands with yours before moving his face closer to yours.

“So, when are we going out?” he cooed.

“Maybe this Friday?”

“Fancy or Casual.”

“I don’t know, surprise me.”

“Oh so now I’m in charge of the date?”

“I like surprises.”

“Fine, fancy.”

“You better not spent too much money.”

“Y/n it’s fine, now please get your skills back so we can kick some zombie butt.”

Laughing at how cheesy he is you grab the plastic gun and prepare to get back to work.

“Let’s do it!” you cheer.

Currently, you were on your way to a more fine dining type of restaurant.

You saw Hoseok looking at you from the corner of your eyes a few times before you lightly bagged him about keeping his eyes on the road.

“You’re just so pretty! It’s hard.” he complimented.

“You’re being so corny,” you laugh off. “It’s cute.”

“Who would’ve known you were such a sucker for corny guys?”

“I mean if it’s you then I’ll make an exception.”

Smiling to himself, he took his free hand and interlaced it with your hand closest to him.

“Y/n, I really do like you. I’m glad you made the first move because I was so fucking close to asking you out with a cringe type of question,” he admits before he starts to laugh with you at his confession.

Arriving at a modern-looking restaurant, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around more. You were nervous. Like extremely nervous.

You didn’t want to mess this up. Especially not with someone as sweet as him.

He was getting ready to leave out of the car before you suddenly tighten your grip. “Hoseok, I like you too. Like a lot.” you clarified.

“Good, I was ready to fight for you.” expressed Hoseok.

The date went more perfect then you could’ve even expected.

Hoseok did everything and more you would’ve thought he would do during a date.

He was so caring and sweet as you express numerous of times but you still aren’t convinced it’s enough.

He makes you happy. He makes you feel like you’re the only one. He happily gives you the attention you ask for which is way more than you would’ve expected.

“Do you mind if we stop at the shop? I left something there.” interrupting your train of thought.

“Yeah, of course.”

With a comfortable silence taking over the car, you look out the window and look at all the bright city lights and cars and people going by. It’s so beautiful here when it’s a late night. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“I’ll be back.” he tells you before rushing out of the car.

This moment is everything to you. The scenery you love to look at the most and the most perfect boy there to put the final cherry on top.

Hoseok knew how much you loved the view here. You told him this millions of times yet he still doesn’t get sick of the way your eyes sparkle once you talk about it.

He even remembers how you said when holidays come and the city is decorated, you feel euphoric.

To him it’s one of the many things that makes you so perfect to him.

Little did you know that he had a small gift waiting for you.

You didn’t even hear when he got back into car barring gifts and and large bouquet. “Y/n, look!”

Turning over, you went completely wide eye. Possibly the biggest bouquet you’ve ever gotten and a medium-sized box in his other hand.

It was made with your birthday flower and your favorite color. You felt yourself tearing up as he gave the flowers to you.

“Now open the box.” he provokes.

Grabbing the box, you gently unravel the ribbon keeping the box together before removing the lid off of the box.

You felt the hot tears finally falling from your eyes. It was a snowglobe. But it was a replica of this city and you could see all the pretty details inside.

Looking under it, you found your name engraved on the bottom.

“You’re too good to me.” you blubbered.

“Because I want to be with you.” he cooed.

It’s official. He and his flowers found a way in your heart.

But this time, you were fully willing to accept it.

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jancmalandra · 4 years

Text

Moominmama On Mars

On fond farewells and happy homecomings

Early Friday morning, Snork Maiden and Little My snuck downstairs without waking up Moominmama and joined Edward and his children in their front room where they were almost finished setting up Moominmama's farewell party. All the food was freshly picked from Edward's farm, hand prepared, and carefully laid out on a dining table at the center of the room. There was a chair, plate, and a place setting for each of them around the table. Moominmama's chair was at the head of the table and was decorated with pretty ribbons in a rainbow of colors. Edward had even made a handmade cake and topped it with the first candle seen on Mars in over two millennia. Mark, Raul, and Kaori had decorated the room with handmade paper streamers and other festive decorations. They all waited for Moominmama to come downstairs very eagerly.

They didn't have to wait long for Moominmama to poke her head into the front room. They all yelled "Surprise!", and threw paper confetti over her head. Edward put a crown of colorful Martian flowers on her head and said to her, "This party is to thank you for your visit and everything that you have done for me, my family, and the Martian people! It's also to send you home again with all our blessings and heartfelt good wishes!"

"I really appreciate this wonderful surprise!", said Moominmama, "But whatever do you mean by 'the Martian people' ?"

"I'll show you! Since I first took you to see my farm I've been broadcasting everything that we've been doing together to the entire planet over the video screens. You've become the biggest hit on Mars! Everything that you've taught us about gardening and living life you've also been teaching to everyone on the planet! It's only because of the example that you've set that THIS is about to happen!", said Edward, pointing to the large screen that took up the better part of the rear wall of the front room. Images of various large crowds of Martians flashed by one at a time on the screen. Some of these crowds were standing in the streets of Martian cities, some were standing in the domed fields and forests, and some were gliding about in submarines in vast, immeasurable underwater wildlife preserves. The Martians were all yelling out their thanks to Moominmama in joy! Then, in perfect synch with each other, they all shouted, "Five! Four! Three! Two! One!". All of the protective domes over the forests and farms vanished into thin air!

It was like watching an entire planet being born and taking it's first breath on it's own. There was a rush of released air, and in the fields, forests, and jungles, countless Martian insects, birds and animals scurried about wildly as if they were celebrating their newfound freedom along with the Martian people. The crowds of Martians all shouted, cheered, jumped for joy, and danced together.

It was the most amazing sight that the three Earthlings had ever seen. Even Little My, who prided herself on being utterly unsentimental, was moved to tears.

Edward took Moominmama's paws in his, and said, "We Martians might never had the courage to let our planet go to fend for itself if it hadn't been for you. We worked so hard for so very long to restore our planet that we could very well have made the mistake of trying to protect it by controlling it forever. It's going to be so much more wonderful watching what our planet becomes without us interfering. There comes a time when all you can do for the growing things you've raised is to sit back and revel in how they grow on their own. You taught us that. We all owe this moment to you. And now, we all want to send you back to Moominvalley and your family where you belong with our love and blessings."

Moominmama was so deeply moved that she was speechless. Edward lit the candle on top of her cake and Mark, Raul and Kaori led her to it. She blew out the candle and they all clapped for her. Then, they all sat down around the dining table and began enjoying the wonderful food Edward had prepared.

After the meal, Mark, Raul, and Kaori gave Moominmama a medium sized metal box with an opening in the top big enough to put a letter into it. "You can send letters to us anytime you like with this.", explained Kaori, her voice breaking with sadness. "We can send letters to you as well. This small square on the top will light up anytime there's a letter inside it. All you have to do is press the button to open the box and get your letters. We'll write to you once a week from now on forever and ever, we promise!" At this, all three Martian children began to cry and gathered around Moominmama, hugging her powerfully. She hugged each of them in turn lovingly.

"Now, now, my dears.", said Moominmama, tears streaming from her eyes as well, "I'm going to look forward to each and every one of your letters! I'll be sure to write back and tell you about everything going on in Moominvalley. Be good and treat each other kindly. Goodbye, and may The-Protector-Of-All-Small-Beasts watch over you all!"

"Moominmama.", said Snork Maiden gently through her tears, "Are you ready to go back to Moominvalley with us?"

"Yes, Snork Maiden.", said Moominmama, hugging her reassuringly. She lifted up the key around her neck and it began to glow. Snork Maiden and Little My did the same and their keys glowed blindingly. The next thing they knew they were standing in front of the bathhouse door in Moominvalley. Moominmama looked more relieved than sad as she gazed up into the sky, looking in the direction of Mars.

"I REALLY want to see Moominpapa as soon as possible.", said Moominmama, "I really have missed him. I hope he, Moomintroll, Snufkin, and the children haven't gotten themselves into too much mischief. But that would probably be good for Papa, too." The three women headed down the boardwalk towards the beach. They were very surprised to see Moominpapa, Snufkin, Moomintroll, Tayberry, and Moomin waiting for them on the beach. Moominpapa was holding out a very large bouquet of flowers towards Moominmama, a look of regret and deep love on his face. But, how they all got there is a story for next time.

The End

#moomin #moominvalley #moominmama #snork maiden #little my #moomin oc #Martians #moomin fanfiction #writers on tumblr

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newyorkinshort · 4 years

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The Marriage of John L. Perkins

By A.K.

Mr. John Perkins was no friend of the poor man. He was a rich man and he knew but only the rich. His father, Mr. Clive Perkins, knew only but a few poor men and those men he ordered around and paid very little. He owned a textile factory in southern Georgia near Savanna and far from Atlanta. The hills there were exquisite and on more than one morning one could see deer leaping up above the waking groundhogs, only if one was an early riser. Mr. John Perkins slept until noon.

“Mr. John Lee Perkins!” His mother would shout on more than one occasion. “It is well near noon and I need you to go on to the market!” Or to Savannah, or to deliver lunch to his father in the factory, or to set the horse-buggy straight. There was always something to do before noon and that was why John Perkins slept through it. One morning “Mr. John Lee Perkins!” came ringing through the white marble staircases of their southern mansion, under his cream colored bedroom double doors, just past his French cologne on his mahogany dresser, directly into his ears laying softly on his satin pillow. “I need you to go to New York!” He woke up that morning, at nine o’clock.

He had never been up north and for all he knew it was a different era and a different folk. The small bands that played at southern affairs were nothing like the big swinging bands of the North. The deep southern chittlens and fried collard greens were nothing to compare with the refined dining of the big city. And the women of the South had none of the charm nor the thrill of the ladies of the North. Or so he had heard from his traveling friends.

His train left the station at noon exactly, and he said farewell to his parents on the swooping porch of their sweeping white home over-looking the green hills at eight thirty. He wasn’t one for makeshift plans but his mother insisted that her sister in New York was in need of a checking up and she had already promised she would plan the summer festival in Savanna, so he was needed to visit in her stead. “Three weeks John. Three weeks please stay with your aunt and tend to her. She’s all alone up in that big, dirty city.” Southerners detested the North.

He arrived at the Pennsylvania Station on 34th Street in New York City at seven o’clock in the evening. His aunt was not thrilled to see him standing on the platform in his three-piece beige and cream suit and tilted hat as she was apparently in no need of tending. She walked briskly to him, and without so much as a word or embrace, took off his hat, pushed it to his chest, and turned quickly towards her black T-Ford. “Follow me, Mr. John Perkins. You are quite the young man, now.”

She recently divorced her former husband, who owned quite a bit of property in the city and would leave none of it to her. In the South, divorce was taboo, a hidden reality husbands and wives covered up with delicious pies and sold furniture. In New York, it was quite a common happenstance and quite brutal. And thus, he concluded, it was not opportune for any male to be near his aunt for long bouts of time. In the mornings he slept, in the afternoons he explored the apartment in the Upper Westside, and at night he walked the city streets to the nearest jazz joint and gazed at lights on the solid exterior of the gray skyscrapers. His aunt never seemed to mind the late hour he awoke nor the late hour he returned.

Had it remained such he would have returned to Georgia quite the gay and satisfied young traveler, but, as most travelers do, he found himself intrigued by the most obscure of treasures upon the foreign city streets: the flapper girls. They danced with such tenacity, their black hair bobbed directly below their ears, bringing out their long, thin necks and beautiful, dark features. They wore a fabric thinner than any he had seen any lady wear before and when one asked him to dance, he knew he had found his match. And for the next three weeks, they were inseparable. They walked arm in arm not only on the dark city streets at night, but under the sun in the mornings, too. Him in his brightly colored ties and suits of the South her in her dark, flowing flapper dresses of the North. And before his aunt could react to the whispers and rumors of the notion of such an arrangement, a Southern beau and a Northern pauper, they eloped and took the first train back to Georgia.

It was the last day of the Savanna festival and his mother stood upon a beautifully decorated stage on one the most gorgeous hills in the most glamorous Southern bell dress anyone in the state had seen. Young men and old men, young women and old women stood listening to the lively sounds of the jazz band playing an arrangement of Blueberry Hill while sipping their bourbons when the two arrived. Before Mr. John Perkin’s mother could see who belonged to the feet that had swung high in the dusk sky that evening, the ones everyone was crowded around on the dance floor, she heard two loud shots. And as the crowd slowly dispersed, there lay Mr. John Lee Perkins dressed in the finest zoot suit of the North and his wife in the most beautiful of blue Southern dresses on the dance floor as the band played on.

Thus it was, that the marriage and funeral of Mr. John Lee Perkins began and ended on the same Georgian day.

#a.k.#new york #short story #atlanta #marriage of john l perkins #authors of new york

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nomnomsik · 5 years

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To Catch a Dream - (7)

Summary: It’s difficult for Yoongi, who’s completely infatuated with you, to quietly remain your college friend. With a slow appearance of unusual tendencies in him, he realizes what he needs to do to attain his dream. However, jealousy and possession are universal in everyone.

A/N: “Perhaps the reason this night looks so beautiful Is not because of these stars or lights, but us” -Mikrokosmos

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

After winter break, Yoongi had moved out of his dorm and now stayed in his apartment. Jimin had wished him a farewell, hugging him from behind. Yoongi groaned, telling him that he was heavy and that he would still see him at the campus. It’s not like he would never see Jimin again.

Now, Yoongi lived in the city, barely enjoying his lavish apartment that had nothing except for a bed, a table, a framed photo on top of the table, and a small cooler that served as his fridge all in his living room. Despite his parents having enough money to buy every single floor in that apartment building, his living space was empty. He couldn’t be any happier though. He loved it.

Unluckily for him, his commute to his suburban college was much longer, unable to join you in the early mornings. It was always made up though when you two exchanged a quick kiss in the hallway, before hurriedly splitting ways, rushing to your next class. You would watch as Yoongi spotted you, his fingers coming up as he undid his mask. He would place it into his pocket, his cheeks silently pink, as you two exchanged a soft kiss.

For the past six months, Yoongi had never believed in his life that he would experience this intense joy ever. Balancing college life and your relationship wasn’t that much of a struggle as you were usually always with Yoongi in the first place. Whenever you took a glance of Yoongi as you both studied together, you saw him in a different light. Is this what love was? Is it the feeling of stability and trust that only increased with great intensity when his soft eyes met yours?

You would often go on dates with him in the city, holding hands as you shared memories together. The day would end as he led you into his empty apartment. The curtains would be open, his room towering high above the city. The lights of hundreds and maybe thousands of buildings and cars would illuminate the city night. Yoongi would sit next to you on his bed as he stared out the window with you, his fingers locking with yours as you looked over at him with a sweet smile. The smile that was made for him just as your dreams were made for yourself. Those nights occurred frequently, until one day, you gave yourself to him, trusting him, and letting both of you become each other's firsts.

Now that you were a senior in college, you had no more time for playing around. Just like Yoongi, you had your own dreams and aspirations that you chased after. Your Senior Thesis pushed you over the edge, forcing you to wrack your brain if you had any hopes of graduating. It was unfortunate for both of you that you just didn’t have the time to meet up as often as before. Yoongi understood and didn’t seem to mind, preferring to occupy himself with his own Senior Thesis. He would shut himself in the laboratory to plan everything he wanted out and talked to the professor for guidance.

On a particular morning, you walked into the mathematics building, covering your mouth as you yawned. With your bag slumped over your shoulder and your eyes barely open, it was indeed a very typical morning. When you turned the corner, you were met with a familiar looking figure, Jimin.

He gave you a smile as he peered at your cute sleepy figure, adoring the way you rubbed your eyes to get a better look at him. “Good morning, y/n. Did you not get enough sleep?”

You grumbled, not confirming or denying. When you finally took a good look at him, you squinted, seeing his unusual choice of clothing.

“I thought you said you hated wearing this stuff.”

Jimin gave you a small smile, understanding your sympathy for him. He again wore a dress shirt that was neatly buttoned and surprisingly ironed. It was white, with black stripes that decorated it vertically. Instead of his typical jeans, he wore tight leather pants that accentuated his waist and thighs. His belt secured everything in place. His golden blonde hair was brushed and straightened, not covering his eyes this time, but parted so that they fell near his ears. You couldn’t lie, he looked amazingly attractive.

“My parents gave me a surprise visit. I almost had a heart attack, but yeah. Forced me to wear this stuff again. Do I at least look good?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” You jokingly teased, earning a chuckle from him.

“Here, I’ll pose. Send me a picture.” Almost out of thin air, Jimin whipped out some shades and put them on. He gave you a bright smile, holding up a peace sign next to his face.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You laughed, but still pulling out your phone and snapping a picture. “You look so dumb wearing shades inside of a building.” You laughed even harder as you stared at the picture, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“Send it to me. Quick quick quick!” Jimin nagged, nudging your shoulder as he wanted to join in on the fun.

“Okay okay. Learn to have some patience, jeez. Perfection takes some time.” You pointed out, holding in a laugh before hitting the send button.

With a ding, Jimin looked at his phone, breaking into a laugh himself, his whole body falling down with him as he squatted near the floor. Jimin tried to speak again, but he only broke out into another laugh. When he snorted, you both laughed in unison, your finger pointing at him. You brought your hand to your stomach, trying to stabilize yourself and not cry from laughing so hard. His eyes were squinted as he held his phone in front of his face with the picture plastered on it.

“I’m dying.” You cracked up as Jimin set the picture as his wallpaper, holding it up proudly. Taking several deep breaths, you finally calmed yourself down, but a smile was still on your face. Jimin gave you a wave, heading out of the mathematics building and off to his dorm.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Yoongi had seen the whole encounter, Jimin running into you first before he had the chance. He silently watched from around the corner, his heartbreaking. Could he ever make you laugh like this? He clenched his fists, biting his bottom lip in frustration as he ruffled his messy hair. It was a tight feeling in his chest that didn’t sit right with him. Yoongi had always known your particular taste in men, trying to slowly accommodate in some ways. From changing his clothes, he slowly adjusted, not wanting to give away the fact that he was slowly shifting to your tastes.

It was guys like Jimin that piqued your interest from time to time. Jimin’s physique was impressive, with his face soft-looking and innocent, to his body which screamed muscular and athletic. His hair, always sporting different colors and hairstyles, which displayed his confidence in his looks. His outfits, trendy and classy at the same time, solidified his role as a group of the popular folks. Jimin was in no way modest about the way he dressed, always choosing to display his wealth. In comparison to himself, Yoongi had no choice but to feel inferior. He wasn’t dumb. He knew how both men and women swooned over him, even happy enough to hook up with him even if he never spoke to them ever again. It was so irritating to him that Jimin displayed such a weird interest in you despite promising him that he wouldn’t make moves. Jimin was a man he couldn’t trust.

Your laughter and joy which he so selfishly wished to be only his. You were something he never wanted to share because you were the only thing he had. He loved you so dearly that he never wanted to think about you leaving him or being taken away from him. Why did people always have to get in his way, trying to take the things he cared about away from him?

He turned away, preferring to go back to the laboratory to work. The professor looked up from his desk as Yoongi stepped in, ushering him in. Yoongi was well acquainted with him, being the senior he was. By now, the professor knew Yoongi was fully capable of managing himself. Yoongi quickly slipped on an apron and gloves as he opened several cabinets that held certain chemicals.

Grabbing a beaker and flask, Yoongi went on autopilot, his mind still reflecting back to your encounter with Jimin. He pipetted the clear liquid into a flask, measuring it up to 50 mL and placing on the black countertop. His hands clenched the glass equipment tightly as he remembered the way your loud laughter carried its way to his ears. It annoyed him more than it should have. A prick like Jimin… Someone like him shouldn’t even have talked to you. He was a playboy, someone who was going to take advantage of you one day.

His hand instinctively reached out, grabbing the clear bottled liquid. As he uncapped it, he was about to pour it in before he heard a gasp. Before he was able to turn his head around, his professor shouted.

“Yoongi! Don’t pour that in!” He stood up, making his way over to him, grabbing the bottle from him. Yoongi stood there stunned as he watched his professor take the bottle away from him. The professor sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Yoongi, you do know this is bleach right?”

Yoongi looked over to where he grabbed the bottle, shocked at his mistake. “There’s no way-” he started until he realized the bleach bottle was adjacent to the stacked bottles of rubbing alcohol and vinegar.

“If you were to pour that with this, you would’ve made chloroform. Please be more careful, Yoongi.” His professor’s voice was laced with a bit of disappointment that sliced a part of Yoongi’s heart. Even though he was his professor’s favorite student, it still hurt to make mistakes. A perfectionist at heart, he despised failure. It felt like he was being laughed at. His mind always bringing him back to the moment in his life where both his parents yelled at him for being nothing but a failure. It reflected that maybe his parents had a point. Maybe he truly was a failure like they had told him. Maybe he was wrong for going down this path. Maybe he would live his life like the failure he was, only making his life worse.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled, his hand instinctively coming up to his shirt as he tightly gripped it. “I t-think I need a minute,” Yoongi mumbled, pushing the door open and scurrying out. He ripped the gloves off his hands, bringing them up to his face as he felt tears roll down his face. Sniffling, he wiped them off with the back of his arm, hiding in the corner of the hallway.

Could he ever do something right?! By this point, you were going to leave him too. There was too much baggage that came along with him. He furrowed his eyes as his anger built up, almost exploding violently as he slammed his fist on the walls of the hallway.

“I’m not taking any risk. She’s mine.”

Chapter 8

#yandere bts #to catch a dream #yoongi x reader #yoongi reaction #yandere yoongi #yandere!yoongi #bts writing #bts fanfiction #yandere!bts #yandere kpop #kpop x reader #kpop yandere #bts suga #yandere suga #suga x reader

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coffeecomicsgalore · 5 years

Text

25 Days of Adrien (+6 of Marinette)

Alya has the group wear superhero themed sweaters.

Ao3

Chapter 17 – Ugly Christmas Sweaters

“You guys really need to get a room.” Alya points at the kissing couple of the bench.

“Seriously, dudes. And I thought me and Alya were bad.” Nino added while nudging Alya in the arm.

Marinette pulled away from Adrien and smiled. “We just realized a few things over the last week that just made our relationship ten times stronger.”

“Plus, this is the only time I could really do this without the press being in my face.” Adrien had his Chat-like smile spread across his cheeks. “Last thing I need is my father to put a stop to this madness and make me bid her farewell.”

“Like that will ever happen.” Marinette added. The comment made them both giggle.

“Seriously, you two. I know romance is your thing, Adrien, but I never thought that red was your color.”

Marinette noticed what Alya was teasing him about. The red lipstick she wore was now all over his lips which also helped bring out the rosiness of his cheeks. She licked her fingers to help rub the tint off his face which only led to Alya and Nino gagging over the motherly act.

Things really weren’t all that different after the reveal. A random akuma attack happened which allowed them to see how their new dynamic would work. They were worried that it would cause either worry on one side of the duo or extra flirting from the other. Actually, it only made their partnership grow so much stronger now that there were no secrets between them. And by the end of the week, their public displays of affection were the only part of their dynamic that got worse; but not in a bad way of course.

They still needed to maintain a level of secrecy while in their masks, and to do so they decided to keep their romantic affections to a minimum. Chat, of course, was not happy about it, but he understood the reasoning. But that did not stop the flood of pictures into the Ladyblog when the rare moments of kissing did happen. Alya was through the roof and believed her Christmas wish came true exclaiming that her ‘ship was finally sailing’.

Since this was the last full week of school before the holiday break, the school announced a week of fun activities. Each day, the classes were able to wear or do something that represented the activity of the day. Monday was cookie design day, Tuesday was wear a funny hat day, Wednesday was decorate your classroom day, Thursday was holiday color themed day, and today is wear an Ugly Christmas Sweater day.

Alya came up with a plan to have the quad of friends wear a group themed ugly sweaters. With Alya being Alya, she thought it would be awesome if they went as the opposite counterparts of the superheroes. Alya would go with something Carapace themed while Nino went with something Rena Rouge themed. Marinette would go as something Chat Noir themed while Adrien went as something Ladybug themed. Adrien and Marinette quietly giggled at the thought, but ultimately agreed to the plan.

Of course, Marinette could not just go out and buy hers and Adrien’s sweaters. No. She just had to make them something specialized for them. Plus, how many people can say they can dress up as their superhero beaus and get away with it? Besides them, only Alya and Nino could claim that title. But that was their own little secret.

Marinette spent the rest of the week working on the designs. Adrien spent every day with her, watching her knit with pure joy, and lending his input on the handiwork when it was requested. It still felt like a dream that they would soon wake up from, believing it was a nightmare that made them regret never revealing themselves and hiding their secret to each other. But it wasn’t. It was pure, real, and absolutely amazing.

That Friday, Adrien arrived to Marinette’s home to pick up his sweater. She had a few last-minute finishing touches to complete after he had left for the night, but she promised it would be finished by morning.

When he arrived in the Dupain-Cheng's bakery, Sabine scurried Adrien up the stairs with some croissants for breakfast. Marinette was already awake, excited to show off the final touches on her sweater before handing Adrien his.

Marinette answered Adrien’s knocks on her door with a large smile.

“Good Morning, Chaton!”

Adrien bowed to his cheerful princess. “Good Morning, M’Lady.”

When he straightened back up, he sees Marinette wearing her sweater. He was floored. Marinette knitted an overly large black sweater that went down to her midthigh. She was wearing lime green leggings with shin high Chat Noir socks. Little bells hung on the socks where Chat’s bell would be. On the sweater itself, she knitted in a lime green tree with bells attached to the limbs in every direction and a had little white cats underneath the tree. She finished the look with her Chat Noir beanie that she made especially for Adrien. Her hair was down with curls peeping through the cap and even her makeup was done up with cat eye eyeliner and a green hue. She looked absolutely adorable.

“What do you think?” she said as she spun in circles.

“Paws-itively amazing, my princess.”

She covered her smile as she giggled. She took his hand to bring him into her home so they could enjoy the morning together before school.

“Go ahead and set the pastries down and I’ll go get your sweater.” Marinette said sweetly.

Adrien set out a plate with the delicious pastries as she walked back down her bedroom steps. “I hope you love it!”

Adrien grabbed the sweater from her hands and held it up. It was perfect. Marinette had knitted Adrien a red sweater that stopped at his hips. She had placed large black spots all over the sweater, each looking like an ornament with a small ribbon hanging from the tops of each. On some of the ornaments, little bells hung from the strings, while others remained plain. It wasn’t as adorable as Marinette’s Chat Noir themed sweater, but it worked well with their little group outfit.

“Hold on! I have one more thing to add to yours.” She went and grabbed a shiny red present bow that was attached to a clip. She placed the clip on in his hair before kissing him on his lips. “Merry Christmas to me!” Adrien just laughed over the extra touch.

-----xoxox-----

Alya and Nino were already in class when Marinette and Adrien walked in. Nino, being the funny bro that he is, whistled at Adrien when he walked in.

“Hey hot stuff! Are you a present for me?”

“In your dreams, Nino. This present is all mine!” Marinette teased.

Adrien blushed as red as his sweater. Marinette could only smile lovingly at her boyfriend, the cute bow on his head really sealed the deal.

Needing to say something back to his best friend, Adrien could only laugh at how short and unfestive his sweater was. “Nino, I thought it was supposed to be ugly? It actually looks kind of cute for a crop top.”

Nino shrugged his shoulders down with a sigh. “Man, there were no Rena Rouge looking ones in the men's department. Alya had to buy the only orange top from the woman’s department. And even with the biggest size, dude, the sweater is still too short.”

Adrien patted his best friend in the back. “No worries Nino, you look just as hot in that outfit as I do.” Adrien winked at him making Alya and Marinette fall over laughing.

“Sunshine boy has got you there, Nino.” Alya reiterated. Alya’s outfit was a little better with a simple green turtleneck with black leggings. Around her neck was a shimmery garland necklace and she added these adorable green Christmas tree earrings. She wore brown knee-high boots and a green beanie to finish the look.

“Alya, looking great as ever.” Marinette cooed.

“Thanks girl, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

The rest of the class shuffled in all wearing festive and fun looking sweaters. Each one personalized with a fun design. Kim wore a sweater with a stocking sewed to it. He left candy in the stocking to keep him happy all day long. Max wore a white sweater with math problems that were piled on top of each other to look like a tree. Rose wore something pink and glittery. Sabrina even wore a sweater that had a kitty Christmas tree on it. Chloe and Lila were the only two to not dress up.

The best one was Nathaniel’s as he sketched an entire Christmas scene on his sweater and hand painted it with fabric paint. It came out absolutely amazing.

The class enjoyed the day filled with games, a little bit of classwork, and ended the day with the last holiday party of their last year at lycée. It was bittersweet, but fun nonetheless, and Adrien couldn’t ask for a better time.

#mlholidays2k19 #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml fanfic #christmas fluff

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